Private Dublin

Chapter 31

He bolted, turning back the way he’d come and darting through the doorway, almost knocking over two ladies in elegant dresses. I didn’t hesitate but pushed past the steward, who yelled at me to stop. Ignoring him, I jumped the waist-high gate and picked up speed as I ducked under the paddock’s metal rail and sprinted across the enclosure. The steward yelled at me again, and when I looked right, I saw the horses from the first race being led down from the finish, with a celebratory procession of people surrounding them. They were still some distance away and didn’t impede my progress as I sprinted across the grass and ducked under the railing on the other side.

The other three suited men who’d been with the shooter still surrounded their principal and stood ready, but I wasn’t interested in their man, or not at least at that moment, so I didn’t engage with them as I ran toward the building.

I barged past a couple coming out, ignored yells from the man, and shot along a corridor lined with hospitality suites toward a junction at the end. The startled glances of a group of women told me my target had gone right, and sure enough, when I turned a corner, I saw the shooter up ahead sprinting toward an exit about thirty feet away. He glanced back and the sight of me must have spurred him on, because he picked up his pace. I was equally motivated by the prospect of catching him, and my lungs heaved as my legs fired like pistons and propelled me toward him.

“Stop!” I commanded. “Stop that man!”

A long interior window offered a view of a lavish bar, and I caught bemused looks from the people inside, most of whom were busy enjoying the sponsor’s champagne. A few called out words of encouragement to me and sounded quite drunk already.

The shooter burst through the exit and slammed it shut behind him. I barreled out moments later and felt strong hands on my shoulders. I was pushed forward and lost my balance, hitting the ground hard. I rolled onto my back and saw he’d waited beside the door to surprise me with a sneak attack.

I knew he’d be on me instantly and leaped to my feet to face him. He came at me as I was rising, with a roundhouse kick aimed at my head. I blocked it and stood into him, so my shoulder caught the underside of his knee, sending him toppling backward.

I threw a punch and landed a blow on his cheek. He staggered back, dazed, before turning tail and running away across a paved garden area toward a stable block.

I could see grooms exercising some fine racehorses, and stewards and owners gathered in small groups to observe the spectacle. To the north was a paved yard full of horse boxes and cars.

The shooter sprinted across to the stables, and I realized that our chase was attracting more and more attention. People all around looked our way, surprised and puzzled by the frenetic action taking place in the yard. I heard people burst through the doorway behind us, and when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw the steward from the gate leading a couple of security officers. They were all shouting at me to stop. The steward called out to his colleagues ahead of me.

“Stop him!” he yelled, pointing at me, and more stewards and course personnel moved in my direction.

Ahead of me, the shooter barged through a door leading into the stable block and I followed. I stopped instantly when I realized I had the man cornered in a tack room. We were surrounded by saddles, bridles and other riding gear. I eyed him coldly as I shut the door behind me, and very deliberately slid the bolt closed.

The shooter took off his jacket as I stepped away from the door. There was hammering from the other side of it and a clamor of voices, which I ignored.

I removed my suit jacket and squared up to the man who’d shot Justine, eager to fight.