by Joe McNally
But, like Stevedore, Dil had gone already, ‘It’s okay for you to say don’t panic! I’ve got a yardful of horses I can’t run anywhere because of this fucker!’
Vita seemed to luxuriate in her own calmness, ‘A quarter of that yardful belongs to me.’
Dil glared at her, ‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning, Dylan, that I’m paying the price as much as you are. I’m taking the hits too. If it’s you they’re after, I’m paying for the collateral damage.’
Dil stood up, gripping the table edges, ‘Then take them away! Move them! At least I’ll be able to sleep at night…on my own!’
She’d stayed calm until his final three words made her wince. Ben looked away, out into the deepening dark.
I watched them both, betting mentally that Dil would start back-tracking very soon.
I called it wrong. He left, although his theatrical exit did not go to plan. He tried slamming the door behind him, not realizing it was set on a heavy spring to help catering staff. He stormed out and the softly closing door mocked him for ten seconds before quietly clasping to its lock.
Vita turned slowly to look at me, her eyebrows rising. I held her gaze then raised my eyebrows too, and she laughed.
She said, ‘I'm guessing it’s not the first time you’ve seen Dil’s tantrums?’
I said, ‘And I’m guessing it’s the first time you’ve seen one in public?’
‘He’s fraught, poor dear.’
I had plenty of reasons to complain about Dil, but I wouldn’t give Vita the satisfaction of teaming up with her against him. Especially now I knew that this was a game for her. Stevedore, didn’t matter much. Winning races meant little. Manipulating people was what drove Vita Brodie.
She turned to Ben, ‘What do you think, Ben?’
‘About what, Ms. Brodie?’
‘Oh stop calling me Ms. Brodie, will you? Ms. Brodie! Mizzy Brodie! You’re a step away from a southern black on a plantation.’
‘I think my Scouse accent will save me from any miscasting there. At least on this side of the Atlantic.’
Her jaw clenched.
‘What do you like to be called?’ Ben asked.
’Vita. I told you that before…Vita!’
Ben slowly pulled a notebook from inside his jacket, carefully opened it and searched for an empty page, which he smoothed out, then clicked his pen and wrote “Vita”. He closed it and unhurriedly put it away. ‘Got it,’ he said.
It was rude of me, but I smiled. Vita got up, ‘Excuse me,’ she said, and left, remembering not to slam the door.
Ben and I smiled at each other. Affecting the accent, he said, ‘Mizzy Brodie, she gone. She gone to Cry me a River, an Ol’ Man River!’
I laughed and slapped his shoulder. It was dark now, and we could see our reflections in the glass. Ben said, ‘What are we laughing at? It looks like I’m unemployed and it looks like somebody’s trying to kill you.’
‘Well, Ben, you might be in trouble, but the odd thing, the very odd thing is that someone is actually trying to keep me alive.’
30
I parked by the end of the farmhouse and walked toward the lamp burning in the window. It didn’t register until she raised a pale hand in welcome that Mave was there too.
I closed the door on the outer dark and dropped my kit bag in the short hallway. I smiled at Mave, ‘Waiting for someone?’
‘Cowboy Joe,’ she said, ‘that looked like a rodeo act when he stopped so suddenly. Not your most dignified moment.’
‘I’ll take survival over dignity any day.’
‘Do you think this is anything to do with us stalking Vogel so closely online in the past twenty-four hours?’
I leaned back against the windowsill and crossed my arms, ’Well, is there any way that he could have found out you and Ben have been stalking him, as you put it?’
‘If he’s smart enough.’
‘But if he was smart enough, surely you wouldn’t have been able to track him in the first place?’
‘Unless he wanted us to.’
‘Why would he want us to?’
Mave crossed her arms too, and tilted her head sideways, mimicking me, ‘Damned if I know, Edward, but it all seems a bit too coincidental, and I saw him adjusting your girth today. Is that a first?’
’Since this caper started, yes, it is.’
‘And, if it had been for money, the favourite would have been the sensible target, so why you, again?’
