Bolt - By Dick Francis Page 0,59

way … I didn’t leave go consciously. When I was falling, I thought I would die … and I would have done … it’s incredible that all those people took off their coats.’ He paused, ‘I wish I could thank them,’ he said.

‘I couldn’t think where you’d got to,’ Danielle reflected. ‘I was waiting for you on the stands, where we’d arranged to meet after I’d been to the ladies room. I didn’t imagine …’

‘But,’ said Litsi, ‘I went up to that balcony because I was supposed to meet you up there, Danielle.’

I stopped the car abruptly.

‘Say that again,’ I said.

THIRTEEN

Litsi said it again. ‘I got this message that Danielle was waiting for me up on the balcony to look at the view.’

‘I didn’t send any such message,’ Danielle said blankly. ‘I was waiting where we’d watched the race before, where we’d said we’d meet.’

‘Who gave you the message?’ I asked Litsi.

‘Just a man.’

‘What did he look like?’

‘Well … an ordinary man. Not very young. He had a Sporting Life in his hands, and a sort of form book, with his finger keeping the place … and binoculars.’

‘What sort of voice?’

‘Just … ordinary.’

I let the brakes off with a sigh and started off towards Chiswick. Litsi had walked straight into a booby trap which had been meant either to frighten him or to kill him, and no one would have set it but Henri Nanterre. I hadn’t seen Nanterre at the races, and neither Litsi nor Danielle knew him by sight.

If Nanterre had set the trap, he’d known where Litsi would be that day, and the only way he could have known was via Beatrice. I couldn’t believe that she would have known what use would be made of her little tit-bit, and it occurred to me that I didn’t want her to know, either. It was important that Beatrice should keep right on telling.

Litsi and Danielle were quiet in the back of the car, no doubt travelling along much the same mental track. They protested, though, when I asked them not to tell Beatrice about the fake message.

‘But she’s got to know,’ Danielle said vehemently. Then she’ll see she must stop it. She’ll see how murderous that man is …’

‘I don’t want her to stop it just yet,’ I said. ‘Not until Tuesday.’

‘Why ever not? Why Tuesday?’

‘We’ll do what Kit wants,’ Litsi said, I’ll tell Beatrice just what I told the racecourse people, that I went up to look at the view.’

‘She’s dangerous,’ Danielle said.

‘I don’t see how we can catch Nanterre without her,’ I said. ‘So be a darling.’

I wasn’t sure whether or not it was the actual word which silenced her, but she made no more objections, and we travelled for a while without saying anything significant. Litsi’s arms and shoulders were aching from the strain of having hung onto the wall so long, and he shifted uncomfortably from time to time, making small grunts.

I went back to thinking about the man who had delivered the misleading message, and asked Litsi if he was absolutely positive the man had used the word ‘Danielle’.

‘Positive,’ Litsi said without hesitation. ‘What he said to me first was, “Do you know someone called Danielle?” When I said I did, he said she wanted me to go up the stairs to the balcony to look at the view. He pointed up there. So I went.’

‘OK,’ I said. ‘Then we’ll take a spot of positive action.’

Like almost everyone in the racing world, I had a telephone in my car, and I put a call through to the Towncrier and asked for the Sports Desk. I wasn’t sure whether their racing correspondent, Bunty Ireland, would be in the office at that time, but it seemed he was. He hadn’t been at Bradbury: he went mostly to major meetings and on other days wrote his column in the office.

‘I want to pay for an advertisement,’ I told him, ‘but it has to be on the racing page and in a conspicuous place.’

‘Are you touting for rides?’ he asked sardonically. ‘A Grand National mount? Have saddle, will travel, that sort of thing?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Very funny.’ Bunty had an elephantine sense of humour but he was kind at heart. ‘Write this down word for word, and persuade the racing page editor to print it in nice big noticeable letters.’

‘Fire away, then.’

‘Large reward offered to anyone who passed on a message from Danielle at Bradbury races on Thursday afternoon.’ I dictated it slowly and added the telephone