by Joe McNally
‘How was your trip up north? I meant to call you the other day, then all this crap broke,’
‘It was a kind of happy sad trip. I went back to the farm.’
‘Your farm?’
Kim nodded. ‘Mine. My mum and dad’s, but mine now, I suppose. It still hasn’t been sold.’
‘I’m surprised. That’s been a while now, hasn’t it?’
‘The lawyer sent a letter last month. It’s been nearly sold twice, now, then everything fell through at the last minute.’
‘It’ll sell in time, Kim. And the money’s going into trust for you anyway, isn’t it?’
‘I’m not bothered about the money, Eddie. I’m glad in a way that nobody else is living there. I never knew anywhere else. It was my whole life, and my whole world, and…well, it’s hard to explain.’
‘I know.’
‘Marie showed me the house where Rory used to live, my biological dad. That’s an awful cold way of describing somebody who’s so important, isn’t it? Biological.’
Eddie smiled. ‘I suppose it is.’
Kim had lost his adoptive father in an accident on a fierce winter day in the Lakeland hills. Until his death, Kim hadn’t known he was adopted. His adoptive mother had died of cancer when Kim was six.
Kim said, ‘I mean, they could have come up with something more, well more…something not so much like a science, like it was all an experiment and nothing meant much. I’d like to say real dad but that hurts my memory of dad, and of mum too.
‘Marie showed me the places they used to walk, and swim, and sit, and laugh. It was like being with someone my own age, listening to her. It took her right back to her teenage years, and it made me realize that Rory was no different from me. Everything was probably going great in his life then wham, “You can’t see your girlfriend ever again. You can’t go back to Kyrtlebank. If you’re seen on our land again, you’ll go to jail.”‘
‘Yep. That sounds like my father, all right. Marie told me she didn’t think Rory ever knew about you. She hadn’t realized she was pregnant, but mother suspected something. Suddenly she’s locked up at Kyrtlebank, removed from school and from life. You’re dead right. Everything can change in an instant.’
‘But I suppose you can’t stay a child all your life.’
‘Unfortunate for many, I suppose, that you can’t. Though not for me.’
Kim looked across at him. ‘I’m sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean anything by that.’
‘Hey! I know you didn’t. Don’t worry. It must have been an emotional couple of days. It’ll be on your mind for a while.’
‘I suppose.’
They were quiet for a minute, the sounds of hooves filling the silence, then Eddie said, ‘Did Marie talk about trying to find Rory?’
‘I think Marie was…well, it was always at the front of her mind. But she seems afraid that he might have changed, or that he won’t recognize her. Or maybe that he would reject me. My guess would be that she’s already been digging around online. She said she’d heard he was a shepherd on one of the big hill farms now. And she seems certain he’ll be married and settled, so that’s another thing putting her off.’
‘It’s a tough one. How do you feel?’
‘About finding him? I’d like to. My adoptive dad will always be my dad to me, but I’d like to meet Rory.’
‘Well, let’s see what we can do about it,’ Eddie said.
‘I’d like to see what he looks like, Rory. Some of the kids at school say I’m like you.’
‘You’ve definitely got the Malloy look about you. Whether that’s a curse or a blessing, I don’t know.’
Kim smiled. Eddie said, ‘At least you’re scar free. For now. The jockey’s life will soon fix that.’
‘I can’t wait.’
After dinner with Kim and Marie, Eddie reckoned Mave would be awake by now, and he walked out alone to the end of the barn and called her.
‘They haven’t locked you up yet, then?’
Eddie told her what Lisle had proposed.
She said, ‘Most crimes are solved by snitches. Or by police with snitches, I should say. Throw in Lisle’s background, and I guess you wouldn’t have been surprised.’
‘I was. Bad as the BHA can be at times, they’re racing folk and they know better than to ask a jockey to do anything like that.’
‘Lisle’s not a racing man, though. Nor is Buley.’
‘True.’
‘What will they do tomorrow?’
