Bolt - By Dick Francis Page 0,87

information which might have led to my death. If you’ve done the same regarding Kit, which it appears you have, and Nanterre succeeds in killing him, you’ll be guilty of conspiracy to murder, and I shall inform the police to that effect.’

Beatrice crumbled totally inside. It was all far more than she’d meant to involve herself in, and Litsi’s threat sounded like the heavy tread of an unthinkable future of penal reckoning.

Beatrice said to Litsi with a touch of sullenness,‘I told Henri where he keeps his car, while he’s here. This evening I told Henri that he’ll be fetching Danielle for the last time tomorrow … that he goes round to his car at one-thirty in the morning … Henri said that was excellent … but then he talked about you at Bradbury … and the horses dying … and he started shouting, and I realised … how he’d used me.’ Her face crumpled as if she would cry again but, perhaps sensing a universal lack of sympathy, she smothered the impulse and looked from one to the other of us, searching for pity.

Litsi was looking quietly triumphant, much as I was feeling myself. The princess however was shocked and wide-eyed.

‘That dark mews!’ she said, horrified.‘Kit, don’t go down there.’

‘No’ I assured her.‘I’ll park somewhere else.’ She relaxed, clearly satisfied by the simple solution, and Danielle looked at me broodingly, knowing I wouldn’t.

I winked at her.

She almost laughed.‘How can you?’ she said.‘How can you joke? Don’t say it, don’t say it … easily.’

The princess and Beatrice looked mystified but paid not much attention.

’Are you absolutely certain,’ I said to Beatrice,‘that you can’t get in touch with Nanterre again?’

’Yes, I am,’ she said uncertainly, and looked nervously at Litsi.‘But … but …’

’But what, Beatrice?’

’He’s going to telephone here this evening. He wanted me to tell Roland about your accident and about Col being shot, and then he would find out if Roland was ready to sign … and if not …’ She squirmed.‘I couldn’t let him hurt Danielle. I couldn’t!’

Her eyes seemed to focus on her untouched drink. She stretched out a scarlet-nailed much be-ringed hand and gave a good imitation of one fresh from the desert. The princess, hardly able to look at her sister-in-law, headed for the door, motioning with her hand for me to go with her.

I followed. She went into the dining room where dinner was laid and asked me to close the door, which I did.

She said, with intense worry,‘Nothing has changed, has it, because of what Beatrice has told us?’

‘No,’ I said, with a thankfulness she didn’t hear.

‘We can’t go on and on. We can’t risk Danielle’s face. You can’t risk that.’ The dilemma was dreadful, as Nanterre had meant.

‘No,’ I said,‘I can’t risk that. But give me until Tuesday. Don’t let Monsieur know of the threats until then. We have a plan. We have a lever, but we need a stronger one. We’ll get rid of Nanterre,’ I promised,‘if you’ll give us that time.’

‘You and Litsi?’

‘Yes.’

‘Litsi was the man who fell from the balcony,’ she said, wanting confirmation.

I nodded, and told her of the decoy message but not about finding the messenger.

’Dear heaven. Surely we must tell the police‘

’Wait until Tuesday,’ I begged.‘We will then, if we have to.’

She agreed easily enough because police enquiries could lead to publicity; and I hoped for John Smith Arnold Vincent Hodges’ sake that we wouldn’t have to drop him into hot water with his wife.

I asked the princess if I could have ten minutes’ private conversation with her husband that evening, and without more ado she whisked us both up in the lift and arranged it on the spot, saying it was a convenient time as he would not be coming down to dinner.

She saw me in and left us, and I took the red leather armchair as indicated by Roland.

’How can I help you?’ he said civilly, his head supported by the high-backed wheelchair.‘More guards? I have met Sammy,’ he smiled faintly.‘He’s amusing.’

’No, monsieur, not more guards. I wondered if I could go to see your lawyer, Gerald Greening, early tomorrow morning. Would you mind if I made an appointment?’

‘is this to do with Henri Nanterre?’

‘Yes, monsieur.’

‘Could you say why you want Gerald?’

I explained. He said wearily that he saw no prospect of success, but that I needn’t go to Gerald’s office, Gerald would come to the house. The world, I saw in amusement, was divided between those who went to lawyers’ offices, and those to