‘Yes, this is Charlie. Who’s calling?’
‘We’ve got your ’orse. You’ve got our note. We want the million pounds by eight o’clock tonight. No police. No publicity. Just the money.’
Charlie swallowed hard. She needed to stall for time.
‘We don’t have that much, I’m afraid. We could get you half by tonight if you tell us where to find Noble Warrior, and then I promise we’ll pay the rest of it by the end of the week.’
There was silence at the end of the phone. Charlie thought she could hear a horse whinnying in the background. She was sure it was Noble Warrior. ‘Please, sir,’ she continued. ‘He’s very sensitive and he needs to be here at home.’
‘No.’ The distorted voice was firm. ‘Half ain’t good enough. We want the lot or the deal’s off.’
‘Wait!’ Charlie wanted to keep the man on the phone. She needed more clues as to where they were.
‘We ain’t playing games, little girl. A million pounds. You’d better get it. Until you do, we’ve got other means of making ’im pay ’is way.’
The kidnapper hung up. Charlie looked at the phone.
‘He was using a voice distorter,’ said Granny Pam. ‘We used one in a play once. It can give you different accents, even change a male voice to a female one. I think he’d selected DARTH VADER.’
‘You can get it as an app now,’ Larry said. ‘That way you can use it on phone calls. I’m guessing he wasn’t stupid enough to leave us his number, but we might as well check.’ He picked up the phone to dial 1471. ‘No such luck. Number withheld.’
‘ “We’ve got other means of making him pay his way”,’ Charlie repeated. ‘What does that mean?’
‘They could race him illegally,’ Larry suggested. ‘If no one knew who he was, the kidnappers could win a load of money.’
‘That’s if they can make him gallop,’ said Harry.
‘Yeah, but they don’t know how difficult that’s going to be,’ Larry replied. ‘All they know is that they’ve got the Derby winner and they assume he can beat anything.’
‘Let’s look at the evidence,’ said Charlie. ‘The kidnappers might have a connection with Essex. And they might be planning to race Noddy illegally. But how can we be sure?’
Granny Pam shot to her feet. ‘I’ve got it! You know, my darling, that I have contacts ALL over the country? It’s what comes of being on tour for most of my life. I’ve been to every THEE-AH-TER up and down the land and made friends at all of them. Well, one of my very BEST friends lives in Essex – in Chelmsford, in fact. She played Letitia Blacklock to my Miss Marple. Her stage name was Kate Bennett, but we all call her Kitty Poo. She’s our “woman on the ground” – we can ask her if there’s been anything in the local news about illegal horse racing.’
Granny Pam seized the phone and stabbed at the buttons.
‘It’s ringing,’ she whispered conspiratorially. Then she shrieked, ‘Kitty Poo, DARLING! It’s Pam. Yes, that was Caroline on BBC Breakfast this morning. Wonderful, wasn’t she? An absolute natural! Must get her performance skills from me. Ha ha ha! Oh, and by the way, she says Mike Morgan is an absolute DISH in real life. Who knew?’
‘Granny!’ hissed Charlie. ‘Ask her about the illegal racing.’
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ said Granny Pam. ‘Listen, Kitty Poo, we’ve got a bit of a situation here. Charlie’s horse has been KIDNAPPED. No, not the pony, the racehorse. Yes, the one who won the DERBY. Look, we think that he might have been taken to Essex, and that the thieves could be planning to race him illegally. Does that SORT OF THING go on down your way?’
Granny Pam paused as she listened.
‘Is that so?’ she said. ‘And where exactly is that?’
She whipped a notepad from under her cape and scribbled furiously.
‘Wonderful, darling. You’re a love. Catch up soon and THANK YOU!’
Granny Pam hung up and turned to Charlie.
‘You won’t believe this. Kitty Poo says that there was an article in the paper this week about an illegal trap race held every year near Corringham, on the way to Southend-on-Sea. Apparently, it’s a BIG DEAL – the winning horse and driver can make a fortune!’
‘That’s it!’ Charlie wanted to dance on the spot she was so excited. ‘At the Open Day the kidnappers asked me and Joe if Noddy had ever pulled a cart or a trap! Your friend Kitty has given us the biggest clue of all – now we know where to look!’
