Chapter 2

"A stolen horse?" I asked as Sherlock continued to pace around the room.

"Not just an ordinary horse!" He replied with a hint of excitement, "one of the most famous and valuable horses in the country!"

I stared at him blankly,"how could someone have stolen a horse without any one noticing? I assume a horse of that value would have had some sort of security."

"It's best not to speculate, John." Said Sherlock as walked over a took the newspaper from my hands, "forming theories without data is a dangerous business. I cannot fully begin the formulate a case until I speak with the people involved with the scandal." He turned to look at Mrs. Hudson, "how soon can your niece be here?"

"She called me about an hour ago saying she was leaving Berkshire, so I imagine she'll be here soon." She replied, "I'll let you know when she arrives."

"Good. Good" Said Sherlock as Mrs. Hudson left to room.

"So," I asked once Mrs. Hudson had left, "I don't mean to insult your vast knowledge of the world, but what you do know about horse racing? Or horses for that matter? Or…anything revolving sports…"

"Oh John." He replied with an exasperated tone, "the horse doesn't come into it. The horse didn't just run away. It was stolen. People steal things and I have a very comprehensive understanding of people, but again John…don't speculate. We can discuss this more when we meet with Mrs. Hudson's niece." He glanced at his watch, "which hopefully will be very soon."

Not even had hour had passed before we heard voices coming up the stairs. Sherlock was dressed and in a visibly better mood than he was a breakfast earlier in the day. The prospect of an interesting case had raised his spirits. "You boys ready?" asked Mrs. Hudson as she and a young woman entered the room.

Sherlock walked across the room and shook her hand, "I'm Sherlock Holmes and this is my friend John Watson."

The young lady smiled as she shook his hand, "I'm Melanie Harvey."

Sherlock gestured for her to take a seat and we both got a good look at her. She was in her late twenty's and dressed casually. She wore dark blue jeans, a baseball cap that covered her blonde hair and white jacket with the words "Chamberlin Farms" written on the top left hand corner. "So," Sherlock asked as he once again paced around the room, "I understand that there has been a robbery your place of employment."

"Yes," She replied softly, "I assume your read the article in the paper. It's all over the news."

Sherlock nodded, "the article was presented to me, but a first hand account of the events are very useful to me. If you would be so kind, please start from the beginning."

She took a deep breath, "Okay well. Are you familiar with the Chamberlin family or horse racing in general?"

I laughed, "Sherlock doesn't really care for sports; they don't interest him at all. I'd explain everything."

"Okay," She continued as Sherlock shot me an angry look, "Well the Chamberlin family is one of the oldest thoroughbred families in England. Their legacy goes back over 200 years. The owner now is Joyce Chamberlin and I started working for her as an assistant trainer a little over three years ago. The family is known for breeding their horses and keeping the best of the crop to race for themselves. They used to own hundreds of horses, but the business is quite small now. There are only about twenty horses on the farm at the moment; the most prized being Cambrian."

"That was the one that was stolen, yes?" Asked Sherlock.

Melanie nodded, "Cambrian is a four year old dark bay thoroughbred. I've only been working with him for about six months. When I began working for her I had to start out with the lesser horses. We all have to work our way up. When her top trainer resigned earlier in the year I moved up and began working with the Group 1 horses. He's an amazing horse and he's brought great prestige back to the Chamberlin family. Earlier in the summer he won the King George Stakes for the second year in a row." She stared at Sherlock who stared intently back at her, "King George Stakes? You know, the most prestigious race in all of Britain?"

"Never heard of it." Replied Sherlock

"Well, it's run in July at Ascot Racecourse in Berkshire, that's where we are based out of."

Sherlock nodded, "and I assume there is a very large purse for winning this race?"

"Yes!" She replied happily, "it's over five hundred thousand pounds for the winner."

"Hm." Mused Sherlock thoughtfully, "so if the horse has won it twice then he's worth over a million dollars."

She nodded, "Yeah, well he's won more than just those two races. He's worth more than a million. He's the most if not the most valuable horse in the country at the moment. That's why we think it's very suspicious that he has gone missing, but we can't understand what the motive would be."

"To sell him, perhaps?" I asked.

She shook her head, "it's not that easy. You can't just go and sell a horse like that. He's famous. Everyone in the sport knows who he is and he's registered. You need his papers, which we still have. You can't breed him without his papers or listing his name. If you did the association would find immediately and you'd be in heaps of trouble. You certainly can't race him without documenting who he is, so what's the point in stealing a horse you can't do anything with?"