by Joe McNally
Bradley said, ‘It was planned as a courtesy meeting, to alert you to the danger.’
‘Courtesy my arse.’
From the corner of my eye, I saw Mac’s head go down. Bradley said, ‘Believe what you want. My main concern is that if Ember is involved, or becomes involved in this, that you do not try to deal with him yourself. That would be dangerous for you, and damaging to…to the police.’
‘To you,’ I said, ‘you were about to say that and you stopped yourself.’ He remained silent. I said, ‘Well, at least you didn’t deny it.’
Steel said, ‘Well, I think we’ve all made our positions clear, gentlemen. It’s always been BHA policy to cooperate, indeed to give every assistance possible to the police. We know that everyone we licence, especially jockeys and trainers will be keen to support that policy to the utmost in this fight for integrity in the sport.’
I said, ‘Well, talking of trainers, I’d have said it was as much Mister Grant’s fight as mine, if you want to put it like that.’
Bradley looked at Steel, who said, ‘Dil Grant trains the horses Mister Malloy told us about.’
’So why do you say it’s Mister Grant’s fight too?’ Bradley asked.
‘He trains them. I just ride them. If they get beat, I’m never happy, but it doesn’t affect my livelihood, or, at least, not much.’
‘Whereas?’ he asked.
‘Whereas, Mister Grant looks after those horses round the clock. He knows them inside out. His job, his whole business depends on people trusting his skills as a trainer, and the security at his yard…not that I’m casting any doubt on that. Dil’s a friend of mine. But I’d say that as far as this goes, he’s the organ grinder, and you’re currently talking to the monkey.’
Bradley looked at Steel and Steel turned to look at Mac, who didn’t seem to know where to look. I said, ‘This is like watching some kind of mental pass the parcel, only it’s actually pass the buck.’
Steel got up, smiling once more, and holding out his hand, ‘Mister Malloy, I really can’t thank you enough for taking the time out from your busy schedule.’
I rose and shook his hand, ’Not at all.’ I moved sideways as the policeman got up and I reached for his hand, ‘Nice meeting you, chief constable.’
‘Indeed,’ he said.
I raised a hand toward Mac. He nodded, stern but seemingly relieved I hadn’t blown completely.
I left the door to its soft, slow closing and moved silently across thick carpet toward the staircase, frustrated that I hadn’t avoided digging myself deeper into this shit.
I was convinced nobody meant me harm, and I’d gone in there intending to stay out of other people’s battles. That’s why I’d pitched Dil into it. But Bradley seemed to want me in there fighting on his behalf, a refreshing change, I suppose. Most cops usually warned me off carrying out my own “inquiries” as Bradley had put it.
Downstairs, on the next level, I caught sight of the bookies’ ‘ring’, the bear pit they all worked from, and it set me wondering why I’d never noticed this Sydney Ember. I knew a few professional punters. In fact, I was confident I knew all of them who’d been at it more than four or five years, because most didn’t last that long.
It sounded like Mister Ember had found a very effective method of laundering money. If he was the sharp criminal Bradley had painted, he’d have no problem setting up a handful of bank accounts to use on the betting exchanges. Was it him who’d collected the big money on Spalpeen at Cheltenham?
Maybe it was time to start asking a few questions of my own about Sydney Ember.
32
My one ride, in the third race, was for Ben Tylutki. The horse was unbeaten in two runs at small racecourses, and he was stepping up in grade, big time. That’s when you find out what a horse is made of. Competing against the best exposes all hopes and dreams and lays your investment bare on the green track. Come the end of the race, owner and trainer either have a potential champ to take home, or a headful of shattered plans.
This horse was a lovely compact bay named Indamelia. He managed to stay with the others at a fierce pace, and was just beginning to weaken when the even money favourite scorched past in that flat-out run of terror. My mind went back to this morning’s meeting, and I took mental refuge in the fact that here was one I wasn’t riding. Then it dawned, that, riding them or not, these runaways were happening only in races I rode in.
