Cut Throat (15 page)

‘Dangerous sport, showjumping,' Roland observed, apparently to his coffee cup. ‘Don't fancy it, myself.'

‘You wouldn't fancy anything that might soil your hands or spoil the look of your favourite suit,' the Colonel said with undisguised contempt.

His son appeared to consider this. ‘No, I shouldn't think I would,' he agreed, finally. ‘I'll leave that sort of thing to our all-American action boy.' He observed Ross from under his brows with a fleeting glint of amusement in his grey eyes.

‘Roland! Don't be wicked!' Lindsay exclaimed, laughing. Then, to Ross, ‘Don't let him fool you. You are looking at the hardest rider to hounds Wiltshire has ever seen. Roland was tipped to become Master a few years ago.'

‘So, what happened?' Ross enquired.

‘I saw sense,' Roland told him.

‘He went to Sandhurst,' Lindsay informed him.

‘Sandhurst?' Ross was lost.

‘Army officer training,' the Colonel supplied. ‘Like West Point. They were wasting their time, though.'

‘You didn't stay?'

Roland made a face. ‘Up at dawn, square-bashing, assault courses, mud, bossy sergeant-majors . . . and guns! I never could get used to those guns.' He shuddered dramatically.

‘Oh, shut up,' Lindsay said, exasperated. ‘He was in the army for eight years, Ross. He was very good at it.'

The Colonel stood up, heading for his desk. ‘He threw away a promising career,' he grunted. ‘Works in a bloody china shop now.'

‘Antiques,' Roland said, mildly. ‘Import and export.'

‘Whatever,' his father said dismissively. ‘Look, I didn't ask Ross and Franklin here to discuss your failings. We have business to get on with.'

‘Don't let me stop you,' Roland said obligingly, making no move to leave.

The Colonel made a visible effort to keep his temper, turning his back on his son and handing a sheaf of colourful brochures to Ross and Bill. ‘Have a look at those.'

‘We've decided the time has come to think about getting a bigger horsebox,' Franklin explained from his chair. ‘I've marked the two I favour. See what you think.'

After the merits of the various vehicles had been discussed at length, the meeting broke up with Lindsay saying she wanted to take Gypsy out for exercise before lunch because she had to meet James at the station that afternoon. In the event, Sarah and Leo accompanied her on her ride and Bill went to the saddler's with Woody's saddle and a number of other items that needed repairing.

Ross took advantage of the period of quiet this afforded to school Ginger again. She was due to jump at a fairly important show at the weekend and he knew that she needed at least one intensive session before then. He'd ridden the mare out the previous day, returning to the site of her previous panic attack, but she hadn't put a foot wrong. He was finding her increasingly difficult to understand.

On this occasion as he worked her in the newly raked school she was willing, if not exactly eager. Her flatwork was supple and obedient and she jumped with good style. Still Ross was not happy with her. She felt to him like an automaton, characterless and uninspiring.

Towards the end of the hour he had allotted the mare he noticed Franklin Richmond leaning on the gate and rode over. As was his habit, he untacked the steaming mare and let her cool off and roll in the sand if she chose.

‘That mare's coming on nicely,' Richmond said, by way of greeting.

‘Mmm.' The doubt sounded in Ross' voice.

‘You don't think so?'

He shrugged, non-committally. ‘She's a touch unpredictable.'

‘So is life,' the businessman observed.

‘True.' Ross squinted at him against the bright sunlight. ‘What did you make of this morning's demonstration?'

‘He goes to a lot of trouble, doesn't he? I'm awaiting the message that will undoubtedly follow.'

‘More money?' Ross suggested.

‘I suppose so,' Richmond said. ‘But somehow I don't think that's the reason for all this. As I said before, it's as though he's playing with us and I think he felt the game was becoming a little too tame.'

Ross frowned. ‘A dangerous sort of game.'

‘Some people thrive on danger. It becomes an addiction. In your own way, you obviously do.'

‘That's not the same,' Ross protested. ‘I don't do it just for kicks.'

‘Don't you?'