Charlie kissed Granny Pam on the cheek. Suddenly she felt as if they were no longer blundering around in the dark. It finally made sense. The kidnappers wanted the ransom money, but, if they couldn’t get that, they had a Plan B, which was to win money with Noddy at illegal race meetings. But their greed had been their own undoing, providing the clue that would lead Charlie to Noble Warrior – and justice for Polly.
‘We don’t have any time to waste,’ Charlie said. ‘Essex is a long way away. Who’s coming?’
Granny Pam was the first to wave her hand in the air. ‘I am, naturally. I had a strong fan base in East Anglia, back in the day. I remember a sell-out run at the Mercury Theatre in Colchester. Must’ve been the early seventies. I was young and free and very much FOOTLOOSE.’ Granny Pam started tap-dancing, as if to emphasize the point.
Caroline looked embarrassed. ‘Mum, now is not the time for a dance number. I’m happy to drive, but someone needs to stay here to be on hand in case the police come back again.’
‘I’ll stay,’ said Bill. ‘The cows will need milking and I can talk to the vet when she comes back to check on Percy. Joe’s with him now. I’ll go and tell him what’s happening.’
‘I think Joe will have to come with us,’ said Charlie. ‘If we do find Noddy, we might need to get him out in a hurry and, if that means riding him, Joe’s the only one who can do that.’
Harry and Larry were both keen to come, but started fighting about which one would be more useful.
‘I’ve got karate moves,’ said Harry, aiming a kick directly at Larry’s head.
‘Yeah, well, I’ve got a cracking right hook,’ replied Larry, swinging his fist at Harry’s chin. His brother leaned back just in time so that the blow glanced off.
‘Boys!’ shouted Caroline. ‘Neither of you will be coming if you behave like that. This is a rescue mission, not a prize fight.’
Like puppies who had been told off, the boys lowered their heads. If they’d had tails, they would have been between their legs. For the first time that day, Charlie felt sorry for them.
‘Well, you have worked hard trying to track down the cattle truck,’ she said. ‘And you did make the connection between the baseball cap and Essex. And we could need your karate and boxing skills, but it might be an idea to save your moves for the kidnappers.’
Joe came in from the barn.
‘Percy’s nearly back to his old self,’ he said with a smile. ‘He’s getting hungry and he keeps whinnying for Noddy, which is a good sign. Your dad says he’ll keep an eye on him until the vet comes back this evening. He said you wanted to see me?’
Charlie explained how they had worked out where Noble Warrior might be.
‘Great sleuthing skills,’ said Joe admiringly. ‘What do the police think?’
Charlie made a face. ‘We haven’t told them. They want us to stay put and do nothing, but I can’t. I’m sure he’s there, but the police will only say there’s no hard evidence. We have to find Noddy ourselves. When we’ve done that, we can call them.’
‘In that case,’ said Joe, ‘what are we waiting for?’
Chapter 9
Caroline climbed behind the wheel of her new people carrier. After the Derby win, she had talked about getting a Jaguar XKR, but had settled for the more practical option. Right now, that seemed like a good decision. Granny Pam slid into the passenger seat while Harry, Larry, Charlie and Joe got in the back. Boris hopped in with them and started barking, as if to tell them he was ready for departure.
‘Which way?’ asked Caroline, when they got t
o the bottom of the drive.
‘Left!’ Harry shouted.
‘Right!’ Larry yelled.
‘Shut up!’ snarled Harry, putting Larry in a headlock. ‘Google Maps says the quickest way is to go left, then head for the A303 and up to the M3.’
‘Yeah, well, the TomTom says go right, down to the M27 and then up the A31 and the A3,’ retorted Larry, jabbing Harry in the kidneys.
Charlie sighed and looked up from the road map. ‘It’s a left and then a right and cut across to the A354 up to Salisbury. That’ll take us to the A30, through Stockbridge and on to the M3.’
‘Thank you,’ said Caroline. ‘A bit of calm direction under pressure. Just like Kate Richardson-Walsh in the Olympic hockey final. You boys can go all Maddie Hinch when we get there, and terrify the pants off those horrible men, but right now we need a bit of Captain Kate. Well done, Charlie.’
