Warned Off (12 page)

Next
morning I took a taxi to Mac’s friend’s house. He gave me the keys to a black
2-litre injection Cavalier which was parked on a concrete standing at the
bottom of his long drive.

When I reached the car I started
practising a routine I intended to make habitual.

Cupping my hands around my eyes to block
out reflection I looked inside the car, at the seats, back and front, and the
floor, Going to the opposite side I did the same. I went to the rear passenger
door, then thought again and turned to the boot. Opening it, I took out the
floor rug and put it on the ground, then I knelt down and bent low so I could
see the underside of the body.

Where I couldn’t see I ran my hands
over. I moved the mat around and covered the whole car.

I was congratulating myself on thinking
ahead and being clever when it dawned on me that while I was poking my head
under cars someone could be aiming at it with ten inches of lead pipe.

Still, I would have to learn as I went
along and hope my next mistake didn’t prove costlier than my first. When I was
sure no one had stuck fifty pounds of gelignite on the chassis I got in and
shut the door. It was quiet. Thinking of the last time I had driven a car,
memories of the pain came back and scared me a little. But I shook them off. My
mood was bright, positive. I was out, doing something, ready to hunt this time,
ready for trouble.

Taped to the steering wheel was a note
from McCarthy: ‘Eddie, this is a Jockey Club vehicle, for God’s sake take care
of it.’

Slanting the rear-view mirror round I
saw my reflection. Still bad but getting better – even my face couldn’t depress
me today.

I headed for the police station to find out
exactly how much damage Cranley had done.

After his usual bluster he admitted he’d
removed the guard on the third day, planning to review the situation daily. He
didn’t get a chance. By noon the same day Harle had disappeared.

Fellow patients reported he’d been
wheeled away on a trolley by two male nurses wearing surgical masks. Cranley
said he was now pursuing a ‘certain line of inquiry.’

He took a statement about the attack on
me then told me I deserved all I got for playing amateur detective. He seemed
to find an evil delight in meeting someone at last whose skin was worse than
his. I spent an hour with him. He would have liked it to be longer, he would
have wanted to have me there for days, locked in a cell, he told me. And he
repeated his promise to ‘get me’. I told him he’d be better off trying to ‘get’
Harle or, rather, his corpse.

The meeting ended in the usual shouting
match. I walked away, my ears ringing with another warning to stay out of it.

 I had little hope of him talking
but I drove to Nottingham next to try to see Bergmark. He was in the same spot
by the door in his wheelchair wearing the same clothes, almost as if he’d never
moved since I’d last been there. There was no sign of the sister.

I had to remind him who I was and he
started into the same spiel about me being a good jockey, but as soon as I
mentioned Danny Gordon’s name he clammed up and sat staring straight ahead.

‘You and Rask were blackmailing him,
weren’t you?’ Silence. ‘Answer a few questions and I’ll leave you alone. I promise
not to involve the police.’ Nothing. ‘The men who did this to you, were they
working for Kruger? No response. I even tried a veiled threat, ‘Rask’s dead now
...’ But his expression was blank.

I gave up. It was late afternoon. I set
off on the two-hour drive home.

Halfway down the track to the cottage I
pulled over and parked in a small clearing. Locking the car I crept through the
trees toward the cottage.

From the front it looked to be as I’d
left it. Staying in the trees I circled warily to the back - nothing. All the
windows and doors looked secure. Moving to the front again I hid behind a broad
oak for five minutes, watching and listening. Nothing. My mind told me there
was nobody there, but my heart pounded as I crouched and hurried across the track
for a close-up check of the whole building.

There were no signs of entry, no
footprints in soft soil, nothing amateur. Turning the key in the lock I hoped
there was nothing professional waiting inside.

I opened the door into the living-room
and immediately, instinctively, pulled it closed again as my brain registered
someone sitting in the chair by the fireplace. In the time it took my heart to
miss a beat, recognition followed and I opened the door again. Jackie, the girl
who’d ‘saved’ me and taken me to Roscoe’s, was slumped in the chair.

