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'Did you see a number plate？'
'Not a chance。 I wasn't hanging about for things like that。'
'What else did you see？'
'Nothing。'
'How did you know there was no one in the cab？ There might have been a couple lying in there snogging。'
'Well； there wasn't。 I looked through the window。'
'Open or shut window？'
'Open。' He surprised himself again。 'I looked in fast； on the way past。 No people； just a load of machinery behind the front seats。'
'What sort of machinery？'
'How the eff do I know？ It had handles sticking up。 Like a lawn mower。 I didn't look。 I was in a hurry。 I didn't want to be seen。'
'No；' I agreed。 'How about an ignition key？'
'Hey？' It was a protest of hurt feelings。 'I didn't drive it away。'
'Why not？'
'I don't take every car I see。 Not alone； ever。'
'There's no fun in it if you're alone？'
'Not so much。'
'So there was a key in the ignition？'
'I suppose so。 Yah。'
'Was there one key； or a bunch？'
'Don't know。'
'Was there a key…ring？'
'You don't ask much！'
'Think； then。'
He said unwillingly； 'See； I notice ignition keys。'
'Yes。'
'It was a bunch of keys； then。 They had a silver horseshoe dangling from them on a little chain。 A little horseshoe。 Just an ordinary key…ring。'
We stared at each other briefly。
He said； 'I didn't think anything of it。'
'No；' I agreed。 'You wouldn't。 Well； go back a bit。 When you put your hand on the bonnet； were you looking at the windscreen？'
'I must have been。'
'What was on it？'
'Nothing。 What do you mean？'
'Did it have a tax disc？'
'It must have done； mustn't it？' he said。
'Well； did it have anything else？ Like； say； a sticker saying 〃Save the Tigers〃？'
'No； it didn't。'
'Shut your eyes and think；' I urged him。 'You're running。 You don't want to be seen。 You nearly collide with a Land…Rover。 Your face is quite near the windscreen '
'There was a red dragon；' he interrupted。 'A red circle with a dragon thing in it。 Not very big。 One of those sort of transparent transfers that stick to glass。'
'Great；' I said。 'Anything else？'
For the first time he gave it concentrated thought； but came up with nothing more。
'I'm nothing to do with the police；' I said； 'and I won't spoil your probation and I won't give you away to your aunt； but I'd like to write down what you've told me； and if you agree that I've got it right； will you sign it？'
'Hey。 I don't know。 I don't know why I told you。'
'It might matter a lot。 It might not matter at all。 But I'd like to find this bugger 。。。' God help me； I thought。 I have to。
'So would I。' He meant it。 Perhaps there was hope for him yet。
He turned on his heel and went rapidly alone into the house； not wanting to be seen in even semi…reputable pany； I assumed。 I followed more slowly。 Jonathan had not returned to the drawing…room； where the tenants still sat stolidly； the difficult ； old aunt plained about being woken early； the deaf husband said； 'Eh？' mechanically at frequent intervals and Betty Bracken sat looking into space。 Only the three dogs； now lying down and resting their heads on their front paws； seemed fully sane。
I said to Mrs Bracken； 'Do you by any chance have a typewriter？'
She said incuriously； 'There's one in the office。'
'Er。。。'
'I'll show you。' She rose and led me to a small； tidy back room containing the bones of munication but an impression of under…use。
'I don't know how anything works；' Betty Bracken said frankly。 'We have a part…time secretary； once a week。 Help yourself。'
She left； nodding； and I thanked her； and I found an electric typewriter under a fitted dust…cover； plugged ready into the current。
I wrote：
Finding it difficult to sleep I went for a short walk in the grounds of be Bassett Manor at about three…thirty in the morning。 ＇I inserted the date。＇ In the lane near to the gate of the home paddock I passed a Land…Rover that was parked there。 The vehicle was blue。 I did not look at the number plate。 The engine was still hot when I touched the bonnet in passing。 There was a key in the ignition。 It was one of a bunch of keys on a key…ring which had a silver horseshoe on a chain。 There was no one in the vehicle。 There was some sort of equipment behind the front seat； but I did not take a close look。 On the inside of the windscreen I observed a small transfer of a red dragon in a red circle。 I went past the vehicle and returned to the house。
Under another fitted cover I located a copier； so I left the little office with three sheets of paper and went in search of Jonathan； running him to earth eating a haphazard breakfast in the kitchen。 He paused over his cereal； spoon in air； while he read what I'd written。 Wordlessly； I produced a ballpoint pen and held it out to him。
He hesitated； shrugged and signed the first of the papers with loops and a flourish。
'Why three？ he asked suspiciously； pushing the copies away。
'One for you；' I said calmly。 'One for my records。 One for the on…going file of bits and pieces which may eventually catch our villain。'
'Oh。' He considered。 'All right then。' He signed the other two sheets and I gave him one to keep。 He seemed quite pleased with his civic…mindedness。 He was re…reading his edited deposition over his flakes as I left。
Back in the drawing…room； looking for her； I asked where Mrs Bracken had gone。 The aunt； the tenants and the deaf husband made no reply。
Negotiating the hinterland passage and the dustbin yard again； I arrived back at the field； to see Mrs Bracken herself； the fence…leaners； the Scots vet and her brother watching the horse ambulance drive into the field and draw up conveniently close to the colt。
The horse ambulance consisted of a narrow low…slung trailer pulled by a Range Rover。 There was a driver and a groom used to handling sick and injured horses and； with crooning noises from the solicitous Eva； the poor young colt made a painful…looking； head…bobbing stagger up a gentle ramp into the waiting stall。
'Oh dear； oh dear；' Mrs Bracken whispered beside me。 'My dear； dear； young fellow 。。。 how could they？'
I shook my head。 Rachel Ferns' pony and four prized colts 。。。 How could anyone。
The colt was shut into the trailer； the bucket containing the foot was loaded； and the pathetic twelve…mile journey to Lambourn began。
The Scots vet patted Betty Bracken sympathetically on the arm； gave her his best wishes for the colt； claimed his car from the line of vehicles in the lane； and drove away。
I unclipped my mobile phone and got through to The Pump； who forwarded my call to an irate newspaperman at his home in Surrey。
Kevin Mills yelled； 'Where the hell are you？ They say all anyone gets on the Hotline now is your answering machine； saying you'll call back。 About fifty people have phoned。 They're all rambling。'
'Ramblers；' I said。
'What？'
I explained。
'It's supposed to be my day off；' he grumbled。 'Can you meet me in the pub？ What time？ Five o'clock？'
'Make it seven；' I suggested。
'It's no longer a Pump exclusive； I suppose you realise？' he demanded。 'But save yourself for me alone； will you； buddy？ Give me the