racing.”
“Will you be there?” I asked.
“I will to start with, but I’ll have to leave early to get back to Oxford for a club dinner.”
“Can I get back to you?” I said. “I need to talk to my fiancee.”
“Bring her with you,” he said immediately. “It’s a buffet supper, not a sit-down, so numbers are not a problem. And I’ll be leaving before the pudding, so there’ll be plenty of that left anyway.” He laughed.
I couldn’t help but like Ben Roberts.
“OK,” I said. “I’d love to.”
“One or two?” he asked.
“One definitely, two maybe.”
“I’ll tell my Dad. He’ll be pleased,” he said. “We’ll be there by five o’clock. See you then.”
We hung up.
I wondered if it was sensible to go back to Cheltenham. It was DCI Flight’s home patch, and the racetrack would be full of Gloucestershire policemen. But why should I worry? After all, I hadn’t done anything wrong.
Next I called Chief Inspector Tomlinson.
“Where are you?” the chief inspector asked. “There’s lots of noise on the line.”
“I’m on the motorway,” I said. “And this car isn’t very well sound-insulated.”
“Which motorway?” he asked.
“Does it matter?” I said evasively.
“Are you using a hands-free system?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
“OK,” he said. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“So what are you going to do about it, arrest me for using a mobile phone whilst driving?”
“No,” he said. “I’ll just try and keep the call short. What do you want?”
“I want a meeting with you and Superintendent Yering,” I said. “And DCI Flight, I suppose, if he wants to be there. As long as he doesn’t arrest me.”
“Where do you want this meeting?”
“That’s up to you,” I said. “But arrange it for Thursday, if you can.”
“What’s the meeting for?” he asked.
“So I can tell you why I think Herb Kovak was killed and why our dead gunman was also trying to kill me.”
“What’s wrong with today?” he said. “Or tomorrow?”
“There’s someone else I want to talk to first.”
“Who?” he said.
“Just someone.”
“I told you to leave the investigating to us,” said the chief inspector sternly.
“I intend to,” I said. “That’s why I want the meeting with you and the superintendent.”
But I also wanted to learn more about the Bulgarian investment before it.
“OK,” he said. “I’ll fix it. How do I contact you?”
“Leave a message on this number or I’ll call you again tomorrow.”
I disconnected.
I left the motorway at the Reading junction, went around the interchange and joined the westbound carriageway to go back towards Newbury.
I called the office, and Mrs. McDowd answered.
“Hello, Mrs. McDowd,” I said. “Mr. Nicholas here. Can I speak to Mr. Patrick, please?”
“You’re a very naughty boy,” she said in her best headmistressy voice. “You mustn’t upset Mr. Gregory so. His heart can’t take it.”
I didn’t reply. As far as I was concerned, the sooner his heart gave out the better.
I waited as she put me through.
“Hello, Nicholas,” said Patrick. “Where are you?”
Why, I wondered, was everyone so obsessed with my whereabouts?
“In Reading,” I said. “Have you spoken to Jessica?”
“Not yet. I’ve been reviewing the file myself this morning. I intend to discuss the matter with Gregory this afternoon.”
“Mind your back,” I said.
“Be serious,” Patrick said.
“I promise you, I am being serious, very serious,” I replied. “If I were you, I’d speak to Jessica first, and then both of you talk to Gregory.”
“I’ll see,” Patrick said.
Patrick and Gregory had been partners for a very long time, and I reckoned that Patrick might need quite a lot of convincing that his friend was up to no good. I suppose I couldn’t really blame him for checking things himself before he brought in the Compliance Officer.
“You might need someone who can read Bulgarian,” I said.
“Leave it to me,” Patrick replied decisively.
“OK,” I said. “I will. But I’ll call you again tomorrow to see how you’re getting on.”
I hung up and glanced in the rearview mirror. There were no signs of any flashing blue lights nor of any eager unmarked police cars. I drove on sedately back to Lambourn.
I want to go home,” my mother said, meeting me in Jan’s kitchen as I walked in from the car.
“And you will,” I said. “Just as soon as I’m sure it’s safe.”
“But I want to go home now.”
“Soon,” I said.
“No!” she stated in determined fashion, putting her hands on her hips. “Now.”
“Why?” I asked.
“We’ve been here long enough,” she said. “And I’m worried about my cat.”
“I didn’t think it was
“He’s not, but I’m worried about him nonetheless. And I’ve got a WI meeting tomorrow night and I don’t want to miss it.”
Don’t mess with the Women’s Institute. Tony Blair, for one, had discovered that.
“All right,” I said. “I promise I’ll take you home tomorrow.”
She wasn’t very happy, but, short of ordering herself a taxi, there wasn’t much she could do. Tomorrow would have to do. I’d take her before I went on to the races.
And there was more unrest in the ranks from Claudia.
“I want to go home,” she said when I went up to our bedroom. She was standing by the bed, packing her things in her suitcase.
“Have you been talking to my mother?” I asked.
“Maybe,” she said.
I thought there was no “maybe” about it.
“Darling,” I said, “I’ve arranged a meeting with the police on Thursday to sort everything out. We can go home after it.”
“Why can’t you have this meeting tonight or tomorrow?”
“Because I have to talk to someone first, and I’m seeing them at Cheltenham Races tomorrow evening.”
She stopped packing and sat down on the bed.
“I don’t understand it. If the man who was trying to kill you was himself killed, then why are we still hiding?”
“There may be others,” I said. “And I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks. You’re far too precious to me.”
I sat down on the bed next to her and gave her a hug.
“But I’m bored here,” she said. “And I’ve run out of clean knickers.”