Resisting the temptation to rush to her
in case it was a set-up I cautiously pushed the door slowly all the way in till
it touched the wall. Nobody was hiding behind it. I could see the whole room. No
sign of anyone else. The only sound was Jackie’s steady breathing.

Moving silently through the house I
checked all the rooms and cupboards. None concealed any threat. I hurried back
to Jackie.

Holding her wrist in a pulse-taking grip
I gently raised her chin. Slowly she opened her eyes and smiled. ‘Hello,’ she
said, ‘I must have fallen asleep ... I’ve been waiting ages.’

‘Holy Mary Mother o’ God,’ I said in an
Irish accent whilst slumping back to sit on the floor. ‘You had me scared half
to death. How the hell did you get in?’

‘Don’t you mock me!’ she said, trying
not to laugh. ‘The back door was open.’

‘You’re kidding!’

‘I’m not! It wasn’t lying open but it
wasn’t locked. I just turned the handle.’

‘Jeez!’ I couldn’t believe it. All those
precautions I’d been taking with the car and creeping through the woods and I’d
gone out and left a door unlocked.

‘At least you’re okay, I said. ‘I
thought they’d done you in and dumped you here.’

‘Who?’ She was still smiling.

‘The same people who did this to my
face.’

‘It’s better than it was when I last saw
you.’

‘Not much.’

She stared at me, the smile fading.
‘Does it still hurt?’

‘A bit, but I’ll survive. Listen, I hate
to seem inhospitable, but what are you doing here?’

‘I went to see you at the hospital last
night but they said you’d gone home. They gave me your address and I hitched a
lift this morning.’

‘Does Mr Roscoe know you’re here?’

She shook her head. ‘I had a few days
off coming so I told him me mother was ill and I had to go home and see her.’

‘Where’s home?’

‘Killarney.’

‘He thinks you’re in Ireland?’

She smiled mischievously. ‘Well that’s
where Killarney was the last time I looked!’

I smiled. ‘So instead, you’ve come all
the way up here to see me?’

‘It’s hardly all the way, it only takes
about an hour and half in a motor.’

‘That’s long enough, especially to see
somebody who caused you nothing but hassle and wouldn’t let you phone doctors
when you wanted to.’

‘Well, you’re right, but I’d spent money
on a present for you and I’m not one for waste.’ She reached into a baggy
rucksack and handed me a book.

Short stories. I looked at her. ‘You
didn’t seem the type to read anything that would take long.’ She said.

‘I don’t know how to take that, but
thanks.’ She blushed slightly but held my gaze. We looked at each other in
silence. There was a definite attraction between us, though God knows what she
saw in me through raw blistered skin. She read my thoughts.

‘Will you be badly scarred?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘Only for your sake.’

‘The doctor said he didn’t think so. The
liquid that forms inside the blisters can do more damage than anything if it
seeps out but he said we’re over that problem, though they weren’t exactly
delighted when I discharged myself.’

She nodded slowly and after a few
moments of silence said quietly, ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were in trouble
with Mr Roscoe?’

I shrugged. ‘Well, firstly, I didn’t
know I was in trouble with Mr Roscoe till somebody tried to boil my face and
secondly there was no reason to suppose you would take my side. You’ve worked
for him for a while, haven’t you?’

‘About two years.’

‘And you hadn’t known me two minutes.
Besides, by the time I realised where you were taking me it was too late to do anything
about it. Not that I was in a fit state to.’

‘You should have said something.’

‘There was no point, especially since
Bobby would have talked anyway.’

‘How did you know?’ She seemed
surprised.

‘Because he thought I was a one-man
freak show. There was no way he was going to keep quiet.’ I had thought at the
time about asking her not to mention me to Roscoe but she would have been
compromised when Bobby talked. It wasn’t a responsibility I was entitled to put
on her.

‘I knew there was something wrong when
you didn’t want to stay in the house even long enough for a doctor to get
there, so I decided not to say anything about you when Mr Roscoe came home.’

‘But Bobby blabbed anyway?’

