Crossfire by Dick;Felix Francis Francis Read Free Book Online

two heads.” My mother’s attempts at humor rarely came off. “Of course he looks all right.”
    “Has he got diarrhea?” I asked.
    Ian gave me a pained look.
    “And why, pray, would he have diarrhea?” my mother asked haughtily, with strong accusation in her tone.
    Ian stood quite still, looking at me. His jaw set as in stone.
    “I just wondered,” I said, letting him off this particular hook. “I know horses can’t vomit, so I just wondered if he had a stomach upset that might show itself as diarrhea.”
    “Nonsense,” my mother said. “Horses only get diarrhea with dirty or moldy feed, and we are very careful to keep our feed clean and fresh. Isn’t that right, Ian?”
    “Oh yes, ma’am,” he said immediately.
    I thought, perhaps unfairly, that Ian would have said “Yes, ma’am” to any request at that precise moment, even if she’d asked him to jump off the stable roof.
    The inspection of Pharmacist was over, and my mother came out through the door followed by Ian, who slid home the door bolts.
    Personally, if it had been my best horse that had inexplicably run so badly, I would have had a vet out here last night drawing blood and giving him the full once-over, testing his heart, his lungs and everything else, for that matter. Strangely, my mother seemed satisfied with a quick look and a cursory feel of his legs.
    “How long before the dope-test results are out?” I said, somewhat unwisely.
    “What dope test?” my mother asked sharply.
    “The one that was ordered by the stewards.”
    “And how do you know they ordered a dope test?” she demanded.
    “It says so in today’s Racing Post. ”
    “I told you not to read that paper,” she said crossly.
    “I don’t always do what I’m told,” I said.
    “No,” my mother said. “That’s the problem. You never did.”
    She turned abruptly and strode away, leaving Ian and me standing alone.
    “So what do you think?” I asked him.
    “Don’t involve me,” he said. “I’m in enough trouble already.”
    He turned to walk away.
    “But wouldn’t you have had a vet in last night?” I said to his retreating back.
    “I told you,” he said over his shoulder without stopping, “don’t involve me. I need this job.”
    I called after him, “You do realize there won’t be a job if someone has been nobbling the horses. There won’t be any jobs here. The yard will be closed down.”
    He stopped and came back.
    “Don’t you think I know that?” he said through clenched teeth.
    “Well, what are you going to do about it?” I asked.
    “Nothing,” he said.
    “Nothing?”
    “That’s right. Nothing. If I say anything I’ll lose my job, and then I’ll have no job and no reference. What chance would I have then?”
    “Better than having a reputation as a doper,” I said.
    He stood silently, looking up at me.
    “So far the tests have all been negative. Let’s hope they stay that way.”
    “But you think otherwise, don’t you?” I said.
    “Something strange is going on. That’s all I know. Now let me get on with my job, while I still have it.”
    He strode away purposefully, leaving me alone outside Pharmacist’s stall. I opened the top half of the door and took another look at the horse. As yesterday on the television, he looked all right to me.
    But, then, I was no vet.
     
     
    T he atmosphere back in the house was frosty, to put it mildly. Positively subzero, and it had nothing to do with Pharmacist or any of the other horses. It had to do with money.
    “Josephine, we simply can’t afford it.”
    I could hear my stepfather almost shouting. He and my mother were in the little office off the hallway, while I was sitting very quietly out of sight in the kitchen, eavesdropping. They must have been far too involved in their discussion to have heard me come in from the yard, so I had simply sat down and listened.
    Some might have accused me of being somewhat underhanded in secretly listening to their conversation. They would have