by Joe McNally
‘Sure. Of course!’ He drew a chair out.
‘How’s your luck?’ Ben asked him, ’Still punting?’
‘Can’t see me ever giving that up, Ben. I’m doing okay. Had a good Cheltenham. Aintree was so so. I’m probably in front for the season, though I suppose everybody says that.’
Ben said, ‘You’ll be doing better now you’re away from all the duff information on the racecourse. Owners, trainers and jockeys are the worst tipsters known to man.’
Calum smiled, ‘One or two of them are okay. You just need to be careful who you ask.’
The awkwardness that had been in the air stretched itself into a silence, and I resisted filling it, knowing it would have to come out at some point and the sooner the better.
Ben looked across at Calum and said, ‘Listen, Eddie told me what happened between you and Monty and I wanted to say I’m sorry for my part. If I hadn’t been there, it wouldn’t have happened.’
‘That’s okay, Ben. It’s a long time ago now. I just wanted you to know that Sir Monty made a mistake that day, and I think he knows it and I believe that’s why he went mad when he saw you were halfway through that bottle.’
Ben reached to touch his arm, ‘Listen, it’s done now. Water under the bridge, as they say.’
‘I know it’s done, Ben, but it’s important to me that you know I did my job properly that day. I knew that non-alcoholic bottle was for you. We had to order it in special. It’s not the easiest thing to get. Still isn’t. Worse thing they do is try and make the label and everything look as though it’s no different from the normal bubbly.’
Ben said, ‘It would have happened anyway. I’d been dry too long back then. I could have set it aside after the first glass. I just used it as an excuse.’
‘But if Sir Monty had let me pour, it wouldn’t have happened. He insisted on doing it himself. I’ve been over this a million times in my head. He must have picked up the wrong bottle. Must have.’
Ben said, ‘I believe you. I’m just sorry for how it turned out for all three of us. You lost your job. Monty’s been feeling guilty about me ever since. I wouldn’t want you to think too badly of him. The guy’s a gem, believe me.’
Ben didn’t glance at me. He wasn’t risking me pitching in to question him. But if he expected Calum to agree with him and reassure him, it didn’t work out, because Calum just nodded slightly, folded his arms on the table and looked down.
Ben touched his arm again, ‘Listen, I told Eddie this earlier. I was completely out of it that day, and Monty booked me a hotel room, got one of his guys to take me there, put me to bed, pay the bill, and then, listen to this, next day Monty turns up and hands me fourteen grand cash. Fourteen grand! I’d put money in the jackpot syndicate and forgot all about it and we won the jackpot.’
Calum’s face changed. He went from humouring Ben with a pleasant look to a sudden quizzical frown and he glanced at me then back at Ben, who kept on, ‘Must have been about twenty of us in it and Monty collected my share and brought it next day. I’d never have known. Never.’
Calum straightened, staring at Ben. Ben said, ‘Believe me! Honestly, that’s what happened!’
Calum said, ‘I believe you, Ben. But the fourteen grand he brought you didn’t come from a jackpot win, I can tell you that.’
It was Ben’s turn to look quizzical, ‘What do you mean?’
‘The jackpot wasn’t won that day. More than a hundred and fifty grand was carried forward to the Monday. I remember it well because I got sacked and then I had the first four winners in the Jackpot and I started dreaming about marching back into that box after racing and telling Sir Monty where to stick it. But I went down in the next leg, like everyone else when that fifty to one chance got up to beat the favourite.’
Ben just kept staring at him. Calum unfolded his arms and drummed lightly on the table with his fingers. He said, ‘Whatever Sir Monty felt he owed you fourteen grand for, it wasn’t for winning the Tote jackpot.’
66
Calum left us to talk things through. He sent a waiter to take our order, but Ben’s appetite from this morning had been dampened considerably by Calum’s news about the jackpot. He said to the waiter, ‘I’ll just have some soup, if that’s okay?’
When the waiter left, Ben said to me, ‘Should we ask Calum to keep this quiet for now?’