‘Suspend me, pending a full inquiry, I’d have thought. For PR reasons, if nothing else.’
‘Can’t be for PR or Lisle wouldn’t have offered you that deal.’
‘They can’t not suspend me, deal or no deal. They’d just have made the suspension shorter and found me not guilty at the end.’
‘Well, at least Lisle doesn’t think there’s much to it if he’s happy to trade with you to get those three.’
‘A sprat to catch a mackerel?’
‘Well, I’d have left of the s at the start.’
‘Very funny, Maven.’
‘I like to help keep your spirit up. How’s Kim?’
‘He’s fine. He made a good point about Saroyan. I’ll tell you tomorrow.’
‘Good night.’
31
Eddie signed in at the BHA office reception and pinned his ID badge to his lapel. ‘Please take a seat, Mister Malloy. Someone will be down soon.’
‘Thanks. I’ll stand.’
Eddie watched this central London street through the big glass doors, amused, as he always was, by the twenty five percent speed increase of life here compared with small towns like Lambourn. Everyone was going somewhere. Even the pigeons walked with purpose.
The one thing missing was a bunch of press men. Any jockey facing a disciplinary hearing in a case like this could expect to be deafened by camera-clicks and shouted questions on the way into the building. Eddie hadn’t even bothered checking online for the details of the disciplinary hearing. He took it as read that it would have been announced in a press release in the normal fashion.
Eddie heard the elevator ping and saw Lisle’s reflection as he came toward him. Eddie turned. Lisle smiled. Pin-stripe suit, hard-eyed today despite the smile and the reaching hand. He small-talked Eddie up three floors and into a high-windowed office.
‘Drink?’
‘No thanks.’
Lisle sat. No cozy strolling twosome this time, Eddie thought. A glass-topped table separated them. No notebooks. No recording equipment that Eddie could see. No disciplinary panel. Eddie watched him. Lisle opened his hands and smiled. ‘I spoke at length to Nic Buley last night about the threat of acting too quickly here.’
Eddie nodded, resisting the urge to add "like you did in the case you just lost".
‘But we need to retain the faith of the betting public.’
Again, Eddie bit his tongue.
‘We can’t take any formal proceedings until we’ve interviewed Mister Saroyan.’
‘Saroyan’s a thief and a liar. He’s an alcoholic drifter who could be dead in a ditch somewhere.’
‘Why do you say that?’
Eddie told him about Saroyan’s Cane Toad Project in Australia. ‘He could be lying shrivelled in the outback. Nobody’s seen him for months.’
‘You seem pretty confident he won’t be turning up any time soon, Mister Malloy.’
‘He could walk in here tomorrow, for all I know. If you’re suggesting I had something to do with his disappearance, at least be straight about it.’
Lisle bit down, flexing his jaw muscles.
‘Look, Mister Lisle, I’ve no doubt you know more about Saroyan now than I do. In any line of unreliable witnesses, he’d be close to the front.’
‘Then all we’re left with is the balance of probability, and the scales are not in your favour, Mister Malloy.’
Without using their names, Eddie told him about Mave’s betting records, and her screen recordings with Nina Raine and about Sonny
volunteering to testify that Eddie had not been involved in the tipping or betting. ‘My friend has agreed to let you see the programme running live.’ Eddie outlined the rest of the conditions.
‘Why didn’t you mention this yesterday?’ Lisle asked.
‘Because I want my friends kept out of this, if possible. That betting programme is worth a fortune, and the person who wrote it will be a sitting target. But that person is willing to take a chance for my sake.’
‘But you wouldn’t be willing to put your friend in danger.’
‘There are ways and means.’
He shook his head. ‘Eddie, why don’t you just do this the easy way and help us get these villains out of racing. Blackaby, Sampson and Kellagher don’t care about you or your colleagues or anyone else. They’re poisoning your sport. Your sport.’
‘You’re asking me to do your job, Mister Lisle. You want me to make up for your failure.’
The jaw muscles went again, and his eyes sparked. But he cooled quickly and smiled. ‘I don’t do failure, Mister Malloy.’
