Chapter 25 A Two-Horse Race

Baudelaire continued with an account of the three acts of sabotage. He explained to the meeting that the first – the unhitching of the Lorrimores' car at Carrier, before Winnipeg -should never have happened. Filmer had mixed up Winnipeg and Vancouver and told McLachlan to sabotage the train before Winnipeg, when he meant before Vancouver. The second -the stealing of the heating fuel - could have caused the death of some of the horses from the cold. The third was not part of Filmer's plan, and Filmer had tried to stop McLachlan; but by then McLachlan was out of control and just wanted his revenge against the railway company.

Filmer began to protest, but Bill Baudelaire interrupted him. Baudelaire told the full story of the overheating axle and George being knocked out and tied up, the radio being broken, and McLachlan waiting up the track for whoever would be sent with flares to warn the Canadian.

This was the first time Filmer had heard these details, and he stared darkly into space, seeing a miserable future for himself.

'McLachlan did attack the man with the flares,' Baudelaire continued, 'but by good fortune failed to knock him out. It was this man here who was sent with the flares.' He nodded in my direction. 'He succeeded in lighting the flares and stopping the Canadian. You, Mr Filmer, are responsible with McLachlan for all these acts of sabotage.'

'No.' Filmer's voice was a rising shout of protest. 'I told him not to; I didn't want him to.'

His lawyers would love that confession, I thought, when they listened to the tape.

'McLachlan's attack on Mr Kelsey here was serious,' Baudelaire went on. He picked up the report the doctor had given me. 'In addition to hurting the conductor, McLachlan brоке this waiter's shoulder-blade. Mr Kelsey has seen the photograph of McLachlan, and recognizes the man who attacked him.'

Filmer was sweating now. He was on the edge.

'We will take you to court for all these crimes,' Baudelaire said in conclusion.

That was when Filmer lost control. He came up out of his chair fighting mad, driven to hurting somebody — anybody — in revenge for his defeat.

I was the one he chose. He couldn't have known how important I had actually been in causing his defeat, that I had been his real enemy all along. No, he probably saw me as the least important of the people there, only a waiter, one he could hurt without being punished for it.

But I saw him coming. I also saw the alarm on the Brigadier's face and understood that, if I fought back, as instinct was insisting I should - if I did to Filmer the sort of damage I had told the Brigadier I had done to McLachlan — then Filmer would be in a stronger position in court.

Thought before action, as the Brigadier would say.

In the short time it took for Filmer to reach me, all these thoughts went through my mind, and I had made my decision. I didn't fight back, although every muscle in my body was ready for action.

I rolled my head a little sideways and he hit me twice, quite hard, on the cheek and the chin. I fell back with a crash against the wall (which didn't do my shoulder much good) and slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor.

Filmer was standing over me, getting ready to hit me again, when George Burley and Bill Baudelaire grabbed hold of him and pulled him away.

The Brigadier pressed a button on the table, which soon resulted in the arrival of two large policemen, who took Filmer away. One might almost have felt pity for him — until one remembered that groom lying murdered in an English ditch.

Daffodil Quentin's eyes were wide with concern as she came over to where I was still sitting on the floor. 'You poor boy,' she said. 'How perfectly awful!'

'Mr Burley,' Bill said smoothly, 'would you be so kind as to take Mrs Quentin to the reception room downstairs, where you will find the other owners. Lunch will be served there shortly. . . and please do stay yourself for lunch. We will take care of Mr Kelsey.'

George took Daffodil away, but not before she had murmured 'You poor boy' once or twice more.

When they had left, the Brigadier switched off the tape recorder. 'Poor boy indeed!' he said. 'You chose to let him hit you; I saw you.'

'He couldn't!' Mercer protested. 'No one can do that, surely.'

'He could and he did,' the Brigadier said. 'It was brilliant, quick thinking.' He helped me to my feet.

'Did you really?' Mercer asked.

I nodded, gently touching my injured face.

'I sent him on the train,' the Brigadier said, 'to stop Filmer doing whatever he was planning.' He smiled. 'It was a sort of match — a two-horse race.'

'It seems to have been a close thing now and again,' Mercer
commented.

'Perhaps,' said the Brigadier, 'but our runner had the edge.'

Date: 2015-12-24; view: 619