with the starting prices.
It was a fair bet, therefore, that the message had come from one of the big bookmaking firms. They were the only ones who would have suffered from Luca and Larry’s little game at Stratford races. But which big firm? There were half a dozen or so who might be in the frame, but I would have been surprised if one or two of those had resorted to beating people up in racetrack parking lots. Conversely, it was exactly the behavior I would have expected from a couple of the others.
“I hear you’ve been talking to Luca,” Larry said. “About our amusements.”
“Yes, I have,” I said sharply. “Larry, you really should know better.”
“Yes,” he said, “perhaps I should. But I’m that fed up with being treated like an irritation by these big corporations. I refuse to be swatted like a fly and muscled out of my job. They are all now having their own pitches at the races as well, so they can manipulate the odds even further. It’s not just us who should be angry. The betting public shouldn’t stand for it either.”
“Oh come on,” I said.“You must be living in cloud-cuckoo-land if you think the betting public are ever going to feel sorry for us.”
“Yeah,” he replied, “I suppose you’re right.”
Damn right, I was. My grandfather always used to say that bookmakers could expect about as much sympathy as house-breakers: both were trying to rob other people’s belongings, only the bookmakers were doing it legally.
I didn’t actually agree with my grandfather, as gambling surely involved free choice, but it was an opinion that I knew was held by many of those with whom we did daily business.
“So what are you going to do about it?” Larry demanded.
“About what?” I asked.
“Getting even.”
“I’m not sure yet. But first, I’m going to find out whose orders those thugs were following. And, Larry,” I said, looking him straight in the eye, “no more little games. Understand?”
“Why are you being so bloody self-righteous all of a sudden?” he said.
“Because I recognize when not to poke a hornet’s nest with a stick. Let us wait and bide our time, and let’s not get stung again in the meantime.”
“OK,” he said with resignation, “I suppose so.”
Larry wasn’t happy. He wanted to lash out at those who had hurt both his body and his pride. But lashing out at a great big grizzly bear would simply result in another claw swipe to the head.
Getting even required far more cunning than that.
16
Mr. John Smith, or whoever, was waiting for me next to my car in the Uttoxeter racetrack parking lot at the end of the day.
“Haven’t you got anything better to do than hang round in racetrack parking lots?” I asked him sarcastically.
“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” he said, ignoring me.
“How very observant of you,” I replied.
“Don’t you be funny with me,” he said. “Your friend is back from holiday tomorrow, and I want the microcoder.”
“I don’t know what time she lands,” I said. “I’ll call you when I’ve heard from her.”
“Make sure you do,” he said threateningly.
“You should be nice to me,” I said, “or you won’t get it back at all.”
“Watch it,” he said with real menace.
“Are you threatening me?” I asked.
“You’d better believe it,” he said.
“Well, I must warn you, I don’t respond well to threats.”
“Take my advice, Mr. Talbot,” he said, “respond to this one.”
Gone was the patient good humor of last Wednesday afternoon. Mr. John Smith, I imagined, was under pressure to get results.
He suddenly turned and walked away across the parking lot. I tried to see where he went, but I lost sight of him amongst the departing crowd, and I couldn’t tell if it was the dark blue Ford from the rest area that he climbed into.
“What was all that about?” asked Luca, who had been silently watching the exchange. Betsy had been standing next to him throughout, and her eyes were now wide with surprise and inquisition.
“Nothing,” I said, and started to load the equipment into the car.
“It didn’t look like nothing to us,” Luca said.
I looked him in the eye, and then shot a quick glance at Betsy, hoping Luca would get the message that I didn’t want to discuss the matter within her hearing.
“Just who was that man?” said Betsy. “He didn’t seem very nice.”
“It was nothing,” I said again. “He wants something I have, and we have been negotiating about the price. That’s all.”
Luca looked at me with disbelief showing all over his face, but he