‘Well, whoever it is, they don’t want to hurt me.’
She laughed, ‘You’ll convince yourself of anything.’
‘No. Tell me, what was different about today?’
My phone rang. It was Mac. ‘Mac, can I call you in five minutes?’
‘Please do.’
I switched off my phone, and watched Mave. She said, ‘The horse stopped and you were still on it?’
‘Exactly. He stopped because whoever set him going, stopped him as soon as he’d disqualified himself by running out.’
Mave moved to stand beside me. She put a hand on my shoulder and said, ‘I’m listening.’
I said, ‘The first time was some kind of experiment. Montego Moon galloped until she ran into a fence. The second time Spalpeen was steered around the jump. At Uttoxeter, Kingdom Come pulled himself up on the bend after unseating me. Today Stevedore was stopped as soon as the money was landed.’ I pointed at my phone, ‘That was Mac. I’ll bet you now that he was calling to tell me Stevedore was laid on the exchanges.’
Mave said, ’Ring him back.’
I did. ‘Mac, sorry about that. What can I do for you?’
‘The boss would like to see you at Aintree at nine tomorrow morning. The chief constable of Merseyside will be with him.’
‘What boss? What’s it about?’
‘Nigel Steel, and what do you think it’s about?’
‘Okay, I can understand Steel, but whose idea was it to rope in the chief constable?’
‘It seems it was the chief constable’s idea to rope himself in’
‘Why?’
‘Well, we will find out tomorrow.’
‘Mac, to use an old cliché, I don’t like the smell of this. Okay, it’s criminal, whatever’s going on, but routine criminal, surely, not chief constable criminal.’
‘I can’t disagree, Eddie. Fascinating, isn’t it?’
‘For you, maybe. I could do without it.’
‘Well, you’re in the clear, we both know that, so don’t worry about it.’
‘Will you be there?’
‘Yes. I’ll meet you in the car park and take you up to the chairman’s box.’
‘What time?’
‘Quarter to, for nine?’
‘Okay. Listen, was Stevedore laid today on the exchanges?’
‘Yes, but don’t mention it to anyone.’
‘How much did they get?’
‘Seventy-eight grand.’
‘They could have doubled that, maybe tripled it by stopping the favourite.’
‘Indeed.’
‘Mac, that was a loaded “indeed”. It was one of your “don’t I know it indeeds”. Are you sure I won’t need a lawyer tomorrow?’
‘All you’ll need is a pleasant smile and a well restrained temper.’
’Should I wear a cap, too, so I can doff it, then stare at my shoes?’
‘Now don’t start winding yourself up! I’m ending this call now. I think I make you worse at times like these.’
‘Mac!’
’Good night, Eddie.’
31
I only had one ride booked at Aintree on this Friday, and nine o’clock was way too early to be arriving for it. But it was a fine morning, mistless, and promising warmth, and the drive through the valleys of the Lake District then south on a quiet M6 had been pleasant.
My dealings with the police had seldom been peaceful. Most cops I met had already judged me, based on the time I’d spent in prison many years ago for beating up the man who’d cost me my
riding licence and a career at the top.
In the early days, I’d been angrily anxious to explain to the police that my assault on Kruger was justified. But, when the tenth pair of eyes glazed over, I gave it up.
Mac met me in the car park. I knew how anxious he was when I saw that he was already out of his car and on his big flat feet when I drove in. Mac preferred sitting. I’d never known him to wait standing up.
I took my kitbag from the back seat as he walked toward me. He called, ‘Just leave that, Eddie. You’ll have plenty time to come back for it.’
I left it, and locked up, and we walked toward the grandstands. Mac said, ‘I’ve been thinking about this, it’s probably just box-ticking. Grand National meeting, plenty of press attention, an unusual betting fraud takes place on Chief Constable Bradley’s patch, and he wants to be seen to be taking it seriously. So long as he can make the claim that he’s spoken personally to the jockey who’s been most affected by these incidents, then he’ll be happy with that.’
‘What about the trainer most affected?’
