As we rounded the far bend, I took a pull and let Brennan come almost upside me before cutting in sharply and jamming him against the plastic running rail. I could hear him shouting a stream of obscenities as his ankle bounced off the rough pieces of plastic where the rail was held by the uprights, I didn't bother to look round and instead coolly picked off the leaders going down the steep hill and pinged the last to win hard held.
The roar from the stand told me that Willie and his muckers had got their money on and for a few brief seconds I was the toast of Limerick. The cheers that greeted me in the winners' enclosure brought back memories of Cheltenham and Gold Cup day.
1 weighed in and changed. Willie couldn't understand why I wanted to leave the course straight away and seemed surprised when I asked him to escort me to my car.
'The bookies won't lynch you, you know. They're a friendly bunch here, even if you have taken thirty thousand out of the ring!'
I smiled, seeing no need to tell him that it was Eamon Brennan whom I really feared.
'My darling,' Willie put his arm around me paternally as I unlocked the car door. 'You were magnificent. Are you sure you won't come to the stables tonight for the party? It'll be one hell of a hooly.'
'I wish I could, Willie, but I've already accepted an invitation from friends in Kilmallock.'
'Bring them along too.'
'They're teetotal.'
'No problem, we've all been vaccinated against it!'
'No, it's just not possible, but thanks all the same. And thanks again for the ride.'
'The gratitude's all mine,' he replied, throwing what looked like a wad of Irish punts onto the back seat, 'and if you ever want a job over here just give us a call. Shaun will understand.'
I'm sure he will if he gets that well paid every time I ride a winner, I thought to myself.
Five minutes later and with no sign of Brennan I was on the road to Limerick town and the first step on the way to my rendezvous with the elusive Corcoran. I killed an hour or so walking round the town and by the time I arrived at Mrs Moloney's tea rooms it was fairly crowded. I was shown to a small table in the corner and a pretty, dark-haired waitress took my order.
Over on the other side of the room I could see Amy hiding behind a copy of The Irish Times, doing her best to appear inconspicuous. I had been told to wait at the tea shop for further instructions and that was just what I proposed to do. I wondered whether they would be delivered over the phone or by written message. I looked inquiringly at the middle-aged woman behind the till, whom I took to be Mrs Moloney by the way she shouted commands at the waitresses and asked the customers if they had enjoyed their tea. She smiled back and turned away. My pot of tea and two pieces of toast arrived. Twenty minutes later, having finished both, I was beginning to feel like a prize lemon and tried desperately to catch Amy's eye. I was sure she could see me, although she steadfastly refused to give any acknowledgement of my presence. Perhaps she thought Corcoran might be watching us, but unless he was under one of the tables, he was nowhere to be seen.
What, I wondered, if the whole thing was a practical joke and we were out here on a wild goose chase? At least I hadn't parted with any money; in fact, as a result of the race, I was another thousand-odd pounds better off. I looked over again at Amy and saw Mrs Moloney talking to her. Amy was shaking her head and for a brief second she lifted up her hand as if to indicate in my direction, but then just stopped herself in time. Mrs Moloney was carrying a letter in her hand and now walked over towards me.
'You're not Victoria Pryde, by any chance, are you?' she asked.
I nodded.
'Well that's good, because I've just asked that young lady over there and I was beginning to worry that there'd been some mistake. I've a letter here for you which I was asked to hand over at five o'clock on the dot. A friend of yours, perhaps?' She winked knowingly as she handed it over.
I just smiled, took it from her and waited until she was behind the till again before opening it. The instructions had been typed out: 'Leave here and drive out of Limerick in the direction of Tipperary. After half a mile, take a left turning signposted Kilconnell. Go through the village, and then take the third turning on the right signposted Tipperary. After two miles turn right at a crossroads and after another two miles you will come across a track on the left, leading to Milligan's Farm. Drive down the track, park in front of the farm and enter by the back door.'
I began to feel tense and uncomfortable. One thing Amy and I had omitted from our plans was how I was to pass on any further directions. She couldn't just walk out of the tearooms behind me, as Corcoran could be watching me for all we knew. My only course was to copy out the instructions and leave the original piece of paper behind where Amy was bound to find it. The waitress was hovering near my table waiting to clear up; by now there was only one other couple and Amy still having tea. In a voice loud enough for Amy to hear I asked the waitress where the lavatory was and then paid it a visit.
There was no obvious place to hide the letter other than in the cistern, which was black and peeling and could be reached only by standing on the seat. I climbed up, lifted the cover off and put the letter on the top of the ballcock. I just had to hope it wouldn't slip into the water. As I was about to open the door, it dawned on me that if I didn't pull the chain someone – I didn't stop to think who – might regard it as suspicious. I therefore recovered the letter, pulled the chain and then replaced it again inside the cistern. It was obvious I would make a lousy secret agent.
I washed my hands and returned to the main room and paid my bill. Although I caught Amy glancing at me, I pretended not to notice her. I followed the directions without any problems, and twenty minutes later, after resisting a plaintive voice from within telling me to turn around, I arrived at the front of Milligan's farm.
The building was semi-derelict; at least two of the windows on the first floor were smashed and vandalised. The farmhouse had the dilapidated air of having been uninhabited for months if not years, and I prayed hard that Amy had used her imagination and found those directions. I reluctantly got out of the car, taking the bottle of ammonia in one hand and clutching my handbag with the two thousand pounds in the other. I had already hidden Willie's wad of fifty-pound notes inside my bra. I walked, or rather tiptoed, round the side of the house, avoiding the weeds and what looked like stinging nettles. The back door was closed. Before opening it, I peered through the least dirty of the panes of glass in the window immediately to its right. Over in the far corner I could see what appeared to be an old stove and on top of it a frying pan.
I turned the handle and pushed open the door. It creaked under the pressure and I stepped gingerly over the threshold and into what had once been the kitchen. I paused and listened. Not a sound. 'Is anyone here?' I called out, the words fighting to stay in my throat. Still that dreadful silence. I walked across the kitchen and into the hall. By the front door were a couple of circulars from which I learnt that a Mr O'Malley had once lived there. I opened the nearest door and found myself in what had been the sitting room. In the hearth were the remnants of a log fire and dozens of cigarette ends. Now for the stairs. I took each step as slowly and deliberately as if it led to the gallows and clung tightly to my bottle of ammonia. I was sweating terribly; my heart was pounding as if at ramming speed. I was forcing myself to look in all the rooms – I owed that much to Tom – and then I was going to run down those stairs, out of the back door and drive to Limerick as if the devil himself was chasing me. Amy will be here by now, I told myself. There's no way she wouldn't be within shouting distance, probably a few yards down the drive. I pressed on. There were only four doors, thank goodness. The first three rooms were empty. Just one left. I thought I heard a noise.