‘That shows a direct link between Oakley and the people in the circles. One of those people is Jack Roxford. He did, you see, know of Oakley’s existence. He knew Oakley would agree to provide faked evidence.’
‘But...’ Lord Ferth began.
‘Yes, I know,’ I said. ‘Circumstantial. Then there’s this list of people from George Newtonnards.’ I gave him the list, and pointed. ‘These are the people who definitely knew that Cranfield had backed Cherry Pie with Newtonnards. Again this is not conclusive, because other people might have known, who are not on this list. But that man,’ I pointed to the name in Herbie Subbings’ list of contacts, ‘that man is Grace Roxford’s brother, Jack’s brother-in-law.’
Ferth looked at me levelly. ‘You’ve taken a lot of trouble.’
‘It was taken for me,’ I said, ‘By Teddy Dewar and his friend, and by George Newtonnards.’
‘They acted on your suggestions, though.’
‘Yes.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘There are those neatly typed sheets of accusations which were sent to Lord Gowery. So untypical, by the way, of Grace. We could compare the typewriter with Jack’s... Typewriters are about as distinctive as finger prints. I haven’t had an opportunity to do that yet.’
Jack looked up wildly. The typewriter made sense to him. He hadn’t followed the significance of the lists.
Ferth said slowly, ‘I obtained from the Stewards’ Secretaries the letter which pointed out to them that a disqualified person was living in a racing stable. As far as I remember, the typing is the same as in the original accusations.’
‘Very catty, that,’ I said. ‘More like Grace. Revengeful, and without much point.’
‘I never wrote to the Stewards’ Secretaries,’ Jack said.
‘Did Grace?’
He shook his head. I thought perhaps he didn’t know. It didn’t seem to be of any great importance. I said instead: ‘I looked inside the boot of Jack’s car this morning, while he was in Mr Cranfield’s house. He carries a great big tool kit, including a hand drill.’
‘No,’ Jack said.
‘Yes indeed. Also you have an old grey Volkswagen, the one Grace drove today. That car was seen by the mechanic from my garage when you went to pick over the remains of my car. I imagine you were hoping to remove any tell-tale drill holes which might have led the insurance company to suspect attempted murder, but Derek was there before you. And you either followed him or asked the garage whether he’d taken anything from the wreckage, because you sent David Oakley to my flat to get it back. Oakley didn’t know the significance of what he was looking for. A chunk of metal with a hole in it. That was all he knew. He was there to earn a fee.’
‘Did he find it?’ Ferth asked.
‘No. I still have it. Can one prove that a certain drill made a certain hole?’
Ferth didn’t know. Jack didn’t speak.
‘When you heard, at the dance,’ I said, ‘That I was trying to find out who had framed Cranfield and me, you thought you would get rid of me, in case I managed it. Because if I managed it, you’d lose far more than Byler’s horses... so while I was talking to Lord Ferth and dancing with Roberta, you were out at the back of the car park rigging up your booby trap. Which,’ I added calmly, remembering the blazing hell of the dislocations, ‘I find hard to forgive.’
‘I’ll strangle him,’ Tony said forcefully.
‘What happens to him,’ I shook my head, ‘Depends on Lord Ferth.’
Ferth regarded me squarely. ‘You find him. I deal with him.’
‘That was the agreement.’
‘To your satisfaction.’
‘Yes.’
‘And what is your satisfaction?’
I didn’t know.
Tony moved restlessly, looking at his watch. ‘Lord Ferth, Kelly, look, I’m sorry, but I’ve got a horse to saddle for the last race... I’ll have to go now.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Lord Ferth. ‘But we’d all be obliged if you wouldn’t talk about what you’ve learned in here.’
Tony looked startled. ‘Sure. If you say so. Not a word.’ He stood up and went over to the door. ‘See you after,’ he said to me. ‘You secretive so-and-so.’
As he went out a bunch of Stewards and their wives came in chattering for their tea. Lord Ferth went over to them and exerted the flashing eyes, and they all went into reverse. A waiter who had materialised behind them was stationed outside the door with instructions to send all customers along to the members’ tea room.
While this was going on Jack looked steadfastly down at the tablecloth and said not a word. I didn’t feel like chatting to him idly either. He’d cost me too much.
Lord Ferth came briskly back and sat down.
‘Now then, Roxford,’ he said in his most businesslike way, ‘We’ve heard Kelly’s accusations. It’s your turn now to speak up in your defence.’
Jack slowly lifted his head. The deep habitual lines of worry were running with sweat.
‘It was someone else.’ His voice was dead.
‘It certainly wasn’t Grace,’ I said, ‘Because Lord Gowery was quite clear that the person who tried to blackmail him on the telephone was a man.’ So was the person who had got at Charlie West a man, or so he’d said.
Jack Roxford jerked.
‘Yes, Roxford, we know about Lord Gowery.’ Ferth said.
‘You can’t...’
‘You belong to the same club,’ I said assertively, as if I knew.
For Jack Roxford, too, the thought of that club was the lever which opened the floodgates. Like Gowery before him he broke into wretched pieces.
‘You don’t understand...’
‘Tell us then,’ Ferth said. ‘And we’ll try.’
‘Grace... we... I... Grace didn’t like...’ He petered out.
I gave him a shove. ‘Grace liked her sex natural and wouldn’t stand for what you wanted.’
He gulped. ‘Soon after we were married we were having rows all the time, and I hated that. I loved her, really I did. I’ve always loved her. And I felt... all tangled up... she didn’t understand that when I beat her it was because of love... she said she’d leave me and divorce me for cruelty... so I asked a girl I’d known... a street girl, who didn’t mind... I mean... she let you, if you paid well enough... if I could go on seeing her... but she said she’d given that up now... but there was a club in London... and I went there... and it was a terrific relief... and then I was all right with Grace... but of course we didn’t... well, hardly ever... but somehow... we could go on being married.’
Lord Ferth looked revolted.
‘I couldn’t believe it at first,’ Jack said more coherently, ‘When I saw Lord Gowery there. I saw him in the street, just outside. I thought it was just a coincidence. But then, one night, inside the club, I was sure it was him, and I saw him again in the street another time... but I didn’t say anything. I mean, how could I? And anyway, I knew how he felt... you don’t go there unless you must... and you can’t keep away.’
‘How long have you known that Lord Gowery went to the same club?’ I asked.
‘Oh... two or three years. A long time. I don’t know exactly.’
‘Did he know you were a member?’
‘No. He hadn’t a clue. I spoke to him once or twice on the racecourse about official things... He didn’t have any idea.’
‘And then,’ Ferth said thoughtfully, ‘You read that he had been appointed in Colonel Midgley’s place to officiate at the Cranfield-Hughes Enquiry, and you saw what you thought was a good chance of getting Cranfield out of racing, and keeping Byler’s horses yourself.’
Jack sat huddled in his chair, not denying it.
‘And when Lord Gowery declined to be blackmailed, you couldn’t bear to give up the idea, and you set about faking evidence that would achieve your ends.’