‘Well, I suppose they’ll take a view on that after they’ve spoken to you.’
I stopped. Mac took two more strides before he turned, ‘What is it?’
‘I’m not having it, Mac.’
He looked at his watch. ‘Not having what, Eddie? For God’s sake it’s ten to bloody nine!’
‘Dil Grant’s horses were involved in these ‘incidents’, as you call them. I just happened to be riding them. The horses were got at, not me. The horses are trained by Dil, not by me.’
’Eddie, it’s just a bloody PR exercise! Come on!’
‘It’s a PR exercise until a reporter asks if Dil has been interviewed. Then it becomes a witch hunt. And the silhouette on the broomstick against the moon bears a striking resemblance to me.’
Mac’s eyes were bugging. He looked at his watch then inclined his wrist toward my face, ‘Look at the time!’
‘It’s upside down.’
He grabbed my arm and dragged me, ‘Eddie, you owe me so many favours you won’t live long enough to repay them. Now, please, for God’s sake, just let me deliver you on time!’
I stumbled forward, ‘Deliver me? Well, that says it all, Mac, that says it all.’
But, he was right. I owed him plenty. And he was my friend.
Nigel Steel was a recent appointment by the BHA. I hadn’t met him before, but had heard he was a decent but careful man who tried to get on with everyone. He rose as we entered, and came forward, smiling, hand out, ‘Mister McCarthy, nice to see you. And so good to meet you at last, Mister Malloy. I’ve watched you ride a number of times, and just never have found the time so far to come and say hello,’ he clasped my hand ’so kind of you to leave home early to accommodate us.’
I was charmed. ‘My pleasure, Mister Steel.’ He walked with us to the table which lay in a wedge of sunlight from the east-facing window. The chief constable, in full uniform, stood to be introduced.
Steel said, ‘This is Chief Constable Bradley of the Merseyside police.’ Bradley didn’t beam quite so much as Steel had, but seemed pleasant enough.
Steel poured coffee for everyone, then settled down to business.
‘May I call you Eddie?’ he said.
‘Feel free.’
‘I know this is most unusual. Mister McCarthy’s department would almost always deal with these matters exclusively, but Mister McCarthy himself wisely suggested that a meeting with you might well help us in presenting the most effective possible case to the public.’
I glanced at Mac, who shifted in his seat and smiled nervously. I said, ‘Mister McCarthy’s advice has always proved interesting.’
The chief constable said, ‘You two know each other well?’
I looked at Mac, who said, ‘Mister Malloy is a veteran of the weighing room, sir.’
I smiled. Steel asked me to tell the story of each of the three races ‘in my own words’. Mac was watching my face and his eyes flared a warning not to reply ‘who else’s words would I use?’ So I told the tale of the three races.
Chief Constable Bradley scribbled the occasional note in a leather-bound book.
Steel, looking serious, hands joined, leant forward and said to me, ‘What’s your take on it, Eddie?’
Five years back I would have lunged at the lure of such flattery, but I thought it would do more harm than good to offer my opinions on blimps and bullets and theories that no harm was meant to me or to the horses. I said, ‘I’m as baffled as everyone else, Mister Steel.’
He nodded. The chief constable sat back in his chair and said, ‘I understand you have something of a reputation when it comes to situations like these?’
I watched him. He stared at me. I’d heard too many of these slanted comments by senior police officers. We both knew he was baiting me without accusing directly.
’Situations?’ I said. ‘You’ll have to explain what you mean, chief constable, just so I don’t get the wrong end of the stick.’
He crossed his arms and eased himself lower in the chair, ‘You’ve been in difficulties more than once and, from what I hear, you seem quite accomplished at resolving matters on your own.’
‘Resolving matters? Are you accusing me of something here?’
From the corner of my eye. I saw Mac bend his neck to look to the heavens.
Bradley said, ‘Not at all. Should I be?’
I glanced at Steel. He smiled, like a head teacher silently urging a student on. I said to Bradley, ‘Look, racing starts at two o’clock. How long do you want to go round in circles?’
