The Horse With My Name (16 page)

She raised an eyebrow.

I spat. I looked away. I dragged my feet out of the water and tried to pull myself up the bank. Where before I’d negotiated it with the nimbleness of a gazelle, now, wet, cold, heavy, my legs like lead, it was too much. I made several attempts and kept slipping down.

Finally I stayed where I was and glared back up at her. ‘What did I lie about?’

‘You tell me.’

I blew out. ‘Okay! So I don’t go jogging much! I used to run . . . all the time. I just . . . overestimated my capacity for––’

‘Not about the running.’

‘Then . . . what?’

‘Where do you want me to start?’

‘I don’t know!’

‘Well how about the car?’

‘What car?’

‘The fucking Ferrari!’

‘Oh.’

‘Indeed. I should have you arrested.’

I looked at my feet, hazy under the water. ‘Sorry,’ I said, glumly.

‘The mechanic spotted it straight away. Are you fucking crazy or what?’

I shrugged helplessly. ‘I really am sorry. I couldn’t control it. I was embarrassed. I didn’t think you’d notice.’

‘Didn’t think I’d notice! You tried to kill me!

‘I didn’t! It was an accident!

‘You cut the brakes by accident?

‘
What?
’

‘You don’t do something fucking lethal like that by accident.’

‘I didn’t cut any fucking brakes!’

‘You just bloody admitted it!’

‘I did not!’

‘Well what the fuck were you saying sorry for?’

‘Swapping . . . swapping seats with you after we crashed.’

‘
What?
’

‘I . . . I was driving you home . . . it was too fast for me . . . I crashed and you were still out of it . . . so I put you in the driver’s seat. I thought it might . . . help your insurance . . .’

‘
What?
’

‘Or . . . or . . . more probably mine.’ I blinked up at her. ‘It was stupid and churlish and I didn’t think it would matter because you’d been nasty and I didn’t think I’d ever see you again so I went and did it except since then I’ve found out how nice you are and I’m really really sorry for doing it.’

Her face was scrunched up. ‘I . . . can’t believe I’m hearing this . . . You put me in the . . . you didn’t cut the . . .?’

‘No. Fuck! No! Somebody . . .?’

‘Yes they did. Beyond doubt they did. And it wasn’t you?’

‘I swear to God.’

‘Why do I not believe you?’

‘I honestly wouldn’t lie to you.’

‘Like about the jogging?’

‘That wasn’t a lie, that was a fib.’

‘Oh yeah. And what about the Horse Whisperer?’

‘What?’

‘You tell me.’

‘I don’t . . .’

‘Don’t fuck me around, Dan.’

‘I’m not, I wouldn’t, I . . .’

‘Stop it. Do you think I’m fucking stupid? You know, you’re more to be pitied than . . . than whatever the phrase is.’

‘I don’t––’

‘Dan. I
know
. You ask me all that shit about the horses and the stables and the next day, lo and behold, there it all is in the Horse Whisperer. Coincidence?’

‘It
must
be . . . I wouldn’t . . .’

‘Dan . . .’

‘You know, there’s lots of spies out there. Lots of journalists. Just because . . . doesn’t mean . . .’

She was at the edge of the bank now, hands on hips, confident, in control,
certain
. I was the drowned rat, shrinking by the second. ‘And what,’ she began triumphantly, ‘if I had fed you a deliberately false snippet of information, just to see if it would turn up?’

Hook, line and sinker.

‘Ah. Well. Then you’d be feeling pretty damn smug right now.’

She let out a sigh. ‘Dan. You crashed my car. You tried to blame it on me. The only thing that makes me think you didn’t cut my brakes is that you were in the bloody car as well. Then you sold information to the Horse Whisperer. Give me one good reason why I should ever,
ever
speak to you again.’

‘Because.’

‘Because what?’

‘Just because. It’s reason enough.’

We stared at each other.

‘Why, Dan?’

‘Truth?’

‘Truth.’

There are times in your life when you have to make a decision. When you have to swallow your pride, stand up and tell the truth. It’s the mark of a man. I took a deep breath.

‘Because somebody is trying to kill your father and I’m trying to find out why.’

