Dick Francis's Damage Read Online Free PDF Page A

something for me, something very hush-hush. You must understand it needs to be very discreet.”
    â€œJust hold on a minute,” I said, slightly irritated. “I work for the BHA. I only investigate racing matters.”
    It was like Canute trying to hold back the tide.
    â€œYes, I know all that,” he said dismissively, “but you’re family and I really need you to do this for me. And for Faye,” he added, just a fraction too late. “Especially now.”
    â€œWhat is it?” I asked.
    â€œIt’s to do with Kenneth,” he said, looking around him to ensure no one else was listening to our conversation. “Silly boy seems to have got himself into a spot of trouble.”
    Kenneth was Quentin’s twenty-three-year-old son. Not by Faye but from an earlier union. My stepnephew. I’d met himonce or twice over the years at family gatherings, but I hardly knew him very well.
    â€œWhat sort of trouble?” I asked.
    â€œHe was arrested.”
    â€œFor what?”
    â€œHe hasn’t been convicted—not yet anyway.” Quentin was quite agitated, something that I hadn’t expected to see in my ultra-in-control brother-in-law.
    â€œFor what?” I asked again.
    He looked around once more to make sure the waitress wasn’t hovering nearby and finally spoke softly. “Possession with intent to supply a Class A drug.”
    â€œOh,” I said. It sounded to me like rather a lot more than just a spot of trouble. “Is he guilty?”
    â€œNo, of course not,” Quentin said quickly. “Kenneth swears to me that he’s been set up. The drugs were planted in his flat and one of his so-called friends is telling porkies to the police.” He made it sound as if that alone was shocking, but, in my experience, almost everybody lies to the police at some stage in their lives, particularly if it helps them escape a conviction, and Quentin should know that better than most.
    â€œWhich drug?” I asked.
    â€œCrystal meth. The friend is saying Kenneth agreed to sell him some.”
    â€œAnd you expect Kenneth to be convicted?” I said.
    He sighed. “If the jury believe the friend, then yes I do. We need to show that the drugs were planted or the friend is lying.”
    â€œCan’t the police establish that?”
    â€œThe man has gone walkabout, disappeared completely. Moved out of his flat, changed his cell phone number, and bloody vanished. And, anyway, the police believe that Kenneth is bang torights over this. They’re not even looking. They’re convinced he’s guilty.”
    Maybe that’s because he was.
    â€œCouldn’t Kenneth just plead guilty in the magistrates’ court and pay a fine? Surely it’s not such a big deal these days.”
    Quentin looked at me with a degree of contempt and not a little anger.
    â€œI can see that asking you was a waste of time. You clearly don’t understand the situation.”
    â€œTell me, then.”
    â€œFor a start, it won’t be just a fine. The case has been sent to the Crown Court and Kenneth will definitely go to jail if convicted. But that’s not even the worst of it. He is currently doing his pupilage in chambers to become a barrister. A conviction of this sort would end all that, he’d lose his career completely. He would never be called to the Bar, having been to prison.”
    â€œHaven’t you got some contacts in the police that you can use to get the investigation restarted?”
    â€œDon’t you think I’ve been trying, for God’s sake? But I spend most of my time defending at the Old Bailey, so I’ve hardly endeared myself to the police, and I’ve been privately warned off by the head of the Crown Prosecution Service for sticking my nose in where it’s not wanted.” I wondered with astonishment if those were tears I saw in his eyes. “It’s a complete disaster,” he said with