Dick Francis's Refusal by Felix Francis

“It’s what the man said when I told him the police were tracing the call.”
    â€œAnd what does it mean?”
    â€œIt basically means
Do you think I was born yesterday?
The Lagan is the river that runs through Belfast. Our friend, as you call him, is smarter than we take him for.”
    â€œHe’s not that smart,” said the chief inspector, “not if what I hear is true.”
    â€œAnd what do you hear?”
    â€œI hear that the more someone tries to tell Sid Halley what to do, the more he does the opposite.” He smiled. “The more you warn him off, the harder he comes after you.”
    â€œAnd where did you hear that?” I asked.
    â€œOn the police grapevine.”
    â€œWhat else does the police grapevine say about me?”
    â€œThat you’re not opposed to taking the law into your own hands.”
    â€œHand,” I said, smiling. “I’ve only got one.”
    He smiled back at me. “Yeah. I’ve also heard you sometimes use that false one as a club.”
    â€œDon’t believe everything you hear,” I said, laughing, although I knew it to be true. “But I might club our friend if I find him.” I made a clubbing motion with my left forearm.
    â€œYeah, like I said, it wasn’t very smart of him to involve Sid Halley when he didn’t need to. Bit like poking a hornets’ nest with a stick. Bloody stupid.”
    â€œHave you spoken to the police investigating Sir Richard Stewart’s death?” I asked, changing the subject.
    â€œOnly briefly, earlier this morning,” said the chief inspector. “They seem pretty convinced it was suicide.”
    â€œWell, for what it’s worth, my father-in-law thinks it was murder, and I tend to agree with him.”
    â€œOn what evidence?”
    â€œNot much. My father-in-law was a naval admiral, but he was also a friend of Richard Stewart, and he doesn’t believe he was the type to kill himself.”
    â€œIs there a type?”
    â€œMaybe not,” I said. “But don’t you think it’s rather suspicious that Sir Richard comes to see me on Wednesday morning about race fixing, then he’s found dead on Thursday, the very day some Irish nutter kidnaps my daughter, demanding that I investigate the self-same race fixing?”
    â€œMmm, I see what you mean. It does look slightly odd.”
    â€œSlightly odd!” I said ironically. “I think it looks extremely odd. So what are you going to do about it?”
    â€œMaybe I’ll have another word with the Hampshire force,” he said, clearly not believing that the opinions of an elderly retired sailor and an ex-jockey were that important. “Meanwhile, will you do what our friend demands?”
    â€œYes and no,” I said. “Yes, I’ll investigate the race-fixing allegations but, no, I won’t file a whitewashed report. Instead, I’ll find out who is doing what to whom and stop them.”
    â€œIf you find the people who abducted your daughter, let
me
deal with them,” he said, suddenly more serious. “The law doesn’t take kindly to interference from members of the public.”
    At least he hadn’t called me an amateur as Peter Medicos had done.
    â€œI thought you said that warning me off was counterproductive.”
    â€œI mean it,” he said, pointing a finger at my chest.
    So did I. If I found the man responsible for abducting Saskia, I’d like to club him good and proper.

5
    W here did I start to find the man with a Northern Irish accent?
    He’d said he was an Ulsterman and proud of it.
    I looked up the population of Ulster—just over two million. Assuming half of those were female and a quarter were children, I reckoned I had about seven hundred and fifty thousand men to choose from.
    I thought back to the voice on the phone. I was pretty sure it hadn’t been a very young man or someone in his dotage. That would cut