16

I retrieved my belongings from beneath the bridge, and then went back down the road towards her father’s house. I was soaked but not chilled, warmed perhaps by her unexpectedly positive reaction to my strategic lying. We walked in silence. Deliberately. I had told her I wasn’t going to reveal anything until I’d had a shower and the opportunity to change back into my clothes. She agreed quickly enough. The cutting of the brakes on her father’s Ferrari had sown the seeds. I had merely added the fertiliser. I was bathed in a new and flattering light. I had gone from sinner to the Saint. I had a halo that glistened off my teeth.

Over the last hundred yards or so she took my hand. ‘You’re cold,’ she said, although I was not. ‘I’m sorry.’ It was gratifying to see the red dye from the pirated Liverpool shirt soak into her skin as well.

It was the briefest of encounters. As we approached the gate, with its security cameras, she dropped my hand. She rang a bell, then waved up the drive towards the bungalow.

‘Your dad’s not going to be pleased to see me.’

‘Even with your news?’

‘He won’t believe me.’

‘Maybe not. Relax. He’s probably not home yet.’

After a few moments there was a low hum from the gates and they began to swing inwards. I could immediately see the Ferrari, gleaming like new, sitting outside the bungalow. There was a Land Rover beside it. We walked briskly up the driveway towards where Derek, watching quizzically, waited just inside the front door. He only pressed the security buzzer to allow us in at the very final moment.

‘Look what the cat dragged in,’ was his greeting.

I smiled appreciatively. Mandy, without explanation, brushed past him then led me down a long, dark corridor to a bathroomn. She showed me how the shower worked. There was really no need. I’d been taking showers for years. She got me a fresh towel. There was a bottle of Grecian 2000 and a set of pristine steel combs on the shelf above the sink. There were balms and moisturisers and gels in a straw basket. There was a half-squeezed tube of KY Jelly and a saucer of multicoloured condoms.

‘These yours?’ I asked.

‘No, the gay boys.’

‘Ah.’

‘Have your shower. We have to talk.’

She left me. I showered. I checked the bathroom cabinet for evidence. There was evidence of dandruff, bad breath and vitamin deficiency, but nothing I could tie in to a murder plot. I slipped into the shower and tried not to think of what Derek and Eric might have been up to in it. I concentrated on rearranging the facts to fit into what I had revealed to Mandy. The water was hot and it was great. It wasn’t the sort of shower where you would find a chicken drumstick in the plughole. I was thirty minutes under it and only came out when there was a bang on
the door and a shouted enquiry from Mandy after my health.

I towelled off. There was a choice of a nice silk bathrobe or my own street clothes. I chose wisely. Just in case Derek was feeling lonely. I am not particularly homophobic. But gay ex-cops with guns frighten the pants off me. Metaphorically speaking. I combed my hair with my fingers. I was all thumbs. I was nervous. I had to talk truth with Mandy and all I had was half-truths.

I pre-empted. ‘Tell me about the car,’ I said as she showed me into the lounge.

‘No, tell me what you’re up to,’ she countered.

‘Tell me about the car. It may have some bearing on what I’m up to.’

She pondered that for several moments. While she did I investigated her father’s drinks cabinet. It was well stocked. She said, ‘Make yourself at home.’ She followed it up with ‘In need of Dutch courage?’

‘Just tell me about the car.’

‘Like I said, the brakes were cut. If you tried to drive me home like you said you did then the likelihood is you didn’t lose control because of your own deficiencies as a man.’

‘Ouch.’

Derek appeared in the doorway. He looked sniffily across at me. ‘Are you after anything in particular?’

Something a little fruity
. A different time, a different place. ‘Just a little drinkie,’ I said. I produced a bottle of white wine and two glasses. ‘Staying?’ I asked Derek.

He shook his head. ‘I was just going to say, I’m popping down to the shop. Get something nice for tea. Don’t be opening those gates for anyone, okay?’

Mandy nodded absently. Derek withdrew. A couple of minutes later I heard the car leave. I poured two glasses of wine and offered one to Mandy.

‘I told you. I can’t. I’m riding on Saturday.’

‘Oh. Well. Waste not want not.’

I sat on the sofa with the two glasses and began to sip. She settled into the armchair opposite and folded her legs beneath her. They were nice legs. She had showered. She was wearing a virgin-white towelling dressing gown. Her hair was damp and combed back. As all this was registering she said suddenly, ‘Please tell me what’s going on. I’m worried about my dad. He’s not normally like this.’

‘Like what?’

‘With the guns and the security and always looking over his shoulder. We’ve only had those gates a few weeks. They’re a right pain in the hole.’

I took another sip. I licked my lips. ‘I don’t really know where to begin.’

