Knock Down by Dick Francis

Author:Dick Francis
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General
ISBN: 9780671670801
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 1988-04-15T19:12:09.383325+00:00

9

Vic said, ‘You’re going to have to be told, Jonah.’

‘Told what?’

There were people within shouting distance, going to their cars. I thought maybe I would shout, but not perhaps just yet.

The seven men took a small step forwards almost as if moved by a signal. I stood with my back against my car and thought I was getting tired of being attacked in car parks. Have to travel more by train.

‘You’re going to do what we tell you, whether you like it or not.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I am not.’

They took another step and stood in a solid wall, shoulder to shoulder. If I reached out I could touch them.

‘You’ll fall over yourselves in a minute,’ I said.

They didn’t like me trying to make a joke of them. The anger Vic had throttled earlier rose up again in his face and none of his clients would have recognised their friendly neighbourhood bloodsucker. A vein in his forehead swelled and throbbed.

The Yorkshireman Fynedale put his shoulder in front of Vic’s as if to hold him back.

‘You’re more trouble than you’re worth,’ he told me, ‘And you might as well get this straight. You’re not to bid when we say not. Right?’

Vic elbowed him back. Vic didn’t like his lieutenant usurping the role of number one thug.

‘If we get rough, you’ve asked for it,’ he said.

‘Get,’ I said, ‘What do you call that bang on the head at Ascot? A friendly pat?’

He snapped out, ‘That wasn’t us,’ and instantly regretted it. His face closed like a slammed door.

I glanced round the ring of faces. Some of them didn’t know what had happened at Ascot. But Vic did. Fynedale did. Ronnie North and Jiminy Bell did….

‘Who was it?’

‘Never you mind. You just reckon you’ve had a taster. And you bloody will do what you’re told.’

They all looked so furiously intent that I wanted to laugh: but when they suddenly wheeled away and went off to their own cars I found I didn’t want to laugh after all. I stood where they’d left me and breathed in deep lungfuls of winter night. However ludicrous I might think it that some perfectly ordinary citizens should threaten to beat me up if I didn’t join their strong-arm union, their collective menace had been real enough.

All I suddenly wanted was a cigarette.

There were few cars left in the park, but the one next to mine turned out to be Pauli Teksa’s.

‘Jonah?’ he said, peering at me through the dim lighting.

‘Hullo.’

‘You’re just standing there smoking?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Want to come to my place for a bite to eat?’

By tacit consent my dinner date with Eddy and Marji had lapsed, but my hosts for the week were not expecting me back. If I wanted to eat at all it might as well be in company.

‘Couldn’t think of anything better,’ I said.

He was staying in a pub outside Newmarket which put on late dinners especially for people after the sales. The cosy bar and dining-room were full of familiar faces and the general conversation was predictable.

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