‘Cheerful,’ he said resignedly. He led Revelation away along the road to stow him in the horse box, and was gone a long time.
When he came back he sat down beside me and said, ‘I went all round the stables. No one stopped me or asked what I was doing. Don’t they have
The sun was lower in the sky and the November afternoon grew colder. We shivered a little and huddled inside our jerseys.
Chico said, ‘You guessed about the mirror before you set off round the course.’
‘It was a possibility, that’s all.’
‘You could have ridden along the boundary fence, looking into the gardens like we did afterwards, instead of haring off over all those jumps.’
I grinned faintly. ‘Yes. As I told you, I was giving in to temptation.’
‘Screwy. You must have known you’d fall.’
‘Of course I didn’t. The mirror mightn’t have worked very effectively. Anyway, it’s better to test a theory in a practical way. And I just wanted to ride round there. I had a good excuse if I were hauled up for it. So I went. And it was grand. So shut up.’
He laughed. ‘All right.’ Restlessly he stood up again and said he would make another tour. While he was gone I watched the racecourse with and without the binoculars, but not a thing moved on it.
He came back quietly and dropped down beside me.
‘As before,’ he said.
‘Nothing here, either.’
He looked at me sideways. ‘Do you feel as bad as you look?’
‘I shouldn’t be surprised,’ I said. ‘Do you?’
He tenderly touched the area round his cut eyebrow. ‘Worse. Much worse. Soggy bad luck, him slugging away at your belly like that.’
‘He did it on purpose,’ I said idly; ‘and it was very informative.’
‘Huh?’
‘It showed he knew who I was. He wouldn’t have needed to have attacked us like that if we’d just been people come over from the racecourse to see if we could shift the mirror. But when he spoke to me he recognised me, and he knew I wouldn’t be put off by any poster eyewash. And his sort don’t mildly back down and retreat without paying you off for getting in their way. He just hit where he knew it would have most effect. I actually saw him think it.’
‘But how did he know?’
‘It was he who sent Andrews to the office,’ I said. ‘He was the man Mervyn Brinton described; big, going a bit bald, freckles on the backs of his hands, cockney accent. He was strong-arming Brinton, and he sent Andrews to get the letter that was supposed to be in the office. Well… Andrews knew me, and I knew him. He must have gone back and told our big friend Fred that he had shot me in the stomach. My death wasn’t reported in the papers, so Fred knew I was still alive and would put the finger on Andrews at once. Andrews wasn’t exactly a good risk to Fred, just a silly spiv with no sense, so Fred, I guess, marched him straight off to Epping Forest and left him for the birds. Who did a fair job, I’ll give them that.’
‘Do you think,’ said Chico slowly, ‘that the gun Fred had today… is that why you wanted the bullet?’
I nodded. ‘That’s right. I tried for the gun too, but no dice. If I’m going on with this sort of work, pal, you’ll have to teach me a spot of judo.’
He looked down doubtfully. ‘With that hand?’
‘Invent a new sport,’ I said. ‘One-armed combat.’
‘I’ll take you to the club,’ he said smiling. ‘There’s an old Jap there who’ll find a way if anyone can.’
‘Good.’
Up at the far end of the racecourse a horse box turned in off the main road and trundled along towards the stables. The first of the next day’s runners had apparently arrived.
Chico went to have a look.
I sat on in fading daylight, watching nothing happen, hugging myself against the cold and the re-awakened grinding ache in my gut, and thinking evil thoughts about Fred. Not Leo. Fred.
There were four of them, I thought. Kraye, Bolt, Fred and Leo.
I had met Kraye: he knew me only as Sid, a despised hanger-on in the home of a retired admiral he had met at his club and had spent a week-end with.
I had met Bolt: he knew me as John Halley, a shop assistant wanting to invest a gift from an aunt.
I had met Fred: he knew my whole name, and that I worked for the agency, and that I had turned up at Seabury.
I did not know if I had met Leo. But Leo might know
It would be all right, I thought, as long as they did not connect all the Halleys and Sids too soon. But there was my wretched hand, which Kraye had pulled out of my pocket, which Fred could have seen in the garden, and which Leo, whoever he was, might have noticed almost anywhere in the last six days, thanks to my promise to Zanna Martin. Zanna Martin, who worked for Bolt. A proper merry-go-round, I thought wryly.
Chico materialised out of the dusk. ‘It was Ping Pong, running in the first tomorrow. All above board,’ he said. ‘And nothing doing anywhere, stands or course. We might as well go.’
It was well after five. I agreed, and got up stiffly.
‘That Fred,’ said Chico, casually giving me a hand, ‘I’ve been thinking. I’ve seen him before, I’m certain. At race meetings. He’s not a regular. Doesn’t work for a bookie, or anything like that. But he’s about. Cheap rings, mostly.’
‘Let’s hope he doesn’t burrow,’ I said.
‘I don’t see why he should,’ he said seriously. ‘He can’t possibly think you’d connect him with Andrews or with Kraye. All you caught him doing was fixing a poster in a tree. If I were him, I’d be sleeping easy.’
‘I called him Fred,’ I said.
‘Oh,’ said Chico glumly. ‘So you did.’
We reached the road and started along it towards the horse box.
‘Fred must be the one who does all the jobs,’ said Chico. ‘Digs the false drains, sets fire to stables, and drives tractors to pull over tankers. He’s big enough for anything.’
‘He didn’t wave the flags. He was up the tree at the time.’
‘Um. Yes. Who did?’
‘Not Bolt,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t fat enough for Boit, even in a duffle coat. Possibly Kraye. More likely Leo, whoever he is.’
‘One of the workmen, or the foreman. Yes. Well, that makes two of them for overturning tankers and so on.’
‘It would be easier for two,’ I agreed.
Chico drove the horse box back to Mark’s, and then, to his obvious delight, my Merc back to London.
FOURTEEN
Chief-Inspector Cornish was pleased but trying to hide it.
‘I suppose you can chalk it up to your agency,’ he said, as if it were debatable.
‘He walked slap into us, to be fair.’
‘And slap out again,’ he said dryly.
I grimaced. ‘You haven’t met him.’
‘You want to leave that sort to us,’ he said automatically.
‘Where were you, then?’
