'That's him. He really is called Jones. Starbright Jones.'
'Starbright? You're joking?'
'You think that's funny, you'd better keep it to yourself,' she said. 'He's Welsh and doesn't care to be laughed at.'
'Sorry,' said Joe, who knew all about racial sensibilities. 'So if you've got Mr. Jones, what are you doing here?'
'Trying to tell you what I'm doing here,' she said with an irritation which didn't make her any the less attractive. 'Starbright's fine for fighting off trouble if and when it happens. What I really want is someone who'll take care of the ifs and the whens. Someone who'll stop it happening.'
She paused. Joe nodded encouragingly though he didn't much care if she went on talking or not. Miss Poetry in Motion the papers called her, but even in repose a man could spend his time less poetically than just staring at her. From her earliest appearances on the track she'd been the pride of Luton, a pride not din ted when last autumn, after equalling the British 800 metres record, instead of starting an art foundation course at South Beds Institute, she had accepted a sports scholarship in the Fine Arts Faculty of Vane University, Virginia. Word from over the water was that her American coach wanted her to move up to the mile and 1500 metres, and was forecasting she would be rewriting the record books in the next couple of seasons. Locals would have the chance to make their own assessment on New Year's Day at the grand opening of the new Luton Pleasure Dome. With its art gallery, theatre, olympic-size swimming pool, go-kart track, climbing wall, cinema, skating rink and sports hall, the Plezz, as it was known, had carved a huge chunk out of both the green belt and the council's budget. But with the town's own golden girl not only performing the official opening, but also running in an invitation 1000 metres on the indoor track it would take a very bold environmental or economic protester to attempt disruption.
Joe realized the girl hadn't just paused, she was waiting for him to ask an intelligent PI-type question.
He said, 'Miss Oto ...'
'Call me Zak,' she said. 'And I'll call you Joe. OK?'
Zak. Funny name, but he didn't need to ask where it came from. The papers had told him her real name was Joan, but when she started running almost as soon as she started walking, her athletics-mad father had started referring to her proudly as 'my Zatopek' which her childish tongue had rendered as Zak.
'OK. Zak, this being threatened you mentioned, is this just a general feeling you have or something specific?'
She said. 'You worried I may just be another neurotic woman, Joe?'
'Just encouraging you to tell me what you're doing here, Zak,' he said.
'I'm trying. OK, you know I'm running at the Plezz New Year's Day?'
'Does Rudolf know it's Christmas?' said Joe.
She didn't smile but went on, 'Boxing Day, I got a call. It was sort of a husky voice, maybe a woman trying to sound like a man, or could've been a man trying to sound like a woman
'What did it say?' urged Joe.
'It said, wasn't Christmas a wonderful time with everyone trying to help everybody else out, and this was why she was ringing let's call it her, OK? because some friends of hers wanted to do me a great big favour, and they'd expect nothing in return except a very little favour from me. Well, by now I was beginning to think I'd got myself a weirdo. They come crawling out once your name gets in the papers, you know.'
'So why'd you keep on talking?' asked Joe.
'I got curious, I guess. Besides she didn't sound threatening. Just the opposite, nice and concerned. She said she'd heard about the Nymphette deal you know about that?'
'I saw something in the papers,' said Joe. 'Tell me.'
'It's just something my agent's setting up. Nymphette do perfume and cosmetics, but now they're branching out into a range of casual and sportswear and they want me to be front girl for them. Wear the scent and model the clothes.'
'I look forward to the commercial,' said Joe gallantly. 'So what did your caller have to say about this?'
'Just that she hoped nothing would happen to stop me clinching the deal. Like I say, she sounded really nice. Even when she told me the little favour her friends wanted, it came over so reasonable sounding, I had to ask her to say it twice.'
'So what was it?' asked Joe.
'She said her friends would be very grateful if I didn't win the race on New Year's Day.'
'Shoot,' said Joe. 'Some little favour! So what was the big favour she was going to do in return?'
'She said that her friends would let me have the rest of my career and my family the rest of their lives,' said Zak Oto.
Joe shook his head sadly. It would have been nice to work for and with Zak, but he knew a no-no when he saw one.
He said, 'Listen, I'm sorry, but this is one for the cops. It's probably nothing, just some nutter, but go to the police anyway, just to be safe. Get them poking around and if there is anything serious behind all this, the people concerned will soon get the message the Law's after them
'She said not to tell anybody.'
'She would, wouldn't she? But you're telling me, so that shows you've got enough sense not to be intimidated. Naturally I'm flattered I'm the first but all the same
'You're not the first,' she said. 'I told Jim Hardiman. Used to be my coach. Now he's the sports director at the Plezz.'
