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Authors: Lyndon Stacey

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‘Look. There's one of the hounds,' Pippa said, pointing, and within moments the whole pack were streaming under and over the stile in the far corner of the field. Giving tongue sporadically they headed
towards a pile of half a dozen plastic-wrapped hay bales, where they gathered round, pushing and shoving one another for best position.

‘Is there something there for them to find?' Gideon asked Penny.

‘Just a few bits of meat,' she said. ‘Gives them extra incentive. Ray – the huntsman – will give them all something when he gets here.'

As if on cue, the huntsman and one of his whips jumped into the field over the stile, followed closely by the second whip, and galloped to where the hounds were. Moments later Lloyd appeared, riding his second horse, and on his heels, the rest of the field.

If there was any doubt about Blackbird's eagerness to rejoin the action, it was swiftly banished now. As the other horses came into sight, he suddenly plunged his head between his knees in an attempt to loosen Gideon's grip, and, when that didn't work, began to paw the ground with an impatient foreleg.

When the field had come to a halt, many of them dismounting to rest their tiring horses, the waiting group rode over to join them. Gideon's eyes searched in vain for the man on the bay. With so many horses and riders, some now on foot or facing the other way, it was impossible to get a good look at all of them without riding round and among them.

Lloyd spotted Pippa and led his horse across.

‘Everything all right? Oh, dear! What happened to you?'

‘Blackbird put his foot in the ditch,' Gideon said.

‘And the rest!' Pippa said explosively.

Lloyd looked questioningly at each of them in turn, but Gideon merely shook his head slightly.

‘Not now.'

‘Something I should know?'

‘Later maybe,' Gideon said. ‘How long will this line be? Do you think it'll be all right for this fella after his fall?'

‘Oh, yes, I should think so. It's about three miles but Steve usually lays a trickier line for the last one – more breaks and less jumps, because the horses are tiring. Makes the hounds work. It's more like the real thing.'

Within ten minutes they were under way, and to Gideon's relief Blackbird seemed unaffected by his experiences at the hedge and ditch, and continued to jump eagerly and apparently without fear. Gideon couldn't decide whether this was due to bravery or stupidity, and said as much to Pippa during a pause in the run.

‘Actually, I think it's because he trusts you,' she said, as they watched hounds quartering the headland in search of scent. ‘His ears are constantly flicking back and forth. For some reason the old bugger listens to everything you say. Never mind that I'm the one who feeds him and sees to his every need!'

‘I've heard it said that horses are incredibly good judges of character,' Gideon said, straight-faced.

‘But then, everyone makes a mistake, once in a while,' she replied sweetly, as first one hound and then another picked up the trail and began to give tongue excitedly.

Seconds later the whole pack was streaming
across the field in full cry, robbing Gideon of the opportunity of comeback.

At the end of the day, with horses installed in their trailers and boxes, rugged up and pulling at haynets, the members of the field and foot-followers were treated to hot soup and garlic bread in the barn at Catsfinger Farm.

‘Is he here?' Pippa asked, coming across to where Gideon and Eve sat on hay bales against the wall. She was wearing a polo-necked jumper over her white shirt and a Puffa jacket in place of her black one, but her cream breeches were saddle-stained and splashed with mud. ‘Oh, hi, Eve. I was just telling Lloyd what that idiot did but I couldn't see him anywhere.'

‘I think he must have gone on home. I couldn't see him either,' Gideon said. He'd changed into a spare pair of jeans and a jumper that he'd had the foresight to bring with him.

‘Well, Lloyd was furious. He asked a couple of people if they knew who the guy was and they seemed to think he wasn't from round here. Not a regular, anyway. So I don't think there's a lot we can do . . .'

‘Gideon was just telling me what happened,' Eve said. ‘What a bastard! Just because you accidentally bumped his horse. It's not as if you meant to do it. What about the other one,is he still here?'

‘What other one?' Pippa said sharply, looking at Gideon.

‘I'd forgotten after the fall, but earlier on there was another bloke on a grey horse, and the two of them came up either side and tried to put Blackbird off his stride. I wasn't sure it was deliberate, at the
time, but in light of the other . . . But I'm afraid I didn't get a good look at the one on the grey.'

