Driving Force

Chapter 1

DrivingForce.

d.i.c.kFrancis.

CHAPTER1.

Ihadtoldthedriversneveronanyaccounttopickupahitchhikerbutofcourseonedaytheydid,andbythetimetheyreachedmyhousehewasdead.

ThebellbythebackdoorrangasIwasheatingupleft-overbeefstewforafairlyboringsupper,consequenceoflivingalone,andwithbarelyasighandnopremonitionIswitchedoffthehotplate,putthesaucepantoonesideandwenttoseewhohadcome.Friendstendedtoenteratoncewhileyellingmyname,asthedoorwa.s.seldomlocked.Employeesmostlyknockedfirstandenterednext,stillwithlittleceremony.Onlystrangersrangthebellandwaited.



Thistimeitwasdifferent.ThistimewhenIopenedthedoorthelightfrominsidethehousefellyellowlyonthestretchedscaredeyesoftwoofthemenwhoworkedforme,whostooduncomfortablyonthedoormatshiftingfromfoottofoot,agonisedlyandobviouslyexpectantofwrathtocome.

Myownresponsetotheseclearsignalsofdisasterwasthefamiliaradrenalinerushofalarmthatnoamountofdealingwithearliercrisescouldprevent.Theoldpumpquickened.Myvoicecameouthigh.

"What"sthematter?"Isaid."Whathappened?"

Iglancedovertheirshoulders.Thebulkofoneofthetwolargestinmyfleetofhorseboxesstoodrea.s.suringlyintheshadowsoutonthetarmackedparkingarea,thehouselightsraisinggleamsalongitssilveryflank.Atleasttheyhadn"trunitintoaditch:atleastthey"dbrought.i.thome.Allelsehadtobesecondary.

"Look,Freddie,"DaveYatessaid,adefensivewhinedeveloping,"it"snotourfault."

"Whatisn"t?"

"Thisfour-eyeswepickedup..."

"Youwhat?"

Theyoungeronesaid,"Itoldyouweshouldn"t,Dave."

Inhimtheanxietywhinewasalreadyfull-blown,sincewrigglingoutofblamewashisfamiliarhabit.He,BrettGardner,alreadyonmylistforthechop,hadbeenhiredforhismusclesandhismechanicalknow-how,thewhingingnatureatfirstunsuspected.Histhreemonths"trialperiodwasalmostup,andIwouldn"tbemakinghimpermanent.

Hewasacompetent.w.a.tchfuldriver.I"dtrustedhimfromthestartwithmybiggestandmostexpensivewagonsbutI"dhadrequestsfromseveralgoodcustomersnottosendhimtotransporttheirhorsestotheraces,ashetendedtosowhisowndissatisfactionslikeavirus.Stableladstravellingwithhimwenthomeincubatinggrouses,totheiremployers"irritation.

"Itwasn"tasifwehadanyhorsesonboard,"DaveYateswa.s.saying,tryingtoplacate."JustBrettandme."

I"dtoldallthedriversoverandoverthatpickinguphitchhikerswhiletherewerehorsesonboardinvalidatedtheinsurance.ItoldthemI"dsackanyoftheminstantlyiftheydidthat.I"dalsotoldthemnever,ever,togiveanyliftsatalltoanyone,eveniftheboxwasemptyofhorses,andeveniftheyknewthelift-beggerpersonally.No,Freddie,ofcoursenot,they"dsaidseriously;andnowIwonderedjusthowoftenthey"ddisobeyedme.

"Whataboutthefour-eyes?"Isaid,myannoyanceobvious."What"sactuallythematter?"

Davesaiddesperately,"He"sdead."

"You...stupid..."Wordsfailedme,drownedinanger.Icouldhavehithim,andnodoubthesawit,backingawayinstinctively,frightrising.Allsortsofscenariospresentedthemselvesinrapidsuccession,noneofthempromisinganythingb.u.t.troubleandlawsuits."Whatdidhedo?"Idemanded."Trytojumpoffwhileyouweremoving?Ordidyourunhimover..."AnddearChrist,Ithought,let.i.tnotbethat.

Dave"ssurprisedshakeoftheheadputatleastthosefearstorest.

