“We’ll make a start this end,” Gideon promised, looking a question at Hobbs, who nodded. So he had all the names down: would start the new line of inquiry at once. “Why don’t you stay over there for a day or two, Lem? You could check the American end more closely — find out more about the Colonel and —”
“Must I, George?” Lemaitre sounded like a rebellious little boy.
“Don’t you want to?” .
“I don’t want to lose a minute getting the bracelets on the swine who killed Charlie,” Lemaitre said fervently. “If we could break Jackie Spratt’s at the same time, I’d die happy!”
“All right,” Gideon decided quickly. “See you tomorrow.”
He put down the receiver on Lemaitre’s exultations, as certain as anyone could be that Hobbs was thinking along almost the same lines as himself. There wasn’t another man on the Force of Lemaitre’s age and position who would have rejected an offer to stay on in New York, all expenses paid. Hobbs put down the extension, tore a sheet off the note-pad, and crossed to Gideon.
“There’s only one Lem,” he remarked.
“Yes. And as far as I can see, only one Alec Hobbs,” Gideon retorted. “I’d like to talk about this business — Penelope — again when I’ve digested it.”
“Of course. Whenever you wish.”
“Right.” Gideon braced himself: “Now: I’ve been thinking about these two American horse-trainers. They won’t recognise any of our chaps, so it doesn’t matter who we put on to them. We’d better have someone who really knows the racing game, and he’ll have to work pretty fast.”
“And with Lemaitre,” Hobbs pointed out.
“And with Lemaitre. On this job, a man of equal rank, I think.” As Gideon pondered, frowning, a groove appeared between his eyes — in that moment he was surprisingly like John Spratt. “Turpin,” he decided. “Jack Turpin. He’s about Lem’s weight and he won’t tread on his toes. Where is he, do you know?”
“Down at Newmarket. There was that doping job, at Brighton, and the doped horses were trained at Newmarket.”
“Oh, yes. Well, talk to him, find out how far he’s got, and have him here this afternoon if it’s practicable. If I’m not here, brief him yourself.” Gideon looked at the note which Hobbs had given him. “Colonel Jason Hood and Mr. Thomas Moffat.” He glanced at his watch. “My God, it’s twenty past two!” He picked up the pipe and put it in his pocket. “I’m going over to AB Division. I’m not easy about the girl.”
“Have a sandwich before you go,” Hobbs urged.
Gideon stared; and laughed. “Kate ask you to make sure I eat enough?” he demanded. “I think I’ll go across to the pub.”
Hobbs said: “Good idea. You could have a glass of beer, too!”
Gideon was half-way down the steps leading to the courtyard before he thought: “But Alec hasn’t had any lunch, either.” He paused, shrugged, and went on: Hobbs wouldn’t starve. Hobbs and Penny — good God! It wasn’t possible, was it? He had some quick mental pictures of Penny, coming in late after her performances. Little devil! he thought, and laughed. Then stopped laughing, and thought of Kate. His stride lengthened as he went on.
Kate, at that moment, was lying full length on the cold, uncomfortable couch of an X-ray unit at the South Western Hospital. A coloured radiographer was talking on the telephone, a red-haried Irish assistant was tucking a little foam rubber pillow under Kate’s head. The strange contraption above her — the square ‘eyes’, the runners, the box like a camera — looked like something from another world. Not since Matthew had been young and complained of violent ‘tummy-ache’, had she seen an X-ray unit. That old picture had shown a safety pin and a nail, in Matthew’s stomach.
What would this show in her chest?
The radiographer put down the receiver, came across, made a few adjustments and then unexpectedly smiled down. She was a big, middle-aged, broad-featured woman who looked, in her ample white smock, even bigger than in fact she was.
“How long have you had this pain, Mrs. Gideon?”
“Not — not very long.”
“Now then, ma’am, does that mean days or weeks or months?”
Kate, feeling utterly helpless, was driven to remember what she simply did not want to admit.
“I suppose I first noticed the actual pain about a month ago.”
‘And what was it before that? A tickle?”
Kate was startled into a laugh. “Well — hardly a pain. A pin-prick, rather.”
“And now it hurts like hell, eh? Now hold your breath for a few seconds. In . . .” The radiographer switched on and there was a whirring sound; then a click. “Now I’ll want you over on your side; your right side. Let me help you.”
In all, she took six plates; and when she had finished, said with half-laughing assurance. “The doctor will soon find out what’s happening to you, Mrs. Gideon. And knowing what the trouble is, is half-way to getting rid of it. You can dress now.”
“When will you have the result?” asked Kate, studiously calm.
“Dr. Phillips will be in to see the plates tomorrow. He’ll get in touch with you as soon as he’s ready.”
“So soon? Oh- thank you.” Kate was vastly relieved. She felt a little lighter-hearted, too, because she had at last been sensible. But she also felt fearful of what she would know, ‘so soon’ ? If it was cancer -
No one would give her a clue, she thought, as she dressed: that was the worst of it. And it was often said that