Ross found he couldn't answer. After all, why did he ride? For the elusive glory? For the money? Hardly! He rode because it was a continual challenge. Because it was difficult and testing, and because of the incredible high he felt when it all came right. Sure he did it for kicks.

He and Richmond watched Ginger flirting and squealing with the horses in the field beyond the school.

‘I shan't pay him any more, you know,' Franklin said suddenly. ‘I've had enough. If he wants a confrontation he'll have it sooner or later, and I'll be damned if I'm going to give him even more money in the meantime. I'm having the yard watched again, secretly. Nobody else will be told. McKinnon will arrange it.'

‘Do you think that'll work?'

‘I don't know. I hope so. I've got to do something. McKinnon is convinced we must make a stand if we're going to bring this bastard out into the open. I'm prepared to trust his judgement. It's what I pay him for, after all.' He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled at Ross. ‘You attacked me very convincingly this morning.'

Ross grinned. ‘Thought I'd better act in character. The Colonel would have expected it.' He paused. ‘What do you know about Roland?'

Franklin laughed. ‘Got your detective's hat on again? No, seriously, I've known Roland as long as I've known John. Not intimately, I admit, he hasn't spent much time here lately, but he went to school with my nephew Darcy. His relationship with his father is somewhat strained, but he's harmless. I'd describe him as a determined eccentric.'

Ross nodded. ‘Lindsay seems very fond of him, anyway, and she's usually a fairly good judge of character.'

‘Though you say it yourself,' Richmond observed, amused.

Ross grinned and shook his head. ‘Hell, no. That's not what I meant.'

‘I know,' Richmond acknowledged, smiling. ‘Look, I've got to go. Work to do. Look out for yourself, okay?'

‘Sure,' Ross said, liking the big, easy-going businessman more with each encounter. ‘You too.'

The riders returned as Ross finished hosing Ginger down and led her to her stable. Sarah looked unhappy and Lindsay harassed. Leo was whistling cheerfully.

‘Trouble?' Ross enquired, following Lindsay into Gypsy's box.

She sighed. ‘Oh, I don't know. No, not really. It's just that Leo will keep teasing Sarah and she can't defend herself. She's like a mouse. Honestly, I don't know how you stay sane working with those two. Leo's so insolent to you. I've heard some of the things he says and I wonder you don't clobber him.'

‘I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.'

‘Yes, but think of the satisfaction it would give
you
!' Lindsay countered, laughing.

‘There is that,' he agreed. ‘I guess I'd better have a word with him. We don't want to lose Sarah, do we?'

Lindsay departed soon afterwards, saying that she didn't expect to have time to exercise Gypsy the next day, Friday, but that she had begged a space in the horsebox for the second day of the Gloucester show on Sunday.

Ross watched her go with regret, supposing that with her boyfriend on the scene she would be a less frequent visitor to Oakley Manor. She had already confided that her mother wasn't happy with the amount of time she had been spending with the horses.

The show at Gloucester ran over the weekend. Although stabling was provided for competitors who were travelling a long way, Ross and Bill had decided to travel up on both days so that they could enter the maximum number of horses and, at the same time, cut down on stabling fees.

The Oakley Manor contingent set out in thick fog at six-thirty in the morning. The journey was about eighty miles and, what with the fog and an unscheduled stop just before Swindon, they needed every minute of the time they had estimated it would take.

The hold-up was due to Fly getting an attack of claustrophobia in the crowded lorry, and Ross asked Danny if he'd mind travelling with the horses to keep an eye on them. Although he would far rather have had the boy's company in the cab, Danny had a quiet, sympathetic way with the horses and, additionally, could be absolutely relied upon not to doctor the equipment.

Once on the showground, Leo and Danny unloaded the four horses and let them stretch their legs and graze while Ross went in search of the secretary's tent and a timetable. He saw several familiar faces on his way, including Danielle, who greeted him with obvious pleasure, and Stephen Douglas, who didn't.

The last of the fog was thinning fast now, beaten back by the growing strength of the sun. As Ross strolled back to the lorry he felt that overall, life was pretty good.

The day started well, improved steadily and ended with triumph.

