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Authors: Lyndon Stacey

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BOOK: Time to Pay
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‘Not Barrington-Whatsisname, your landlord?'

‘No. Not Giles. Or Pippa. Look, I'm not sure this is going to work.'

‘Sorry, but you can't stop me thinking. It's my job, after all. Thanks.' This last was to Eve, who had handed him a mug of coffee.

‘I made it strong, as you asked, but are you sure it's all right? It looks revolting!'

‘It's fine, I'm a caffeine junkie,' Logan told her, with a flash of his appealing boyish grin. ‘If you filtered all the caffeine out of my bloodstream, I'd probably keel over and sleep for about a year!'

Eve laughed, handed Gideon his third mug of coffee and sat down.

‘You're not joking. I think that's all that's keeping Gideon awake, too. He was asleep on my doorstep when I found him.'

‘Some solvents have that effect,' Logan said, nodding. ‘It's not unlike getting drunk, I'm told, complete with the hangover, although far more
dangerous, of course. You can quite easily wake up dead.' He took a mouthful of coffee. ‘So has this got something to do with Garth Stephenson?'

‘What?' Gideon was startled. ‘Oh, of course, the other night.'

‘Garth Stephenson; aged thirty-four; teaches PE and history at Montague Park School, Charlton Montague. Born in Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire. Unmarried; no kids; former competitive swimmer who represented England several times in the Nineties; how am I doing?'

‘Better than me. I didn't know about Aylesbury or the swimming,' Gideon said. ‘I might have known you'd follow it up.'

Logan shrugged. ‘It's what I do. Do you think he might have had something to do with what happened to you? What did you want him for, the other night?'

Having promised Logan information, Gideon now found himself in a quandary, unable to think of anything he could say that wouldn't lead the policeman to make a connection with Damien Daniels and there, by progression, to the murder inquiry. He knew that if that happened Logan would have no choice but to immediately turn the whole thing over to DI Rockley.

‘I found a list of initials and phone numbers – at least, that's what it turned out to be, it had been disguised – and I've been trying to find out what the connection is between them. Garth Stephenson was one of them.' Even as he said it, Gideon knew Logan wasn't going to settle for such a vague explanation, and wished he hadn't let Eve talk him into phoning the man.

‘You found it? Where?'

Gideon knew if he mentioned the horse, Logan would soon unearth details of its owner.

‘Well it was given to me, amongst some other bits and pieces of paperwork.'

‘By whom?'

‘I'd rather not say, just at the moment.'

‘So why didn't you ask this mystery person about it?'

‘I did. They didn't seem interested, and it turned out it wasn't theirs.'

‘Most people would have left it at that . . .'

‘I thought I recognised one of the phone numbers, and I was curious.'

‘So you started asking questions? You must have had some idea what connected the names on the list.'

‘I thought I had, but I turned out to be wrong,' Gideon said.

‘So what was it?' From the tone of his voice, Logan's patience was wearing understandably thin.

Gideon hesitated. ‘I can't tell you, right now. I need to speak to someone first.'

‘Oh, come on, Gideon! You haven't told me a bloody thing! You say you've got no idea what it's all about, but you must know enough to worry someone. You don't get done over like you were for nothing, and
I
didn't come all this way to listen to a load of meaningless bullshit! Tell me something. What did you speak to Stephenson about?'

‘I asked him about some of the other names on the list.'

‘And?'

‘And I think he knew what it was all about, but he wasn't telling. I got the impression that whatever it was happened a long time ago. He didn't want to tell me because it wasn't just him involved, but he didn't show any aggression towards me. I'd be very surprised if today was anything to do with him.'

‘OK, so who else have you talked to?'

‘Someone called Sam Bentley. He owns a health club called Bentley's of Bath. He wasn't nearly as laid-back. He actually tried to buy me off until he realised I didn't have the first idea what was going on.'

‘It's not such ancient history, then,' Logan observed, writing the name in his pocketbook. ‘What was it you said that got him so worried – or is that something else you can't tell me?'

‘I asked him about the other names on the list, too.'

‘But he didn't tell you anything?'

