Felix Francis - Dick Francis's Front Runner

I did think about asking her to get my laptop but I could do most things via the internet with just my iPhone. Furthermore, my laptop was somewhere in my bedroom and I wasn’t at all sure I wanted Faye exploring more of my home than was absolutely necessary. To be honest, I would have been much happier if the police had agreed to retrieve my phone. I knew that asking my sister to go there was a mistake.

Faye was a naturally tidy person. She had been since childhood, and she had unsuccessfully tried to instil into her younger brother the same culture of neatness and order. Hence, since Lydia’s departure and the move to my new flat, I had resisted all Faye’s attempts to come over to check up on me.

And now here I was sending her there unaccompanied. I must be crazy. But I really needed that phone. And surely, whatever the state of the place, sending Faye was better than asking Henri to go.

Only after she had gone did I worry about her security.

What if Darryl Gareth Lawrence and his sidekick were waiting in the bushes outside my front door?

But why would they do anything to Faye? Lawrence had specifically asked the nurse, Where’s Hinkley? It was me they wanted, not my sister.

Nevertheless, I was greatly relieved when Faye returned about an hour and a half later with my phone plus charger.

‘How are things?’ I asked.

‘It’s not very tidy,’ she said in an accusing manner.

‘That must have been due to my attackers. Or possibly the police forensic team.’

She looked at me. ‘I don’t suppose either of those would be responsible for the stack of dirty mugs and plates in the sink, or for the washing hung on the back of your sofa, or even for the clothes lying on the floor of your bedroom.’

I looked rather sheepishly at her.

‘And they surely wouldn’t have packed up those removal boxes to leave in the hallway. How long have you been there now? Nearly a year? Isn’t it time you unpacked?’

‘I will,’ I said.

And I would. I’d tidy the place too, especially if I was going to entertain a certain Miss Henrietta Shawcross there anytime soon, as I dearly hoped I would be.

‘So, are you coming out tomorrow?’ Faye asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘I had to have some of my stitches redone this morning.’

‘Why?’

‘A few of those on my abdomen split open.’

‘You haven’t been doing those press-ups again, I hope,’ Faye said with a laugh, but she must have seen something in my face because she stopped laughing. ‘What happened?’

‘I had some unexpected and unwanted visitors in the night.’

‘Not the same men?’

I nodded.

‘But that’s dreadful. How did they know you were here? And how the hell did they get in?’

‘That’s what the police are trying to find out,’ I said. ‘But at least we now know who one of them is. I recognized him from a police photo.’

‘Who is it?’

‘Someone called Darryl Lawrence.’

She stared at me with a blank expression.

‘I’ve never heard of him either,’ I said, ‘but he’s had lots of previous convictions for violence and has spent time in prison.’

‘Why is he coming after you?’

‘I don’t know. I can only imagine that someone is paying him to kill me. The police are searching for him, so we might find out more when they find him.’

Faye was distressed.

She had been under the erroneous impression that the attack at my home had been as a result of a random burglary which had somehow gone terribly wrong. To discover that her little brother was being specifically targeted by a hired killer came as an unwelcome shock.

‘But who would want to kill you ?’ she asked desperately, like a mother wondering how anyone could harm her beloved child.

‘That is exactly what I’ve been trying to figure out.’

‘It’s that bloody job of yours,’ she said angrily. ‘Why can’t you do something safer? Q has connections and you’re smart. I am sure you could get a nice safe banking job in the City.’

‘I don’t want a banking job in the City,’ I said. ‘I’d be bored to death. I like what I do.’

‘It’s so dangerous.’

Maybe that’s why I liked it, but I wasn’t going to say so.

Not today.

Faye stayed for most of the afternoon, sitting quietly reading a book, while I wrote out two formal statements, one for DI Galvin concerning the previous night’s events, and the other for DS Jagger about my conversations with Dave Swinton and my twin excursions into his sauna.

‘Can I read them?’ Faye asked when I’d finished.

‘I don’t think you should,’ I said, but I knew I had little or no chance of preventing it. Throughout my life since I was eight, Faye had always been the one in charge and, while I might not always do as she wanted — especially in the employment department — she usually got her way. If she was determined to read my statements, she would.

I meekly handed over the handwritten sheets and lay awkwardly on the bed while she sat on the chair next to it, reading them through from start to finish.

‘Jeff,’ she said eventually, ‘I just can’t believe all of this. Is it really true?’

‘Every word,’ I said.

I was prevented from having a further ear bashing by the arrival of the detective constable from Thames Valley Police.

‘I’ve already written my statement,’ I said, and I took it from Faye to give to him.

He stood reading it through, then asked me to sign it in his presence. ‘I’ll need to get this typed up properly on a Section 9 form. You’ll have to sign again, but this will do for now.’

The policeman departed with the folded sheets of paper in his pocket.

‘ Please will you come and stay with Q and me when you get out of here,’ Faye implored, almost in tears. ‘I don’t want you going back to your flat. It’s not safe.’

‘OK,’ I said, giving in gracefully. ‘I will. But only until the police catch Darryl Lawrence.’

That seemed to satisfy her.

‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘how are you feeling? It should be me looking after you, not the other way round.’

‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘I’m just tired all the time. It’s the bloody drugs.’

‘You don’t have to stay,’ I said, knowing full well that she believed she was acting as my bodyguard. ‘There should be a uniformed policeman outside in the reception area to keep me alive and well.’

She stood up and went to have a look.

‘He’s chatting up the nurses,’ Faye said in a tone that expressed disapproval.

‘Sensible man,’ I said. ‘At least he’s here.’

I hadn’t altogether believed that he would be.

‘I’ll go, then,’ Faye said. ‘I need to get home and make up the bed in the spare room.’

‘I don’t want to be any trouble,’ I said.

‘It’s no trouble.’ She smiled and gave me a peck on the cheek. ‘Now, you be careful.’

It was a serious instruction.

Henri came to see me soon after six o’clock, wafting in wearing a full-length camel-coloured coat with a hood. She looked gorgeous.

‘Sorry I’m so late,’ she said. ‘I had to finish something at work.’

I just beamed. I was so pleased to see her.

Henri removed her coat to reveal a stunning black-and-red tartan dress with a wide black leather belt, and knee-high black suede boots with stiletto heels.

My heart went all a-flutter. Where was Doctor Shwan when you needed him?

‘Wow!’ I said.

‘Do you like it?’ She smiled and did a twirl. ‘It’s all new.’

‘It’s lovely,’ I said. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Nowhere. I wore it for you.’

Wow! again.

‘But I had expected you to be a bit smarter,’ she said. ‘What happened to the jim-jams I bought you?’