The journey took forever. The 50mph speed limit through the roadworks on the M3 didn’t help and the traffic on the M25 was nose to tail. Charlie bit her nails absent-mindedly and kept looking at her watch. It would be nearly dark by the time they got to Essex, and they still had to work out exactly where and when the race meeting was happening. If it was illegal, it would hardly be advertised in the local paper.
Charlie shut her eyes and she must have nodded off for a while because, when she woke up, it was pitch-black.
‘Is it dark already?’
‘Not yet, sweetheart,’ her mother replied. ‘We’re in a tunnel. We’ll be out in a minute and then it’s only about another half an hour to Corringham. We should be there by eight o’clock. I reckon we should stop for a bite to eat first, though.’
As much as Charlie didn’t want to stop, she knew her mum was right. The search for Noble Warrior was only just beginning. They needed to keep their strength up.
Caroline followed the signs for Thurrock (Lakeside) and drove into the biggest shopping complex Charlie had ever seen. There was a grey tower with signs for all the different shops – you could buy clothes, toys, furniture, food, sports gear, carpets, computers, coffee or sandwiches.
‘We should’ve come here with our Derby winnings,’ said Harry. ‘Think of all the extra computer gear we could’ve got.’
‘I’d have bought a new cricket bat and pads,’ said Larry, pointing at a massive sports shop.
‘You don’t play cricket,’ his brother observed.
‘Yeah, but that’s only because I haven’t got any of the kit,’ argued Larry. ‘If I did, I’d be better than Ben Stokes!’
‘Never mind that,’ said Charlie. ‘I’m starving. We need food and we need Wi-Fi so you can get on that iPad of yours and see if you can find out any more about Corringham. That’s where Granny’s friend said the races happen.’
Caroline drove towards the first restaurant she could find and pulled up close to the entrance.
‘I’d forgotten how much I hate the M25,’ she said, as she got out of the car.
‘Darling, you should have said,’ exclaimed Granny Pam, who was already walking towards the restaurant, her cape billowing behind her. ‘I had a walk-out with James Hunt many years ago. He taught me everything he knew. I’d have been ducking and diving between those lanes like an ELECTRIC EEL!’
‘Who’s James Hunt?’ asked Charlie, running to catch up while Boris had a pee against a lamp post.
‘Oh, he was a dashing man. The most naturally talented racing driver you’ve ever seen.’ Granny Pam sighed. ‘He was quite smitten with me, you know, but I had my career and he had his. It wasn’t to be … Now, remember, we’re travelling UNDERCOVER – we don’t want the kidnappers to know that we’re coming. Leave the talking to me.’
Granny Pam swung the front of her cape across her face as she went inside and hurried over to a waitress, grabbing a menu en route.
‘We need a table in the corner where no one can see us.’ She pointed at the menu as she issued her order. ‘Three of your special pizzas, three of those pastas and a bottle of water. Fast as you can, my girl!’
The waitress looked at Charlie and down at Boris.
‘I’m sorry, no dogs.’
Granny Pam stepped between them.
‘Don’t touch the dog,’ she said in a low voice. ‘He has to be by her side at all times. Assistance dog, you see. Essential and LETHAL.’
‘Lethal?’ exclaimed the waitress in alarm.
‘Not lethal,’ interrupted Charlie, thinking quickly. ‘Legal. He’s a legally registered assistance dog.’
The waitress didn’t seem all that convinced, but still led them towards a table in the corner.
Charlie looked quizzically at her mother.
‘Don’t pay any attention,’ said Caroline. ‘Mum used to do this all the time when I was young and it was excruciatingly embarrassing. It’s best to ignore her until she comes to her senses.’
Harry and Larry fell through the door behind Joe, pushing and shoving each other as they crossed the restaurant floor. Caroline sat them on opposite sides of the table so they had to stop fighting. Larry aimed a final kick at Harry, but his leg couldn’t quite reach.
‘Can you get on the Wi-Fi, Larry?’ asked Charlie, trying to distract him. ‘See what you can find about illegal racing nearby.’
Larry tapped his finger on the screen.
‘Wow!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s come up with loads of results straight away. This forum looks interesting …’
He slid the iPad over to Charlie so that she could see what he had found.
‘ “Calling all racers,” ’ read Charlie. ‘ “Gather ye at the Manor Way for a feast fit for a king.” Then there are some numbers. What does it mean?’