"He"sinthebox,"hesaid."Lyingontheseat.WetriedtowakehimwhenwegottoNewbury,totellhimitwastimetogetoff.Andwecouldn"t.Imean...he"sdead."

"Areyousure?"

Theybothreluctantlynodded.

Iswitchedontheoutsidelightstofloodthetarmacwithvisibilityandwentoverwiththemforalook-see.Theyskitteredoneeachsideofme,crabbingsideways,makingunhappydeprecatingflappingmovementswiththeirhands,tryingtoshedtheirguilt,tojustifythemselves,togetmetounderstanditwasunfortunatebutnot,definitelynot,asDavehadsaid,theirfault.

Dave,ofaboutmyownheight(fivenine)andage(mid-thirties)wasprimarilyahorsemanandsecondarilyadriver,usuallytravellingwithanimalsthatforsomereasonweren"tbeingsentwithenoughattendantsoftheirown.I"dseenhimandBrettoffthatmorningtopickupninetwo-year-oldslocallyforaone-waytriptoNewmarket,theirownerbeingintheprocessoftransferringhisentirestringfromoneperfectlygoodtrainertoanotherinatypicalbad-temperedhuff.Itwasn"tthatman"sfirstexpensiveacross-countryflounce,andnodoubtnothislast.I"dshippedhisthree-year-oldcoltsforhimthepreviousdayandwasbookedforfilliesonthemorrow.Moremoneythansense,Ithought.

Iknewtheninetwo-year-oldshadarrivedsafelyintheirnewhomeasBretthadmadethecustomarycallstomyofficebothwhenhereachedhisdestinationandatthestartofhisreturnjourney.Alltheboxeswereequippedwithmobilephones:theregularreportingcallswereausefulroutine,eveniftheolderdriversthoughtonefussy.FussyFreddietheymightwellcallmebehindmyback,butwithafleetoffourteenboxeszig-zaggingroundEnglandmostdayscarryingmulti-millionfortunesonthehoof,Icouldn"taffordignoranceornegligentmistakes.

Thefrontcabsofbighorseboxeswerealwaysprettyroomy,havingtoaccommodateseveralattendantsbesidesoneorsometimestwodrivers.Thecabsofmynine-horserigscouldholdeightpeopleatapinch,notinpullmancomfortbutatleastsittingdown.Behindthedriverandthetwofrontpa.s.sengerseatsalongpaddedrea.r.s.eatusuallygavesupporttofourorfivenarrowbottoms:onthisoccasion,itsentirelengthwasoccupiedbyonemanlyingonhisback,feettowardsme,silentandnolongerworriedabouttime.

Iclimbedintothecabandstoodlookingdownathim.

I"dexpected,I"drealised,somesortoftramp.Someonewithastubble,smellyjacket,grubbyjeans,downonhisluck.Notaprosperous-lookingmiddle-agedfatmaninsuit,tieandgoldonyxsignetring,withleather-soledpolishedshoespointingmutelytoheaven.Notamanwholookedasifhecouldhaveboughtothermoresuitabletransport.

Hewascertainlydead.Ididn"tattempttofeelforapulse,norclosethesaggingmouthorthehalf-openlidsbehindthethick-lensedgla.s.ses.Arolleduphorserughadprovidedhimwithpillow.Onearmhadfallenbyhisside,thehandwiththeringrestinglaxlyonthefloor,nearbutnottouchingablackbriefcase.Ijumpeddownfromthecab,shut.i.tsdoorandlookedattheworriedfacesofmymenwhowouldnolongermeetmyeyes.

"Howmuchdidhepayyou?"Iaskedbluntly.

"Freddie!"Davewriggledinembarra.s.sment,tryingtodenyit,happy-go-luckyalways,likeable,butofvariablegoodsense.

"I"dnever..."Brettbegan,fakeindignationalwaysready.

Igavehimadisillusionedstareandinterrupted,"Wheredidyoupickhimup,whydidhewantaride,andhowmuchdidheoffer?"

"Davefixedit,"Brettsaidaccusingly.

"Butyouhadyourcut."Itookitforgranted;notaquestion.

"Brettaskedhimformore,"Davesaidwithfury."Demandedit."

