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The answers at first had been freely given； but； as time went on； news of my mission spread before me until I was progressively met by hostile faces and frankly closed doors。 Shropshire was solid Ellis country。 They'd have stood on their heads to prove him unjustly accused。 They were not going to say that they didn't know when he'd arrived。
In the end I returned to the duchess's front gates； and from there drove as fast as prudence allowed； to the Windward Stud Farm； timing the journey at two hours and five minutes。 On empty roads at night； Northampton to the duchess might have taken ten minutes less。 I'd proved nothing except that Ellis had had time。
Enough time was not enough。
As always before gathering at such dances； the guests had given and attended dinner parties both locally and further away。 No one that I'd asked had entertained Ellis to dinner。
No dinner was not enough。
I went through the guest list crossing off the people I'd seen。 There were still far more then half unconsulted； most of whom I'd never heard of。
Where was Chico？ I needed him often。 I hadn't the time； or to be frank； the appetite to locate and question all the guests； even if they would answer。 There must have been people local people…helping with the parking of cars that night。 Chico would have chatted people up in the local pubs and found out if any of the car…parkers remembered Ellis's arrival。 Chico was good at pubs； and I wasn't in his class。
The police might have done it； but they wouldn't。 The death of a colt still didn't count like murder。
The police。
I phoned Norman Picton's police station number and gave my name as John Paul Jones。
He came on the line in a good humour and listened to me without protest。
'Let me get this straight；' he said。 'You want me to ask favours of the Northamptonshire police？ What do I offer in return？'
'Blood in the hinges of lopping shears。'
'They'll have made their own tests。'
'Yes； and that Northamptonshire colt is dead and gone to the glue factory。 An error； wouldn't you say？ Might they not do you a favour in exchange for miseration？'
'You'll have my head off。 What is it you actually want？
'Er 。。。' I began； 'I was there when the police found the lopping shears in the hedge。'
'Yes； you told me。'
'Well； I've been thinking。 Those shears weren't wrapped in sacking； like the ones we took from the Quints。'
'No； and the shears weren't the same； either。 The ones at Northampton are a slightly newer model。 They're on sale everywhere in garden centres。 The problem is that Ellis Quint hasn't been reported as buying any； not in the Northamptonshire police district； nor ours。'
'Is there any chance；' I asked； 'of my looking again at the material used for wrapping the shears？'
'If there are horse hairs in it； there's nothing left to match them to； same as the blood。'
'All the same； the cloth might tell us where the shears came from。 Which garden centre； do you see？'
'I'll see if they've done that already。'
'Thanks； Norman。'
'Thank Archie。 He drives me to help you。'
'Does he？'
He heard my surprise。 'Archie has influence；' he said； 'and I do what the magistrate tells me。'
When he'd gone off the line I tried Kevin Mills again and reached the same electronic voice： 'Please try later。'
After that I sat in an armchair while the daylight faded and the lights came on in the peaceful square。 We were past the equinox； back in winter thoughts； the year dying ahead。 Autumn for me had for almost half my life meant the longed…for resurgence of major jump racing； the time of big winners and speed and urgency in the blood。 Winter now brought only nostalgia and heating bills。 At thirty…four I was growing old。
I sat thinking of Ellis and the wasteland he had made of my year。 I thought of Rachel Ferns and Silverboy； and lymphoblasts。 I thought of the Press； and especially The Pump and India Cathcart and the orchestrated months of vilification。 I thought of Ellis's relentless jokes。
I thought for a long time about Archie Kirk； who had drawn me to be Bassett and given me Norman Picton。 I wondered if it had been from Archie that Norman had developed a belief in a heavy presence behind the scenes。 I wondered if it could possibly be Archie who had prompted Davis Tatum to engage me to find that heavyweight。 I wondered if it could possibly have been Archie who told Davis Tatum about my run…in with the bad hat at the Jockey Club； and if so； how did he know？
I trusted Archie。 He could pull my strings； I thought； as long as I was willing to go where he pointed； and as long as I was sure no one was pulling his。
I thought about Gordon Quint's uncontrollable rage； and the practical difficulties his fencing post had inflicted。 I thought of Ginnie Quint and despair and sixteen floors down。
I thought of the colts and their chopped…off feet。
When I went to bed I dreamed the same old nightmare。
Agony。 Humiliation。 Both hands。
I awoke sweating。
Damn it all to hell。
CHAPTER 9
In the morning； when I'd failed yet again to get an answer from Kevin Mills； I shunted by tube across central London and emerged not far from panies House at 55 City Road； E。G。
panies House； often my friend； contained the records of all public and private limited panies active in the United Kingdom； including the audited annual balance sheets； investment capital； fixed assets and the names of major shareholders and the directors of the boards。
Topline Foods； I soon learned； was an old pany recently taken over by a few new big investors and a bustling new management。 The chief shareholder and managing director was listed as Owen Cliff Yorkshire。 There were fifteen non…executive directors； of whom one was Lord Tilepit。
The premises at which business was carried out were located at Frodsham in Cheshire。 The registered office was at the same address。
The product of the pany was foodstuffs for animals。
After Topline； I looked up Village Pump Newspapers （they'd dropped the 'Village' in about 1900； but retained the idea of a central meeting place for gossip） and found interesting items； and after Village Pump Newspapers I looked up the TV pany that aired Ellis's sports programme； but found no sign of Tilepit or Owen Yorkshire in its operations。
I travelled home （safely） and phoned Archie； who was； his wife reported； at work。
'Can I reach him at work？' I asked。
'Oh no； Sid。 He wouldn't like it。 I'll give him a message when he gets back。'
Please try later。
I tried Kevin Mills later and this time nearly got my eardrums perforated。 'At last！'
'I've tried you a dozen times；' I said。
'I've been in an old people's home。'
'Well； bully for you。'
'A nurse hastened three harpies into the hereafter。'
'Poor old sods。'
'If you're in Pont Square；' he said； 'can I call round and see you。 I'm in my car not far away。'
'I thought I was The Pump's number one all…time shit。'
'Yeah。 Can I e？'
'I suppose so。'
'Great。' He clicked off before I could change my mind and he was at my door in less than ten minutes。
'This is nice；' he said appreciatively； looking round my sitting…room。 'Not wha