‘I’ll speak to him before I go. I’d been hoping we’d get him talking about Monty and what he’d seen and heard over the years, but we’re going to have to be really careful now.’
Ben nodded, watching me vacantly, looking but not seeing. I said, ‘Playing things back in your head?’
He blinked and focused again, ‘I didn’t imagine fourteen grand, Eddie. I know what I spent it on and I know what that did to me.’
‘And maybe that was the plan.’
‘For Monty to fund a long bender?’
I nodded. He opened his arms, ‘Why? Where’s the sense? What’s the motive? He’s done nothing but protect me since we met again.’
‘A guilty conscience. Or maybe he wants to keep a very close eye on what you’re doing now that you’re sober again…Could be both, I suppose.’
Ben reached an open hand toward me, as though expecting me to place in it some proof. He said, ‘Why, though? Why? That’s the big missing piece in the jigsaw…the main piece.’
‘Well, I know you can’t remember if you asked Monty about the articles you were working on back then, but let’s assume you did. It was about corruption in sport, right?’
‘Right.’
‘And the part you’d reached was investigating the purchase of bookmaker pitches on racecourses?’
‘Correct.’
‘Could Monty have been involved with those purchases?’
‘It’s not impossible. He’s in the business of money lending, at the end of the day.’
‘Money lending? I thought he was a trader in currency markets?’
‘He tried some of that when he finished business school, but I don’t think he was much good at it. He bought a few small independent companies who lend money to accountants and lawyers and professionals along those lines, dentists, doctors…reliable people.’
‘Big money?’
‘I think so. But very low risk. Monty was just a broker, essentially.’
‘Why would they borrow from Monty? Why not go to a bank?’
‘No hoops to jump through with Monty. A lot of these people borrow to pay their tax bills. Banks don’t lend on that.’
I watched him, ‘How do you know this? Have you questioned Monty about it?’
‘Not in any detail. When we first met, he asked me if any of the top journalists might be ripe for approaching.’
‘As customers?’
Ben half-smiled and nodded, ‘He had the mistaken idea I was earning a lot of money back then…well, I suppose I was. I just didn’t realize it.’
‘If he lent to professionals, Kelman Hines must come into that picture, as a vet, I mean.’
‘I suppose.’
‘And Hines was pretty ambitious, obviously, if he was splashing out on labs and high-tech.’
Ben shrugged, ‘I don’t know, Eddie. I got the impression it was mostly short-term stuff Monty did.’
I groaned and massaged my face. Ben said, ‘Maybe you’re trying to fit too many things together here, Eddie. Prim started all this, remember? What is it you’re thinking? Even if Monty did want to keep me quiet and stop me asking questions about those pitches, what’s that got to do with Hines? They’re separate issues, aren’t they?’
‘Except that Bruno pointed me right in Hines’s direction when I asked him who the top man was in the trafficking racket. And that around the same time as Bruno was telling me that, someone was changing the owner’s name on the shell company that owns Wannabet Bookmakers, changing it to Kelman Hines. And the combination of those two led us into finding you, who, by way of another ridiculous coincidence that lines up with the previous two, was being moved t
o the place we’d find you. Do you swallow all that, really?’
‘Maybe Bruno was acting on his own?’
I opened my hands, ‘Oh. Come on, Ben! You know Bruno does nothing without Monty telling him to.’
Ben looked over my shoulder and nodded in warning. I turned to see the waiter bringing the soup. ‘Can I refresh your drinks?’ the waiter said.
‘No, thanks,’ said Ben.
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ I said, ‘But maybe you could ask Calum to come and see us if he’s not busy?’
‘Of course, sir.’
When he’d gone, Ben said, ‘What are you going to say to Calum?’
‘I’m going to ask him to keep all this to himself. If Monty finds out that somebody knows he lied to the tune of fourteen grand, the first guy he’ll want to talk to is you.’