Like Stevedore had done, this favourite ran out two hurdles from home, and, thus disqualified, he slowed and was pulled up. I glanced across as we passed him. Tim Jacobs, his jockey, looked at me and shook his head.
Was he disgusted at me or the horse?
The jockeys’ changing room, especially the one at Aintree, had seen pretty much everything, but when I walked in with my kit, all eyes seemed to be on me. Gary Conlon said, ‘This is getting crazy. What the fuck is going on?’
Riled, I stopped in front of him, ‘You asking me?’
‘No. I’m just saying, right? This is fucking madness!’
‘It is madness. But it’s everybody’s madness. It’s not mine!’
Bomber walked over and put a hand on my shoulder, ‘Take it easy, Eddie, nobody’s blaming you.’
I sighed and threw my saddle onto the bench, and reached to touch Gary’s arm, ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
‘Don’t worry about it. It must be driving you twice as mad as the rest of us. Don’t you know anything? You’re not exactly the man who ducks out of shit like this.’
‘Gary, your guess is as good as mine. I just realized back there that it’s only happened in races I’ve been riding in, and it’s not just happening to me. If there’s a connection, I’m fucked if I know what it is.’
Bomber said, ‘What’s McCarthy saying about it?’
‘Oh, they know less than we do, as usual.’
I wondered briefly if the news had leaked that I’d been interviewed earlier by the high ups. If it had, no-one would raise it now, not after I’d blown a gasket with Gary.
‘What about Grant?’ Colin Parker asked, ‘most of the horses have been his.’
‘Two haven’t,’ I said, ‘counting today, three of the five have been Dil’s, and he’s no wiser than the rest of us.’
Heads were shaken, words were mumbled, feet were shuffled and the changing room morphed softly back into its routine.
Normally I’d have stayed around in the hope of picking up a spare in one of the remaining races, but I was sick of everything. This morning I’d congratulated myself on avoiding any possibility of being drawn into this. Even beforehand, I’d shied away by persuading Vita to employ Ben, and by nudging Ben into taking it on.
All we’d learned was that Jon Vogel didn’t like women or democracy. And the only place my ducking and diving had led me was down an ever-narrowing alleyway. And I hadn’t the faintest idea of how to find my way back to daylight.
I took my phone from the car’s glovebox. A text from Mac told me not to leave the track without speaking to him. I called him…’Eddie? Where are you?’
‘In the car. I’m going home.’
‘Can you put up with a lodger for the night?’
’Sure…of course. Has something happened? They haven’t sacked you, have they?’
‘Not yet. And only because it would have taken too much explaining to the mob in the media tent.’
’Shit…that’s bad news, Mac. Where are you now?’
‘Up at the stables. I can’t leave until racing is finished, so you go on home, and I’ll see you tonight.’
‘I’ll have a glass filled and waiting for you.’
‘Thanks. And if you get any calls from the press, don’t answer, not until we’ve spoken.’
‘Why?’
‘Eddie, just leave it until later, will you? It’s best kept off the airwaves.’
‘Okay.’ I hung up and sighed and headed for home.
33
In the Snug, standing by the fire, Mac drank the cognac in two swallows, then wr
iggled out of his coat.
‘That bad?’ I said.
He ran his fingers through his thick, greying hair and sat heavily in the big chair, and looked at me. I said, ‘They wanted to stand me down, didn’t they?’
‘Worse than that.’
I waited. Mac liked to try and build suspense. He just kept watching me. I said, ‘Mac, it doesn’t get worse than that as far as I’m concerned.’
‘Oh, it does…Bradley wanted to put a phone tap on your mobile, after getting your past records.’
I sat forward, ‘He’s got my phone records?’
‘No, he wanted to get hold of your past records, then put a phone tap on you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he doesn’t believe what you said. He’s convinced you must know this Sydney Ember.’
I sat back and stared at the ceiling. Mac said, ‘I persuaded them that it would be a very very bad idea.’