‘I think he knew them.'

‘Did you tell him who wrote the list?'

‘Yes, I did.'

‘And?'

‘He said he didn't know the person.' Gideon was uncomfortably certain that if ever the time
was
right to divulge the identity of the list's author, Logan was going to be a long way short of happy with him.

‘So who else was on this list?'

‘Robin Tate. I'm told he's very well off, works in London and is married to Vanessa. Apparently they live at Wimborne St Giles. I haven't spoken to him yet.'

‘But one of the others might have,' Logan pointed out, writing the names down. ‘And . . .?'

‘Julian Norris. But he died last year in a car crash and his name was crossed out.'

‘So the list is at least a year or more old.'

‘Looks like it.'

‘How many names in total?'

‘Six,' Gideon said slowly.

‘And you've given me four.'

‘Mm.'

Logan tapped his pen on his teeth.

‘OK, was there anything else on the paper?'

If he told Logan the truth, would he make the connection with racing and from there to Damien Daniels? Gideon had a feeling he might.

‘Just some doodles,' he said. ‘The sort of thing you do when you're on the phone.'

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Eve glance sharply at him, but ignored her. Although he wasn't happy deceiving Logan, he told himself it was only temporarily. It was becoming fairly obvious that, sooner or later, he'd have to hand the whole business over to the police.

Logan watched him thoughtfully.

‘You know I can't help you unless you tell me the whole story . . .'

‘Yeah, I know, and I'm sorry. I will, but I have to speak to someone first.'

‘Well, you'd better hurry up and do it, mate. These guys weren't playing around today. Who's to say that next time they won't take it a step further?'

‘Yeah, believe me, I know.'

‘Well, I hope whoever you're protecting
appreciates the risk you're taking on his or her behalf,' Logan said heavily. ‘As for your list, I'd say it has all the hallmarks of blackmail. Whoever wrote it has got something on these people and is making them pay. Have you spoken to that person? Do they know you have the list? Because I imagine
they
might be quite keen to have it back, and possibly shut you up in the process.'

‘The break-ins!' Eve exclaimed.

‘Break-ins?'

‘Yeah, I thought someone had been in the house one evening when I was out,' Gideon told him, wishing Eve had kept quiet. ‘And we had a prowler the other night, but nothing was taken, either time.'

‘And you called it in, of course,' Logan's cynicism was obvious.

‘Nothing was taken. I didn't think your lot would be all that interested, and I didn't want the hassle. It didn't occur to me that it might have anything to do with the list, at that time. It didn't seem that important.'

‘If I had a tenner for every time someone has said that to me, I'd have retired to the South of France by now,' Logan said. ‘Well, all I can suggest is that you try and find something that links two or three of the names. If you do, it's a fair bet that if you look hard enough you'll find the others fit into the pattern, too. But do me a favour and be discreet, huh? You're a stubborn bastard, but I don't particularly want to be investigating your murder; I've got enough to do!'

‘You're all heart,' Gideon said. ‘But I will be careful.'

‘Well, I think it would be far better for him just to leave the whole thing alone,' Eve stated vehemently. ‘And I'm surprised you don't tell him the same!'

‘I would, if I thought it would do any good,' Logan told her. ‘But with this guy it's more about damage limitation.'

‘I don't actually go
looking
for trouble,' Gideon protested. ‘But on the other hand, I can hardly just leave it at that, can I?'

‘I don't see why not!' Eve declared. ‘It hasn't really got anything to do with you, after all.'

‘I think this is probably where I bow out,' Logan said wisely.

‘And if you turn up anything on the fencer . . .?' Gideon asked.

‘I'll maybe let you know,' Logan said. ‘It works both ways, mister. You should remember that.'

Before he left, Logan got Eve to remove the dressings from Gideon's wrists so he could take some photographs. He then thanked her courteously for the coffee, and went on his way.

When the door shut behind him, Eve returned to Gideon on the sofa.

‘I think he was remarkably patient, considering he'd come all the way out here and you patently weren't being straight with him.'

‘I
was
being straight. I warned him I couldn't tell him all the names.'

