Black Gold

Carlton pushed his way through the crowds, River trotting after him as quickly as she could in his wake. Despite the freezing temperatures and heavy snow, it hasn't stopped thousands of people turning up for the most famous horse racing event in the world -- the International Gold Cup.

"This is appalling," Carlton muttered under his breath, trying to squint through the blizzard. "How do they expect me to solve any crimes with this many people and this much snow, let alone prevent any?"

River, used to his grumbling, ignored him and continued with her task: keeping her eyes peeled for possible criminals. They had received a phone call from the owner of Black Gold, Johan Hauff, as they suspected someone to tamper with today's race. But no-one had expected the snow.

"Ridiculous," began Carlton again. "I can barely make out which stable is which." He grabbed the arm of a passing boy, who was leading a horse through the crowd. "Where's the stable of Black Gold?"

The boy grinned. "This is Black Gold, right here." He patted the neck of the excitable horse. "Can I help you? My name is Kyle Mason, I'm the stable hand."

"Do you look after the horse every day?" asked Carlton.

The boy puffed out his chest importantly. "Yes, sir, I do. The only people who come near him are the jockey, Michael Mann, his owner, Johan Hauff, and me. I'm always here to guard him, and make sure no-one else comes near."

"Have you left him at all today?"

"No, sir, except when I was having lunch. There weren't many people around, so I hoped he'd be safe."

"And is he still on top form?"

"Oh, yes, sir," replied Kyle. "Excellent form. I hope you'll put a little bet on."

River smiled at the boy's excitement. "The snow doesn't bother him, then?"

"Not much. However it will be harder for the jockeys in this weather; they'll barely be able to see the horse they're riding, let alone the fences. We're all hoping it will slow a little before the race begins, or there could be some nasty accidents."

Carlton nodded and let the boy shoo away some people standing too close to the valuable horse, and lead it down to the track. As the boy left he noticed a man standing behind where the horse had been, a grim expression on his face.

"You moving along?" Carlton asked coldly.

The man sneered. "May as well. I'm clearly not going to get what I came for?"

"And what did you come for?" Carlton asked, matching the man's sneer with one of his own.

"I'm waiting for Mr Mann to leave the weighing room. I need a little word with him."

"Mr Mann?" River caught the name. "He's Black Gold's jockey, isn't he?"

The man nodded. "My name's Sam Tyler. I used to be Black Gold's jockey. Til last week."

Carlton frowned. "Last week? Why the quick change?"

Sam Tyler laughed mirthlessly. "Money, of course. I'm the better jockey, I should win today on Black Gold. Except that Mr Hauff couldn't afford to pay me, so he switched to Michael Mann. I offered to stay for less money, but Hauff refused. Today's win should be mine, not that idiot's."

"He hasn't won yet," River pointed out.

"Noticed that myself," Sam Tyler remarked, touched his hat, and left.

Suddenly, there was a loud whinny from behind them. Black Gold had reared up, practically lifting Kyle Mason off his feet. Carlton darted forward and grabbed the horse's reins whilst the stallion bucked and kicked in agitation.


As the horse began to calm down, Kyle got up from the ground, a little shaken, and took the reins back from Carlton. "Thanks," he stuttered, but Carlton did not let go of the reins. A small trickle of blood had matted the horse's mane from a small puncture in his neck.
"Upset by the snow!" someone cried, but the jockey, who was standing by Mr Hauff, a few steps away, frowned. "Black Gold never got upset by snow," he said slowly.

What happened?


Answer (highlight to read): Black Gold's owner, Mr Hauff, was fast approaching bankruptcy. To raise his capital, he placed a large bet against his own horse and then sabotaged it with a small needle.