Dick Francis - Enquiry

More silence.

Ferth’s voice went on a shade anxiously. ‘Norman, if you instructed a Stipendiary Steward to interview West privately and question him further, for heaven’s sake say so. These jockeys stick together. It is perfectly reasonable to believe that West wouldn’t speak up against Hughes to begin with, but might do so if pressed with questions. Did you send a Stipendiary?’

Gower said faintly, ‘No.’

‘Then how did you know what West was going to say?’

Gowery didn’t answer. He said instead, ‘I did instruct a Stipendiary to look up all the races in which Cranfield had run two horses and compile me a list of all the occasions when the lesser-backed had won. And as you know, it is the accepted practice to bring up everything in a jockey’s past history at an Enquiry. It was a perfectly normal procedure.’

‘I’m not saying it wasn’t,’ Ferth’s voice said, puzzled.

Ferth stopped the recorder and raised his eyebrows at me.

‘What d’you make of that ?’

‘He’s grabbing for a rock in a quicksand.’

He sighed, pressed the starter again and Gowery’s voice came back.

‘It was all there in black and white... It was quite true... they’d been doing it again and again.’

‘What do you mean, it was quite true? Did someone tell you they’d been doing it again and again?’

More silence. Gowery’s rock was crumbling.

Again Ferth didn’t press him. Instead he said in the same unaccusing way, ‘How about David Oakley?’

‘Who?’

‘David Oakley. The enquiry agent who photographed the money in Hughes’ flat. Who suggested that he should go there?’

No answer.

Ferth said with the first faint note of insistence, ‘Norman, you really must give some explanation. Can’t you see that all this silence just won’t do? We have to have some answers if we are going to squash Hughes’ rumours.’

Gowery reacted with defence in his voice. ‘The evidence against Cranfield and Hughes was collected. What does it matter who collected it?’

‘It matters because Hughes asserts that much of it was false.’

‘No,’ he said fiercely. ‘It was not false.’

‘Norman,’ Ferth said, ‘Is that what you believe... or what you want to believe?’

‘Oh...’ Gowery’s exclamation was more of anguish than surprise. I looked sharply across at Ferth. His dark eyes were steady on my face. His voice went on, softer again. Persuasive.

‘Norman, was there any reason why you wanted Cranfield and Hughes warned off?’

‘No.’ Half a shout. Definitely a lie.

‘Any reason why you should go so far as to manufacture evidence against them, if none existed?’

‘Wykeham!’ He was outraged. ‘How can you say that! You are suggesting... You are suggesting... something so dishonourable...’

Ferth pressed the stop button. ‘Well?’ he said challengingly.

‘That was genuine,’ I said. ‘He didn’t manufacture it himself. But then I never thought he did. I just wanted to know where he got it from.’

Ferth nodded. Pressed the start again.

His voice. ‘My dear Norman, you lay yourself open to such suggestions if you will not say how you came by all the evidence. Do you not see? If you will not explain how you came by it, you cannot be too surprised if you are thought to have procured it yourself.’

‘The evidence was genuine!’ he asserted. A rearguard action.

‘You are still trying to convince yourself that it was.’

‘No! It was.’

‘Then where did it come from?’

Gowery’s back was against the wall. I could see from the remembered emotion twisting Ferth’s face that this had been a saddening and perhaps embarrassing moment.

‘I was sent,’ said Gowery with difficulty, ‘A package. It contained... various statements... and six copies of the photograph taken in Hughes’ flat.’

‘Who sent it to you?’

Gowery’s voice was very low. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know?’ Ferth was incredulous. ‘You warned two men off on the strength of it, and you don’t know where it came from?’

A miserable assenting silence.

‘You just accepted all that so called evidence on its face value?’

‘It was all true.’ He clung to it.

‘Have you still got that package?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’d like to see it.’ A touch of iron in Ferth’s voice.

Gowery hadn’t argued. There were sounds of moving about, a drawer opening and closing, a rustling of papers.

‘I see,’ Ferth said slowly. ‘These papers do, in fact, look very convincing.’

‘Then you see why I acted on them,’ Gowery said eagerly, with a little too much relief.

‘I can see why you should consider doing so... after making a careful check.’

‘I did check.’

‘To what extent?’

‘Well... the package only came four days before the Enquiry. On the Thursday before. I had the Secretaries send out the summonses to Newtonnards, Oakley and West immediately. They were asked to confirm by telegram that they would be attending, and they all did so. Newtonnards was asked to bring his records for the Lemonfizz Cup. And then of course I asked a Stipendiary to ask the Totalisator people if anyone had backed Cherry Pie substantially, and he collected those affidavits... the ones we produced at the Enquiry. There was absolutely no doubt whatsoever that Cranfield had backed Cherry Pie. He lied about it at the Enquiry. That made it quite conclusive. He was entirely guilty, and there was no reason why I should not warn him off.’

Ferth stopped the recorder. ‘What do you say to that?’ he asked.

I shrugged. ‘Cranfield did back Cherry Pie. He was stupid to deny it, but admitting it was, as he saw it, cutting his own throat. He told me that he backed him — through this unidentified friend — with Newtonnards and on the Tote, and not with his normal bookmaker, because he didn’t want Kessel to know, as Kessel and the bookmaker are tattle-swapping buddies. He in fact put a hundred pounds on Cherry Pie because he thought the horse might be warming up to give everyone a surprise. He also put two hundred and fifty pounds on Squelch, because reason suggested that he would win. And where is the villainy in that?’

Ferth looked at me levelly. ‘You didn’t know he had backed Cherry Pie, not at the Enquiry.’

‘I tackled him with it afterwards. It had struck me by then that that had to be true, however hard he had denied it. Newtonnards might have lied or altered his books, but no one can argue against Tote tickets.’

‘That was one of the things which convinced me too,’ he admitted.

He started the recorder. He himself was speaking and now there was a distinct flavour in his voice of cross examination. The whole interview moved suddenly into the shape of an Enquiry of its own. ‘This photograph... didn’t it seem at all odd to you?’

‘Why should it?’ Gowery said sharply.

‘Didn’t you ask yourself how it came to be taken?’

‘No.’

‘Hughes says Oakley took the money and the note with him and simply photographed them in his flat.’

‘No.’

‘How can you be sure?’ Ferth pounced on him.

‘No!’ Gowery said again. There was a rising note in his voice, the sound of pressure approaching blow-up.

‘Who sent Oakley to Hughes’ flat?’

‘I’ve told you, I don’t know.’

‘But you’re sure that is a genuine photograph?’

‘Yes. Yes it is.’

‘You are sure beyond doubt?’ Ferth insisted.

‘Yes!’ The voice was high, the anxiety plain, the panic growing. Into this screwed up moment Ferth dropped one intense word, like a bomb.

‘ Why? ’