Read Online Warned Off by Joe Mcnally, Richard Pitman - Free Book Online

to upset you?’
    ‘More like what hasn’t he done. He never
turns up when he says he will, never rings, never buys you what he promises,
screws around ...’ She hunched forward glaring at me as though it was my fault.
    ‘So you’d fallen out?’ I asked.
    ‘Not as far as he was concerned, but as far
as it goes with me we’re finished.’ She sat back folding her arms. I was
beginning to feel like an agony aunt.
    ‘Can you remember when you last saw
him?’
    ‘I haven’t seen him since before
Cheltenham.’ She sulked.
    ‘And he hasn’t phoned?’
    She stared at me, weighing things up.
Finally she said, ‘He phoned two days ago.’
    ‘From where?’ I asked.
    ‘Fuck ‘em Farm?’ She waited for my
reaction.
    ‘Not a place I’m familiar with.’  I
said
    ‘You sure? Never been to an orgy or
anything there with your mate Alan?’ She was getting angry.
    ‘Priscilla, I haven’t a clue what you’re
talking about. What did Alan say?’
    She stared at me. ‘He said, “Help me,
Priss, I’m at Fuck ‘em farm.” Then I heard him laughing and hung up on the
bastard.’
    ‘You sure he was laughing?’
    She was glaring now, maybe at the memory
or at me questioning her interpretation of the call. She leaned toward me
aggressively. ‘Listen, he was screeching with laughter. Fuck ‘em farm!
Big joke, eh? He always thought practical jokes were funny. I never did and that
just egged him on with his piss-taking.’
    ‘Why would he be laughing after asking
you for help?’
    ‘I’m telling you! That’s what it sounded
like to me. He was always taking the piss. Probably in bed with some bitch and
thought he’d have a laugh at my expense.’
    ‘Supposing he was in trouble?’
    She looked uncomfortable. ‘What kind of
trouble?’
    ‘I don’t know. You said he was
screeching?’
    ‘He was ... It sounded, well you know
that high-pitched kind of ...’
    ‘Did he sound scared?’
    She hesitated then said, ‘I suppose, if
I didn’t know what he could be like, I’d have taken it as sounding scared.’ Her
look hardened again. She said, ‘Is this something to do with this deal you’re
in with him? Has it got him in trouble?’
    ‘It can’t have done,’ I said, ‘it’s a
straightforward, upfront property deal. All above board.’
    ‘He never did anything straightforward
in his life.’ She said, slugging down the rest of her drink. I pointed to her
glass. ‘Same again?’  I asked. She pushed the glass away. ‘No, thanks.’
    ‘Did Alan talk much about his job with
Basil Roscoe?’
    ‘I think you’re not understanding our
relationship Mister Malloy. I didn’t give a toss about his job with Roscoe so I
never asked about it.’
    ‘And he didn’t say anything about
it?’
    ‘If he did, he’d have got the rubber ear
from me so I wouldn’t remember.’
    ‘You ever hear him mention a guy called
Perlman?’
    ‘Nope ... You think these people have
got something against him?’
    I sighed. ‘I don’t know.’
    ‘What are you going to do now then?’
    ‘Try and find out where fuck’ em farm
is.’
    For the first time she smiled. ‘You’re
serious?’
    I shrugged. ‘I’ve got nothing else to
do, especially if this deal falls through.’
    ‘So you think Alan will still be at this
fuck ‘em farm, eh? Like, mucking out the whores or something?’
    It was my turn to smile. ‘Maybe.’
    ‘Good luck with that and do let me know
if you find him so I can twist his little balls off.’ She got up.
    I looked at her. ‘I thought you were
worried?’
    Hoisting her bag strap on the shoulder
of the red leather jacket she looked down at me and said, ‘Life’s too short.’
     

12
     
    Fuck
‘em Farm. Maybe it was a nickname for some brothel or other. If Harle knew it
by that name, other jocks would too. Most jockeys are highly-sexed.
Psychologists will tell you it’s all linked to the danger and adrenaline and
the ‘today-could-be-my-last’ culture. I rang three riders that I knew had the
same