‘Well, there’s somebody who looks a lot like you doing a damned good impression, Mister Lisle.’
Lisle chuckled, and Eddie believed he was not being sarcastic. He seemed genuinely amused. ‘Wait here, please.’ He got up.
‘Why don’t you just bring Buley back in with you?’ Eddie said.
No answer. Eddie knew Buley was staying clear because he’d want to push all the blame for this onto Lisle.
Buley was waiting for Lisle who knew that part of Buley’s intention with this to-ing and fro-ing was to keep himself out of it. The other part was to make Lisle feel like a message-boy. Buley watched through the glass as Lisle approached, and he signalled him to come straight in.
Lisle told him of Eddie’s proposal.
‘His friend will demonstrate this betting system?’
‘Live. There will also be recordings of previous sessions showing the system making a selection. Miss Raine witnessed those, and indeed took advantage of them.’
‘So says Malloy.’
‘I’ve no reason to doubt him.’
‘You’ve no reason to believe him either.’
‘Well, we will soon see. He and his friend either demonstrate their case effectively, or they do not. We needn’t waive any sanctions.’
‘We won’t be waiving any sanctions, Mister Lisle, whatever Malloy offers.’
‘I think it will prove worthwhile seeing what they have. If there is indeed a fool proof system out there for picking winners, it’s best that we not only know about it, but that we know it is in safe hands.’
‘And how do you think the press are going to view that? What spin will they put on the BHA effectively signing off punishment against some betting software?’
‘The press won’t be saying anything, because the system owner won’t demonstrate it without the BHA signing a watertight non-disclosure agreement.’
Buley folded his arms on the desk. ‘Let me get this right, we pull Malloy in to try and get him onside against those three, and he sets out demands and conditions?’
Lisle’s patience was wearing thin, but he composed himself, as always and said, ‘I’ll tell him no, then, shall I, and we can instigate formal proceedings against him?’
Buley drummed on the table, watching Lisle coldly. ‘Tell him to give us sight of this supposed watertight agreement. We can work that way too and get them to sign one, so that if our gullibility ever jumps up to bite us in the arse, we’ll have some protection too.’
‘So you’re willing to do a deal?’
Buley sat back, arms behind his head. ‘Tell Malloy the best he gets is that he shows us this system, identifies his friend who owns it and they both sign our NDA. If they do indeed have what they say, then all it buys him is the time it takes for him to round up what sounds like a sorry bunch of witnesses from wherever they are in the world. If I’m not satisfied that all his so-called evidence merits a lesser punishment, tell him he’ll be warned off for life.’
Lisle nodded.
The room in which Eddie sat grew warmer, triggering the aircon just before Lisle returned alone. Eddie didn’t bother trying to read his face. Buley sat down and put a notepad on the table. ‘We need to meet your friend with the betting programme. If we’re convinced by the evidence, you keep your licence.’
‘No strings attached?’
‘None.’
‘No conditions that I spy on jockeys or talk about anything that happens in the changing room?’
‘You have my word. If everything you’ve said is true, there is no case for you to answer.’
‘I’m happy to take your word, Mister Lisle, but with all due respect, Mister Buley calls the shots.’
‘Mister Buley will be guided by me on the best way forward. I don’t anticipate any problems on that side.’
Eddie looked at him and smiled slowly. ‘You, are a very cool dude, Mister Lisle.’
Lisle smiled.
On the street, Eddie saw a payphone across from Starbucks, but resisted the urge to call Mave. Eddie wanted to think this over on the drive home. She’d be gung-ho for a meeting with the BHA now that she planned to ditch the betting. But that didn’t make the programme any less valuable, or her any less vulnerable.
Eddie texted Marie and Kim to let them know his licence was still intact and that he’d call on the landline later. He set off for Lambourn with visions of his peaceful house in the valley away from these crazy city streets.
Eddie stopped off at Mac’s place. It was early afternoon, cool, and topped by a long fold of grey cloud hanging low over the valley. As Eddie walked along the path, Mac yelled over the roof: ‘I’m round the back.’
