The time, when I looked at my watch, was two o'clock. I felt hungry, and regretted that I hadn't had enough sense to bring some of the chocolate.
I lay in the ditch all afternoon, hearing nothing, but waiting for the horse box to start up and drive away. After a while in spite of the cold and the presence of Jud Wilson, I had great difficulty in keeping awake; a ridiculous state of affairs which could only be remedied by action. Accordingly I rolled over on to my stomach and inch by careful inch raised my head high enough to see across to Kandersteg and the shed.
Jud Wilson was again sitting on the gate. He must have seen my movements out of the corner of his eye, because he looked away from Kandersteg, who stood in front of him, and turned his head in my direction. For a fleeting second it seemed that he was looking straight into my eyes: then his gaze swept on past me, and presently, un-suspiciously, returned to Kandersteg.
I let my held breath trickle out slowly, fighting down a cough.
The horse was still sweating, the dark patches showing up starkly, but there was a less fixed look about him, and while I watched he swished his tail and restlessly shook his neck. He was over the hump.
More cautiously still, I lowered my head and chest down again on to my folded arms, and waited some more.
Soon after four Adams and Humber came back in the Jaguar, and again, like a rabbit out of its burrow, I edged up for a look.
They decided to take the horse home. Jud Wilson backed the horse box to the gate and let down the ramp, and Kandersteg, sticking in his feet at every step, was eventually pulled and prodded into it. The poor beast's distress was all too evident, even from across the field. I liked horses. I found I was wholly satisfied that because of me Adams and Humber and Wilson were going to be out of business.
Gently I lay down again, and after a short while I heard both the engines first the Jaguar's and then the horse box's start up and drive off, back towards Posset.
When the sound of them had died away I stood up, stretched, brushed the leaf mould from my clothes, and walked round the field to look at the shed.
It was fastened shut with a complicated looking padlock, but through the window I could see it held little besides the flame thrower, some cans presumably holding fuel, a large tin funnel and three garden chairs folded and stacked against one wall. There seemed little point in breaking in, though it would have been simple enough since the padlock fittings had been screwed straight on to the surface of the door and its surround. The screwdriver blade of my penknife could have removed the whole thing, fussy padlock intact. Crooks, I reflected, could be as fantastically dim in some ways as they were imaginative in others.
I went through the gate into Kandersteg's little enclosure. The grass where he had stood was scorched. The inside surfaces of the rails had been painted white, so that they resembled racecourse rails. I stood for a while looking at them, feeling a second-hand echo of the misery the horse had endured in that harmless looking place, and then let myself out and walked away, round past my hiding place in the ditch and off towards the motor-cycle. I picked it up, hooked the crash helmet on to the handle bars, and started the engine.
So that was the lot, I thought. My job was done. Safely, quietly, satisfactorily done. As it should be. Nothing remained but to complete yesterday's report and put the final facts at the Stewards' disposal.
I coasted back to the place from where I had kept a watch on Humber's yard, but there was no one there. Either Beckett had not got my letter or had not been able to send any help, or the help, if it had arrived, had got tired of waiting and departed. The rug, suitcase and remains of food lay where I had left them, undisturbed.
On an impulse, before packing up and leaving the area, I unzipped my jacket and took out the binoculars to have a last look down into the yard.
What I saw demolished in one second flat my complacent feeling of safety and completion.
A scarlet sports car was turning into the yard. It stopped beside Adams' grey Jaguar, a door opened, and a girl got out. I was too far away to distinguish her features but there was no mistaking that familiar car and that dazzling silver blonde hair. She slammed the car door and walked hesitantly towards the office, out of my sight.
I swore aloud. Of all damnable, unforeseeable, dangerous things to happen! I hadn't told Elinor anything. She thought I was an ordinary stable lad. I had borrowed a dog whistle from her. And she was October's daughter. What were the chances, I wondered numbly, of her keeping quiet on the last two counts and not giving Adams the idea that she was a threat to him.
She ought to be safe enough, I thought. Reasonably, she ought to be safe as long as she made it clear that it was I who knew the significance of dog whistles, and not her.
But supposing she didn't make it clear? Adams never behaved reasonably, to start with. His standards were not normal. He was psychopathic. He could impulsively kill a journalist who seemed to be getting too nosy. What was to stop him killing again, if he got it into his head that it was necessary?
I would give her three minutes, I thought. If she asked for me, and was told I had left, and went straight away again, everything would be all right.
I willed her to return from the office and drive away in her car. I doubted whether in any case if Adams were planning to harm her I could get her out safely, since the odds against, in the shape of Adams, Humber, Wilson and Cass, were too great for common sense. I wasn't too keen on having to try. But the three minutes went past, and the red car stood empty in the yard.
