Dick Francis - The Edge

Without fuss I withdrew from him again, but this time I went further away, beyond Leslie Brown, right down to the exit door.

'Stay there,' I said to her, passing. 'Don't say anything to him, will you?'

She shook her head, folding her thin arms over my waistcoat and across her chest. The dragon, I thought fleetingly, with the fire in abeyance.

'Here,' Lenny shouted behind me. 'Come back.'

I didn't turn round.

He wailed despairingly at the top of his voice, 'I want to get off this train.'

It was, I thought, a serious cry for help.

I went back slowly. He was standing between Flokati's stall and Sparrowgrass's, swaying unsteadily, watching me with haggard eyes.

When I was near him, I said simply, 'Why?'

'He'll kill me if I tell you.'

'That's rubbish,' I said.

'It isn't.' His voice was high. 'He said I'd effing die.'

'Who said?'

'Him.' He was trembling. The threat had been of sufficient power for him to believe it.

'Who is him?' I asked. 'One of the owners?'

He looked blank, as if I were talking gibberish.

'Who is him?' I asked again.

'Some bloke… I never saw him before.'

'Look,' I said calmingly, 'let's go back, sit on the hay, and you tell me why he said he'd kill you.' I pointed over his shoulders towards the bales and with a sort of exhausted compliance he stumbled that way and flopped into a huddled mess.

'How did he frighten you?' I asked.

'He… came to the barns… asked for me.'

'Asked for you by name?'

He nodded glumly.

'When was this?'

'Yesterday,' he said hoarsely. 'During the races.'

'Go on.'

'He said he knew all about old Icey's food being in numbered bags.' Lenny sounded aggrieved. 'Well, it wasn't a secret, was it?'

'No,' I said.

'He said he knew why… because Mrs Quentin's other horse died… 'Lenny stopped and looked as if an abyss had opened before him. 'He started saying I done it…'

'Done what ?'

Lenny was silent.

'Said you'd poisoned Mrs Quentin's other horse?' I suggested.

'I never did it. I didn't.' He was deeply agitated. 'I never.'

'But this man said you did.'

'He said I would go to jail for it, and "they do bad things to boys like you in jail", he said.' He shivered. 'I know they do. And he said… "Do you want AIDS, because you'll get it in jail, a pretty boy like you.'

Pretty, at that moment, he did not look.

'So what next?' I prompted.

'Well, I… Well, I…' he gulped. 'I said I never did it, it wasn't me… and he went on saying I'd go to jail and get AIDS and he went on and on… and I told him… I told him.'

'Told him what?'

'She's a nice lady,' he wailed. 'I didn't want to… he made me…'

'Was it Mrs Quentin,' I asked carefully, 'who poisoned her horse? '

He said miserably, 'Yes. No. See… she gave me this bag of treats… that's what she said they were, treats… and to give them to her horse when no one was looking… See, I didn't look after that horse of hers, it was another groom. So I gave her horse the bag of treats private, like… and it got colic and blew up and died… Well, I asked her, after. I was that scared… but she said it was all dreadful, she'd no idea her darling horse would get colic, and let's not say anything about it, she said, and she gave me a hundred dollars, and I didn't… I didn't want to be blamed, see?'

I did see.

I said, 'So when you told this man about the treats, what did he say?'

Lenny looked shattered. 'He grinned like a shark… all teeth… and he says… if I say anything about him to anybody… he'll see I get… I'll get… 'He finished in a whisper, 'AIDS.'

I sighed. 'Is that how he threatened to kill you?'

He nodded weakly, as if spent.

'What did he look like'' I asked.

'Like my dad.' He paused. 'I hated my dad.'

'Did he sound like your dad?' I asked.

He shook his head. 'He wasn't a Brit.'

'Canadian?'

'Or American.'

'Well,' I said, running out of questions, 'I'll see you don't get AIDS.' I thought things over. 'Stay in the car until we get to Calgary. Ms Brown will get one of the other grooms to bring your bag here. The horse car is going to be unhitched from the train, and the horses are going by motor van to some stables for two days. All the grooms are going with them, as I expect you know. You go with the other grooms And don't worry. Someone will come to find you and take you away, and bring another groom for Icy.' I paused to see if he understood, but it seemed he did. 'Where do you want to go from Calgary?'

'I don't know,' he said dully. 'Have to think.'

'All right. When the someone comes for you, tell him then what you want to do.'

He looked at me with a sort of wonderment. 'Why are you bothering? ' he asked.

'I don't like frighteners.'

He shuddered. 'My dad frightened the living daylights out of people… and me and Mum… and someone stabbed him, killed him… served him right.' He paused. 'No one ever helped the people he frightened.' He paused again, struggling for the unaccustomed word, and came up with it, 'Thanks.'

With tie and buttons all correctly fastened, Tommy went back to the dining car. Zak was just finishing a scene in which old Ben, the groom who had been importuning Raoul for money on Toronto station, had been brought in from the racegoers' part of the train to give damning (false) evidence against Raoul for having doped the Bricknells' horses, a charge flatly denied by Raoul who contrived to look virtuous and possibly guilty, both at the same time. Sympathy on the whole ended on Raoul's side because of Ben's whining nastiness, and Zak told everyone that a Most Important Witness would be coming to Chateau Lake Louise that evening to give Damaging Testimony. Against whom? some people asked. Ah, said Zak mysteriously, vanishing towards the corridor, only time would tell.

Emil, Oliver, Cathy and I set the tables for lunch and served its three courses. Filmer didn't materialize, but Daffodil did, still shaken and angry as at breakfast. Her suitcase was packed, it appeared, and she was adamant about leaving the party at Calgary. No one, it seemed, had been able to find out from her exactly what the matter was, and the lovers' tiff explanation had gained ground.

I served wine carefully and listened, but it was the appealing prospect of two days in the mountains rather than Daffodil's troubles that filled most of the minds.

When Calgary appeared like sharp white needles on the prairie horizon and everyone began pointing excitedly, I told Emil I would do my best to return for the dishwashing and sloped off up the train to George's office.

Would the credit-card telephone work in Calgary? Yes, it would. He waved me towards it as the train slowed and told me I'd got fifty minutes. He himself, as usual, would be outside, supervising.

I got through to Mrs Baudelaire, who sounded carefree and sixteen.

'Your photograph is on its way,' she said without preamble. 'But it won't get to Calgary in time. Someone will be driving from Calgary to Chateau Lake Louise later this afternoon, and they are going to take it to your Miss Richmond.'

'That's great,' I said. 'Thank you.'

'But I'm afraid there's been no word from Val Catto about your numbers.'

'It can't be helped.'

'Anything else?' she asked.

'Yes,' I said. 'I need to talk to Bill direct.'

'What a shame. I've been enjoying this.'

'Oh,' I said. 'Please… so have I. It's only that it's more than a message and question and answer. It's long… and complicated.'

'My dear young man, don't apologize. Bill was still in Winnipeg ten minutes ago. I'll call him straight away. Do you have a number?'

'Um, yes.' I read her the number on the train's handset. 'The sooner the better, would you tell him?'