The Silver Horseshoe (Robert Budd Mystery Book 3) by Gerald Verner

Author:Gerald Verner [Verner, Gerald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2018-08-09T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

THE MEN OF THE NIGHT

Several people had been injured by flying particles of metal and a number of women had fainted from shock. The ambulance men were kept busy attending to the wounded, and in the general confusion and excitement which followed the unprecedented occurrence Peter found no opportunity of speaking to Mr Budd again for some time.

Marjorie was horrified, but relieved when she learned that old Jacob Bellamy was uninjured. The rugged old bookmaker had found a place in her affections, although she had known him but a short while.

Peter got her out of the crowd and escorted her to the luncheon tent, and then went back to find out all he could concerning the outrage.

“It must have been a time-bomb,” said Mr Budd when he eventually succeeded in getting hold of that harassed official. “Not a very powerful one, luckily, but enough to do what was intended. Somebody succeeded in slipping it under the stand without being seen. Not a very difficult thing to do in this crowd. Luckily there was nobody near the stand when the thing went off.”

“What about the clerk?” asked Peter.

“He wasn’t there,” said the fat detective, shaking his head. “He’d gone away for a few minutes. I’m sorry about Sergeant Gayling. He was a nice chap. Poor feller.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t Bellamy?” demanded the reporter.

“Because I thought the fewer people who knew about it the better,” said Mr Budd. “I had great difficulty in persuading Mr Bellamy to keep away. In fact I nearly had to lock him up.”

“He was very like old Jacob,” muttered Peter. “I had no suspicion—”

“He was like enough. Sufficiently so, anyway, to deceive these people,” said the stout Superintendent. “I suppose you’re goin’ to print an account of this business in that rag of yours?”

“You bet your life I am!” said Peter. “Old Sorbet ’ull dance with joy when he hears.”

The Stewards had arrived, three anxious and horrified men, and Mr Budd went off to pacify their righteous indignation.

Peter waited until he learned that racing was to be abandoned for the rest of the day, and then he sought out a telephone and poured into Mr Sorbet’s willing ears an account of the tragedy. When he had done this he went back to find the girl, and put a suggestion which had occurred to him.

“When Budd is through here suppose we go back to my cottage? It’s quiet there. It’ll only take half an hour. We can talk without being disturbed.”

She agreed, and he hurried away to find the Superintendent.

“I ought to go back to the Yard,” Mr Budd demurred.

“Well, you can later,” urged Peter. “Come along. I think we ought to have a conference over this.”

The big man agreed eventually.

“I tell you what you might do, Mr Ashton,” he said. “Telephone Bellamy and ask him to come down to your place. You’ll find him at the Yard. I arranged with him to stop there all day.”

“All right, I’ll do that,” said Peter. “How long will you be before you’re through?”

“I’ll be some time,” Mr Budd murmured.

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