She had stayed to talk and she had no notion that there was anything which should not be said. If I had done as I had wanted and told her why I was at Humber's, she would not have come at all. It was my fault she was there. I had clearly got to do my best to see she left again in mint condition. There was no choice.
I put the binoculars in the suitcase and left it and the rug where it was. Then, zipping up the jacket and fastening on the crash helmet, I restarted the bike and rode it down and round and in through Humber's gate.
I left the bike near the gate and walked across towards the yard, passing the shed where the horse box was kept. The doors were shut, and there was no sign of Jud Wilson. Perhaps he had already gone home, and I hoped so. I went into the yard at the top end beside the wall of the office, and saw Cass at the opposite end looking over the door of the fourth box from the left. Kandersteg was home.
Adam's Jaguar and Elinor's T.R.4 stood side by side in the centre of the yard. Lads were hustling over their evening jobs, and everything looked normal and quiet.
I opened the office door, and walked in.
Chapter 17.
So much for my fears, I thought. So much for my melodramatic imagination. She was perfectly safe. She held a half empty glass of pink liquid in her hand, having a friendly drink with Adams and Humber, and she was smiling.
Humber's heavy face looked anxious, but Adams was laughing and enjoying himself. It was a picture which printed itself clearly on my mind before they all three turned and looked at me.
'Daniel!' Elinor exclaimed. 'Mr Adams said you had gone.'
'Yes. I left something behind. I came back for it.'
'Lady Elinor Tarren,' said Adams with deliberation, coming round behind me, closing the door and leaning against it, 'came to see if you had conducted the experiment she lent you her dog whistle for.'
It was just as well, after all, that I had gone back.
'Oh, surely I didn't say that,' she protested. 'I just came to get the whistle, if Daniel had finished with it. I mean, I was passing, and I thought I could save him the trouble of sending it...'
I turned to him. 'Lady Elinor Tarren,' I said with equal deliberation, 'does not know what I borrowed her whistle for. I didn't tell her. She knows nothing about it.'
His eyes narrowed and then opened into a fixed stare. His jaw bunched. He took in the way I had spoken to him, the way I looked at him. It was not what he was used to from me. He transferred his stare to Elinor.
'Leave her alone,' I said. 'She doesn't know.'
'What on earth are you talking about?' said Elinor, smiling. 'What was this mysterious experiment, anyway?'
'It wasn't important,' I said. 'There's... er... there's a deaf lad here, and we wanted to know if he could hear high pitched noises, that's all.'
'Oh,' she said, 'and could he?'
I shook my head. 'I'm afraid not.'
'What a pity.' She took a drink, and ice tinkled against the glass. 'Well, if you've no more use for it, do you think I could have my whistle back?'
'Of course.' I dug into my money belt, brought out the whistle, and gave it to her. I saw Humber's astonishment and Adams' spasm of fury that Humber's search had missed so elementary a hiding place.
'Thank you,' she said, putting the whistle in her pocket. 'What are your plans now? Another stable job? You know,' she said to Humber, smiling, 'I'm surprised you let him go. He rode better than any lad we've ever had in Father's stables. You were lucky to have him.'
I had not ridden well for Humber. He began to say heavily, 'He's not all that good...' when Adams smoothly interrupted him.
'I think we have underestimated Roke, Hedley. Lady Elinor, I am sure Mr Humber will take him back on your recommendation, and never let him go again.'
'Splendid,' she said warmly.
Adams was looking at me with his hooded gaze to make sure I had appreciated his little joke. I didn't think it very funny.
'Take your helmet off,' he said. 'You're indoors and in front of a lady. Take it off.'
'I think I'll keep it on,' I said equably. And I could have done with a full suit of armour to go with it. Adams was not used to me contradicting him, and he shut his mouth with a snap.
Humber said, puzzled, 'I don't understand why you bother with Roke, Lady Elinor. I thought your father got rid of him for... well... molesting you.'
'Oh no,' she laughed. 'That was my sister. But it wasn't true, you know. It was all made up.' She swallowed the last of her drink and with the best will in the world put the finishing touches to throwing me to the wolves. 'Father made me promise not to tell anyone that it was all a story, but as you're Daniel's employer you really ought to know that he isn't anything like as bad as he lets everyone believe.'
There was a short, deep silence. Then I said, smiling, 'That's the nicest reference I've ever had... you're very kind.'
'Oh dear,' she laughed. 'You know what I mean... and I can't think why you don't stick up for yourself more.'
'It isn't always advisable,' I said, and raised an eyebrow at Adams. He showed signs of not appreciating my jokes either. He took Elinor's empty glass.
'Another gin and campari?' he suggested.
'No thank you, I must be going.'