She nodded. ‘Then he asked me why I
hadn’t told him and I had to say I was going to only Bobby didn’t give me
time.’

‘Did he believe you?’

‘I think so but I suspected right off
there was something funny because he knew who you were even though nobody told
him your name.’

‘Does he know where I am now?’

‘I don’t know.’ She stared at me,
hesitant, real concern in her eyes. ‘I heard him talking about you on the phone
yesterday afternoon and he was in a fierce temper. Whoever was at the other end
was trying to calm him down but he said you’d just cause more trouble and that
they should have done more than just try to scare you off.’

‘They came pretty close to it.’

‘And he said the man was now deciding if
he wanted it done properly.’

‘Who’s the man?’

She shrugged. ‘I thought you might
know.’

I shook my head slowly. ‘Did he say when
the next time would be?’

‘No. What is it they’re doing?’ she
asked. ‘Why do they want to kill you?’

The more she knew the more danger she’d
be in. I had to decide how much I wanted her tied up in this.

‘I’ve half an idea, but that’s all it
is. And anyway, the less you know the better. For your own sake.’

‘What about you?’

‘I’ll put some sort of plan together.
Don’t worry.’

‘Is there anyone helping you?’

‘Sort of. Look, don’t worry, I’ll be
okay.’

She gazed at me again with those beautiful
brown eyes. ‘Let me help you.’

I stood up. ‘Jackie, you don’t even know
me! I could be a crook or a murderer.’

She smiled at me and wrinkled her nose.
‘What a crap line! What gangster movie did you get that from?’

I laughed. ‘I give up.’ I said and
headed for the kitchen. ‘Want some coffee?’ I asked.

‘I’ll take some coffee if you let me
help you.’

‘Okay, you can wash the cups.’

‘Very funny. You know what I mean.’

‘I know what you mean and it’s a crazy
idea.’

She followed me through to the kitchen.
‘How can it be crazy? I’m in the perfect place to spy for you.’

‘That’s what bothers me. You’re also in
the perfect place to have your face ending up like mine and then how would I
feel, especially since yours is a damn sight prettier to start with?’

‘Flattery won’t put me off, Eddie.’

‘I was already getting that impression.’

‘Well?’

‘Well, let’s have a cup of coffee and
talk about something else like how we’re going to get you back to Roscoe’s.’

‘I can’t go back till Sunday, remember?
I’m in Ireland.’

I turned to her and put my hands on her
shoulders. ‘When I opened the door and saw you in that chair my first thought
was, big trouble. Then I recognised you and said, Thank God, it’s only Jackie.
I’m beginning to think the first impression was right.’

She smiled her soft warm smile again
then, leaning forward, she closed her eyes and kissed me softly. I flinched.
‘Does it hurt?’ She asked.

I nodded. She frowned. ‘But life’s a
compromise, I suppose.’ I said and pulled her close again.

Maybe
if I’d been physically and emotionally stronger, maybe if I’d been in a serious
relationship during the last couple of years rather than the odd tacky drunken
one-night stand, I would have succumbed less easily to Jackie’s determined
seduction.

But I, or rather we, ended up doing
nothing for the next three days but making love, indoors and out, walking in
the woods, eating, drinking, sleeping, laughing, talking (the only taboo
subject was Roscoe, Harle and associates).

At twenty she was seven years my junior
but she cooked for me, tended my blisters, bathed me, made me laugh, made me
feel worthwhile and made me fall in love with her.

When McCarthy rang on Saturday to ask if
Harle had been found I was sorely tempted to tell him I was giving up. It just
didn’t seem to matter any more. I was infatuated with Jackie, and she was, I
think, with me.

She was due back at Roscoe’s on Sunday
morning. I told her we’d rise before dawn and I’d drive her there. On Saturday
night I took her to dinner. In the previous three days Jackie had made me
forget all about my face and we breezed in to the restaurant laughing, only for
some of the ruder diners to stare almost open-mouthed at this Beauty and the
Beast.

She gazed at me through the candle
flame. ‘Never mind, when your face is better we’ll come back and show them!’

