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horse! And there, I might have known it’ – irritable flap of a hand on the coffee-table – ‘fellow goes messing about with the horse instead of looking for someone who knew what he’d be doing – heavy breathing, clumsy movements, scared probably, make the horse nervous for sure. Lash out, catch him on the temple and the fellow goes over like a sack of grain, which was just what he was, god-forgive-me-for-speaking-ill.’
    â€˜Who found him?’
    â€˜Horse went back to the stable, reins hanging, and the boy thought of going to look see. Told me at once, naturally. Wasted half my morning. Just a stupid banal accident – I knew perfectly well what had to be done and that there was no point in any of it. Phoned young whatsisname – he’s an efficient young chap, quite bright, perfectly polite – and he lost his head hawing about, so I said we’d get the gendarmerie to look at things, just to get the record straight, what? I took a dim view at first, but Marion pointed out sensibly that he was worried about takingresponsibility all alone. They came, but they saw no point in it either. Photographed footprints and so on, said it seemed likely what happened was what had been obvious from the word go, and buggered off again.’
    â€˜Was there anything wrong with the horse?’
    â€˜Not a thing. But a horse can stumble, or limp momentarily, without there being anything to show – they are very sensitive. That could deceive a beginner. Horse was right as rain.’
    â€˜And the saddle – it hadn’t slipped or anything?’
    â€˜No no – harness was all properly fitted – he’d been taught that, at least. He’d got off, not fallen. Young Maartens suggested he’d been dragged, but that’s impossible with modern saddlery.’
    Van der Valk was amused. The whole thing had plainly happened with no more reason than to waste Francis La Touche’s morning!
    â€˜I’m very sorry, naturally. We close the manège for the day, and go to the funeral and all, and of course I’m sorry for Marguerite, but she certainly doesn’t miss much! Fellow lived on his reputation; he did nothing she can’t either do or get done as well or better. Admirable business woman – like my dear wife here, ha.’
    The dear wife had not said a word nor taken a drink, but sat effaced, discreetly immobile, smoking a cigarette – American filtertip, king size, noticed Van der Valk automatically. Francis, carried away by his grievance, had forgotten to ‘zézayer’ – the elegant cavalry dropping of the terminal ‘g’.
    â€˜She won’t miss him?’
    Francis realized that he had been indiscreet and embarked on a rather hurried justification.
    â€˜Well, he was very popular, you know, pals with everybody, that wasn’t what I meant – I meant only that my wife, now, is also an excellent business woman, I’m delighted to say, but in the event of my being kicked by a horse – that’ll be the day, ha – she’d have no resource but to sell the stock and an excellent property which is worth a great deal, I’m glad to say. Very technical business, this. But a restaurant – that’s a simpler affair, and Marguerite knows it inside out. The butcher and the pals in the village, who sat there by the hour drinkin’ and gossipin’ – that’s who’ll miss Bernhard most.’
    â€˜There’s nothing to worry about,’ said Van der Valk soothingly. ‘Delightful place you have here – I’ve heard a lot about it from mywife of course. Curiosity, really, that made me snatch at an excuse to come and see for myself.’
    â€˜Come again. Delighted to see you any time. Charmin’ woman, your wife. Ride at all?’
    â€˜No, alas,’ tapping his stick.
    â€˜That? That’s no obstacle – I knew a French colonel – left leg tin