‘Who took most persuading?’
‘Bradley.’
‘How do these guys get to the top positions, tell me? How much plainer could it be that I was innocent back when I was warned off. Did you tell him it was you who actually found Kruger’s confession?’
‘As a matter of fact I did.’
‘But it obviously wasn’t enough.’
‘I had to tell them that if they tapped your phone you would cause the biggest shitstorm they’ve ever seen. Steel said, “But how would he find out?” and I said, “Because I would tell him.”’
Mac paused for effect, as he was well entitled to do. I said, ‘Mac, I don’t quite know what to say to you. That could cost you your job.’
‘It doesn’t matter, Eddie. You and me go back a lot further than any of them, now.’
I got up and walked the three steps to where he sat and slowly offered my hand. He took it. Neither of us spoke.
I went to the kitchen to get some alcohol.
Mac nodded a yes to the cognac and I poured, then sat back and sipped whiskey. I said, ‘Before I got your message in the car, I’d decided it was time to get more involved in this. I’ll see Ben at Aintree tomorrow, he’s been invited by Monty Bearak. I’d been thinking of sitting down with him and trying to figure something out…split the workload somehow.’
‘Eddie, if you do that now, Steel will believe there was some merit in Bradley’s suggestion.’
‘He obviously thought there was, anyway, or he wouldn’t have let him put it to you. Did they try to get you to promise not to tell me about it?’
‘They tried.’
‘And you said no?’
He nodded, then sipped his drink.
‘And Steel didn’t threaten you?’
‘No. He hadn’t thought it through. The last thing they expected was for me to go against them. They had no plan B.’
‘Well, they might be developing one now, so you’d better watch your back.’
‘Eddie, I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of the years and years of politics and bullshit. When Jean died, I began wondering what it was all about. I used to come home and moan to her about work, about office politics and she tried to be sympathetic, but I always felt there was some unspoken disappointment about the compromises I was making.’ His eye twitched and he looked away through the window then raised his glass again.
I said, ‘No point torturing yourself, Mac. We all do what we think is best at the time. None of us ever gets it dead right.’
He nodded, still looking into the distance. I said, ‘You thinking of quitting?’
He smiled and half laughed, ‘I’m thinking of taking a leaf from your book and causing havoc.’
‘You’ve made a good start.’
He laughed. I said, ‘Don’t bugger up your pension, old fella.’
‘Hmm, I suppose it is late in the day.’
‘I need you as an inside man, anyway.’
He watched me for a while then said, ‘You used to frustrate the hell out of me, but I always admired you…always.’
‘Now, Mac, I could have said that exact line. Listen, you’re tired, take it easy and don’t go all soft on me. It makes me uneasy when you’re not, what’s the word you use, curmudgeonly?’
His smile widened, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard you string so many syllables together.’
‘You won’t have. Not without a swear word fitted in somewhere.’
He raised his glass, ‘Here’s to curmudgeons.’
I toasted that. Mac finished his drink and said, ‘Do you think there is a way for you to get involved, to muck in with Ben Searcey on this? I could help, too.’
‘Let me talk to Ben tomorrow, and see where he is with it. In fact…’ I reached for my phone and found Ben’s number.
Ben answered on the first ring, ‘Eddie! I was going to call you, but I guessed you’d have enough to do after today.’
‘You guessed right, Ben. Could you use an apprentice?’
‘I could certainly use an extra pair of everything, ears, arms, legs. What are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking I shouldn’t have fobbed you off with this. I’m thinking I ought to carry my share of the weight.’
‘And I’m thinking you might be timing things just right.’
‘Go on?’
‘Well…I’d rather hold until tomorrow. I just need to do a bit more cross-checking.’
‘You onto something?’
I saw Mac perk up, and I smiled.
‘I could be. Just might be. But I don’t want to build up any hopes, so don’t mention anything to Vita for now, or to Dil, will you?’
‘I can’t mention anything, Ben, you haven’t told me!’