‘It was a grey horse that started it all by backing into Sky at the meet,' Pippa said, frowning.

‘Yes, but there had to be at least half a dozen greys in the field, if not more,' Gideon reminded her. ‘I guess we just have to accept the guy was a complete moron and forget it. It's not likely I'll ever see either of them again, anyway.'

‘It's a shame, though,' Pippa said. ‘I so wanted you to enjoy today . . .'

‘Well, I did enjoy it,' he told her. ‘I admit I didn't think I would, but Blackbird was brilliant, and I had great fun – in between times.'

‘You know you're all completely mad, don't you?' Eve remarked, turning to meet Lloyd as he came over.

Lloyd quite patently had news. ‘Have you heard the latest about Damien's murder?' he asked, ignoring Eve's last comment. ‘They've just said, on the news, they've arrested someone – well, taken him in for questioning, but it's all the same thing. What's more, it's someone I know! You would, too,' he said to Pippa.

‘Well, who is it?' she said impatiently.

‘Adam Tetley.'

‘What, Adam Tetley from our pony-club days?' Pippa said, astounded. ‘Little Adam Tetley who used to keep falling off and getting nosebleeds?'

‘Well, I imagine he's grown up a bit since then,' Lloyd said with amusement. ‘They said on the report that he's thirty-eight and a security guard.'

‘But why would he want to kill Damien?'

‘They're not saying, but the police must have
had some reason for taking him in. He's a crack shot, I can tell you that. He used to do pentathlon when I was doing it.'

‘What
is
pentathlon?' Eve asked. ‘Excuse my ignorance, but sport isn't really my thing.'

‘Riding, shooting, running, swimming and fencing,' Pippa told her.

‘It was the fencing I always liked the best,' Lloyd put in. ‘Matching your skill against another human being, just like the duellists of old . . . Well, except for being wired to a buzzer, of course.'

‘I 'ave buzzed you, M'sieur, and I declare that honour 'as been satisfied,' Eve said, putting on a haughty French accent.

‘It loses something, doesn't it?' Lloyd agreed, laughing.

‘But why would he want to kill him?' Pippa repeated, not diverted by Eve's play-acting. ‘I mean you'd have to have had a pretty big falling-out to want to kill somebody. You'd think Tilly would have heard about it.'

Gideon could have enlightened her but to do so would, no doubt, bring a barrage of questions down on him, to say nothing of betraying his success in deciphering the coded list. He kept silent, and it was left to Lloyd to answer.

‘Well, if he did do it, I expect we'll find out why, in the end, love. But for the time being, let's just be glad they've caught him.'

‘It's hard enough to come to terms with the fact that someone you know has been murdered – but to find that the murderer might also be someone you know, or knew . . . It makes you
wonder how well you really know anyone,' Pippa said. ‘It's a horrible feeling.'

‘Talking of knowing people,' Gideon said, ‘do you know a lady called Vanessa Tate? I met her at Angie's the other day. She's got eventers, and
her
husband used to do pentathlon.'

‘I know
of
her,' Pippa said. ‘I've often seen her name down in the entries for competitions, and I think I may have met her at Wilton, last year, but I don't exactly know her.'

‘I know Vanessa,' Lloyd put in. ‘She comes hunting occasionally. Nice lady. Never really knew Robin, but then, I did more
tri
athlon than
pent
athlon.'

‘I gather he isn't particularly horsy, these days.' Gideon let the remark hang in the air.

‘He's something in the City,' Lloyd supplied. ‘They've got stacks of money. Live in a massive house out at Wimborne St Giles with acres of land.'

‘Is there anyone you
don't
know?' Pippa enquired.

‘A politician has to know his constituents,' he declared grandly.

‘All right, then. How about Sam Bentley?' Gideon asked, seizing the opportunity. He watched Lloyd closely.

‘Bentley? Mm . . . don't think so,' he said, appearing to consider the matter then shaking his head. ‘Why? Who is he?'

‘Just a name that came up in conversation with Tilly the other day. I think it was someone Damien knew but she didn't.'

‘Oh, I see. Well – no, me neither, sorry. Does he live round here?'