He sat in the cast iron chair wearing a thick black fleece and brown corduroy trousers. ‘Oh, brown with black, Mister McCarthy. The fashion police will be here shortly.’
‘They gave up on me long ago, Eddie.’
‘Late in the season for bee-gazing.’ Eddie sat on the other chair.
‘I’m watching the flowers die.’
‘Jeez, you’re a bundle of fun.’
‘How did it go at High Holborn? I saw online that Buley said they’d be making a statement later today.’
‘Well, I’ve still got my licence.’
‘What did Lisle say?’
Eddie told him what had happened.
‘Well either Buley has changed his spots, or he has plans to try somehow to confiscate your programme, doubtless for his own use.’
‘We’d thought of that. Without my friend’s input, for every running of the programme, it won’t work.’
‘Then…oh, it doesn’t matter.’
‘No, what were you going to say?’
‘I was going to begin a lesson in teaching my grandmother to suck eggs. Forgive me. I was about to tell you how much protection your friend would need. I should have known better than even letting that cross my mind.’
‘It’s appreciated all the same, Mac. We’ll be taking no risks.’
‘Well, I hope Mister Lisle’s confidence bears fruit. I’d have bet all Lombard Street to a china orange that Buley’s sole plan was to shift all the blame for the Old Bailey fiasco to Lisle, and get rid of him. Maybe he’s not as smart as I thought.’
‘He’s not smart, Mac, he’s cunning. He’s wily. He’s devious.’
‘The Vicar of Bray.’
‘You’ve got me there.’
‘A man who changes his principles as often as necessary to remain in office.’
‘They teach you that at Eton?’
‘I believe they did, now you mention it.’ Mac looked up at the darkening clouds and held out a hand. ‘You feel some rain there?’
‘No. But then again, you’re a much bigger target than me.’
He smiled at that. ‘Want some coffee?’
‘Please.’
They moved to the kitchen and sat at the table. Eddie nodded toward the row of houseplants on the windowsill. ‘You didn’t need to
go outside to watch the flowers die. You’d better get them watered.’
Mac used the kettle he’d just filled and ran it along the plant line as he spoke. ‘If I can offer you some advice on the practical front, your best bet with Buley is to formalize everything in advance of the meeting. Get a good lawyer to draw up that non-disclosure agreement. Make sure Buley signs it rather than Lisle. Tell them the lawyer has to be present at the meeting.’
‘Should I build into the agreement that they’ll take no action against me after they’ve seen the programme at work? That’s pretty much what Lisle promised me.’
‘You can try it, but it would be a pretty public declaration that you don’t trust Lisle’s word.’
‘True.’
‘Do you trust him? Do you think it was his TV persona making those promises to you today?’
‘If it was, he’s bloody convincing. He told me the first time we met that he "doesn’t do failure".’
‘I liked him too. Perhaps it’s time to trust him and see what happens?’
Eddie nodded, then looked up at Mac. ‘Lisle’s worst has got to be miles better than Buley’s best, hasn’t it?’
‘Let’s hope so, Eddie. For everyone’s sake.’
32
Mave hired the best barrister in the country, Rupert Kingsley. When she told him what it was for, Kingsley said, ‘Forgive me, but that is akin to asking a brain surgeon to remove a wart.’
Mave said, ‘An apt analogy, Mister Kingsley. We wanted to make sure this particular wart does not regrow.’
Kingsley produced the agreement and attended the meeting to witness proceedings. Buley was unable to hide how impressed he was that Mave had retained the services of such a man.
When all was done, and Lisle was seeing them out, he said to Mave. ‘It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Miss Judge. Mister Buley seemed much taken with your lawyer. I suspect you have heard the story of John Travolta on set?’
‘Can’t say I have, Mister Lisle.’
‘Ahh, you must have a natural aptitude for such things, then. Remind me sometime to tell you the Travolta story.’
I’ll look forward to it.’