He put her glass down on the desk with his own, and said, 'Do you think Roke would be the sort of man who'd need to swallow tranquillizers before he found the nerve to look after a difficult horse?'
'Tranquillizers? Tranquillizers? Tranquillizers? Of course not. I shouldn't think he ever took a tranquillizer in his life. Did you?' she said, turning to me and beginning to look puzzled. Of course not. I shouldn't think he ever took a tranquillizer in his life. Did you?' she said, turning to me and beginning to look puzzled.
'No,' I said. I was very anxious for her to be on her way before her puzzlement grew any deeper. Only while she suspected nothing and learned nothing was she safe enough.
'But you said...' began Humber, who was still unenlightened.
'It was a joke. Only a joke,' I told him. 'Mr Adams laughed about it quite a lot, if you remember.'
'That's true. I laughed,' said Adams sombrely. At least he seemed willing for her ignorance to remain undisturbed, and to let her go.
'Oh,' Elinor's face cleared. 'Well... I suppose I'd better be getting back to college. I'm going to Slaw tomorrow for the week-end... do you have any message for my father, Daniel?'
It was a casual, social remark, but I saw Adams stiffen.
I shook my head.
'Well... it's been very pleasant, Mr Humber. Thank you so much for the drink. I hope I haven't taken too much of your time.'
She shook Humber's hand, and Adams', and finally mine.
'How lucky you came back for something. I thought I'd missed you... and that I could whistle for my whistle.' She grinned.
I laughed. 'Yes, it was lucky.'
'Goodbye then. Goodbye Mr Humber,' she said, as Adams opened the door for her. She said goodbye to him on the doorstep, where he remained, and over Humber's shoulder I watched through the window as she walked across to her car. She climbed in, started the engine, waved gaily to Adams, and drove out of the yard. My relief at seeing her go was even greater than my anxiety about getting out myself.
Adams stepped inside, shut the door, locked it, and put the key in his pocket. Humber was surprised. He still did not understand.
He said, staring at me, 'You know, Roke doesn't seem the same. And his voice is different.'
'Roke, damn him to hell, is God knows what.'
The only good thing in the situation that I could see was that I no longer had to cringe when he spoke to me. It was quite a relief to be able to stand up straight for a change. Even if it didn't last long.
'Do you mean it is Roke, and not Elinor Tarren after all, who knows about the whistle?'
'Of course,' said Adams impatiently. 'For Christ's sake, don't you understand anything? It looks as though October planted him on us, though how in hell he knew...'
'But Roke is only a stable lad.'
'Only,' said Adams savagely. 'But that doesn't make it any better. Stable lads have tongues, don't they? And eyes? And look at him. He's not the stupid worm he's always seemed.'
'No one would take his word against yours,' said Humber.
'No one is going to take his word at all.'
'What do you mean?'
'I'm going to kill him,' said Adams.
'I suppose that might be more satisfactory.' Humber sounded as if he were discussing putting down a horse.
'It won't help you,' I said. 'I've already sent a report to the Stewards.'
'We were told that once before,' said Humber, 'but it wasn't true.'
'It is, this time.'
Adams said violently, 'Report or no report, I'm going to kill him. There are other reasons...' He broke off, glared at me and said, 'You fooled me. Me Me. How?'
I didn't reply. It hardly seemed a good time for light conversation.
'This one,' said Humber reflectively, 'has a motor-cycle.'
I remembered that the windows in the office's wash room were all too small to escape through. The door to the yard was locked, and Humber stood in front of his desk, between me and the window. Yelling could only bring Cass, not the poor rabble of lads who didn't even know I was there, and wouldn't bother to help me in any case. Both Adams and Humber were taller and heavier than I was, Adams a good deal so. Humber had his stick and I didn't know what weapon Adams proposed to use; and I had never been in a serious fight in my life. The next few minutes were not too delightful a prospect.
On the other hand I was younger than they, and, thanks to the hard work they had exacted, as fit as an athlete. Also I had the crash helmet. And I could throw things... perhaps the odds weren't impossible, after all.
A polished wooden chair with a leather seat stood by the wall near the door. Adams picked it up and walked towards me. Humber, remaining still, slid his stick through his hands and held it ready.
I felt appallingly vulnerable.
Adams' eyes were more opaque than I had ever seen them, and the smile which was growing on his mouth didn't reach them. He said loudly, 'We might as well enjoy it. They won't look too closely at a burnt-out smash.'
He swung the chair. I dodged it all right but in doing so got within range of Humber, whose stick landed heavily on top of my shoulder, an inch from my ear. I stumbled and fell, and rolled: and stood up just in time to avoid the chair as Adams crashed it down. One of the legs broke off as it hit the floor, and Adams bent down and picked it up. A solid, straight, square edged chair leg with a nasty sharp point where it had broken from the seat.