“True,” Barnaby conceded. “So how is the Breeding Register valuable? Ransom?”

Dillon raised his brows. “I hadn’t thought of that, but such a tack would be dangerous. Loss of the Breeding Register would stop all racing, so using it in such a way, essentially holding the entire racing fraternity to ransom, would very likely prove an unhealthy experiment. If the Breeding Register disappeared, I would expect to see it magically reappear within three days.” He glanced at Barnaby. “This industry isn’t short of those prepared to take the law into their own hands, especially over a matter like that.”

Barnaby frowned. “But I thought you said it was the Breeding Register our would-be thief was after?”

“Not the register itself-the set of books-but the information it contains. That’s where the gold lies.”

“How so?”

“That,” Dillon admitted, “is something I’m not precisely sure of-it’s a function of what the information is to be used for. However, in light of our earlier rumors, one possible use leaps to mind.”

He met Barnaby’s blue eyes. “Horse substitution. It used to be prevalent decades ago, before they implemented the present system. One horse would gain a reputation for winning, then, in one race, the owners would substitute another horse, passing it off as the previous winner, and the punters would lose. The owners would be in league with certain bookmakers, and would pocket a nice cut from the lost bets, as well as pocketing even more from bets they or their friends laid against their ‘champion’ winning.”

“Aha!” Barnaby’s eyes narrowed. “Unexpected losses-as have been rumored to have occurred over the spring season.”

“Just so. And that’s where the Breeding Register comes in.