Chapter 26 Keeping a Promise

Mercer Lorrimer felt that he couldn't attend the party so soon after his son's death. The President of Exhibition Park understood, and let him use his private room, which was next to the reception room, and offered just as splendid a view of the racetrack.

Mercer had asked if I would join him and I accepted. So there we were, drinking champagne and talking about Filmer.

'I liked him, you know,' said Mercer, surprised at himself.

'Yes, he could be very charming. That was one of his main tools.'

'He even told me about the trial back in England. He insisted he was innocent, and told me that he didn't think any the worse of the Jockey Club.'

'In fact,' I said, 'he was eaten up by hatred for the Jockey Club. He threatened to get his revenge, and McLachlan was to be the instrument of his revenge.'

'What was the real point of this morning?' Mercer asked.

'Last time he got off by frightening the witnesses,' I explained. 'So this time we thought we would act quickly, and get the evidence down on tape, before he'd had a chance to frighten anyone else.'

'Did you think I could be frightened, then?' asked Mercer.

'You don't know Filmer. He could have threatened to hurt Xanthe or Bambi. One of the witnesses in the trial in England changed his story after Filmer's man told him, in detail, what would happen to his young daughter if he gave evidence in the trial.'

'Dear God,' said Mercer. 'Surely he'll be sent to prison.'

'Perhaps. At least he'll be warned off the horse-racing world, which is how he makes a living. So we'll have hurt him.'

(As a matter of fact, both Filmer and McLachlan - when he was found — were sent to prison, But that was months ahead.)

The race was just about to start. Mercer's Voting Right led from the start. He seemed to have started too fast, however, and for a while, both Laurentide Ice (who was running in Mrs Quentin's name alone) and Sparrowgrass were closing the gap. Then Laurentide Ice melted away, as Mrs Baudelaire had said he would, and the race was between Sparrowgrass and Voting Right. Sparrowgrass made a great effort to catch the other horse up, and Voting Right was starting to tire, but it was still Voting Right who was a neck ahead at the finishing line.

His horse's splendid victory gave Mercer fresh energy. He turned to me and said, 'Thank you. Thank you for all you have done.'

Just then, the President came into the room to congratulate Mercer. He showed us that if we pulled aside the curtains that were covering one wall of the room, we could see into the reception room. 'They can't see you,' he explained. 'It's one- way glass.'

We stood and watched the party for a while. There were all the familiar faces - the Youngs, the Unwins. . .

The President turned to me and said that he'd heard that I was a bit of a hero. He asked if there was anything he could do for me.

I smiled. 'As a matter of fact, yes, there is,' I said. 'Do you see that young woman next door, with the fair hair and the worried look on her face?'

'Nell Richmond,' Mercer said.

'Would you mind if she came in here for a while?' I asked.

'Not at all,' said the President, and within minutes he could be seen talking to her. He couldn't have told her who to expect in his room, however, because when she came in and saw me, she was surprised — and happy.

'You're on your feet! Daffodil said the waiter was badly hurt.' Her voice died away and she swallowed. 'I was afraid. . .'

'That we wouldn't get to Hawaii?'

'Oh.' It was somewhere between a laugh and a cry. 'You .. . !'

'Yes?

She looked through the one-way glass and said that she had to be in there with the others: that was her job. 'And talking of my job,' she said, 'read this after I've gone.' She gave me a piece of paper which she'd been looking for in her handbag.

She went out without looking back and I unfolded the paper. It was a message from the boss of her travel company. It told her that she could have two weeks' holiday, starting immediately, and ended, 'Have a good time.'

I closed my eyes.

'What's the matter?' asked Mercer, concerned. He'd been about to go to receive his horse's prize.

I opened my eyes. The letter still had the same message. I showed it to him and he read it.

'I dare say that Brigadier Catto will match that,' he said.

'He'd better,' I replied. 'If he doesn't, I'll resign.'

Date: 2015-12-24; view: 658