‘Maybe that’s no bad thing, Eddie. I can’t see how we’re going to get to the bottom of this without talking to Monty…I just can’t.’
I looked at Ben, trying to come up with an argument against what he’d said. He spoke again, ‘Put it this way, if you’re right, and Monty’s involved, he can’t mean me any harm, nor you. He’s had plenty chances to do all the damage he wanted.’
I nodded, ‘Maybe you’re right, Ben…maybe you’re right.’
‘Well, why don’t we just go and see him?’
‘And say what?’ I asked.
‘And say, Monty, where did that fourteen grand come from?’
67
Fifty miles into our journey home, Mac’s name lit up on my phone. I hesitated…was there anything I didn’t want Ben to hear on the speaker?
I answered. Mac said, ‘You’re on hands free by the sound of it. I take it you’re driving?’
I resisted sarcasm, ‘I am, Mac. All well?’
‘You know we’ve got this new formal end to the season at Sandown week after next?’
‘Uhuh.’
‘I was thinking it would be good to tie all this wild horses stuff up so that everyone can relax on the last day.’
‘That would be good, Mac. By the way, Ben’s with me, Ben Searcey.’
They exchanged brief greetings then Mac said to me, ‘I’d like to go and see Hines in the next forty-eight hours.’
‘Officially? For questioning?’
‘Yes.’
I glanced at Ben. He shrugged me a “why not?” and I said, ‘Fair enough.’
‘Good. What else do you know?’ Mac asked.
‘What I know and what I’ve been told are looking like two different things at the moment. We’re going to make some calls in the morning to see if we can filter out the crap.’
‘What crap?’
‘The crap that we’re trying to see through. Like the crap that’s covering my windscreen just now…shit and squashed insects.’
‘Very poetic. Should I be told about any of said crap before I speak to our man?’
‘I can give you a better answer at this time tomorrow, I hope.’
‘I’ll look forward to it.’
‘Okay. I’ll call you.’
Mac said his goodbyes and the soft light of the phone screen faded to dark. I said to Ben, ‘I mentioned to Monty that you wanted to buy him lunch…as a thank you. Why don’t you invite him to lunch tomorrow?’
‘Just me and Monty?’
‘Me, too.’
‘Okay. Where?’
‘Let Monty choose.’
Ben shifted in his seat, ‘Eddie, can you lend me enough to pay for the lunch?’
‘I’ll pay. Or should I say Vita will pay. You’re still employed by her until we hear different, and this is part of your investigation.’
Ben folded his arms and slid lower in his seat, ‘Well, I won’t argue.’
Mave phoned, ‘Will you be home soon?’
‘Half an hour. You found something?’
‘Managed to trace the previous owner of Wannabet, and probably still the owner, by the look of it.’
‘Go on.’
‘A company owned by Sir Montague Bearak.’
I looked at Ben. He looked to the heavens. I said, ‘Nice one, Mave.’
‘He has seventeen other shell companies, all of them own small groups of regional independent bookmakers across the UK.’
‘It’s beginning to make some sense, now, Mave, isn’t it?’
‘Money laundering. Big time,’ she said.
‘Looks like it. Ben told me Monty’s upfront business is money lending. High level money lending. A broker dealing with respectable clients.’
‘Nice front. I had a look at it. All squeaky clean, and very profitable.’
‘Brilliant work, Mave.’
‘Thanks. You can pour me a celebratory drink when you get home.’
‘Gladly. See you soon.’
I turned to Ben. He said, ‘I can’t believe it…I mean, I believe it, but I’m, well, I don’t know…’
‘That first piece you did, the one Mave found online, was about money laundering, wasn’t it? As part of your work on corruption in sport.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Maybe that was what set Monty off. We were on the wrong track with the on-course betting pitches.’
‘Not necessarily,’ said Ben. ‘The on-course pitches could have been used as a front for cleaning money, just as easily as the betting shops. In fact, they could shift a lot of the big sums through those pitches, the types of bets that are hard to get on with small independents.’