"Yes,well,calmdown."Ibegantowalkbacktowardsthehouse."You"dbettersortoutwhatyou"regoingtotellthepolice.Didhegiveyouaname,forinstance?"

"No,"Davesaid.

"Orareasonforwantingalift?"

"Hiscarhadbrokendown,"Daveexplained."HewasattheSouthMinimsservicestation,pacingaboutandsweatingroundbythedieselpumps,tryingtogetthedriverofanoiltankertotakehimtoBristol."

"So?"

"So,well,hehadafistfulofreadiesb.u.t.thetankerwasgoingtoSouthampton."

"Whatwereyoudoingbythedieselpumpsanyway?"Iasked.

They"dhadnoneedtotakeonmorefuel,notjustgoingtoNewmarketandback.

"We"dstoppedthere,"Davesaidvaguely.

"Davehadastomachache,"Brettenlarged."Thesquits.Wehadtostoptogethimsomethingforit."

"Imodium,"Daveconfirmed,nodding."Iwasjustwalkingpastthepumpsonmywayback,see?"

BleaklyIledthewayintothehouse,goingthroughthebackdoorintothehallandthenwheelingleftintothebigall-purposeroomwhereIcustomarilyspentmuchofmytime.Idrewbackthecurtains,revealingthehorseboxoutonthetarmac,andstoodlookingat.i.twhileIphonedthepolice.

Thelocalconstablewhoansweredknewmewell,aswe"dbothspentmuchofourlivesintheracingcentreofPixhill,abigvillagevergingonsmalltownsprawlingacrossafoldofdownlandinHampshire,southofNewbury.

"Sandy?"Isaidbriefly,whenheanswered."ThisisFreddieCroft.I"veaslightproblem...Oneofmyboxespickedupahitchhikerwhoseemstohavediedonthejourney.Doyoumindcomingover?He"soutsidemyhouse,notalongatthefarm."

"Dead,doyoumean?"heaskedcautiously,afterapause.

"Imeandead.Asinnotbreathing."

Heclearedhisthroat."You"renothavingmeon?"

"Sorry,no."

"Well,allright.Tenminutes."

Pixhill"stokenpoliceforceconsistedofSandyalone,aWildWestoutpostonthefrontiersoflawandorder.Pixhill"spolicestationconsistedofanoffice-roominSandy"shouse,wherehischiefactivitywaswritinguprecordsofhisdailypatrols.Outofhours,likenow,hewouldbewatchingtelevisioninscruffyclothes,drinkingbeerandcasuallycuddlinghischildren"smother,aplumpladyperenniallyinbedroomslippers.

Inthetenpromisedminutesbeforehespedimportantlyontomytarmacinhisofficialcarwitheveryavailablelightflashing,Ilearnednotmuchmoreaboutourunwelcomedeceasedguest.

"HowwasItoknowhe"ddieonus?"DavesaidaggrievedlyasIputdownthereceiver."Dosomeoneafavour...Yeah,wellIknowyoutoldusnotto.ButhewasgoingonsomethingchronicabouthowhehadtogettoBristolforhisdaughter"sweddingorsomething..."

Ilookedathimindisbelief.

"Yeah,well,"Davesaiddefensively,"howwasItoknow?"

"ItwasallDave"sidea,"Bretta.s.suredme.

"Didyoutalktohim?"Iaskedthem.

"Notthatmuch,"Davesaid."Hechosethatseatbehindus,anyway.Didn"tseemtowanttotalk."

"ItoldDaveitwasallwrong,"Brettcomplained.

"Shutup,"Davesaidangrily."Youcouldhaverefusedtodrivehim.Ididn"tnoticeyousayingyouwouldn"t."

"Andneitherofyounoticedhimdying,either?"Isuggestedwithirony.

Theideadiscomfitedthem,butno,itappeared,theyhadn"t.

"Thoughthewasasleep,"Davesaid,andBrettnodded."Sothen,"Davewenton,"whenwecouldn"twakehim...Imean,yousawhowhelooks...well,we"djustpulledoffthemotorwayattheNewburyjunction...weweregoingtodrophimattheChieveleyservicestationtheresohecouldgetanotherliftontoBristol...well...therehewas,dead,andwecouldn"trollhimoutontotheground,couldwe?"

