Дик Фрэнсис - Break In

We began to walk from the sitting room into the hall. He’d told me what I hadn’t asked: where the alliance began. In common enmity to Maynard, who had cost them both dear.

‘Will you use the tape,’ I asked, ‘to stop Maynard now in his tracks?’

He glanced at me. ‘That would be blackmail,’ he said mildly.

‘Absolutely.’

‘Fifty thousand pounds,’ he said. ‘That tape’s cheap at the price.’

We went into the kitchen and paused again.

‘The Towncrier is the third newspaper,’ he said, ‘that has had trouble with Allardeck’s company. One paper after another... he won’t give up till he’s got one.’

‘He’s obsessive,’ I said. ‘And besides, he’s wanted all his life to have power over others... to be kowtowed to. To be a lord.’

Lord Vaughnley’s mouth opened. I told him about my grandfather, and Maynard at nine. ‘He hasn’t changed,’ I said. ‘He still wants those things. Sir first, Lord after. And don’t worry, he won’t get them. I sent a copy of the tape to where you sent your charity letter.’

He was dumbstruck. He said weakly, ‘How did you know about that letter?’

‘I saw it,’ I said. ‘I was shown it. I wanted to know who knew Maynard might be up for a knighthood, and there it was, with your name.’

He shook his head: at life in general, it seemed.

We went on through the kitchen and out into the cold air. All the lights were on round the yard and some of the box doors were open, the lads working there in the routine of evening stables.

‘Why did you try to stop me talking to Hugh?’ I asked.

‘I was wrong, I see that now. But at the time... by then you were pressing Nestor for large compensation. He wanted us simply to get back the wire-tap and shut you up.’ He spread his hands. ‘No one imagined, you see, that you would do all that you’ve done. I mean, when it was just a matter of disgracing Allardeck in the public eye, no one could have foreseen... no one even thought of your existence, let alone considered you a factor. No one knew you would defend your brother-in-law, or be... as you are.’

We walked across the yard to the car where Pollgate and Erskine were waiting, shadowy figures behind glass.

‘If I were you,’ I said, ‘I’d find out if Maynard owns the bookmakers that Hugh bet with. If he does, you can threaten him with fraud, and get Hugh’s shares back, I should think.’

We stopped a few feet from the car.

‘You’re generous,’ he said.

We stood there, face to face, not knowing whether or not to shake hands.

‘Hugh had no chance against Maynard,’ I said.

‘No.’ He paused. ‘I’ll let him come home.’

He looked at me lengthily, the mind behind the grey eyes perhaps totting up, as I was, where we stood.

Even if he hadn’t intended it, he had set in motion the attacks on Bobby; yet because of them Bobby would be much better off. From the dirt, gold.

If he offered his hand, I thought, I would take it.

Tentatively, unsure, that’s what he did. I shook it briefly; an acknowledgement, a truce.

‘See you at the races,’ I said.

When they had gone I went and found the pistol and the stun gun outside the sitting-room window, and with them in my pockets returned to the kitchen, where Holly and Bobby were looking more dazed than happy.

‘Tea?’ I said hopefully.

They didn’t seem to hear. I put the kettle on and got out some cups.

‘Kit...’ Holly said. ‘Bobby told me...’

‘Yeah... well... have you a lemon?’ I said.

She dumbly fetched me one from the refrigerator, and sliced it.

Bobby said, ‘I nearly killed you.’

His distress, I saw, was still blotting out any full realisation — or celebration — of the change in his fortunes. He still looked pale, still gaunt round the eyes.

‘But you didn’t,’ I said.

‘No... when you turned your back on me, I thought, I can’t shoot him in the back... not in the back... and I woke up. Like waking from a nightmare. I couldn’t... how could I... I stood there with that gun, sweating at how near I’d come...’

‘You frightened me silly,’ I said. ‘Let’s forget it.’

‘How can we?’

‘Easily.’ I punched his arm lightly. ‘Concentrate, my old chum, on being a daddy.’

The kettle boiled and Holly made the tea; and we heard a car driving into the yard.

‘They’ve come back,’ Holly said in dismay.

We went out to see, all of us fearful.

The car was large and bewilderingly familiar. Two of its doors opened and from one came Thomas, the princess’s chauffeur, in his best uniform, and from the other, scrambling and running, Danielle.

‘Kit...’ She ran headlong into my arms, her face screwed up with worry. ‘Are you... are you really OK?’

‘Yes, I am. You can see.’

She put her head on my shoulder and I held her close, and felt her trembling, and kissed her hair.

Thomas opened a third door of the car and helped out the princess, holding the sable coat for her to put on over the silk suit against the cold.

‘I am glad, Kit,’ she said calmly, snuggling into the fur, ‘to see you are alive and well.’ She looked from me to Bobby and Holly. ‘You are Bobby, you are Holly, is that right?’ She held out her hand to them, which they blankly shook.

‘We are here,’ she said, ‘because my niece Danielle insisted that we come.’ She was explaining, half apologising for her presence. ‘When I went home after the Icefall luncheon,’ she said to me, ‘Danielle was waiting on the pavement. She said you were in very great danger, and that you were at your sister’s house in Newmarket. She didn’t know how she knew, but she was certain. She said that we must come at once.’

Bobby and Holly looked astounded.

‘As I know that with you, Kit, telepathy definitely exists,’ the princess said, ‘and as you had disappeared from the lunch and were reported to be ill, and as Danielle was distraught... we came. And I see she was right in part at least. You are here, at your sister’s house.’

‘She was right about the rest,’ Holly said soberly. ‘He was in that danger... a split second from dying.’ She looked at my face. ‘Did you think of her then?’

I swallowed. ‘Yes, I did.’

‘Holy wow,’ Holly said.

‘Kit says that too,’ Danielle said, lifting her head from my neck and beginning to recover. ‘It’s awesome.’

‘We always did,’ Holly said. She looked at Danielle with growing interest and understanding, and slowly smiled with pleasure.

‘She’s like us, isn’t she?’ she said.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I’ve never known what she was thinking.”

‘You might, after this’; and to Danielle, with friendship, she said, ‘Think of something. See if he can tell what it is.’

‘OK.’

There was a silence. The only thought in my head was that telepathy was unpredictable and only sometimes worked to order.

I looked at the princess, and at Bobby and Holly, and saw in their faces the same hope, the same expectation, the same realisation that this moment might matter in all our futures.

I smiled into Danielle’s eyes. I knew, for a certainty.

‘Dustsheets.’ I said.