‘Could be a code,’ said Granny Pam, putting her monocle to her eye. ‘Let me see.’ She grabbed the iPad and stared at the screen. ‘See the insignia in the corner, Watson? The CHARIOT!’
‘It’s Charlie, Granny Pam. Who’s Watson?’
Granny Pam shook her head. ‘Sorry, got carried away for a moment there. Back in the present, stay in the present. LOOK OUT! Interloper approaching!’
‘Mother, stop being so dramatic. It’s just the waitress.’ Caroline smiled at the poor girl, who was clearly sweating. She put the pizzas and pasta down quickly, looking nervously under the table at Boris, and hurried back to the kitchen.
‘That’s what I’m talking about,’ beamed Harry, slurping up a forkful of spaghetti bolognese. Across the table, Larry shoved half a pizza into his mouth in one go.
Joe eyed the food warily.
‘Is everything OK, Joe?’ asked Caroline.
‘Sorry, I don’t mean to be fussy. It looks a bit … heavy, that’s all.’
‘We’re carb-loading,’ Granny Pam snapped back. ‘You’ll need ALL the energy you can get for tonight.’
‘Oh, how silly of me,’ said Caroline. ‘I know you’re keeping an eye on your racing weight.’ She waved the waitress over. ‘Could we have a green salad as well, please, and two more of those pizzas? Thank you.’
The waitress ran away again.
‘I’ve cracked it!’ declared Granny Pam, putting the iPad down. ‘The numbers are a grid reference and this is the date. It’s today!’
Granny Pam handed the iPad back to Larry and he copied the grid reference on to another site as the waitress reappeared with the extra food.
‘It looks as if they’re meeting in Springhouse Lane,’ said Larry. ‘It’s just off the dual carriageway near Corringham. King of the Road is what they call the meeting that they hold every year. Weird name for a horse race.’
The waitress gasped.
‘What is it?’ asked Charlie.
‘King of the Road – is that what you said?’ replied the waitress.
‘Yes, what of it?’ Granny Pam shot back.
‘Granny,’ said Charlie sharply. ‘No need to be rude.’
‘Please,’ Caroline said gently, ‘do go on.’
‘It’s only that it’s quite rough,’ the waitress said.
‘What do
you mean, “rough”?’ Caroline asked.
‘Well, the police, they’re always trying to get it stopped, but they can’t. The men who run it ain’t scared of no one. Don’t matter to them if they cause an accident or if them ’orses get ’urt. They don’t care. They just wanna win the money. There’s a big pot, you see, for the ’orse that wins.’
‘What do you mean, “cause an accident”?’ asked Charlie.
The waitress grimaced. ‘They start with knockout rounds in the field next to Springhouse Lane, just off the dual carriageway. I saw it once, but it made me feel really sad, the way they battered those poor ’orses. They make ’em gallop flat out, pulling a little carriage behind ’em, and then the four fastest ones are lined up on the dual carriageway and they race ’em till they drop. The last one left standing is the winner. It’s brutal.’
Charlie gasped in horror. It was even worse than she’d thought.
‘What about the cars? How do they stop the traffic?’ she asked.
‘Sometimes they use a coupla cars or vans to go slow and stop other cars getting past so the ’orses ’ave a clear run, but sometimes they don’t bother and the ’orses just have to go through the traffic. The blokes that organize it, they don’t care.’ The waitress shook her head, as she backed away from the table. ‘Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying.’
Charlie looked around the table. Joe was as white as a sheet. Caroline was chewing the insides of her cheek. Granny Pam had her head bowed. Even Harry and Larry had fallen silent. None of them could understand how people could treat horses so cruelly.
Charlie swallowed hard. ‘If what she says is true, there’s no time to lose: we’ve got to save Noddy before they start the racing. His legs will never stand galloping on a road. It could ruin him forever.’
Everyone nodded. They knew how much was at stake.
‘Ve shall heff to be clever and clandestine,’ Granny Pam said, in a strange accent.
‘Clandestine?’ Charlie didn’t understand.
‘Stealthy, secretive, crafty,’ Caroline explained. ‘And, if that’s the case, Mother, you can’t go dressed like that. You’ll stand out a mile. Besides, you’ve got bolognese all over the cape.’
The Racehorse Who Disappeared Page 7