My first call of the day was to DS Royle’s number.
She answered almost immediately.
‘My daughter is safe,’ I said. ‘She returned home to her boyfriend’s flat late last night.’
‘Good,’ said the detective. ‘Did she say where she’d been?’
‘Someone put a sack over her head and bundled her into a van. She was driven around for several hours and then left at the side of the road in Didcot.’
‘Did she see the person who did this?’
‘It seems not. She had the sack over her head all the time until after the van had driven away.’
‘Was she harmed? Or abused?’
‘No, other than she said she was very frightened.’
‘Did you pay a ransom?’ the DS asked.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I never received a demand for one.’
‘How strange.’
‘What are you going to do now?’ I asked. ‘Will you interview her?’
‘I may send my detective constable to see her in due course.’
That sounded very much like a ‘no’ to me.
‘Surely an abduction of a young woman in broad daylight demands the attention of at least a detective sergeant.’
‘That’s if an abduction did take place.’
‘Are you calling my daughter a liar?’
‘I just think it’s odd that no ransom was demanded and she was released totally untouched.’
What the detective didn’t know was that a ransom had been demanded. Maybe not a monetary one, but a ransom, nevertheless.
I wondered if I should tell her about it, but there would then be too many difficult questions to answer, not least why I hadn’t mentioned it to her before.
If I had finally managed to rid myself of Squeaky Voice, it would surely not be a good time, or a good idea, to unnecessarily open myself to allegations of race fixing.
After the police detective, I called my list of trainers, the first of whom was Malcolm Galbraith, the jump trainer who’d been at the party, and who lived in the village over the hill. The one Victrix horse in his yard, Casillero, had been declared to run that afternoon in the Summer Plate Trial Handicap Steeplechase at Market Rasen in Lincolnshire, about a hundred and sixty miles north.
‘Morning, Malcolm,’ I said. ‘All good for today?’
‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Cassy went up yesterday. She’s not a very good traveller, so I’ve given her overnight to recover. She’ll be fine by this afternoon.’
‘Are you going?’ I asked.
‘No. My travelling head lad will do the necessary. He went up in the horsebox with her. I’m off to Ascot for the day.’
‘So am I. I might see you there. I’ll watch Cassy’s race in the Owners and Trainers’ Bar. What time is it?’
‘Five to four. I’ll meet you there to watch it with you.’
We disconnected and I quickly rang the rest of the trainers on my list.
At about half past eight, as I was finishing the last of my calls, Toni came into the office, wearing her yellow dress and holding her hat.
‘I’ve decided not to go to the races today after all,’ she said. ‘It seems a shame to come all this way and not see something else of England other than the Ascot racetrack. I was too tired Monday, and this is my last day, so I’m going to go see some of the sights instead. Can you put me on a train to London?’
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘But it’s a shame when you’ve already paid for your badge.’
‘The Farquhars bought it for me.’
That was all right, then.
‘How about tonight?’ I asked.
‘I’m going to have an early night,’ she said. ‘My flight to Cincinnati departs at half past eight in the morning, so I need to be at Heathrow soon after six. I have a car booked for five-thirty. Sorry.’
To be honest, I was relieved.
I felt this adventure had run its course, and I think she did too.
I dropped her at Didcot station at a quarter to ten.
She reached up and kissed me goodbye.
‘It’s been great,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
‘Thank you too,’ I replied.
‘If you’re ever in Lexington, give me a call. We could do it again — just for old times’ sake.’
I watched her walk away from me, and she turned once to wave before disappearing into the station entrance.
I sighed. It had indeed been great. A reawakening.
In fact, I wondered if my life could ever be the same again.
I climbed back into the Jaguar, feeling slightly forlorn that she had gone.
‘Come on,’ I said to myself. ‘Pull yourself together.’
I started the car and drove out of the station forecourt without so much as a backward glance, putting that chapter literally and symbolically behind me.
Next I went to the post office on the Broadway, to send James’s passport to his current flat address, paying extra for Special Delivery by one PM on a Saturday.
When I’d sat at my desk earlier, packing the passport into an envelope, I’d enclosed with it the Bristol University Gambling Society leaflet, but only after I’d written across it in bold black marker pen: Don’t get involved with this. There’s no such thing as a guaranteed return on your stake.
As I was already in Didcot, I decided to drive to the Raj Tandoori.
I parked on the road opposite and called Amanda.
‘I told you never to call this number,’ she said, answering at the second ring.
‘But I need to talk to you,’ I said.
‘Is Grandpa all right?’ she asked.
‘He’s fine,’ I said.
‘So why are you calling?’
‘I need to talk to you about last night.’
‘What about it?’ she asked. ‘I told you what happened.’
‘Have you remembered anything else, something that might help catch the person who did this to you?’
‘No.’
‘How about the sack? Where did you leave it?’
‘On the road?’
‘Which road?’
‘Dad, I don’t know. I was panicking. I ran until I found something I recognised. Then I came home.’
She was getting quite agitated.
‘It’s all right, darling,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. But if you do remember anything else, please call me.’
‘There is one thing,’ she said. ‘Either the sack or the van smelled of dogs.’
‘Dogs?’
‘Yes, you know, that musty smell you get from wet dogs.’
Or maybe from wet hessian, I thought.
‘Where are you now?’ I asked her.
‘At work. I’m on earlies at the supermarket this week. It’s my break time.’
So I was wasting my time being here outside Darren’s flat.
‘What time do you finish?’
‘Four.’
I’d be at Ascot watching Casillero’s race from Market Rasen in the Owners and Trainers’ Bar. There was no way I could be here to collect her.
‘I have to be at Ascot today at four o’clock. So can Darren come and collect you from work, to take you back to his flat?’
‘Stop being silly, Dad.’
‘I’m not being silly. I’m worried about you.’
‘Don’t be. I’m fine.’
‘Please be careful,’ I said. ‘Don’t go out on your own at night, and keep away from dark alleys.’
‘I promise I’ll be careful,’ she replied in a sort of ‘please don’t treat me like a little girl’ tone. ‘I have to go now as I’m due back at work.’
She hung up.
Who did I know who owned dogs?
Chapter 28
The official attendance numbers showed that there were slightly fewer people at Royal Ascot on Friday than there had been for the Gold Cup the previous day, not that you would have noticed it.
Not having an invitation to lunch or a complimentary meal on offer as one of the day’s owners, I didn’t arrive at the racecourse until after the Royal Procession, to avoid the worst of the traffic.