“Thanks,” I said.

He went off, hurrying to catch up with his boss, leaving me to wonder if my father’s killer knew who I was, and how to find me.

What was all that about?” asked Luca when I went back to our pitch.

“Tuesday,” I said.

“What exactly happened on Tuesday?” he asked.

“I got mugged,” I said, repeating my original story.

“Those two coppers have been here now to see you twice,” he said. “Come on, don’t tell me it was just because someone mugged a bookie. What else?”

“Well,” I said, “you know about the murder in the parking lot?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Of course.” Everyone was still talking about it.

“It seems the man who mugged me might have been the killer.”

“Oh,” he said. “That’s all right, then.” He seemed relieved.

“What do you mean ‘all right’?” I cried, exasperated. “He could have killed me too, you know.”

“Yeah,” he said.“But he didn’t.” He smiled.“Betsy and I reckoned you must be in some sort of trouble with the law.”

“Oh thanks,” I said sardonically. “Such confidence you have in your provider.”

As predicted, the first two races, the Chesham and the Hardwicke Stakes, were each won by the favorite.

“That was fine by us,” said Luca into my ear after the second. “We had that laid at better odds, so, for a change, the favorite’s done us a favor.”

“Well done,” I said back to him. “Now for the fun and games.”

Betting on the Golden Jubilee Stakes was brisk, with queues of eager punters forming in front of me wanting to hand over their money. As Luca had expected, Pulpit Reader was established as the market leader, but at odds of four-to-one or better. The race was wide open, and the market reflected it.

“Fifty on Pulpit,” said the man in front of me.

“Fifty on number five at fours,” I said to Luca, who pushed his keypad. I took the ticket from the printer and handed it to the man.

“What price number sixteen?” asked A.J., the next man in the queue, who was sporting today a rather traditional gray vest under his expansive black jacket.

Our electronic board was not big enough to have all the runners displayed at once.

“Horse sixteen?” I said to Luca.

“Thirty-threes,” he said back.

“Tenner each way,” A.J. said, pushing a twenty-pound note towards me.

The ticket duly appeared from the printer.

And so it went on. Mostly smallish bets of ten or twenty pounds or so. A wager on the Golden Jubilee was more for entertainment than for making serious money.

We were still taking bets as the race started. A young woman in a black-and-white dress with a matching wide-brimmed hat was my last customer, thrusting a ten-pound note my way even as the horses were passing the five-furlong pole. “Ten pounds to win on horse number five, please,” she implored breathlessly from somewhere beneath her headgear. I took her money and issued the ticket.

“No more,” I said, but there were no more. Everyone was watching the race, most of them on one of the big-screen TVs set up opposite the grandstand.

The Golden Jubilee Stakes is the British leg of the Global Sprint Challenge, and, consequently, it attracts horses from overseas. It was an American horse on this occasion that broke away from the pack in the final furlong to win by more than a length. The crowd were unusually hushed. Pulpit Reader, number five, could only finish fourth. The young woman in black and white had enjoyed less than a minute’s run for her money, which would now remain firmly in my pocket.

People gamble for many reasons but it is always, ultimately, the thrill of the win that gives them the “high” they crave. The professional gamblers-those few who can make their living from betting on the horses-would say that it is all about long-term returns, not short-term thrills, but even they would have to admit to having an extra burst of adrenaline running through their veins during a close finish involving one of their selections.

For most, gambling is for recreation rather than remuneration. It adds to their enjoyment of a day at the races. Some of my clients thought they’d had a really good day if they backed a couple of winners, even if their wagers on other losers had cost them more than their winnings. The delight of a win banished the memories of the losses.

Bookmakers, I suppose, would have to be placed in the “professional gambler” bracket. Bookmaking is a business, and solid, regular returns, rather than sharp peaks and troughs, are the aim. Nevertheless, it still gave me a thrill to be able to keep the young woman’s ten-pound note, especially when she had been so eager to place the bet even after the horses had started running. I suppose, to be honest, no one becomes a bookmaker unless they have at least a touch of Schadenfreude in them. After all, unlike for stockbrokers or investment-portfolio managers, it was my clients’ misfortune that made me richer.

Next up was the thirty-runner Wokingham Stakes, and that was even more of a lottery than the Golden Jubilee.

The race was always like a cavalry charge, flat out for three-quarters of a mile, from the starting stalls along the straight to the winning post. It is also a handicap, which means that the better-rated horses have to carry the most weight as determined by the handicapper, whose aim and dream it is that all the runners will finish in one huge dead heat. Wins by favorites have been rare, and rank outsiders have often claimed the prize.

Again, betting was brisk, with money spread fairly evenly on both the short-priced favorites and on the outsiders alike. Historically, there were very few pointers that helped the discerning punter in this race. Often in sprints, one side of the track seems to produce more winners than the other, and the number of the starting stall a horse was drawn in could be a good indicator of its chances. However, over the years, the draw in the sprint races at Ascot typically hadn’t proved to be much of a factor with winners of the Wokingham Stakes coming from all across the track.

Nearly every punter has some system or another that he swears by, even if it’s closing his eyes and sticking a pin into the list of runners on the race card. Some will never back mares or fillies in races with colts on all-weather surfaces, while others avoid short-priced favorites in handicaps. Some follow a particular jockey or a trainer with a proven record, while others will trust their cash only on horses that have run and placed within the last seven days.

In general, those punters who do the best are the ones who are disciplined and who study the form. Disciplined insofar as they record everything, don’t go mad on hunches and don’t panic when they have a losing streak, as they surely will.

The most successful are those who know almost every horse in training. And they study the races every day. They learn, over time, which horses run consistently to form and which do not. They discover which horses prefer right-handed tracks and which do better left-handed, which jumpers like long run-ins and which short, and whether they are more likely to win with uphill finishes or flat ones. They know if a horse runs above or below par on firm or soft ground, and also what weight suits a particular horse and whether to keep away from it in handicaps when it’s rated too highly. They know where each horse is trained, if it runs badly after long journeys in a horsevan and even if a particular horse tends to do better than its rivals in sunshine or the rain.

Too much information, some might say, but the discerning punter soon learns which pieces of the jigsaw are the crucial ones. Horse racing is not a science, and there will always be surprises, but, over time, just like human athletes, good horses run well and bad horses don’t.

Making a profit from gambling on horses involves identifying those occasions when the offered odds for a horse to win are better than the true probability of that outcome. So if the knowledgeable punter calculates that the chances of a horse winning a particular race are, say, one in two, and the odds offered by a bookmaker are better than evens, that is the time to bet.