‘They’ll probably get a bigger shock
than they just did.’

‘What do you actually look like under
all that, anyway?’

‘A cross between Mel Gibson and Tom Cruise.
It won’t be my fault, of course, if I don’t return completely to my former
glory.’

She smiled and squeezed my hand. ‘I’ll
never forget seeing your face that first morning. I almost fainted.’

‘I was doing enough fainting for both of
us, thanks.’

We ordered champagne while we waited for
our food. I reached for her hand. ‘I’ll miss you.’ I said.

‘I won’t go then.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Why not? It’s not exactly the best job
in the world. I’ll miss the horses, but you would just about make up for that.’

I thought about it. ‘We could leave
here,’ she said. ‘Go to Ireland. I know places where they’d never find us.’

‘They ... That’s the trouble, that’s
what it would always come back to. They ... Them ... Looking over our shoulders
all the time.’

‘Why would it come to that?’ What have
you done that would make them hunt you down?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it, Jackie.
I don’t want you involved.’

‘Okay, so I won’t get involved, I
promise. I’m only asking you what you’ve done so far which means you can’t stop
now?’

I thought about it. ‘Nothing, I
suppose.’ It was the easy way out, the way Kruger wanted me to take. To clear
the field and let him run riot.

‘Well, then,’ Jackie said, ‘why don’t
you forget it? You don’t have any family ties, there’s nothing to keep us here.’

Us. Me and Jackie, tucked away in some
little Irish village. No more villains, no more scaldings, no more stupid
policemen.

‘I could ring Mr Roscoe in the morning,’
Jackie said. ‘Tell him I’m not coming back because me mother’s worse than I
thought. We could leave tomorrow.’

I looked at her and saw the happiness in
her eyes at the thought of it. Leaning across the table, holding both my hands,
every ounce of her was saying, please, let’s go, and most of me was agreeing.
She reached forward and gently touched my cheek, and I thought back on what had
happened to me.

I thought of the two bastards who’d done
it and what they’d done to others. I thought how happy they’d feel if they’d
had another success and frightened me away. Then there was Kruger, how satisfying
it would be for him if I dropped out, he’d have cost me my licence twice.

And Alan Harle who, although I knew he
must be mixed up with the crooks, I’d begun to feel some real responsibility
for. I’d certainly suffered for him. McCarthy too, he was a pain in the arse at
times, but he’d stood by me. God knows how much fighting he’d had to do to keep
me on the case.

Then there was the matter of a certain
racecourse less than a mile from where I sat. A course where they ran the Gold
Cup and the Champion Hurdle, where the best steeplechasers in the country
soared over big black fences, a course which tested jockeys’ skills more than
any other ...

She saw it in my eyes. ‘I think I’ve
lost this one, Eddie, haven’t I?’

‘Don’t count it as a loss. We’ll think back
sometime and we’ll be glad we didn’t run.’

‘We will or you will?’

‘Both of us. I know I could never live
with it and I’d take it out on you.’

‘I’m strong, I can stand it.’

I smiled at her youthful optimism.
‘Maybe for a month or a year, but not for ever.’

‘Try me.’

‘Listen to the wisdom of an older man.’

‘But ...’

I squeezed her hand and shook my head.
‘It’s our last night, let’s not argue.’

Pursing her lips she lowered her head and
nodded almost imperceptibly. Right on cue the waiter brought the champagne.

All through dinner she worked on me to
let her help. I was dead against it for her sake, but she persisted. I knew she
would make a valuable ally, the best I could wish for, a spy in the camp. On
the drive home we reached a compromise.

‘Okay, we’re agreed,’ I said.’ You take
no chances whatsoever. You don’t go prowling around, you don’t ask anybody any
questions, and I mean anybody, even someone you think you can trust. All you do
is listen and observe as you go about your normal daily business. All right?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Come on, Jackie, this is serious.’

‘Okay! Okay! But I’m not a kid, you
know!’

