Even Money - By Dick Francis & Felix Francis Page 0,98

just careful. I don’t know you.”

“Are you always careful with people you don’t know?” I asked him. My dying father had told me to be careful of everyone.

“Yup,” he said, being ultracareful.

“Good,” I said overexuberantly. “That’s exactly what’s needed in bookmaking. You can’t be too careful because you never really know your customers or what they might be up to.”

He looked at me, cocking his head to one side. “Are you taking the mick?” he said slowly.

“Something like that,” I replied.

He smiled. It was a brief smile, but a vast improvement while it lasted.

“That’s all right, then,” he said.

“Come on, let’s go,” I said with a smile, “or we’ll be late.” The three of us loaded up into my Volvo, with Luca sitting up front next to me and Duggie in the back. Sophie came to the door to wave as we set off for the Worcester races.

“How’s she doing?” Luca asked me, waving back at her.

“Fine,” I said, not really wanting to discuss things in front of Douglas, but the young man was very quick on the uptake.

“Is she ill?” he asked from behind me.

“She’s fine at the moment, thank you,” I said, hoping to end the conversation at that point.

“Cancer, is it?” he said.

“No,” I said.

“My mum had cancer,” he said. “It killed her in the end.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said wistfully. “Everyone’s sorry. Doesn’t bring her back, though, does it?”

There was no answer to that, so we sat in silence for a while, and I warmed to the boy.

“Duggie,” I said, “how well do you know the others in the electronics club?”

“I know some of them,” he said. “Why?”

“Are you careful of them as well?” I asked. “Or would you trust them?”

“Maybe I’d trust them not to grass to the cops, none of them is snitches,” he said. “That’s about all.”

“How many of them are there?”

“Dunno,” he said. “Quite a lot.”

“There must be sixty of them at least, if you count them all,” said Luca. “But they’re not all there on any one night. Most come out of choice these days, but some still don’t come unless they are told to by the courts, and others disappear from time to time, you know, when they get sent off to young offenders’ institutions.”

“So how many of those sixty would you actually trust, Duggie?” I asked.

“With what?” he replied.

“With some money,” I said. “Say, to go and buy something for me or to place a bet.”

“Maybe half,” he said.“The rest would just spend it on themselves. On drugs, mostly.”

Half of them would be enough, I thought.

“Would you know which are the ones to trust?” I asked him.

“Sure,” he said with confidence. “The ones who are my mates.”

“What did you do, Duggie?” I asked, changing the subject. “To be sent to the club?”

There was a long pause.

“Stole cars,” he said finally.

“For money?” I asked.

“Nah,” he said. “For fun.”

“Do you still steal cars?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

“Do you have any recorded convictions?” I asked.

There was another long silence from the back of the car.

“Duggie,” I said. “I’m not asking so that I can judge you myself, but I need to know under the conditions of my bookmaking license.”

Under the terms for the issuing of licenses in the mammoth Gambling Act 2005, prior convictions did not, in themselves, mean an individual was not a fit and proper person to hold a bookmaker’s license. Equally, they didn’t preclude someone from working as a bookmaker’s assistant. But I needed to know. Convictions for violence would be a no-no.

“Yes,” Duggie said.

“Just for stealing cars?” I asked.

Convictions for fraud were also not permitted.

“Yes,” he said reluctantly. “But I never really done it. I was told to plead guilty.”

“Who by?” I asked.

“Our poncey lawyer,” he said. “There was a group of us. We all got done for it. The lawyer said we would get a lesser sentence if we pleaded guilty. So I did.”

“But why if you didn’t do it?” I asked.

“I was in the car, wasn’t I?” he said. “But I didn’t know it was stolen. The poncey lawyer said I would get done anyway, so I should plead guilty.”

I wasn’t sure whether to believe him.

“Is that all?” I said. “Only the once?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“OK,” I said.

I drove on in silence for a while.

“I won’t steal your money, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Duggie said eventually.

I wasn’t, but I might keep a close eye on him anyway.

The Wednesday racing at Worcester was quiet compared with the previous evening at Towcester. There were not really enough