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i for any of the other amputations； but so far they haven't managed it。 It's early days； though。 They'll dig and dig； you can bet on it。'
'Yeah。'
'None of the Land…Rover evidence will get into the papers because the sub judice rule kicked in the minute they remanded him。 Mostly； that helps us but you； as Sid Halley； won't be able to justify yourself in print until after the trial。'
'Even if I can then。'
'Juries are unpredictable。'
'And the law is； frequently； an ass。'
'People in the Force are already saying you're off your rocker。 They say Ellis is too well known。 They say that wherever he went he would be recognised； therefore if no one recognised him； that in itself is proof he wasn't there。'
'Mm；' I said。 'I've been thinking about that。 Do you have time off at the weekend？'
'Not this weekend； no。 Monday do you？'
'I'll see if I can fix something up with Archie 。。。 and Jonathan。'
'And there's another thing；' Norman said； 'the Land…Rover's presence at be Bassett is solid in itself； but Jonathan； if he gets as far as the witness box； will be a meal for Ellis's lawyers。 On probation for stealing cars！ What sort of a witness is that？'
'I understood the jury isn't allowed to know anything about a witness。 I was at a trial once in the Central Law Courts…the Old Bailey when a beautifully dressed and blow…dried twenty…six…year…old glamour boy gave evidence all lies and the jury weren't allowed to know that he was already serving a sentence for confidence tricks and had e to court straight from jail； via the barber and the wardrobe room。 The jury thought him a lovely young man。 So much for juries。'
'Don't you believe in the jury system？'
'I would believe in it if they were told more。 How can a jury e to a prison…or…freedom decision if half the facts are withheld？ There should be no inadmissable evidence。'
'You're naive。'
'I'm Sid Public； remember？ The law bends over backwards to give the accused the benefit of the slightest doubt。 The victim of murder is never there to give evidence。 The colt in Lambourn can't talk。 It's safer to kill animals。 I'm sorry； but I can't stand what Ellis has bee。'
He said flatly； 'Emotion works against you in the witness box。'
'Don't worry。 In court； I'm a block of ice。'
'So I've heard。'
'You've heard too damned much。'
He laughed。 'There's an old…boy internet；' he said。 'All you need is the password and a whole new world opens up。'
'What's the password？'
'I can't tell you。'
'Don't bugger me about。 What's the password？'
'Archie；' he said。
I was silent for all of ten seconds； remembering Archie's eyes the first time I met him； remembering the awareness； the message of knowledge。 Archie knew more about me than I knew about him。
I asked； 'What exactly does Archie do in the Civil Service？'
'I reckon；' Norman said； amused； 'that he's very like you； Sid。 What he don't want you to know； he don't tell you。'
'Where can I reach you on Monday？'
'Police station。 Say you're John Paul Jones。'
Kevin Mills dominated the front page of The Pump on Friday…a respite from the sexual indiscretions of cabinet ministers but a demolition job on myself。 'The Pump；' he reminded readers； had set up a Hotline to Sid Halley to report attacks on colts。 Owners had been advised to lock their stable doors； and to great effect had done so after the Derby。 The Pump disclaims all responsibility for Sid Halley now ludicrously fingering Ellis Quint as the demon responsible for torturing defenceless horses。 Ellis Quint； whose devotion to thoroughbreds stretches back to his own starry career as the country's top amateur race…rider； the popular hero who braved all perils in the ancient tradition of gentlemen sportsmen 。。。' More of the same。
'See also 〃Analysis〃 on page 10； and India Cathcart； page 15。' I supposed one had to know the worst。 I read the leader column…'Should an ex…jockey be allowed free rein as pseudo sleuth？ （Answer： no； of course not。）' and then； dredging deep for steel； I finally turned to India Cathcart's piece。
Sid Halley； smugly accustomed to acclaim as a champion； in short time lost his career； his wife and his left hand； and then weakly watched his friend soar to super…celebrity and national star status； all the things that he considered should be his。 Who does this pathetic little man think he's kidding？ He's no Ellis Quint。 He's a has…been with an ego problem； out to ruin what he envies。
That was for starters。 The next section pitilessly but not accurately dissected the impulse that led one to pete at speed （ignoring the fact that presumably Ellis himself had felt the same power…hungry inferiority plex）。
My ruthless will to win； India Cathcart had written； had destroyed everything good in my own life。 The same will to win now aimed to destroy my friend Ellis Quint。 This was ambition gone mad。
The Pump would not let it happen。 Sid Halley was a beetle ripe for squashing。 The Pump would exterminate。 The Halley myth was curtains。
Damn and blast her； I thought and； for the first time in eighteen years； got drunk。
On Saturday morning； groaning around the flat with a headache； I found a message in my Fax machine。
Handwritten scrawl； Pump…headed paper same as before 。。。
Kevin Mills。
Sid； sorry； but you asked for it。
You're still a shit。
Most of Sunday I listened to voices on my answering machine delivering the same opinion。
Two calls relieved the gloom。
One from Charles Roland； my ex…father…in…law。 'Sid； if you're in trouble； there's always Aynsford；' and a second from Archie Kirk； 'I'm at home。 Norman Picton says you want me。'
Two similar men； I thought gratefully。 Two men with cool dispassionate minds who would listen before condemning。
I phoned back to Charles； who seemed relieved I sounded sane。
'I'm all right；' I said。
'Ellis is a knight in shining armour； though。'
'Yeah。'
'Are you sure； Sid？'
'Positive。'
'But Ginnie 。。。 and Gordon 。。。 they're friends。'
'Well；' I said； 'if I cut the foot off a horse； what would you do？'
'But you wouldn't。'
'No。'
I sighed。 That was the trouble。 No one could believe it of Ellis。
'Sid； e； any time；' Charles said。
'You're my rock；' I said； trying to make it sound light。 'I'll e if I need to。'
'Good。'
I phoned Archie and asked if Jonathan were still staying with Betty Bracken。
Archie said； 'I've been talking to Norman。 Jonathan is now addicted to water ski…ing and spends every day at the lake。 Betty is paying hundreds and says it's worth it to get him out of the house。 He'll be at the lake tomorrow。 Shall we all meet there？'
We agreed on a time； and met。
When we arrived； Jonathan was out on the water。
'That's him；' Norman said； pointing。
The flying figure in a scarlet wet…suit went up a ramp； flew； turned a somersault in the air and landed smoothly in the water on two skis。
'That；' Archie said in disbelief； 'is Jonathan？
'He's a natural；' Norman said。 'I've been out here for a bit most days。 Not only does he know his spatial balance and attitude by instinct； but he's fearless。'
Archie and I silently watched Jonathan appr