Dead Heat - By Dick Francis & Felix Francis Page 0,122
he would have been able to do alone, at least to any decent standard.
‘I’ve already got one,’ she said. ‘Although I might lose it if I don’t do some practice soon.’
‘Practice?’ Carl asked. ‘What do you do?’
In answer, Caroline reached down for the ever-present Viola, and took her out of her case.
‘I know who you are,’ said Carl suddenly. He looked at me. ‘She’s the bitch that’s suing us.’ We laughed. Even Caroline, the bitch, laughed.
‘I’ll try and see about that,’ she said. ‘Perhaps I’ve just been paid off.’ She held up the beer and drank deeply, leaving a white moustache on her upper lip that she wiped away with her forearm. We laughed again.
I tried calling DI Turner. This was the fourth time and once again I was told he was not available. I again asked if I could leave a message, but I was beginning to think that he wasn’t receiving them. I told the person at the other end of the line that it was really urgent. ‘Can I help?’ he asked. I started to tell him that it was about the bombing at Newmarket races. He told me that I should contact the Suffolk police, not Special Branch. I told him that I feared my life was in danger but I don’t think he believed me. He repeated that I should contact my local police station. So I did, and I asked for the senior officer on duty only to be told that the inspector was out at the moment, and would I like to leave a message. I sighed and said I would try again later.
Richard came into the office to say that most of the customers had gone and only one table remained, and they were having their coffee.
‘Mrs Kealy was asking after you,’ he said to me.
‘Were the Kealys here tonight?’ I asked. ‘It’s not Saturday.’
‘Last night and tonight,’ he said. ‘Mrs Kealy said something about wanting to support the restaurant after the difficult times with the poisoned dinner and all.’
How nice, I thought. I needed more customers like the Kealys.
‘Most of the staff can go home now,’ I said. ‘And you, Carl, if you like. I’ll lock up.’ I wanted to be the last to leave, so as not to be followed. ‘Richard, can you finish up?’ He would ensure that the last table paid their bill, and then he would see them off the premises.
‘No problem,’ he said, and departed back to the dining room.
‘Where are you staying?’ Carl asked.
‘We’re booked into a hotel,’ I said.
‘Which one?’ he asked.
I wondered just how much I trusted Carl. ‘The Rutland Arms,’ I lied.
I hoped he didn’t check. Moreton would not be on the guest list for tonight at the Rutland Arms. But, then again, Moreton wasn’t on the guest list for the Bedford Lodge either. I had booked our room in the name of Butcher.
‘Well, I’m pooped,’ said Carl, standing up. ‘I’m going home to bed.’ The office usually doubled as a changing room but, no doubt out of deference to Caroline, Carl took himself off to the gents to change out of his work clothes. I had always intended putting in a proper changing room, including a shower, but we had never quite got round to it.
Caroline placed Viola on her shoulder and played softly. It was wonderful. I watched her and she stopped playing. ‘Don’t stop,’ I said. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘I’m embarrassed,’ she said.
‘Don’t be silly,’ I said. ‘On Thursday night hundreds of people will be watching you.’
‘That’s somehow different,’ she said. ‘They won’t be just two feet from my nose.’
I pushed my chair away until I was at least four feet away. ‘Better?’ I asked.
She didn’t answer but again placed Viola on her shoulder and played sweet music.
Carl came back into the office, changed. Caroline stopped and he smiled at her. ‘Someone’s left a mobile phone in the gents,’ he said, placing it on my desk. ‘Silly bugger. I’ll deal with it in the morning. Goodnight.’ He turned to leave.
‘Night, Carl,’ I said. ‘And thanks for holding the fort.’
‘No problem,’ he said, and departed. I couldn’t actually say to him tonight that he needed to work on his man-management skills. I would deal with that in the morning too.
‘Are we off?’ said Caroline.
‘Soon,’ I said. ‘We’ll wait until Richard has finished up and gone too.’
The forgotten mobile phone on my desk rang. Caroline and I looked at it.