Even Money - By Dick Francis & Felix Francis Page 0,92
next time, Teddy,” said the big guy, staggering a little and giving me a wave. I watched his group lurch over to a white minibus and fall into it. The passengers all waved enthusiastically at me through the windows as poor, sober PC Boucher drove them away. I waved back at them, laughing.
“HRF Holdings,” said Luca. “Do we know them?”
“Not by that name,” I said.
“What, then?” he asked.
“I believe HRF Holdings Limited is a parent company,” I said. “And I think I know one of its children.”
It took me less than an hour to get home, including a few extra trips around the roundabouts to ensure that I wasn’t being followed by a certain black BMW 4× 4 containing a couple of heavies.
I couldn’t see anyone following me, but they wouldn’t have actually needed to. I was sure that whoever their “boss” might be, he would have been able to find out where I lived with ease if he’d wanted to. My name and address were on the electoral rolls, for a start, and I hadn’t bothered to tick the box to keep that information secret.
Consequently, I drove up and down Station Road a couple of times to see if the BMW was parked up somewhere awaiting my arrival. There was no sign of it, but I couldn’t check every street in Kenilworth.
I parked the car in the space in front of the house and made it safely, unchallenged, to my front door.
“Hello,” said Sophie, coming to meet me. “Had a good time?”
“Very,” I said. “I always like Towcester, especially the evening meetings.”
“Hiya,” said Alice, coming out of the kitchen with a glass of white wine in each hand. She gave one of them to Sophie with a smile. I wasn’t sure that drinking alcohol was necessarily a good idea on top of her medication, but I wasn’t going to say so. For now, it was far more important that the truce between the sisters was still holding firm.
They had been out in Alice’s car when I had left for the races, and I thought they might have been to see their parents in spite of telling me that they were off to Leamington Spa for the shopping. However, there was no sign of the agitation that Sophie normally displayed after such a visit, so I wasn’t certain. And I wasn’t going to ask. We went into the kitchen.
“Have you had a good day?” I asked them.
“Lovely,” Sophie said without elaborating.
“So what time did you get back?”
“About seven.”
“Have you eaten?” I looked at my watch, it was now past ten.
“We have,” said Sophie. “But I’ve kept some for you. I know you’re always hungry when you get home after an evening meeting.”
I suppose it was true, but it didn’t mean I always had something to eat. During the past five months, I had more often than not had a stiff shot of Scotch and gone straight to bed.
“And we’ve been at the crisps and dip,” said Alice with a giggle.
And the white wine, I thought, though, to be fair, Sophie seemed pretty sober even if Alice was obviously quite tipsy.
“Do you know anything about a rucksack?” Sophie asked casually as she stood at the cooker reheating my supper.
“What?” I said sharply,
“A rucksack,” she said again. “A man came here. Said he wanted to collect a rucksack. He said you knew about it.”
“What sort of rucksack?” I said, rather flustered.
“A black-and-red rucksack,” she said. “The man told us you were looking after it for him. He was quite persistent, I can tell you. I don’t think he liked it much when I told him I knew nothing about it.”
Oh God, I thought.
“So you didn’t give it to him?” I asked her.
“No, of course not,” she said. “I didn’t even know we had a black-and-red rucksack. Where is it?”
“In the cupboard under the stairs,” I said. “Did the man try and get into the house?”
“No,” she said, slightly perturbed by the question. “Why would he?”
“I just wondered, that’s all,” I said. “So tell me, what happened?”
“I told him to go away and come back when you were at home.”
“We then locked the house up tight, opened a bottle and waited for you to get back,” said Alice with a smile. They were both remarkably calm about the man’s visit. Probably because they didn’t realize the seriousness of the situation. But why would they?
“When was this?” I asked.
“Round eight o’clock,” Sophie said.
“Can you describe the man?” I said to both of them.