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'And he got deterred。 That's why he gave it up。'
I went； internally； very still。 I said； 'What do you mean？'
'I heard；' he said； his gaze steady on my face； 'that he got beaten with some sort of thin chain to deter him from helping you。 To deter him from all detection。 And it worked。'
'He got married；' I said。
Davis Tatum leaned back in his chair； which creaked under his weight。
'I heard；' he said； 'that the same treatment was doled out to you； and in the course of things the Jockey Club mandarins made you take your shirt off。 They said they had never seen anything like it。 The whole of your upper body； arms included； was black with bruising； and there were vicious red weals all over you。 And with your shirt hiding all that you'd calmly explained to them how and why you'd been attacked and how one of their number； who had arranged it； was a villain。 You got one of the big shots chucked out。'
'Who told you all that？'
'One hears things。'
I thought in unprintable curses。 The six men who'd seen me that day with my shirt off had stated their intention of never talking about it。 They'd wanted to keep to themselves the villainy I'd found within their own walls； and nothing had been more wele to me than that silence。 It had been bad enough at the time。 I didn't want continually to be reminded。
'Where does one hear such things？' I asked。
'Be your age； Sid。 In the clubs 。。。 Buck's； the Turf； the RAC； the Garrick 。。。 these things get mentioned。'
'How often 。。。 do they get mentioned？ How often have you heard that story？'
He paused as if checking with an inner authority； and then said； 'Once。'
'Who told you？'
'I gave my word。'
'One of the Jockey Club？'
'I gave my word。 If you'd given your word； would you tell me？'
'No。'
He nodded。 'I asked around； about you。 And that's what I was told。 Told in confidence。 If it matters to you； I've heard it from no one else。'
'It matters。'
'It reflects to your credit；' he protested。 'It obviously didn't stop you。'
'It could give other villains ideas；'
'And do villains regularly attack you？'
'Well； no；' I said。 'Physically no one's laid a finger on me since that time。' Not until yesterday； I thought。 'If you're talking about non…physical assaults 。。。 Have you read the papers？'
'Scurrilous。' Davis Tatum twisted in his seat until he could call the barman。 'Tanqueray and tonic； please and for you； Sid？'
'Scotch。 A lot of water。'
The barman brought the glasses； setting them out on little round white mats。
'Health；'Davis Tatum toasted； raising his gin。
'Survival；'I responded； and drank to both。
He put down his glass and came finally to the point。
'I need someone；' he said； 'who is clever； unafraid and able to think fast in a crisis。'
'No one's like that。'
'What about you？'
I smiled。 'I'm stupid； scared silly a good deal of the time； and I have nightmares。 What you think you see； is not what you get。'
'I get the man who wrote the Quint report。'
I looked benignly at my glass and not at his civilised face。
'If you're going to do something to a small child that you know he won't like；' I said； 'such as sticking a needle into him； you first tell him what a brave little boy he is in the hope that he'll then let you make a pincushion of him without plaint。'
There was a palpable silence； then he chuckled； the low rich timbre filling the air。 There was embarrassment in there somewhere； a ploy exposed。
I said prosaically； 'What's the job？'
He waited while four businessmen arrived； arranged their drinks and sank into monetary conversation at the table furthest from where we sat。
'Do you know who I mean by Owen Yorkshire？' Tatum asked； looking idly at the newers； not at me。
'Owen Yorkshire。' I rolled the name around in memory and came up with only doubts。 'Does he own a horse or two？'
'He does。 He also owns Topline Foods。'
'Topline 。。。 as in sponsored race at Aintree？ As in Ellis Quint； guest of honour at the Topline Foods lunch the day before the Grand National？'
'That's the fellow。'
'And the enquiry？'
'Find out if he's manipulating the Quint case to his own private advantage。'
I said thoughtfully； 'I did hear that there's a heavyweight abroad。'
'Find out who it is； and why。'
'What about poor old Archbold？ He'd turn in his grave。'
'So you'll do it！'
'I'll try。 But why me？ Why not the police？ Why not the old boy internet？'
He looked at me straightly。 'Because you include silence in what you sell。'
'And I'm expensive；'I said。
'Retainer and refreshers；'he promised。
'Who's paying？'
'The fees will e through me。'
'And it's agreed；' I said； 'that the results； if any； are yours。 Prosecution or otherwise will normally be your choice。'
He nodded。
'In case you're wondering；' I said； 'when it es to Ellis Quint； I gave the client's money back； in order to be able to stop him myself。 The client didn't at first believe in what he'd done。 I made my own choice。 I have to tell you that you'd run that risk。'
He leaned forward and extended his pudgy hand。
'We'll shake on it；' he said； and grasped my palm with a firmness that sent a shockwave fizzing clear up to my jaw。
'What's the matter？' he said； sensing it。
'Nothing。'
He wasn't getting much of a deal； I thought。 I had a reputation already in tatters； a cracked ulna playing up； and the prospect of being chewed to further shreds by Ellis's defence counsel。 He'd have done as well to engage my pal Jonathan of the streaky hair。
'Mr Tatum；' I began。
'Davis。 My name's Davis。'
'Will you give me your assurance that you won't speak of that Jockey Club business around the clubs？'
'Assurance？'
'Yes。'
'But I told you 。。。 it's to your credit。'
'It's a private thing。 I don't like fuss。'
He looked at me thoughtfully。 He said； 'You have my assurance。' And I wanted to believe in it； but I wasn't sure that I did。 He was too intensely a club man； a filler of large armchairs in dark panelled rooms full of old exploded reputations and fruitily repeated secrets： 'Won't say a word； old boy。'
'Sid。'
'Mm？'
'Whatever the papers say； where it really counts； you are respected。'
'Where's that？'
'The clubs are good for gossip； but these days that's not where the power lies。'
'Power wanders round like the magnetic North Pole。'
'Who said that？'
'I just did；'I said。
'No； I mean； did you make it up？'
'I've no idea。'
'Power； these days； is fragmented；' he said。
I added； 'And where the power is at any one time is not necessarily where one would want to be。'
He beamed proprietorially as if he'd invented me himself。
There was a quick rustle of clothes beside my ear and a drift of flowery scent； and a young woman tweaked a chair round to join our table and sat in it； looking triumphant。
'Well； well； well；' she said。 'Mr Davis Tatum and Sid Halley！ What a surprise！'
I said； to Davis Tatum's mystified face； 'This is Miss India Cathcart； who writes for The Pump。 If you say nothing you'll find yourself quoted repeating things you never thought； and if you say anything at all； you'll wi