Tip Off (35 page)

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Authors: John Francome

BOOK: Tip Off
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‘That sounds more likely, but I think even in his most vindictive fantasies, Gerald must have realised his doping tactic was always risky and hardly likely to be viable in the long term. I think his colleagues in the Jockey Club were getting very close to calling in the police.'
‘They probably were, but as Senior Steward, he'd have been difficult to argue with. He's got a lot of very high-level connections, and they'd have been very reluctant to pursue him if there was any doubt about his involvement.'
‘So, how much do you know?'
Emma and I spent the next few minutes telling Frank exactly what we'd been doing over the past forty-eight hours.
‘But without this chap Lincoln, or Tresidder, or the scientist, you have no witnesses?' Frank summed up. ‘And all the evidence you have is some copies of bar-codes issued by the Jockey Club, and the police have the camera gun. And that's it?'
I nodded. ‘We've had the finger-prints on the bar-code papers checked against some of Tintern's that Emma got, and they tally, along with some of Greeves's, but I guess Tintern'll have an answer if we tackle him over it.'
‘So there's nothing that really points the finger at him?'
‘Apart from Tilbury's identification of his voice. And though it's good enough for me, that won't stand up. And whatever Matt says, we're not likely to get much more, either.'
‘I think then, in the interests of justice, we'd better put our faith in Harry Chapman, don't you, Emma?'
He looked at her with pride and affection, and I began to appreciate just how big an event the discovery of an unknown daughter must be for him.
She smiled back, and nodded. ‘Let's do it.'
‘Fine. I'll ring Chapman and tell him to send us the formal offer.'
 
I heard my first spring lark next morning, and saw the tiny bird hovering a hundred feet above the dewy turf at the top of the downs.
I had asked Derek de Morlay if I could come out on Nester with the early lot. It was the first time I'd ridden him since Esmond had left, and I was thrilled to find that he was going as well as he ever had.
Esmond had probably been right not to accept all the credit for the recovery, but I couldn't help feeling that, if nothing more, his actions must have worked as a catalyst to the healing process.
With my confidence higher than it had been for years, I drove from Derek's yard to the office, where I was meeting Matt.
 
‘What exactly is the purpose of this meeting with your girl friend's long-lost father?' Matt asked as he dropped into the passenger seat of my car.
‘You know that Frank has very long-standing and intricate connections with Tintern. He accepts from what I've told him that there's no chance of getting Tintern to the police with an open and shut case. Either by luck or his own doing, Tintern's effectively got everyone who matters out of the way. Whichever, he's not being pursued over Toby's death, and no official finger has been even vaguely pointed at him over the tipping lines.'
‘So, what's Frank's idea?'
‘I'll let him tell you himself.'
 