‘I know, I know. Just want a double-check on my sources. It’s my old training kicking in.’
‘You have sources?’
‘Well, resources, if I’m honest. An educated hunch beginning to gather some credibility through research, nothing more. We won’t be solving anything tomorrow, but we might just have a break.’
‘In the shape of?’
‘In the shape of a hunch, Eddie. You know what a hunch looks like, don’t you?’
I laughed, and Ben echoed it back at me. ‘Okay’, I said, ’see you tomorrow. Alice all set?’
’She is. Handbags and gladrags.’
‘Binoculars?’
‘Pretty useless for the National. All you see is horses’ arses for most of it.’
‘True, and not just the animal kind. I’ll come up to Monty’s box as soon as I get there.’
‘Oh, you’re the resident tipster, aren’t you? I forgot.’
‘You’ll want to forget after I’ve tipped them, that’s for sure.’
He laughed, ‘See you tomorrow. By the way, Alice is still asking if Prim will be there?’
‘I’ll be speaking to Dil shortly. I’ll find out. But I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was Alice. How’s she been?’
’Tigerish, as ever. Has me following DJ’s old mates in and out of the bookies, still trying to get her evidence.’
‘As if you didn’t have enough to do.’
‘I’ve a feeling things are finally turning our way, Eddie. watch this space!’
‘See you tomorrow, Ben.’
‘You will. I’ll be whistling Dixie for ol’ Mizzy Vita.’
‘Ha! Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight.’
‘Good news?’ Mac asked, as I put the phone on the table.
‘Put it this way, it’s the most positive I’ve heard Ben since the old days.’
’No clue as to what he’s picked up?’
‘I don’t think it’s groundbreaking, Mac, but it sounds like a lead, something to latch onto properly.’
‘By God, I hope so,’ he picked up his glass, frowned when he saw it was empty, but raised it anyway, ’To leads!’
I returned the salute. Ben’s confidence had been a real boost, and I reached for my phone again and found Dil’s number.
34
Mave’s sharp elbow jabbed me out of a dream so vivid
I was unsure if I was truly awake. ‘Mave?’
‘Your phone is ringing.’
‘My phone?’
‘Your phone.’
‘Oh…where?’
‘Sounds like it’s in the kitchen.’
I rolled out of bed, ‘What time is it?’
‘It’s after one.’
‘Jeez…who…’ My phone was on the kitchen table, silent. I picked it up and did not recognize the number on the missed call message. Then it rang again.
‘Eddie?’
‘Who’s this?’
‘Eddie, it’s Prim. At Dil’s place.’
‘Prim, hello. What’s wrong?’
‘Alice just called me, Alice Searcey, she thinks something’s happened to her dad.’
‘To Ben? I spoke to him earlier. He was fine.’
‘He hasn’t come home. His phone is ringing out. He left no message. He’s never done this before.’
I finally woke up properly. ‘Did Alice leave a number?’
She gave me the number and asked me to call back after I’d spoken to Alice.
Alice answered on the first ring, ‘Alice, it’s Eddie, Eddie Malloy.’
‘Something’s happened to my dad!’
‘What? What’s happened?’
‘I don’t know! I just know something’s wrong. I know it. He hasn’t come home. He’s hurt somewhere. I know it!’
‘Look, Alice, listen, when did you last see him?’
‘He was here, at home when I went out this afternoon. He’d never stay out without calling me.’
‘I spoke to him. This evening. About seven, I’d say. He was in good form. He sounded great.’
‘Eddie, Listen! Listen! Listen! Something’s happened to him! Please believe me!’
‘Okay. All right. Are you on your own?’
‘Yes!’
‘At home?’
‘Yes, at home!’
‘Do you think you’re in any danger?’
‘I don’t give a shit about being in danger, I just need to find my dad!’
‘Have you called the police?’
’No! You know they won’t do anything! I called Prim, that was the only number I had of anybody I trusted. I didn’t have your number.’
