Table of Contents
BY DICK FRANCIS AND FELIX FRANCIS
Crossfire
Even Money
Silks
Dead Heat
BY DICK FRANCIS
Under Orders
Shattered
Second Wind
Field of Thirteen
10 Lb. Penalty
To the Hilt
Come to Grief
Wild Horses
Decider
Driving Force
Comeback
Longshot
Straight
The Edge
Hot Money
Bolt
A Jockeys Life
Break In
Proof
The Danger
Banker
Twice Shy
Reflex
Whip Hand
Trial Run
Risk
In the Frame
High Stakes
Knockdown
Slay Ride
Smokescreen
Bonecrack
Rat Race
Enquiry
Forfeit
Blood Sport
Flying Finish
Odds Against
For Kicks
Nerve
Dead Cert
The Sport of Queens
(Autobiography)
For my granddaughter
Sienna Rose
With thanks to my cousin
Ned Francis,
financial adviser
And the offices of
Calkin Pattinson and Company Ltd
And to Debbie,
as always
I was standing right next to Herb Kovak when he was murdered. Executed would have been a better word. Shot three times from close range, twice in the heart and once in the face, he was almost certainly dead before he hit the ground, and definitely before the gunman had turned away and disappeared into the Grand National race-day crowd.
The shooting had happened so fast that neither Herb nor I, nor anyone else for that matter, would have had a chance to prevent it. In fact, I hadnt realized what was actually going on until it was over, and Herb was already dead at my feet. I wondered if Herb himself had had the time to comprehend that his life was in danger before the bullets tore into his body to end it.
Probably not, and I found that strangely comforting.
I had liked Herb.
But someone else clearly hadnt.
The murder of Herb Kovak changed everyones day, not just his.
The police took over the situation with their usual insensitive efficiency, canceling one of the worlds major sporting events with just half an hours notice and requiring the more than sixty thousand frustrated spectators to wait patiently in line for several hours to give their names and addresses.
But you must have seen his face!
I was sitting at a table opposite an exasperated police detective inspector in one of the restaurants that had been cleared of its usual clientele and set up as an emergency-incident room.
Ive already told you, I said. I wasnt looking at the mans face.
I thought back once again to those few fatal seconds and all I could remember clearly was the gun.
So it was a man? the inspector asked.
I think so, I said.
Was he black or white?
The gun was black, I said. With a silencer.
It didnt sound very helpful. Even I could tell that.
Mr.... er. The detective consulted the notebook on the table. Foxton. Is there nothing else you can tell us about the murderer?
Im sorry, I said, shaking my head. It all happened so quickly.
He changed his line of questioning. So how well did you know Mr. Kovak?
Well enough, I said. We work together. Have done for the past five years or so. Id say we are work friends. I paused. At least we were.
It was difficult to believe that he was dead.
What line of work?
Financial services, I said. Were independent financial advisers.
I could almost see the detectives eyes glaze over with boredom.
It may not be as exciting as riding in the Grand National, I said, but its not that bad.
He looked up at my face. And have you ridden in the Grand National? His voice was full of sarcasm, and he was smiling.
As a matter of fact, I have, I said. Twice.
The smile faded. Oh, he said.
Oh, indeed, I thought. And I won it the second time.
It was unlike me to talk much about what I now felt was a previous life, and bragging about it was even more uncharacteristic. I silently rebuked myself for my indulgence, but I was getting a little irritated by the policemans attitude not only towards me but also towards my dead colleague.
He looked down again at his notes.
Foxton, he said reading. He looked up. Not Foxy Foxton?
Yes, I said, although I had long been trying to give up the Foxy nickname, preferring my real name of Nicholas, which I felt was more suited to a serious life in the City.
Well, well, said the policeman. I won a few quid on you.
I smiled. Hed probably lost a few quid too, but I wasnt going to say so.
Not riding today, then?
No, I said. Not for a long time.
Had it really been eight years, I thought, since I had last ridden in a race? In some ways it felt like only yesterday, but in others it was a lifetime away.
The policeman wrote another line in his notebook.
So now youre a financial adviser?
Yes.
Bit of a comedown, wouldnt you say?
I thought about replying that I believed it was better than being a policeman but decided, in the end, that silence was probably the best policy. Anyway, I tended to agree with him. My whole life had been a bit of a comedown since those heady days of hurling myself over Aintree fences with half a ton of horseflesh between my legs.
Who do you advise? he asked.
Anyone who will pay me, I said, rather flippantly.
And Mr. Kovak?
Him too, I said. We both work for a firm of independent financial advisers in the City.
Here in Liverpool? he asked.
No, I said. The City of London.
Which firm?
Lyall and Black, I said. Our offices are in Lombard Street.
He wrote it down.
Can you think of any reason why anyone would want Mr. Kovak dead?
It was the question I had been asking myself over and over again for the past two hours.
No, I said. Absolutely not. Everyone liked Herb. He was always smiling and happy. He was the life and soul of any party.
How long did you say you have known him? asked the detective.
Five years. We joined the firm at the same time.
I understand he was an American citizen.
Yes, I said. He came from Louisville, in Kentucky. He used to go back to the States a couple of times a year.
Everything was written down in the inspectors notebook.
Was he married?
No.
Girlfriend?
None that I knew of, I said.
Were you and he in a gay relationship? the policeman asked in a deadpan tone of voice, his eyes still on his notes.
No, I said, equally deadpan.
Ill find out, you know, he said, looking up.
Theres nothing to find out, I said. I may have worked with Mr. Kovak, but I live with my girlfriend.
Where?
Finchley, I said. North London.
I gave him my full address, and he wrote it down.
Was Mr. Kovak involved in a gay relationship with anyone else?
What makes you think he was gay? I asked.