‘But how could all the betting shops survive so long if they were taking losses through payouts to crooks? Whatever way they did it, the books still need to be balanced.’
Ben said, ‘But if the crooks own the shops through a shell company then they can theoretically lose thousands as well. Supposing a guy has five losing bets at ten grand apiece, then the crook has a supposed winning bet for forty grand. He has a receipt for it to show the cops, but what they don’t know is that he has also put the original fifty grand in to pay for it. No need for the bookie to identify the loser of the fifty grand. Not technically, anyway, for accounts purposes.’
‘But you said there was some new Act where bookies had to declare any turnover they thought was suspicious, what was it?’
‘The Proceeds of Crime Act. The one that Wannabet wasn’t following, and you can bet your life these other small companies were doing exactly the same.’
We travelled in silence for a minute, then Ben said, ‘Eddie, I know I’ve worn you out by constantly defending Monty, but I just can’t see any reasoning in this. I can’t. Can you?’
‘He’s a rich man who wants to stay rich.’
‘For what? He gives fortunes to charity. Why not keep it if he wants to stay rich?’
‘Because it’s a great front for a criminal. It bought the man a knighthood, didn’t it?’
‘But what else? He’s got a couple of horses and a couple of cars. He didn’t spend crazy money on either. He never married. Lives in a nice house, but hardly a mansion. He’s never been a playboy. His biggest extravagance has been his private boxes on racecourses and entertaining his friends there.’
‘Ben, the man could have hundreds of millions stashed in these shell companies. You probably don’t know a fraction of what he’s been up to.’
‘I grew up with him. He was always one for helping people…always a peacemaker. He felt guilty about leaving our school to go to the private school when his old man won the pools. He was embarrassed when that happened…almost ashamed.’
‘How long ago was that, though?’
Ben paused then said, ‘How long since you were a kid, Eddie?’
‘Long time. Feels like a long time, anyway.’
‘And how much have you changed?’
‘Completely.’
‘Really? Everything you believed in? All the things you felt strongly about?’
‘Well, they haven’t changed, but they don’t, do they? That’s your character. You’re born with it.’
‘Just you? Not Monty?’<
br />
I looked at him, ‘Ben, what do you want me to say here? Do I need to roll this out from the start? From Monty getting you drunk in his box, all the way through what’s happened in Deadwood, then on to his ownership of a bunch of betting shops which you yourself discovered are laundering money? How much circumstantial evidence is going to be enough for you?’
Ben went quiet for a mile, then said, ‘So, what’s the plan?’
‘I think it’s time to give it to Mac, now, lock, stock and barrel.’
‘Prim, too?’
I sighed long and low, ‘Dil reckons he’s found a way out for Prim.’
‘Well, give me a chance to find a way out for Monty.’
I pulled onto the hard shoulder and pressed the hazard lights switch. Ben turned to face me. I said, ‘Where am I supposed to stop here, Ben? When do I call it quits? Is anybody going to take the blame for this massive fucking mess?’
‘Let me go and see Monty on my own and have this out with him.’
‘You don’t think Bruno will end up taking you for a car ride?’
‘No. I don’t.’
‘Are you going to reel off all the evidence?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then he’ll either tell you to phone the cops to come and get him or he’ll have you killed.’
‘At least I get to find out why he did it.’
‘What about Alice?’
He smiled and raised a finger, ‘That’s a mean trick, Eddie. Emotional blackmail.’
I put my hand up. ‘Guilty. Happy to plead that way to save you from yourself.’
He said, ‘Alice would want me to do this.’
‘I very much doubt it, Ben.’
‘Okay. We’ll ask her. If she says no, you can call the police.’
I watched him. He held my gaze, confident. Too confident. I said, ‘No. You go and see Monty. But I come with you.’ Ben smiled and offered his hand to close the deal.
68
Next morning, Ben was nervy about calling Monty. He pushed his breakfast around the plate. When he did take a mouthful, he chewed for a long time. I said, ‘You’ll be fine.’
