had gone to have a shower after training. I saw Mary go into the gents' locker room, looking like she didn't want to be seen. I went to the door and listened. I heard her saying stuff like, 'It's all fixed, no problem, you'd have been proud of me, I'm playing it really cool.' And a man's voice saying, 'That's great, let's go for it,' something like that, it was all pretty faint.'
'Is that all you heard? Nothing more?' persisted Joe.
'No. Then I heard ...'
Starbright hesitated. His face changed colour slightly and for a second Joe thought he must have got a bourbon stuck in his throat.
Then the incredible thought occurred to him that this slab of Cambrian rock was actually blushing! It was like dawn on a slag heap.
'Yes?' he prompted.
'Noises like they were ... doing it ... you know
'Humping, you mean?'
'Yes. That. In the gents' changing room!'
It was clearly the location as well as the activity which offended him. Joe could guess why. He'd spent most of his schooldays bunking off from games, not because he didn't like sport (he had a season ticket for Luton Town and he'd been the craftiest leg spinner the Robco Engineering works cricket team had ever seen), but because the macho atmosphere of the locker room provided both opportunity and encouragement for the likes of Hooter to pursue their sadistic pleasures. It was a place to boast about sexual exploits in, but a real live woman would be as out of place there as Ian Paisley at High Mass.
'So who was the guy?' demanded Joe. 'Hardiman or Endor?'
'Neither,' said Starbright. 'It was that American. Schoen-feld. Zak's coach.'
'Abe Schoenfeld?' said Joe incredulously. 'But that's ... I mean, Mary doesn't ... didn't know him.'
'She knows him now,' said Starbright. 'But you're right, she's still going around acting like she's only just met him and doesn't much like him either.'
'So you thought, there's something going on here, and when Zak called me in, you got to wondering if I was part of the problem rather than the solution? So who else have you got in the frame, Starbright?'
'Don't know. Wouldn't surprise me if they were all in it,' said the Welshman darkly.
'You mean, like a conspiracy? To do what?'
'To rip Zak off, I'd've thought that was obvious!'
'Yes, but they're not ripping her off, are they? I mean, they, whoever they are, aren't after Zak's money direct, they just want to use her to make a bunch of cash for themselves.'
'Same thing,' said Starbright obstinately.
But it wasn't, thought Joe. Zak was already a big earner, was going to be even bigger. Anyone who got themselves an inside track on her appearance and promotions money would be able to fill their boots. Whereas the betting coup was a one-off.
This needed the application of a seriously incisive detective mind backed up by all the powers of modern technology.
But failing that, it was left firmly in the lap of a small, balding, overweight PI with a stitched-up head and a shoulder which felt like he'd be bowling underarm all next season.
Starbright said, 'I gotta go. You take care of yourself.'
'Couple of aspirin and a can of Guinness will put me right,' said Joe, touching his stitched-up wound with modest bravery.
'Don't mean that scratch,' said Starbright with the scorn of one to whom assault with anything less than an Exocet was probably like being bitten by midges. 'I mean, lock your door and don't open it till you know for sure who's outside. Remember what I said, that guy was trying to kill you.'
It occurred to Joe that though he'd heard the full range of vigilante descriptions, he hadn't heard the Welshman's.
'You got closest,' he said. 'What did he look like?'
Starbright screwed up his eyes in the effort of memory.
After a full minute he said, 'Beefy sort of guy. Face wrapped up. Had a hat on.'
'Beefy? Like what? Schwarzenegger?'
'No. More like that geezer at the Plezz. Hardiman. Well built.'
'Hooter? Do you mean there was something positive? Or just general build?'
The long, thinking pause again.
'No. Could've been any of that lot down there. Endor. Or Schoenfeld. Or Hardiman.'
'But what makes you think it was something to do with the Plezz?' demanded Joe anxiously.
'Don't think that,' said Starbright. 'Lots of reasons why you might piss somebody enough to give you a kicking, but an offing is usually down to someone wanting to get rich or to stay safe. You don't look to me like the type who could know enough to put somebody away for a long time without telling the fuzz. So most likely it's down to money. Which is what this business with Zak is probably all about. So, watch your back. Some nasty people out there.'
