Remember Remember (36 page)

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Authors: Alan Wade

Tags: #spy, #espionage, #thriller, #terrorism, #action, #adventure, #intelligence, #WMD, #AlQaeda, #surveillance

BOOK: Remember Remember
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The Inspector helped Brenda as much as he could and phoned the doctor before leaving to ask for him to visit her later that day. He also assured her the two policemen would stay at the scene and be relieved by others to ensure her safety and privacy. He left the house at 12.35 to file his report, which would say there was no evidence of foul play or forced entry. However the death of three people at the same address in a very short period of time had to be suspicious and he therefore requested that priority be given to the lab and post-mortem reports on the three bodies.

Two pints of bitter, the dish of the day, which was gammon, egg and chips at the Bloise Arms and a trip to the post office offered no further help; these people were everyday average village.

Chapter 15

June 12
th
, 18.00, The Ivy Hotel, York.

Alan placed two suitcases on the wooden floor in front of reception and hit the bell on the desk after which a voice called out, “I’ll be just a minute.”

Alan responded, “Fast as you can, you old sod,” and smiled at Jacky. He took her hands in his and looked into her face, “I think we should have a rest in our room before dinner, love.”

She smiled back, looking into his soft blue eyes, “Are you sure you want a rest?”

He chuckled back, “Well, perhaps not just a rest,” as he squeezed her hands and pulled her close, directing one of her hands to his groin.

Her gaze never left his face, “I suppose I should use one of those quotes about you being pleased to see me darling?” she teased; but quickly pulled her hand away on hearing approaching footsteps.

“Hello my old friend,” said Alan as he turned his open palm toward Jacky, “this is Jacky, my latest squeeze.”

Tony took her hand and said, “Hello love, what’s a nice girl like you etcetera, etcetera,” he smiled at her and concluded, “I’m sure you’ve heard it all before.”

She smiled back, nodding her head and squeezing his hand, “Something similar Tony.”

Tony turned and took a key from one of the hooks behind reception, “Your usual room sir, and a couple of drinks on the house before you go up.”

Jacky laughed out loud, “I don’t know if he can wait that long Tony.”

“Jacky,” scorned Alan, “Tony doesn’t want to know that, good grief, you’ve only just met the man,” he then turned to Tony and said, “Yes, we will have a couple of drinks with you my old friend.”

“Not too many though,” she mocked as she sat down at a table, “you know all the problems you have down there after too much booze.”

Alan laughed back, “Why don’t you tell him my life story while you’re at it?”

“Spare me the detail love, I think I already know most of his life story; now, what would you both like to drink?”

“Beer for me and a half of lager for Jacky,” replied Alan as he sat next to her and watched Tony dispense the drinks.

Two rounds later it had been agreed they would all dine together at eight then take an early bedtime in order to be refreshed for the two days racing ahead. As all three stood up Alan motioned to Tony to go into the garden at the rear of the hotel. He took eight or nine paces from the back door, stopped and took in his surroundings, as Tony padded up to him.

“What’s going on?” enquired Tony.

“Those visits you’ve had from the plod, I’m fairly sure they will have wired the place. Have you had any visits recently from telecoms people or electrical engineers?”

“Yes actually, a couple of weeks ago BT called to check the cabling into the hotel.”

“Sounds par for the course, I think you’re wired for sound.”

Tony turned to face a row of thorn trees marking the border of his rear garden and whispered, “You must be seriously worrying these people if they go to these lengths to check on you.”

“It’s a game, it’s only a game.”

“Well the stakes must be bloody high, but that’s your business.”

“Yes it is my business, but I think they will be interested in what you have to say.”

“They can ask all they want, I’ve nothing to say; you’re just a friend, here with some bird for a few days racing and nooky.”

Alan smiled, “With a bit of luck I’ll win on both counts. Now, when we go back in don’t say anything, but change my room to one at the back; just give me the key; we’ll go up and see you down here at eight.”

Alan opened the bedroom door and waved Jacky in first.

“Here you are darling, our little love nest for the next few days.”

He threw the suitcases on the bed and set about searching the room. She unpacked the suitcases and went to the bathroom, emerging twenty minutes later with her hair pulled high in a bun revealing the slim lines of her neck. She wore just sufficient make up to enhance her large blue eyes and full lips and had changed into matching light blue lingerie of, bra, panties and suspenders which held up matching light blue stockings; her high heeled shoes enhancing the slimness of her thighs and buttocks. She stood at the end of the bed and pouted, “I thought I’d wear these tomorrow at the races, what do you think?”

He turned from inspecting the TV remote controller and gasped, “Oh my goodness, you look absolutely fabulous.” He walked up to her and took her gently in his arms, kissing her bare shoulder then whispered in her ear, “But I don’t think you should wear that for the races my love, you don’t want to frighten the horses now, do you?”

“What do you mean, frighten the horses?” she growled.

“Well; if a gust of wind were to raise your skirt and jockeys and horses got a glimpse of this, there’s no telling what they might do,” he teased.

By now he had unhooked her bra which fell to the floor off her left arm, his mouth and tongue found hers and his hands caressed her breasts erecting her nipples. She pulled her lips away and looked into his eyes, “Please, make love to me slowly, and first with your tongue.”

He smiled back at her, pushing his tongue out and moving it slowly around his lips. He lifted her onto the bed, knelt down on the floor and whispered, “I hope you will reciprocate.”

“Oh yes love,” she moaned.

On a quiet road behind the Ivy hotel a man in a white transit van adjusted the crotch of his trousers and murmured, “Lucky bastard.”

June 13
th
, The Knavesmire, York.

