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suppose’ – she glanced back the way they’d come – ‘I was right.’
    â€˜It makes sense to you, then,’ said Daniel. ‘That she’d take an overdose.’
    Mary Walbrook sighed. ‘I’m afraid it does, Mr Hood. The state she’s been in the last few weeks I’ve kept waiting for the
phone to ring. It was no surprise at all when the police called me.’
    Daniel was nodding slowly. ‘What about her mother? Does she know what’s happened?’
    â€˜Ally’s mother died when she was three. A brain tumour. It was always Ally and Stanley, as far back as she could remember. Now she’s alone.’
    â€˜She must have friends?’
    â€˜She had friends,’ agreed Mary. ‘Six months ago she was on the crest of a wave and she had a lot of friends. When the yard got into trouble, suddenly she hadn’t quite as many. None of us had. When she lost the horses a few more disappeared. But her real friends, the ones who cared about her, hung on in there until she made it impossible for them. She was crazy after Stanley’s death, thrashing around looking for someone to blame. People tried to help her – she wouldn’t let them. She flung wild accusations at everyone. One by one she exhausted their sympathy. Her behaviour caused a lot of hurt. In the end people walked away. There’s only so much abuse anyone’s prepared to take.’
    Daniel gave a sombre smile. ‘So why are you here?’
    The woman chuckled. ‘Because if we’re not exactly family we nearly are, and family can’t cut and run when the going gets tough. I knew what she was going through, I made allowances for it. Somehow we managed to stay on speaking terms after Stanley’s death. Until just now I thought I was the only person left who cared what became of her.’
    It wasn’t an accusation but he defended himself as if it was. ‘She just seemed so – alone. So angry and alone. And I was afraid that she was in danger.’
    â€˜Like I said, she became very difficult. She thought the world was against her.’
    â€˜She was fantasising?’ said Daniel. ‘You’re sure?’
    â€˜As sure as I can be. When her father died she wanted the police to launch a murder inquiry. They listened politely to what she had to say but there was no sense in it, no basis in fact. They were sorry for her too, but they couldn’t give her the kind of help she wanted and she wasn’t interested in the kind of help she
needed. I begged her to go for counselling. It was the closest we came to a bust-up. She slapped my face. It was good advice but I knew before I opened my mouth that she wouldn’t take it.’
    They’d reached the front of the hospital. Mary Walbrook led the way to her car. Daniel was expecting something racier than this elderly Land Rover. He caught himself staring and looked away, hoping she hadn’t noticed. Of course, she had. ‘There are two reasons I don’t drive a Ferrari. One is, it wouldn’t tow a horse trailer. The other is, I can’t afford it.’
    â€˜Do you ride horses too?’
    â€˜Not so much these days. The ground gets harder once you pass thirty. That’s why I stopped competing and started dealing.’
    Daniel knew nothing about horses, and it seemed he knew nothing about dealers either. He thought they were men in flat hats, checked suits and canary-coloured waistcoats. He thought smoking cigars was probably compulsory. ‘In show-jumpers?’
    â€˜Competition horses generally. What we’ve started calling sports horses – they’re worth more that way. Show-jumpers, eventers, dressage horses, hunters. All the way from the Hickstead or Badminton hopeful down to children’s schoolmasters. There are a lot of horses out there, but most of them are rubbish. You can waste a lot of time and money looking for a good one. Or you can pay me to find it