To a jockey, losing his licence is the equivalent of being struck off, or disbarred, or cashiered. When steeplechase rider Kelly Hughes lost his licence, his first feelings were of bewilderment and disbelief, for he was not guilty of the charges. Nor, to the best of his belief, was the trainer he had ridden for, who lost his livelihood as well. When his first stunned state of shock subsided, Kelly began to wonder why he had been framed, and who had done it, and how it had been achieved. Being fit of body and tough of mind, and seething with disgust at the injustice, he did more than wonder. He began to search. The nearer he came to a solution the fiercer grew the retaliation. But Kelly had been left with nothing much to lose — the only serious strategic mistake his enemy had made. Significant in the background of the story is the private trial system common among professional organisations. Without any of the safeguards of the law, a professional trial is perilously vulnerable to malice, misrepresentation, intimidation and prejudice. The administrators of justice depend too much on good faith from everyone. Suppose they don’t get it? Suppose someone realises that the very weaknesses of the system offer a perfect destructive weapon...? In a racing enquiry the judges are also the prosecutors and the jury, the accused is allowed no legal defendant, the sentences are often of no fixed duration, and there is no appeal. Sometimes it matters very much indeed. The new Dick Francis is everything his world-wide readers will confidently expect. Like FORFEIT, NERVE and his other best-sellers, it is a first-rate story of men in the racing game; to some of whom both men and horses are expendable when a stupendous gamble is on