" If she knew I went out again,' he said, 'I could get youth custody.'

'If she shopped you, you mean?'

He nodded. 'But... sod it... to cut a foot off a horse...' Perhaps the better nature was somewhere there after all. Stealing cars was OK, maiming racehorses wasn't. He wouldn't have blinded those ponies: he wasn't that sort of lout. 'If I fix it with your aunt, will you tell me?' I asked. 'Make her promise not to tell Archie. He's worse.'

'Er,' I said, 'who is Archie?'

'My uncle. Aunt Betty's brother. He's Establishment, man. He's the flogging classes.'

I made no promises. I said, 'Just spill the beans.'

'In three weeks I'll be sixteen.' He looked at me intently for reaction, but all he'd caused in me was puzzlement. I thought the cut-off age for crime to be considered 'juvenile' was two years older. He wouldn't be sent to an adult jail.

Jonathan saw my lack of understanding. He said impatiently, 'You can't be underage for sex if you're a man, only if you're a girl.'

'Are you sure?'

'She says so.'

'Your Aunt Betty?' I felt lost.

'No, stupid. The woman in the village.'

'Oh... ah.'

'Her old man's a long-distance truck driver. He's away for nights on end. He'd kill me. Youth custody would be apple pie,'

'Difficult,' I said.

'She wants it, see? I'd never done it before. I bought her a gin in the pub.' Which, at fifteen, was definitely illegal to start with.

'So... um...,' I said, 'last night you were coming back from the village... When, exactly?'

'It was dark. Just before dawn. There had been more moon light earlier, but I'd left it late. I was running. She-Aunt Betty-she wakes with the cocks. She lets the dogs out before six.'

His agitation, I thought, was producing what sounded like truth. I thought, and asked, 'Did you see any ramblers?'

'No. It was earlier than them.'

I held my breath. I had to ask the next question, and dreaded the answer. "

― Dick Francis , Come to Grief (Sid Halley, #3)