‘Did they find a virus in it?’
‘No. They said a virus wouldn’t last very long out of a body. They apparently don’t use the word “live” with viruses, as viruses can’t go on working or reproducing, or whatever it is they do, once they’re away from a living host cell. It’s all a bit complicated, it seems to me. Anyway, Patrick wants to know where the tubes came from.’
‘From Pontefract service station in Yorkshire. Before that, I don’t know.’
I told her what I’d learned from Lynn Melissa Ogden, relict of Kevin Keith.
‘Poor woman,’ I said. ‘They led a wretched existence.’
‘There are so many awful lives. And you never expect it when you’re starting.’
I told her about my confrontation with Dave, earlier that morning.
‘So you were right!’ she exclaimed. ‘You said he had to have arranged that hitchhiker in advance.’
‘Mm. But he didn’t react when I asked him what Kevin Keith was carrying. I’m sure he didn’t know.’
‘So it couldn’t have been him who came in the black balaclava to search the cab.’
‘I’m certain it wasn’t. He wouldn’t have needed to disguise himself. He could have come back openly. He was hoping for his pay to be left in the cab, but, not surprisingly, it wasn’t. The person who came disguised was searching, not leaving an envelope.’
‘So who was it?’
‘Good question.’ I thought a bit. ‘There are two minds at work here. Two at least,’ I said. ‘One is logical but destructive. The other’s as illogical as a poltergeist.’
‘Two at least? You mean, more than two?’
‘I think it was two men who dropped me into the Southampton Docks. One was male, certainly. And they carried me easily. But the person who arranged the transport of the virus medium was female.’
‘Or falsetto?’
‘What would be the point? And not easy to do.’ I paused. ‘What we don’t know,’ I said, ‘is whether Kevin Keith was supposed to take the virus medium with him when he got off at Chieveley, or whether he was supposed to leave it in the cab so that it would arrive in Pixhill. Arrive here at the farmyard, that is. Also we don’t know whether there was in fact any virus in the tubes on the way here, or whether someone in this general area had ordered the medium for future use.’
‘Oh Jeez.’
I fished in a pocket and gave her a folded piece of paper bearing the transcript of Jogger’s phone call.
‘Get Patrick Venables’ cockney friends to unscramble it,’ I suggested.
‘What cockney friends?’
‘He’s bound to know the London brotherhood.’
‘Such faith. All right.’ She read the words aloud. ‘Take a butcher’s at them nuns... ye Gods.’
‘Does it mean anything to you?’
‘Poland had the same five on a horse last summer... It’s all rubbish.’ She put the paper in her handbag. ‘No one came near us on the French trip,’ she said. ‘No one anywhere showed the slightest interest in the underside of the horsebox. Nigel said he didn’t like driving Phil’s super-six because it has heavier steering than his own. He approves of the one-man one-box arrangement and he likes driving for some trainers more than others. He would like to drive for the Watermeads more often, but Lewis is jealous if he does. Lewis drives for Benjy Usher too, but Nigel doesn’t like Benjy Usher’s ways. He says Harve told him he’ll be driving for a new trainer, a Mrs English, and he’s heard she’s a dragon.’
‘Mm.’ I smiled. ‘She’ll get on well with Nigel, all the same. He’ll chat her up. She’s demanding, but he’s tireless. By the end of the summer she won’t want anyone else.’
‘You go in for quite a lot of applied psychology,’ she observed, ‘pairing the drivers to the jobs.’
‘Happier drivers work better. It’s obvious. Happier trainers don’t employ my rivals.’
‘So it’s all for profit?’
‘And... um... no harm in all-round contentment, is there?’
‘I do see,’ she said, half mocking, ‘why everyone likes you.’
I sighed. ‘Not everyone, by a long shot.’ I stood up off the desk, pleased to talk to her but with things to get on with. ‘You’re not on the driving chart today, are you? You could take a day off after the French trip.’
‘I don’t want to. I’ll spend the morning here, looking around in general and available if you get a last-minute driving job.’
‘Fine. Good. Well, Isobel’s arrived.’ We’d both seen her car drive in. ‘Come and listen while I try to find out who knew that Dave would be going to Newmarket the day he picked up Kevin Keith.’
Her eyes widened in comprehension. ‘Like I said before,’ she said, ‘you don’t need me here.’
‘I like you here.’
‘As a witness, Patrick said. I’m the insurance you apparently wanted. Your vindicator. He said you were that subtle, and I didn’t really believe him.’
‘Devious, he probably meant.’
‘He approved of the idea, anyway. That’s why I’m here.’
I thought her almost too frank and wondered what her boss would have said. We went along to Isobel’s office, where I said thank you for the visitors’ list, and Isobel brought it onto the screen. She gave me a flashing smile of thanks for my message at the end, but shook her head when I asked her if she could remember which actual day each of the people on the list had been to her office.
‘Can you remember,’ I asked neutrally, ‘which of them were here the day before Brett and Dave picked up the hitchhiker? That would be nine days ago, on the Wednesday.’
She shook her head. ‘I could call up the drivers’ list for that day.’ She turned automatically to the computer and then looked stricken. ‘Oh... that day’s wiped out.’
‘It’s all right.’ I’d pieced together various scraps of the pencil-and-paper chart that had been on the desk in my sitting-room, and had written them down in a list.
‘Harve took the first load of Jericho Rich’s horses from Michael Watermead to Newmarket,’ I said. ‘Was anyone from the Watermead yard here in the office that day? Was Jericho Rich here? Was anyone here from Newmarket? Anyone who could have had a sight of the Thursday schedule? You usually have the schedule on the screen a lot of the time. Who could have seen it?’
She looked bewildered. I’d asked the questions too fast. I went back and asked them again slowly.
‘Oh, I see. Well, obviously all the drivers could see who was going where. I mean, they always come in for a look.’
‘And beside the drivers?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s so long ago. People are in and out of here all the time.’ She considered. ‘They didn’t need to come here themselves to know who was doing that trip. I told Betsy when she called here that it was down for Brett and she said both Mr Rich and Mr Watermead wouldn’t be thrilled about it because Brett was such a whiner, and I said... well, I said don’t tell them, but I expect she did.’
I read the list on her screen. ‘What about Dr Farway?’
‘Oh no, he came the day after, when that hitchhiker had died. He came on the Friday.’
‘And... er... John Tigwood?’
‘He’s such a bore with those collecting boxes. Sorry, I shouldn’t say that.’
‘Why not? He is. Which day did he come?’
‘That must have been Friday as well. Yes, Sandy Smith was here too. I remember them all talking about the dead man.’
‘OK. What about Tessa Watermead?’