knowing the result. While now…well, very plush all the stuff they got in those betting shops these days. Comfy chairs, get a cup of tea, everything.”
“But over the years, Harold…you know, the years you’ve been betting, do you think you’re up or down?”
“In financial terms?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, down. Definitely down.”
An expression of puzzlement settled on Carole’s face. But rather than actually vocalizing the thought, “Then why on earth do you do it?” she moved the subject on. “So, if you’re in the betting shop every day, Harold, maybe you saw the poor man who was killed?”
“No. Didn’t Jude say? I was ill last week.”
“I know that. I just thought you might have seen him before.”
“No idea. I don’t know what he looks like.”
“Haven’t you seen the pictures on the news?”
He gestured around the room. “Don’t have a telly, do I? There’s one downstairs in what they call one of the ‘communal rooms’. But I’m not going to spend my time sitting with those old biddies. They never put the racing on, anyway. Just watch these endless soaps and chat shows with everyone spilling their guts about everything. No one’s got any shame any more. I don’t need the television.”
“And you don’t get a local paper?”
“No, nothing much happens in Fethering, and what there does I usually hear along the grapevine.”
At that moment Jude reappeared with a steaming cup of tea.
“I was just asking Harold whether he’d seen Tadeusz Jankowski in the betting shop…you know, before last Thursday. But Harold doesn’t know what he looked like. Fortunately, though…” Carole reached triumphantly into her handbag “…I’ve brought along all the cuttings I’ve collected about the murder.”
Harold Peskett was shown a photograph of the dead man and immediately responded, “Oh yes, I seen him all right.”
“In the betting shop?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“While back. Late summer, I think.”
“End of September, early October?”
“Could have been.”
“Did you see him speak to a woman?”
The parchment-like skin wrinkled around the old man’s eyes. “Hard to remember that far back. Maybe he did…”
“The woman we’re talking about,” Jude said gently, “was a regular in the betting shop…”
“Do you mean old Pauline?”
“No. Another one. Apparently used to be a regular and then suddenly stopped coming.”
Again the thin skin was stretched with the strain of recollection. “Doesn’t ring any bells.”
“Younger woman…smartly dressed…”
“Ooh, just a minute. Yes, there was this lady used to come in, now you come to mention it. Yeah, looked like she had a few bob. Nice clothes, like you say.”
“Did you ever talk to her?” asked Carole.
“Well, only to, like, pass the time of day. You know, say ‘bad luck’ when she had a loser, that kind of thing.”
“Did she have a lot of losers?”
He shrugged. “All punters have a lot of losers.”
“Yes, but I mean – did she bet a lot?”
“Mm, think she did. Put something on every race, she would.”
“Big stakes?”
“Dunno. You never really know what other punters are putting on, unless they draw attention to themselves. And she was a quiet one, that woman. That’s why I had trouble remembering her.”
“Do you know her name?”
He shook his head. “Like I say, she was quiet. Almost, like, a bit secretive. And people who come in on their own, well, you never hear their names. Different with those decorators, Wes and Vie, a right double act they are. And Sonny ‘Perfectly’ Frank, everyone knows him. But that woman…haven’t a clue.”
“Did you see her talking to Tadek…to the man in the photograph?” asked Jude.
The wizened old man shook his head. “Don’t recall. She might have done, but, you know, there’s a lot of comings and goings in a betting shop. You don’t notice all of them.”
“Of course not.” Jude looked at Carole, as if to indicate that they weren’t going to get much more information from this source, and said, “Have you got all your bets done, Harold?”
“Been ready for an hour,” the old man replied, producing a pile of closely scribbled betting slips from the table. “Ooh, and could you bring me some more of these, Jude love? I’m running out. I mean, hope I’ll be better tomorrow and be able to go down there under my own steam, but just in case…”
“Yes, of course. I’ll pick them up and drop them in tomorrow morning.”
“That’s very good of you.” He looked at his watch. “The first bet’s on a twelve-thirty race.”
“Don’t worry, we’re on our way.”
“Well, good to see you. And nice to meet you, Carole love. You going down to sort out your day’s investments, are you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You going down the betting shop to have a bit of a punt, are you?”
“Good heavens, no,” said Carole.
Jude smiled. “Don’t bother to get up, Harold.”
But he was on his feet before she had finished the words. “No, no, I may be old and decrepit and full of flu, but I’m still capable of seeing ladies to the door of my own home.”
Harold Peskett moved stiffly across to the door and opened it for them. “And that poor geezer with the funny name got stabbed, did he?”
“So it seems, yes.”
“Rotten luck. He didn’t seem the sort to get on the wrong side of anybody.”
Carole stopped in her tracks. “You speak as if you know him.”
“Well, don’t know, but I chatted to him a bit when he come into the betting shop in the autumn.”
“When he spoke to the mystery woman?” asked Jude.
“Maybe. Come to think of it, yes, I did only see him in bookie’s just the once.”
“And when you spoke to him, what did you talk about?”
“Oh, nothing important. Just like passed the time of day.” He screwed up his face with the effort of squeezing out more detail. “Ooh, and I remember…I did give him some directions.”
“Where to?”
“Well, as I recollect it, that’s why he come in the betting shop, to ask the way. That’s probably why he talked to the woman…you know, the one you were asking about.”
“Where did he want to go to?” Carole insisted.
“He was looking for Clincham College,” replied Harold Peskett.
? Blood at the Bookies ?
Eleven
“I’ve heard of Clincham College, but I don’t know much about it,” said Jude, as they walked briskly along the front towards Fethering High Street. “Presumably it’s in Clincham?”
Carole affirmed that it was. Clincham was a largish coastal town some ten miles west of Fethering. It had a well-heeled retired community, and a matching set of boutiques and knick-knack shops to cater for them. It also