Theycouldn"t,Iagreed.Sothey"dbroughthimtomydoorstep,likecatsbringinghomeadeadbird.

"Davewantedtodumphimsomewhere,"Brettwhinedvirtuously."Davewantedto.Itwasmesaidwecouldn"t."

Daveglaredathim."Wediscussedit,"hesaid,"that"sallwedid."

"You"dhavebeeninrealtroubleifyou"ddumpedhim,"Isaid,"andnotjustfromme."

Sandy,stillb.u.t.toninghimselfhastilyintohisdarkblueuniform,arrivedatthatmomenttotakechargeintheslightlypompousmannerhe"ddevelopedovertheyears.Onelookatthecorpsesethimsummoninghelpoverhisradio,resultingpresentlyinadoctorandahostofunanswerablequestions.

Thedeadmandid,itseemed,atleasthaveaname,discoveredviaawalletfulofaddressesandcreditcards.Sandybroughtthewalletdownfromthecabandshowedittome,whereIwaitedonthegroundoutside.

"K.K.Ogden.KevinKeithOgden,"hesaid,pickinghiswaythroughthecontentswithstubbyfingers."LivesinNottingham.Meananythingtoyou?"

"No."Ishookmyhead."Neverheardofhim."

Hehadn"texpectedanythingelse.

"Whatdidhedieof?"Iasked.

"Astrokemaybe.Docwon"tsaybeforethepost-mortem.Nosignoffoulplay,ifthat"swhatyoumean."

Thearchaicwords"foulplay"hadalwaysseemedfaintlyridiculoustome,butinthiscaseIwasgratefultohearthem.

"Ica.n.u.setheboxtomorrow,then?"Iasked.

"Don"tseewhynot."Hethought.i.toverjudiciously."Youmightwanttocleanit,like."

"Yup,"Isaid."Alwaysdo."

Helookedatmesideways."Ithoughtyouhadarulenevertogivelifts."

"DaveandBrettareinbigtrouble."

Withaglimmerofsympathyforthetwomen,helookedacrosstowheretheywaitedbythehousedoorandsaid,"Youdidn"tgetyouriron-fistreputationfornothing,Freddie."

"Whataboutthevelvetglovebit?"

"Uhhuh.Thattoo."

Sandyatfortyhadthickenedroundthewaistandsoftenedtopuffinessofcheekandjaw,b.u.t.theresultingairofrusticunintelligencewasmisleading.HissuperiorsatonetimehadpostedhimawayfromPixhill,inaccordancewiththeirbeliefthatapolicemanbecametoocosyandforgivingiflefttoolonginonesmallneighbourhood,andhadsentcruisingcarsinfromoutsidetodohisrounds.InSandy"sabsence,however,thepettycrimerateofPixhillhadsoaredwhilethedetectionrateplummeted,andafterawhileP.C.SandySmithhadbeenquietlyreinstated,totheoveralldismayofthemildlywicked.

SmartyoungDrBruceFarway,arecentPixhillarrivalwhohadalreadyalienatedhalfhispatientsbypatronisingtheminsufferably,climbeddownwithagilityfromthecabandtoldmebrusquelynottodisturbthebodybeforehecouldarrangeforitsremoval.

"Ican"timaginewhyIshouldwantto,"Isaidmildly.

Heeyedmewithdisfavour.We"ddislikedeachotheronsightafewmonthsagoandhe"dnotforgivenmefordisagreeingwithhisdiagnosisononeofmydriversandpayingforaprivatesecondopinionthathadprovedhimwrong.NohumilityandpreciouslittlehumanitycouldbediagnosedinBruceFarway,thoughhecouldbenicetosickchildren,I"dheard.

Leavinghimissuingbriskinstructionsoverhiscarphone,SandyandIwentacrosstothehousewherehetookbriefstatementsfromDaveandBrett.Therewasboundtobeaninquest,heinformedthem,but.i.tshouldn"ttakeupmuchoftheirtime.

Toomuch,Ithoughtcrossly,andtheybothunerringlyreadmyexpression.ItoldthemI"dseetheminthemorning.Theyweren"tcomforted,itseemed.

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