‘Yes you do.’

‘Okay. At the beginning. Like all good stories. I just hope this one has a––’

‘Just
tell
me, will you?’

‘Well,’ I said. ‘You must know your father has made a lot of enemies.’

‘He has business rivals. I don’t know about enemies.’

‘Believe me. He has.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I was asked by the Horse Whisperer to find out who’d put a contract out on your father.’

‘A contract?’

‘A contract, and I’m not talking recording.’

‘That explains the car . . .’

‘And the three dead Chinamen in my house.’

‘The
what
?’

‘You heard. I came down here and started asking questions. Low and behold, three Chinamen break into my house, tie me to a chair and set fire to my feet.’

‘Your . . .?’

I rolled down my socks and showed her the burns.

‘Jesus. No wonder you couldn’t run. Why on earth didn’t you . . .?’

I shrugged. ‘They’re not sore. I wanted to run with you.’

She smiled hesitantly. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘It’s complicated. The Chinese wanted to know what I knew about your father, his movements. Their English wasn’t the best.’

‘God.’

‘Luckily, one of them found my computer. They gave me a breather on the torture while they checked it out. I managed to free myself, only one of them caught on and we had a bit of a scrap as I tried to make my exit out the window. His gun came loose and we both grabbed it. There was a bit of a struggle and he ended up shot. Before I could get out the other two came for me guns blazing. I just closed my eyes and fired. When I opened them all three were lying dead. As far as I’m aware they still are. Up at the house. There’s been nothing in the papers. You can go and check if you want.’

‘I . . . God, I don’t know what to say.’

‘I’ve been on the run ever since. That’s why my clothes were in a bag under the bridge.’

‘Do you still have the gun?’

‘No. Of course not. I threw it away.’

She unfolded her legs, then refolded them the other way. ‘Maybe I will take that glass of wine.’

It was gone, but I got her another.

‘Why would anyone want to kill my father?’ she said almost dreamily as I handed it to her. I plonked myself down beside her. She didn’t object. She moved her legs a few inches to give me more room.

‘Mandy. You know as well as I do. He’s hardly going
to qualify for the diplomatic corps, is he? He doesn’t just step on toes, he cuts them off and chews them. He might wear the nice tweeds and Barbour jackets. But he hasn’t changed. He’s a circus-tent hustler trying to muscle into the old boys’ club.’

‘And I’m the hustler’s daughter.’

I shrugged. ‘Does he owe anyone money?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Has he reneged on a deal?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Might we go through his paperwork?’

‘He doesn’t keep it here.’

‘There must be something.’

‘Dan – even if there was, I couldn’t. It’s up to him. I’ll have to speak to him. Obviously he hasn’t been telling me. I’m his daughter. He’s trying to protect me. I’ve a big race on Saturday, he doesn’t want me worried. There’s plenty of explanations. He doesn’t have to have done something wrong. There are a lot of strange, deranged people out there. I know, I’ve dated some of them.’

We sat staring at the carpet for some time.

‘I’m sorry it’s got you into trouble, Dan.’

I shrugged. ‘It’s my own fault for asking.’

‘Still. I shouldn’t have pushed you in the river.’

‘You’d every right to. If the roles had been reversed I’d have pushed you in, then bashed your head in with a stone.’

‘You wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

‘You’re forgetting the Chinamen.’

‘That was self-defence.’

‘Tell that to the Guards.’

‘The Chinese aren’t into owning or breeding, at least not in Europe. They’re into gambling, though. And so is my dad.’

‘Is or was? I heard his bookie’s operation went bankrupt.’

‘Not that I’m aware. Someone else runs it for him, but it’s still his and still turns a nice profit.’

‘I must have been misinformed.’

‘Fuck.’ She snapped it out suddenly. ‘All I want is a simple life. Look after my horses and win the Grand National.’

‘It’s not your fault somebody’s after your dad.’

‘Well why does it feel like it?’

I shrugged.

I got us both another glass of wine. I sat a little closer. I had carried off my lying with aplomb. I had not been particularly deceitful. Just a slight rearranging of the facts. I was wanted for one murder and would shortly be called to account for three others. I was lying to a beautiful woman and stealthily trying to get her drunk; not so drunk that she would vomit down the back of the sofa, just enough to make her fall asleep so that I could root around for a paper trail with which to nail Geordie McClean, and all before Derek returned to conjure something up in the kitchen.