‘I'm not sure. That's why I asked.'

It wasn't until the gathering began to break up, and Gideon and Pippa headed back to the lorry to take their weary horses home, that Gideon had the chance to ask her whether Lloyd had ever mentioned the list again.

‘No. I did ask him about it some time ago, but he said he couldn't make head nor tail of it. I think he threw it away.'

‘It wasn't anything to do with betting, after all, then?'

‘No, I don't think so. Actually, thinking about Nero's file, I was going to ask you if it says anything about feedstuffs in there. I've had him on the coarse mix I give my lot, but he seems to be getting very itchy and I wondered if he had a problem with one of the ingredients.'

‘OK, I'll have a look,' Gideon promised.

It was past seven o'clock by the time Gideon had helped Pippa settle and feed the horses, and, just as they were finishing, Giles came out to the tack room with a tray of hot toddies.

‘I knew there was a reason I picked you for a friend, all those years ago,' Gideon said, taking a glass and inhaling the boozy vapours appreciatively.

‘
You
picked
me
?' Giles queried. ‘I was under the impression that I took pity on you and played the good Samaritan. If I'd had any idea that I'd still be saddled with you nearly twenty years down the line . . .'

‘If you ask me, you're a couple of misfits who deserve one another,' Pippa put in. ‘But what I
can't work out is what I've done to deserve being lumbered with the two of you!'

‘Well, if you become the second Mrs Lloyd-Ellis, you won't have to worry about us misfits any more,' Giles suggested lightly.

Pippa's face flushed red.

‘Don't be ridiculous!'

‘Why's it so ridiculous?' her brother enquired.

‘Because we haven't even discussed it and anyway, he's not divorced yet.'

‘Whoops! Have I touched a nerve? I'm sorry, Pip.'

‘No, you didn't. It's not an issue – I mean, it's between me and Lloyd.'

Planting her glass back firmly on the tray, she brushed past Giles on her way to the door, saying over her shoulder, ‘I'm going in to soak in a long, hot bath.'

A hot bath was exactly what Gideon had in mind when he finally got back to the Gatehouse, tired and somewhat achy. However, his wasn't destined to be a long soak because, uncharacteristically, Eve had been busy in the kitchen.

‘I was beginning to think you'd decided to eat at the Priory and all my efforts would have been for nothing,' she called out, as he closed the front door behind him and responded to Zebedee's exuberant greeting.

‘I wouldn't do that to you,' Gideon protested. Cooking aromas wafted out of the kitchen and he recognised onion and lamb. ‘That smells wonderful, but I absolutely must have a bath first.'

‘You've got half a hour, and not a minute more!' Eve warned.

‘Join me?' Standing in the kitchen doorway, he took in a scene of chaotic domestic industry. The sink was piled high with bowls and utensils, the fridge door was half open, a bag of flour lay on its side and a bottle of milk stood, uncapped, on the Aga. ‘Or . . . maybe not.'

She turned round incredulously, a smudge of grease on her chin. ‘What, with all that mud? Anyway, I can't leave this, it's at a crucial stage.'

Closing the fridge door on the way, Gideon crossed to the range, moving the milk bottle from its warm surface to the table and recapping it.

Eve was leafing through the pages of a recipe book with an air of distraction. Her hair lay down her back in a long black plait from which several strands had escaped, and she wore an apron over her ankle-length red dress.

Regarding her affectionately, Gideon completed his circuit of the kitchen, leaning to kiss her cheek as he passed.

The combination of a hot bath, excellent meal, and a crackling log fire was sufficient to reduce Gideon to a state of drowsy torpor, and his eyelids were drooping as he sat on the comfortably scruffy leather sofa with Eve's head resting in his lap. He'd undone her inefficient plait and now her hair lay in a silky riot around her face and over his knee.

Eve's day, however, had been less demanding than Gideon's, and her mind was still active.

‘Those names you were trying out on Lloyd – were they from that list you've been puzzling
over?' she asked suddenly, dragging him back from the brink of sleep.

‘Mm.'

‘So I take it he doesn't know you've deciphered it.'

‘No, not yet.'

‘Why haven't you told him?'

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