(1968) Forfeit by Francis Dick

Author:Francis, Dick [Dick, Francis,]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-06-30T14:52:50.843000+00:00

They stood in silence for nearly fifteen minutes, watching me. Then Vjoersterod said, 'Stand up. ' I stood. 'Turn round in a circle. ' I turned. Lurched. Staggered. Swayed on my feet. Vjoersterod nodded in satisfaction. 'That's all, Mr Tyrone. All for today. I expect to be pleased by what you write in the paper on Sunday. I had better be pleased. ' I nodded. A mistake. My head swam violently. I overbalanced slightly. The whisky was being absorbed into my bloodstream at a disastrous rate. Vjoersterod and Ross let themselves out unhurriedly and without another word. As soon as the door closed behind them I turned and made tracks for the kitchen. Behind me Elizabeth's voice called in a question, but I had no time to waste and explain. I pulled the tin of salt from the shelf, poured two inches of it into a tumbler and splashed in an equal amount of water. Stirred it with my fingers. No time for a spoon. Seconds counted. Drank the mixture. It tasted like the Seven Seas rolled into one. Scorched my throat. An effort to get more than one mouthful down. I was gagging over the stuff before it did its work and came up again, bringing with it whatever of the whisky hadn't gone straight through my stomach wall. I leaned over the sink, retching and wretched. I had lurched for Vjoersterod more than was strictly necessary, but the alcohol had in fact taken as strong and fast a hold as I had feared it would. I could feel its effects rising in my brain, disorganizing coordination, distorting thought. No possible antidote except time. Time. Fifteen minutes, maybe, since I had taken the stuff. In ten minutes more, perhaps twenty, I would be thoroughly drunk. I didn't know whether Vjoersterod had made me drink for any special purpose or just from bloody-mindedness. I did know that it was a horrible complication to what I had planned to do. I rinsed my mouth out with clean water and straightened up. Groaned as the heavy yoke of bruises across my shoulders reminded me I had other troubles beside drink. Went back to Elizabeth concentrating on not knocking into the walls and doors, and picked up the telephone. A blank. Couldn't remember the number. Think. Out it came. Willy Onroy answered. 'Willie, ' I said. 'Move that horse out of box sixty-eight. That was the opposition you were talking to earlier. Put on all the guards you can, and move the horse to another box. Stake out sixty-eight and see if you can catch any would-be nobblers in the act. ' 'Ty! Will do. ' 'Can't stop, Willy. Sorry about this. ' 'Don't worry. We'll see no one reaches him. I think like - you, that it's essential that he should be kept safe until the race. ' 'They may be determined... ' 'So am I. '" I put the receiver back in its cradle with his reassurance shoring me up, and met Elizabeth's horrified gaze.

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