‘All right. Not co-operating with him, then. I thought he'd be a lot tougher on you, from what you told me about him.'

‘Yeah, so did I,' Gideon said. ‘And that's a bit
worrying. It makes me wonder what he thinks he knows . . .'

Gideon spent the night at Eve's, a phone call to Pippa ensuring that Elsa would be fed, and Zebedee dining on minced beef and pasta from Eve's fridge. To Gideon's surprise, she even took the dog out for his late night ‘comfort' walk, and came back reporting that he'd tried to chase a neighbour's cat, and almost pulled her into a row of dustbins.

‘Funny how they live quite happily with their own cat but see everyone else's as fair game,' Gideon remarked.

‘What I think is funny is how you can call yourself an animal behaviourist and yet own such a crazy and ill-disciplined dog!' she retorted.

By the morning, Gideon's throbbing headache had settled down to a dull muzziness but, by contrast, his ill-treated arm and shoulder muscles had become doubly stiff and sore, and the skin felt tender, as though someone had given him a stiff brushing over with a wire brush.

Taking one look at his face, Eve made him lie face down and proceeded to work at his back and shoulders with her fingers and palms, rubbing in some strong-smelling ointment at the same time.

‘What
is
that?' Gideon asked, turning his head to one side.

‘Arnica. It'll help. Now, lie still, will you?'

It did indeed help. When she'd finished, Gideon sat up gingerly, pulled her towards him and kissed her.

‘Mmm,' she murmured. ‘Why don't we have
a lovely lazy day, doing nothing? I can call Sarah – she'll look after the gallery for me and we can just eat, drink, make love and maybe take old Zeb for a walk along the beach later.'

Gideon stroked her hair. ‘Oh, I'm sorry. I'd love to, but . . .'

‘But . . .?'

‘I promised I'd take a look at one of Tilly's horses this morning.'

‘Can't you just call her and tell her you can't make it?'

‘And then there's Angie Bowen. I'm supposed to be helping her with a new horse that has a blacksmith phobia . . .'

‘You're hardly in a fit state to wrestle with a phobic horse!' Eve pointed out. ‘Why can't you do it tomorrow? Give yourself a chance to recover.'

‘Because the blacksmith is booked for today,' he said gently. ‘I'm really sorry, but I have to go.'

‘OK. Suit yourself. I'll go and rustle up something for breakfast,' she said, pulling away and disappearing towards the kitchen. She spoke lightly but Gideon wasn't deceived.

Sighing, he slid off the bed and followed, finding her putting slices of bread in a big chrome toaster.

‘Eve . . .?'

‘Scrambled egg on toast?' she suggested without turning round.

‘Lovely.' He went across and stood behind her, drawing her curtain of dark hair aside and kissing her neck, just below her ear. ‘I will be careful, you know. I promise.'

‘I still don't understand why you can't just turn
it all over to the police and have done with it.' She turned to face him and the words burst out as though suddenly she could no longer hold them back. ‘Or tell Lloyd and Pippa, and let it be their problem. It's got nothing to do with you – but you're the one getting hurt here!'

Gideon shook his head, sliding his hands down to rest on her hips.

‘It's not that simple. You heard what Mark said. It sounds like whoever made the list was blackmailing the people on it, and I think he's right; it's the only thing that fits. I came to that conclusion myself, after I'd spoken to Bentley the other day.'

‘You didn't say anything to me.'

‘I think I've been trying to find another explanation; I didn't like that one, it makes everything very messy. Which is exactly why I can't tell the police just yet. Imagine what this would do to Tilly and her family. Bad enough that they've lost Damien, without finding out that he had another side to him that they knew nothing about!
I
feel a bit let down, myself, and
I
only knew the guy for a few weeks.'

‘But . . .' Eve clearly saw the force of this reasoning. ‘But . . . where does that leave you? If you don't want the family to get hurt, can't you just tear up the list and forget about it? Damien's dead and they've caught the guy that did it – even found the gun, for goodness sake – so presumably the blackmailing is over. Who's to know, or care? Isn't it better to leave it at that?'

BOOK: Time to Pay
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