He said, ‘Do you know a man by the name of Sydney Ember?’
‘Never heard of him. Ember as in burning ember?’
‘E-M-B-E-R.’
‘Don’t know him.’
‘He’s a very successful gambler according to all the records he shows the police when we ask how he can afford a Cheshire mansion and half a dozen cars.’
‘Well, there you go, what would I be doing knowing a big time gambler? Even if I did know him, I’d give him a wide berth.’
‘Why?’ He was easing into interrogation mode now.
I said, ‘Because any jockey that ever got into trouble with the BHA did so through knowing gamblers.’
‘A bit like you and your old friend Mister Kruger?’
He was trying to bait me into a temper. I said, ‘That was more than fifteen years ago. And Kruger was a doper. And I didn’t know him at first. I was a silly kid who got taken in too easily by Kruger’s so-called friends. Also, as Mister McCarthy can tell you, Kruger later admitted I’d had nothing to do with either doping or gambling.’
Bradley watched me, trying to outstare me. I held his gaze calmly until he spoke, ‘Do you think you might know Sydney Ember without knowing his name?’ He opened his notebook and took out a brown envelope. He handed me a six-by-four portrait shot of a man who looked to be in his late fifties. He was smiling, showing teeth which had been bought at some expense and his smile was exaggerated as though he wanted to show off every bright tooth right down to the gum. I said, ‘Looks like he’s in a gurning contest,’ and handed back the picture.
Bradley said, ‘Ever seen him on the racecourse?’
‘Not that I can remember.’
‘Are there people you see often enough on the course to know them without knowing their names?’
‘Plenty,’ I said.
‘So, wouldn’t you expect to know a man who says he’s made his living from betting for many years?’
I sighed and leant forward, ‘Why would I not tell you if I did happen to know this guy, Ember? Why would I lie?’
‘I’m just trying to work through logical progression, Mister Malloy. You’re on the racetrack most days of the week and have been for a long time. So is Sydney Ember.’
‘Well, maybe it’s Sydney Ember who is lying and not me.’
‘We’ve seen the accounts from the on-course bookmakers he uses.’
‘Look, I do
n’t know the man. What’s the problem here? Has Ember been betting in these races where the horses have bolted?’
‘We haven’t asked him that yet.’
‘Perhaps you should, then.’
‘And give him early warning?’ Bradley said.
I said, ‘Listen, I’m always happy to help the police and the BHA, but I can’t find you a link to something just to suit your theories, no matter how long you want to sit here. I don’t mean to be rude, chief constable, but at what point are you going to stop asking if I know this guy?’
‘What I’m asking now is that you make yourself aware of him.’
‘I’m aware. More than aware. What do you want me to do, call you if I see him?’
‘Well, as we touched on a few minutes ago, I believe you often find your own ways of resolving problems like this. If you happen to run into Mister Ember during your own…inquiries into these horses, maybe you could bear in mind that we’d very much like to finally get some evidence to convict Ember.’
‘Of what?’
‘Organized crime. He is a very smart operator who not only has avoided getting his hands dirty, there’s not even a speck under one of his fingernails.’
I said, ‘As clean as his teeth, then? Listen, if I come across the guy, I’ll remember what you said.’
‘I’m glad to hear that. Ember’s a dangerous man and a very clever man, who’s made millions over the past thirty years, all of it, he says, from betting. He’s based in the north, but travels around the country to racetracks and betting shops. He maintains immaculate records that all stand up to investigation, but I know he’s a criminal, and he knows I know he’s a criminal.’
He was becoming agitated. I said, ‘Now that I’ve seen his picture, I’ll look out for him.’
‘I believe there’s a strong likelihood he will approach you to see if he can get in on this racing scam, probably through a third party.’
I watched him. He held my gaze. I said, ‘And that’s the real reason you wanted to see me, isn’t it?’ I looked at Steel, but his bland smile didn’t change. I said, ‘What was this supposed to be, some kind of early plea bargaining? A deal in advance on the assumption I do know something about this scam?’