When we arrived at Wetherdown, I saw Jane briefly on her way out to the yard after breakfast.
‘How's Purple Silk?' I asked.
‘Never looked better, I'm afraid to say.'
‘Nester's looking pretty damned good too,' I grinned. ‘As fit as he's ever been.'
‘What about his jockey?' Jane made a face of good-natured disparagement.
‘His jockey is also in supreme shape, thank you,' I said, mimicking the flourish of a jockey's whip in a finish.
Jane laughed and went on. I was glad to see her looking something like her old self again.
Matt was coming up behind me. ‘You can't still be thinking of riding in that race?'
‘A man may dream,' I said.
We were at the front door now. I pushed it open and went in to find Emma coming across Jane's dark, creaking hall to meet us. She gave me a kiss on the lips and Matt a dazzling smile.
‘Frank's waiting for us in the conservatory,' she said.
Frank looked as if he'd been born ten years after the date given in his passport. He greeted us both with a handshake that felt as if it meant something. ‘Good morning.' His deep, quiet voice resonated around the glass walls and roof of the large room. His lively blue eyes appraised us, taking in the manifest tension in Matt.
‘First, coffee,' he said. ‘I brought my own beans from France,' he added apologetically. ‘I hope you won't mind, but I do like my coffee with a bit of bite.'
He poured some for us. I sat at the table and took a sip; I almost had to catch my breath as I swallowed it and the neat caffeine leaped through my system.
Matt carried his to a side table, put it down and remained standing. He seemed anxious to stick to business. ‘I gather you've got a plan to deliver Lord Tintern his just desserts?'
Frank raised one eyebrow a fraction as he lowered himself on to a long teak steamer chair. ‘Only if you don't have a better one.'
‘Let's hear yours first.'
I was grateful for Frank's tolerance.
‘The plan's quite simple. Gerald has borrowed a hundred and fifteen million pounds to buy up his Buckingham Gate site, and secured the loan with his shareholding in the King George Hotel Group. Until he's bought the final freehold, and the Salmon's Racing lease in the ground floor, the site is worth a lot less than he paid for it. Most of the properties are derelict with no income. I've arranged that tomorrow the loan will be called in for immediate repayment. The site, as it's currently occupied, would take months to sell, so he'll have no option but to sell his shares in King George.'
Matt stared at him doubtfully. ‘But can you do that?'
‘You can if the chairman of the bank is one of your oldest friends, and Sir Alec Denaro and I have known each other since we were five. Then, when I put the word around that the site won't be freed up by Salmon's for years, no one else will lend Gerald the money.'
Frank looked at each of us in turn, checking we were taking it all in. He was evidently satisfied now that he had Matt's undivided attention.
‘Gerald's been active in extending his interests into a lot of other areas. We've checked his current position as closely as possible and I can tell you that he's put a great deal of venture capital into companies where, if you're lucky, the returns can be enormous. But this hasn't been the case for him. His portfolio isn't broad enough and he's stretched.
‘We estimate personal borrowings of over a hundred and thirty million at this point in time. If the Buckingham Gate site is disposed of in a forced sale, with Salmon's still in situ, it won't fetch more than seventy-five million. His shares in the King George Group would realise about thirty-five million and he would be insolvent to the tune of twenty million.'
Matt, I saw, was sitting forward on the edge of his chair, any pretence at lack of interest abandoned. I could tell that he was beginning to see where Frank was taking us.
Matt moved back into the centre of the room. ‘So that's it? You think that as it's impossible to get Tintern convicted or punished for murdering Toby Brown, trying to bankrupt him will have to do?'
Frank met his gaze square on. ‘Yes. I entirely accept your deduction that it must have been Gerald who visited Toby on Sunday morning before the bookie's man found him dead. But from what Simon's told me, we just don't have enough to tie him to it.'
I nodded. ‘Tilbury didn't even see him – only heard him. Let's face it, Matt, it may not be ideal, but this way at least we'll know Tintern's getting what he deserves for what he did.'
‘Besides,' Frank intervened, ‘are you two sure of what he's done, and why?'
‘I am,' I said emphatically. ‘We know why he started fixing races, and using Toby as an unsuspecting front, and we know that Steve Lincoln worked out what was going on and decided to blackmail Tintern.'
‘Around about the time Toby died,' Frank murmured.
‘Maybe Lincoln had got Toby to confront Tintern over whether or not he was behind the doping.'
Frank lowered himself on to his steamer chair and lay back with his eyes tight shut. ‘It's very hard to believe,' he said, shaking his head, ‘though I think you must be right.' He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. ‘But Lincoln then blackmailed him, which must have given Gerald a terrible shock, if he thought he'd killed Toby for nothing.'