Jacky had chosen a black trouser suit, no hat, a matching black handbag and sensible black walking shoes. Alan wore a blue shirt, his lucky racing tie, cream slacks, brown brogues, a light brown jacket and brown trilby hat. Around his neck he wore a pair of light binoculars and he carried the Racing Post. The morning had been spent breakfasting and reading the form of the horses and now he intended to enjoy an afternoon’s racing combined with just a little work to be done to help him with his meeting on the 14
th
.

The Knavesmire is quite an expanse of land and on race days it is home to several thousand people, many of whom walk across its lush grass to the racecourse entrances. However, even with so many people about it was obvious to him that he and Jacky were being followed. He had not found any listening devices in his room the night before, but now thought there might be one in the fridge or the TV remote control. Tonight they would have to go, and if he was right then the dirty sods had listened to their love making. He chuckled loudly, thinking of that.

“What’s with the chuckling?” she enquired.

He took her arm, linked to her and squeezed her close,

“Oh nothing, I was just thinking how private my private life is just now.”

By now they had walked to the small wooden gate at the north corner of the race course, presented their passes and entered into the member’s enclosure. A short walk took them, into the member’s bar where he had reserved a table for two for lunch, which for an extra fee was able to be reserved for the duration of the races, to include high tea.

He removed his hat and binoculars and placed them on the table along with the Racing Post. He had seated Jacky facing into the restaurant while his chair faced the glass double door entrance and he was aware of two gentlemen and a lady who were having a long discussion with the restaurant Maitre d’. He assumed they wanted a table, however their efforts were in vain and he smiled inwardly as the three made their exit, but he knew they would never be far away. He rose and touched Jacky’s hand and said, “I’m going to get some jackpot and placepot cards love, if anybody comes to take an order, get me a pint of lager and one for you.”

He returned just a few minutes later and began to explain to her how to complete each card. He then totalled the number of bets and took twenty pounds out of his shirt pocket to cover the four cards. Twenty minutes later they had ordered their meal; they both chose the smoked salmon and prawn salad starter, followed by the rack of lamb; to be accompanied by a bottle of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc and a Chilean Merlot. He leaned forward and stroked the back of her hand and whispered, “I need to go for a bet and to the toilet love, so I’ll be a little while, do you want a bet with the bookies on this first race or are you OK on the Tote?”

“I’ll be OK on the tote love, see you later.”

He was aware of being followed at a discreet distance by one man but couldn’t see the second who he assumed must have stayed outside the restaurant. He climbed down the empty terraces towards the rails bookmakers and placed a £50 bet, getting odds of three to one, on the second favourite. He then turned and walked the short distance to re-enter the member’s club on the ground floor and proceeded through the main lobby toward the entrance to the gentlemen’s toilets. Only when he entered did he glance around to see if he was being followed into the toilets. He smiled and nodded as he thought, “At least they’re giving me some privacy for a pee.”

He immediately turned and dashed out of a second entrance, climbed two flights of steps and ran to the entrance to the private boxes. He walked along the joining corridor to the third last box and tried the door, which was locked. As he did this a young lady dressed in a black skirt, black shoes, a white shirt and waistcoat passed by. Alan beckoned her attention asking, “Excuse me, but do you know if this box is being used today?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t,” she replied, but if you come with me to the service office we can see what it says in the diary.”

He nodded and looked around him, saw they were alone and followed her to a large room on the opposite side of the corridor to the boxes. He assumed this room was next to the kitchens as the smell of cooking pervaded everywhere, along with the clatter of utensils and the voices of those cooking and giving and taking orders. The room he was now in had cases and cases of every conceivable drink you could imagine along with cutlery and crockery, glasses, tablecloths, centre pieces, candelabra and everything else required to cater for the lucky few who could afford a box.

The girl walked to a desk in the corner at the side of which stood a clothes rack containing various coats; which he assumed belonged to the staff. Also on the rack there were two red waistcoats complete with Thistle catering badges.

She leafed through a large desk diary eventually stopping at the 13
th
of June and shook her head saying, “No sir, that box isn’t in use today.”

“What about tomorrow?” he enquired.

She turned the page and nodded, “Oh yes, it’s in use tomorrow. A Mohammed-al-Bari, “I think that’s how you pronounce it,” then giggled, “he’s booked tomorrow for three to four people.”

“Thank you love, do you know what time?” But before he could finish a male voice called angrily from the kitchen, “Alison are you in there, we need service now for box five.”

Alison looked startled and ran toward the connecting kitchen door shouting, “I am sorry, I must go, that’s my boss.”

“OK love, thanks for your help.”

He watched her disappear into the kitchen, took off his jacket, grabbed a waistcoat off the rack, turned it inside out to reveal a grey backing, put it on and ten seconds later was walking along the corridor with his jacket neatly covering his new clothing possession. The whole exercise had taken him seven minutes which he thought too long to go back via the toilets so he made his way back to Jacky, sat opposite her and took a good gulp of his lager.

The smoked salmon and prawns arrived complete with buttered brown bread. The Sauvignon Blanc was opened, tasted and poured. He looked across at his beautiful companion and taking hold of his glass said, “Cheers Jacky, here’s to a great day’s racing, winning, eating and drinking.”

“I’ll drink to that,” she smiled and clinked her glass with his, “but can I have some gambling money love, just a little to help me do the winning bit?”

“Of course, I am sorry love,” he apologised as he pulled some money from his inside jacket pocket and counted out fifty pounds; then from his front trouser pocket another fifty pounds and passed the hundred surreptitiously to her. She smiled at him, opened her handbag and placed the money in a pocket saying, “Thanks love, I hope I haven’t taken all your gambling money for the day, you seemed to have to empty more than one pocket.”

“At the races, you carry your money spread about you, just to thwart the pickpockets. So you’d better watch that bag of yours closely, or the buggers’ll have it.”

“I will,” she smiled, clasping the bag shut and placing it on her knee.

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