Free Kickback by Damien Boyd Page B

on the bar. It was already open at the Exeter racecard.
    ‘I wonder what all these numbers mean?’ said Dixon.
    ‘Here, let me,’ said the barman. He pointed to one of the horses. ‘That’s the age. That’s the weight it’s carrying and that’s its recent results. Trainer and jockey. The latest odds are on the screens or you can get them from the on course bookmakers out front.’
    ‘What’s the ‘P’ then?’
    ‘Pulled up.’
    ‘Which makes the ‘F’ fell?’
    ‘That’s it.’
    ‘What are these?’
    ‘That’s the Official Rating and that’s the Racing Post Rating. They’re based on the form.’
    ‘What’s the significance of the weight?’
    ‘In a handicap the more weight it’s carrying the better the horse. That’s the handicap.’
    ‘Thank you.’
    ‘Good luck.’
    Dixon looked at the racecard for the 2.40pm. Midnight Blue was five years old and carrying more weight than the other horses in the race. His last five results were 4U3/22.
    ‘What’s the ‘U’?’ asked Jane.
    ‘Unseated rider, I suppose.’
    ‘So, he’s finished second in his last two races?’
    ‘He has.’
    ‘The jockey is S McCarthy it says.’
    ‘That’s Sam,’ replied Jane, ‘I’m waiting to hear from the Jockey Club about him.’
    ‘Let’s check the odds.’
    Dixon walked over and stood in front of one of the wall mounted screens.
    ‘He’s the favourite. Two to one.’
    ‘What does that mean?’
    ‘I bet a quid and get two if he wins. Plus I get my quid back.’
    ‘What’s seven to two then?’
    ‘I suppose it’s the equivalent of three point five to one,’ said Dixon.
    The second favourite was called Hogan’s Missile at odds of seven to two. His results were similar to Midnight Blue’s although he had, at least, finished each race.
    ‘Which one are you going to go for?’
    ‘Well, Hesp’s rarely win by all accounts so I’ll go for Hogan’s Missile, I think.’
    They stood in the window of the bar and watched the 2.10pm. There was one faller but both horse and rider got straight to their feet.
    ‘Let’s get down to the betting ring.’
    They walked around the ring until Dixon found the best odds on Hogan’s Missile. One bookmaker was offering four to one and Dixon placed ten pounds on the horse to win. He turned to Jane.
    ‘We need to get somewhere we can see the parade ring.’
    Dixon watched through his binoculars from in front of the grandstand. He could see Kevin Tanner leading Midnight Blue towards the parade ring. Behind them walked Michael Hesp. He was wearing tweed.
    He watched Tanner take out his mobile phone and dial a number, before putting the phone to his right ear. At precisely the same moment, Dixon heard a phone ringing in front of him, down amongst the on course bookmakers in the betting ring. It was answered by a large man standing under an orange and white umbrella. The sign on his stand read J Clapham Racing. Dixon looked from one to the other. The synchronisation of Tanner and the man speaking and listening was perfect and they both rang off at the same time. Dixon was convinced they had been speaking to each other.
    The man turned around and began typing on a keyboard out of Dixon’s eyeline. Dixon watched through his binoculars and noticed Midnight Blue’s odds on the black and orange LED display change from two to one to four to one. Dixon was astonished at how quickly a small queue then formed. 
    ‘Got your notebook, Jane?’ asked Dixon.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Make a note will you? Kevin Tanner’s mobile phone records and J Clapham Racing. We need to speak to both of them too.’
    The horses left the parade ring and made their way out onto the course. Dixon could feel his pulse quicken. Midnight Blue’s colours were light blue with a large white circle in the middle. Hogan’s Missile’s were red and black squares, much like Dixon’s old school rugby shirt.
    Then they were off.
    Dixon followed the horses through his binoculars. He lost them briefly in a dip on