‘The bookies might have, if he hadn't. They sent China to do it.'
‘I think they only sent him after Toby to frighten him. Toby wasn't a hard case, but they thought he was taking their money and carrying on his tipping through Connor.'
‘Right, but obviously Tintern thought he'd better nip the blackmail in the bud, and set up Lincoln to be nicked.'
‘But how could he risk that?' Emma asked. ‘The police would want to know why he was being blackmailed.'
‘That's not such a mystery,' Matt said unexpectedly. ‘I was doing some research of my own yesterday while Simon was in London. I spoke to Wyndham and asked him to check out what was going on that evening in Knightsbridge. As far as he can tell, that raid was entirely unofficial – a piece of private enterprise which was never recorded, nor would have been.'
‘Just two coppers standing by in a patrol car?' I asked.
‘Yes.' Matt nodded. ‘I shouldn't think it's that difficult or expensive to arrange, and Tintern was probably hoping Lincoln would be frightened off for good by the shock of almost having his collar felt by the police.'
‘Okay,' Frank said, holding up both hands. ‘I accept that you think you know what happened though you can't prove it. But, as I said, this way at least Tintern gets to pay for what he's done. It won't bring Toby back for Jane, but we'll make sure she knows what we've done, and believe me, that'll help.
‘Simon, perhaps you'd be good enough to open the champagne, then?' He nodded at a bottle in a bucket under a palm tree. ‘Emma, glasses please.'
When we each had a full glass in our hand Frank raised his a little. ‘To justice,' he said. Then, looking at Emma, ‘And fatherhood.'
‘To justice,' I repeated happily, ‘and Better By Far, Champion Chaser.'
Matt looked at me with a cynical grunt. ‘To justice, certainly, and possibly fatherhood – but I'm sorry, Simon. I'd like to support you, but I have to say that there isn't a horse in the world that would come in champion with you on its back!'
Chapter Twenty-Six
I understood how Jane felt.
Her son had been found hanging from a beam; she couldn't accept that he might have taken his own life, and yet, apart from myself and a few of her friends, no one seemed to care.
I'd ridden out on Baltimore. The yard at Wetherdown was as busy as usual on a Saturday, with five runners going off to three different courses. Jane was trying to persuade herself that she wanted to go to Chepstow, where she knew she ought to be. But in the meantime, she had agreed to stay back until midday, to talk to a journalist – one whom she trusted enough to report her version of why Lord Tintern's eight horses, including the Champion Chase favourite, were being so abruptly withdrawn from her yard.
I was sitting alone with her in her study.
‘Jane, I can imagine what it must be like, believe me, and I wish to God there were some way we could persuade the police to go after Tintern, but we just haven't found anything that categorically proves he did it, and they're adamant it was suicide.'
‘It had to be Gerald,' she whispered bleakly. ‘Toby was far too proud to have done it himself.'
‘I know that's what you think, Jane, and I wish there was something I could say to help, but there just isn't. And at least Tintern's going to suffer, even if it isn't as a direct result of what he did to Toby. You do realise, don't you, that by the time all his guarantees have been called, he'll have lost his shares in King George's? And no one's going to take any pity on him then. He'll pay for what he did.'
‘But he'll still be free, that's what irks me,' she said. ‘And he won't know the real reason he's lost King George.'
‘When he's declared bankrupt, I'll make it my business to let him know how it happened.'
‘But how did you do it, Simon?'
‘The timing was mostly good luck, but originally it was a chance remark of Frank's that prompted me.'
I explained to her how Tintern had tried to bring Salmon Racing to its knees and, even though he'd failed, bid for it out of desperation when he saw he was going to lose the Buckingham Gate site.
‘But then, of course,' I told her, ‘it was a crazy idea, and he was too late anyway because the bookies were making money again. I guess you could say they'd outflanked him.'
Jane nodded, even allowing herself a smile. ‘Gerald must be seething – at just the thought of losing the hotels, and Purple Silk moving to another yard, so close to the Champion Chase.'
‘Why didn't you hang on until after Cheltenham?'
‘I couldn't – not once I knew he'd been involved in Toby's death. I made him take all his horses away. I just hope you can beat him on Nester.'
 
I left Jane with promises ringing in her ears that everything humanly and legally possible would be done to ensure that Better By Far beat Purple Silk in the Champion Chase in ten days' time. But my more immediate, and no less cherished, aim was to see Gerald Tintern pay heavily and promptly for his crimes.

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