Franklin Richmond arrived at ten o'clock with Peter and a fair-haired, smartly dressed young man of about Ross' age whom he introduced as his nephew, Darcy. They were just in time to see Barfly jump to an unexpected fourth place in Ross' first class of the day. Ross was as surprised as anyone and could only surmise that the flighty creature had fretted his fidgets away on the journey up and was now prepared to concentrate.

When Clown followed his stablemate's performance with a clear round in his class and an unlucky four faults in the jump-off, Franklin was beaming and Peter was over the moon. Darcy confided in Ross that he didn't really understand the finer details of the game, but he knew his uncle thought Ross was doing a great job.

While Ross was walking Flo round the collecting ring prior to her first class, he watched Stephen Douglas jump a neat clear on a breedy bay mare who went by the name of China Lily. In spite of her performance, Douglas passed the American looking tense and unhappy. The reason, it transpired, was his second ride in the class, the headstrong chestnut he had ridden at Lea Farm.

He returned to the practice area on the stallion and Ross watched the ensuing struggle with a large measure of pity. Both horse and rider were confused and frustrated, and up to the time when Ross was called into the ring, Douglas hadn't managed to get his mount's attention for long enough to attempt the practice fence once.

On entering the ring, Ross' attention switched immediately and completely to the job in hand. He circled the mare, the starting buzzer sounded, and they swept smoothly through the timing beacons and up to the first fence.

Flo felt fresh and fit. Her brown ears flicked back and forth for signals and Ross obliged by talking quietly to her. ‘Steady girl, steady. Good girl. Steady. Wait. Wait. Good girl!'

She jumped like a stag, making the course look easy, which to be honest, it was. The course designer had set few traps, aiming to encourage rather than to trick. Ross rode out with a satisfying clear behind him.

Stephen Douglas was next but one and catapulted into the ring as though the horse had a tiger on its tail. The stallion had his head tied down, as before, until he could hardly see where he was going, and consequently made matchwood of three of the first five fences. Then, with a mammoth effort at the sixth, the leather strap snapped, the stallion got his head up and was away.

Douglas made a creditable attempt to control the horse, keeping him on line for the next two jumps, which they took at racing speed with a good foot to spare, but thereafter the initiative belonged with the horse. They circled the ring three times, Stephen Douglas red-faced and wholly impotent, before the chestnut slowed enough for his rider to jump off and drag him to an untidy halt.

The crowd, silenced by impending tragedy, now burst into weak applause, precipitated by relief as much as anything. The voice of the commentator commiserated and announced that Stephen Douglas and Telamon had retired, and the next competitor cantered out into the ring.

Douglas trudged past Ross just outside the collecting ring, his horse quieter now but dark with sweat and obviously upset.

‘Bad luck,' the American said from force of habit but nevertheless meaning it.

‘Piss off!' Douglas hissed venomously.

Ross shrugged philosophically.

‘Did you expect anything else?' Danielle rode alongside Ross.

‘I guess not,' he admitted, ruefully. ‘To tell the truth, I'd forgotten.'

She smiled provocatively at him. ‘You're just a naturally nice guy.'

‘Tell me more,' he invited.

‘I'll tell you over dinner tonight, if you like.'

‘Sorry,' Ross said, feeling mildly so. ‘I'm not staying over. We're bringing another lot up tomorrow.'

‘Oh, well.' Danielle made a face. ‘A girl's got to try.'

Flowergirl won her class, with China Lily a close second, and went on to a third place later in the day. Ross wished the Colonel had made the trip up to see her. He lunched with the Richmond clan in the members' enclosure and emerged, having repeatedly refused large helpings of strawberries and cream, to find Leo and Danny quarrelling furiously.

Leo, it appeared, had gone in search of a ‘quick beer' and hadn't returned for the best part of three-quarters of an hour. Danny, left with four horses and only one pair of hands, was incensed; especially as Clown, with impeccable timing, had chosen that moment to untie himself from the side of the lorry and go in search of greener pastures. Danny had had to enlist the help of a groom from a neighbouring horsebox to watch the remaining horses while he went in pursuit.