Dick Francis - Odds against

‘Yes.’

‘I didn’t leave a mark on him, you know. Not a scratch… He said you were at Seabury racecourse. Well, I knew that was probably right, and that he wasn’t trying the same sort of misdirection you had, because you’d told me yourself that you were going there. He said that you were in the weighing room and that the boiler would soon blow up. He said that he hoped it would kill you. He seemed half out of his mind with rage about you. How he should have known better than to believe you, he should have realised that you were as slippery as a snake, he’d been fooled once before… He said he’d taken it for granted you were telling the truth when you broke down and changed your story about the negatives being in the office, because you… because you were begging for mercy and morphine and God knows what.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I know all about that.’

Chico turned away from the window, his face lightening into a near grin, ‘You don’t say,’ he said.

‘He wouldn’t have believed it if I’d given in sooner, or less thoroughly. Kraye would have done, but not him. It was very annoying.’

‘Annoying,’ said Chico. ‘I like that word.’ He paused, considering. ‘At what moment exactly did you think of sending Bolt to me?’

‘About half an hour before they caught me,’ I admitted. ‘Go on. What happened next?’

‘There was a ball of string on Radnor’s writing desk, so I tied old Fatso up with that in an uncomfortable position. Then there was the dicey problem of who to ring up to get the rescue squads on the way. I mean, the Seabury police might think I was some sort of a nut, ringing up at that hour and telling such an odd sort of story. At the best, they might send a bobby or two out to have a look, and the Krayes would easily get away. And I reckoned you’d want them rounded up red-handed, so to speak. I couldn’t get hold of Radnor on account of the office phones being plasticated. So, well, I rang Lord Hagbourne.’

‘You didn’t!’

‘Well, yes. He was O.K., he really was. He listened to what I told him about you and the boiler and the Krayes and so on, and then he said, “Right”, he’d see that half the Sussex police force turned up at Seabury racecourse as soon as possible.’

‘Which they did.’

‘Which they did,’ agreed Chico. ‘To find that my old pal Sid had dealt with the boiler himself, but was otherwise in a fairly ropy state.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘For everything.’

‘Be my guest.’

‘Will you do me another favour?’

‘Yes, what?’

‘I was supposed to take someone out to lunch today. She’ll be wondering why I didn’t turn up. I’d have got one of the nurses to ring her, but I still don’t know her telephone number.’

‘Are you talking about Miss Zanna Martin? The poor duck with the disaster area of a face?’

‘Yes,’ I said, surprised.

‘Then don’t worry. She wasn’t expecting you. She knows you’re here.’

‘How?’

‘She turned up at Bolt’s office yesterday morning, to deal with the mail apparently, and found a policeman waiting on the doorstep with a search warrant. When he had gone she put two and two together smartly and trailed over to the Cromwell Road to find out what was going on. Radnor had gone down to Seabury with Lord Hagbourne, but I was there poking about in the ruins, and we sort of swapped info. She was a bit upset about you, mate, in a quiet sort of way. Anyhow, she won’t be expecting you to take her out to lunch.’

‘Did she say anything about having one of our files?’

‘Yes. I told her to hang on to it for a day or two. There frankly isn’t anywhere in the office to put it.’

‘All the same, you go over to where she lives as soon as you get back, and collect it. It’s the Brinton file. And take great care of it. The negatives Kraye wanted are inside it.’

Chico stared. ‘You’re not serious.’

‘Why not?’

‘But everyone… Radnor, Lord Hagbourne, even Kraye and Bolt, and the police… everyone has taken it for granted that what you said first was right, that they were in the office and were blown up.’

‘It’s lucky they weren’t,’ I said. ‘Get some more prints made. We’ve still got to find out why they were so hellishly important. And don’t tell Miss Martin they were what Kraye wanted.’

The door opened and one of the pretty nurses came in.

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to go now,’ she said to Chico. She came close beside the bed and took my pulse. ‘Haven’t you any sense?’ she exclaimed, looking at him angrily. ‘A few quiet minutes was what we said. Don’t talk too much, and don’t let Mr Halley talk at all.’

‘You try giving him orders,’ said Chico cheerfully, ‘and see where it gets you.’

‘Zanna Martin’s address,’ I began.

‘No,’ said the nurse severely. ‘No more talking.’

I told Chico the address.

‘See what I mean?’ he said to the nurse. She looked down at me and laughed. A nice girl behind the starch.

Chico went across the room and opened the door.

‘So long, then, Sid. Oh, by the way, I brought this for you to read. I thought you might be interested.’

He pulled a glossy booklet folded lengthwise out of an inner pocket and threw it over on to the bed. It fell just out of my reach, and the nurse picked it up to give it me. Then suddenly she held on to it tight.

‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘You can’t give him that!’

‘Why not?’ said Chico. ‘What do you think he is, a baby?’

He went out and shut the door. The nurse clung to the booklet, looking very troubled. I held out my hand for it.

‘Come on.’

‘I think I ought to ask the doctors…’

‘In that case,’ I said, ‘I can guess what it is. Knowing Chico. So be a dear and hand it over. It’s quite all right.’

She gave it to me hesitantly, waiting to see my reaction when I caught sight of the bold words on the cover.

‘Artificial Limbs. The Modern Development.’

I laughed. ‘He’s a realist,’ I said. ‘You wouldn’t expect him to bring fairy stories.’

When Radnor came the next day he looked tired, dispirited, and ten years older. The military jauntiness had gone from his bearing, there were deep lines around his eyes and mouth, and his voice was lifeless.

For some moments he stared in obvious distress at the white-wrapped arm which stopped abruptly four inches below the elbow.

‘I’m sorry about the office,’ I said.

‘For God’s sake…’

‘Can it be rebuilt? How bad is it?’

‘Sid…’

‘Are the outside walls still solid, or is the whole place a write-off?’

‘I’m too old,’ he said, giving in, ‘to start again.’

‘It’s only bricks and mortar that are damaged. You haven’t got to start again. The agency is you, not the building. Everyone can work for you just as easily somewhere else.’

He sat down in an arm-chair, rested his head back, and closed his eyes.

‘I’m tired,’ he said.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve had much sleep since it happened.’

‘I am seventy-one,’ he said flatly.

I was utterly astounded. Until that day I would have put him in the late fifties.

‘You can’t be.’

‘Time passes,’ he said. ‘Seventy-one.’

‘If I hadn’t suggested going after Kraye it wouldn’t have happened,’ I said with remorse. ‘I’m so sorry… so sorry…’

He opened his eyes. ‘It wasn’t your fault. If it was anyone’s it was my own. You wouldn’t have let Hagbourne take those photographs to Seabury, if it had been left to you. I know you didn’t like it, that I’d given them to him. Letting the photographs go to Seabury was the direct cause of the bombs, and it was my mistake, not yours.’