‘I know you’re not. You’re twenty and I
want you to live till you’re thirty, and then forty and so on. That’s why I’m
going to keep drilling into you how dangerous this is. These people are killers
and maimers. The two guys who do the dirty work positively enjoy it, to the
extent that they like to think of imaginative ways to assault new people on
their list. Think about it!’

She was silent for a minute as we drove
through the darkness, then she said, ‘Tell me the story so far.’ By the time we
reached the cottage I’d told her everything.

I didn’t really learn much that was new
from Jackie about the people at Roscoe’s, though the fact that Roscoe ran a
couple of horses regularly at the small tracks in France was interesting. The
runners were always accompanied on their travels by either Skinner or Harle.
I’d bet they weren’t there just for the racing.

Lying together on the rug in the
firelight we finalised plans. ‘I’m particularly interested in what Skinner’s
doing at the yard,’ I said. I felt her shiver.

‘Yugh!’

‘Not your favourite person, I guess?’

‘He’s a dirty old bastard. Always trying
to touch me up or making filthy suggestions.’

‘He does look the part.’

‘If I’m grooming or mucking out he’ll
wait till my back’s turned and, preferably, till I’m bending over, then he
sneaks into the box under some silly pretext and tries it on.’

‘You’d be amazed how much he’d probably
respond to a well aimed prod with a pitchfork.’

‘I thought of that but up till now I’ve
needed the job too much. Once this is over I’ll think of some way to get him
back.’

‘Let me know, I’d like to be there.’

‘I will.’

‘How long has he been at the yard?’

‘Almost a year. I remember him first
trying to grope me on Derby day.’

‘Just doing normal vet-type things,
apart from the groping, that is?’

‘Yes, as far as I can see. He takes
blood tests, checks legs, gives injections, that sort of stuff.’

‘Ever seen him injecting what you
thought was a healthy horse?’

‘No, definitely not. I’d have noticed.
Then again I don’t see everything he does.’

‘I bet you don’t. Where does he live?’

‘Mr Roscoe moved him into the head lad’s
cottage when he arrived.’

‘Must have pleased the head lad.’

‘He left shortly afterwards.’

‘Does Skinner have a lab to analyse the
blood tests?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Ever been in his cottage?’

‘What kind of a girl do you think I am?’

I smiled. ‘Come on, Jackie, stop messing
about.’

‘No, I haven’t. Nobody goes up there
‘cause he keeps this big bloody Rottweiler and lets it roam around the house.’

‘Does he spend much time in the
cottage?’

‘Can’t say I’ve really noticed.’

‘That’s one thing you could start
looking out for then, but for God’s sake don’t take any chances.’

‘Okay, okay, I won’t!’ She leaned
forward and kissed me. ‘You’re a terrible nag, Edward Malloy!’

‘I’ve ridden some terrible nags, too in
my time.’

She grimaced. ‘Your jokes are worse than
your face!’

I grabbed her around the waist. ‘But you
love it anyway.’

‘Oh, do I now?’

And we kissed. Then, in the glow of the
dying embers, we made love, but not with the passion and energy of the last
three days. Thoughts remained unspoken but we knew the next time might be weeks
or months away or, depending on the coming days, depending on Kruger and his
men, maybe never.

On the drive to Roscoe’s next morning we
went over the things she was to watch out for: any sign or mention of Harle or
Kruger or the two men, any hint of what Skinner did on a daily basis. She was
to ring me from the pub each night if she could, at ten o’clock, though I told
her not to worry if I wasn’t there. I stressed again she was to take no
chances.

‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘What are
your plans? How do I get in touch?’

‘Tomorrow I’m going to Kempton in the
hope of seeing Harle’s girlfriend. She hangs around the London tracks and
there’s a chance if he’s still alive that he’s tried to contact her. Where I go
from there I don’t know yet but I’ll keep you up to date each time we talk.
‘Remember, if you can’t get me or if anything happens to me, you’ve got
McCarthy’s number. I’ll speak to him tomorrow and tell him what we’ve planned.’

We stopped a mile from Roscoe’s knowing
it was safer if she walked the rest of the way. As dawn broke we stood holding
each other tightly, then we parted in silence.