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o gabble； but just to talk my way out。
Tilepit himself might have done it。 He clearly was unused to …and disturbed by…even this level of violence。 His power base was his grandfather's name。 His muscle was his hire…and…fire clout。 There were only so many top editorships in the British press and George Godbar； editor of The Pump； wasn't going to lose his hide to save mine。 Matters of principle were all too often an unaffordable luxury； and I didn't believe that in George Godbar's place； or even in Kevin Mills' or India's； I would have done differently。
Yorkshire said； 'We wait。'
He opened a drawer in his desk and drew out what looked bizarrely like a jar of gherkins。 Dumping the wrench temporarily； he unscrewed the lid； put the jar on the desk； pulled out a green finger and bit it； crunching it with large white teeth。
'Gherkin？' he offered Tilepit。
The third baron averted his nose。
Yorkshire； shrugging； chewed uninhibitedly and went back to slapping his palm with the wrench。
'I'll be missed；' I said mildly； 'if you keep me much longer。'
'Let him go；' Tilepit said with a touch of impatience。 'He's right； we can't keep him here indefinitely。'
'We wait；' Yorkshire said heavily； fishing out another gherkin and； to the acpaniment of noisy munching； we waited。
I could smell the vinegar。
The door opened finally behind me and both Yorkshire and Tilepit looked weling and relieved。
I didn't。 The newer； who came round in front of me blankly； was Ellis Quint。
Ellis； in open…necked white shirt； Ellis； handsome； macho； vibrating with showmanship； Ellis； the nation's darling； farcically accused。 I hadn't seen him since Ascot races； and none of his radiance had waned。
'What's Halley doing here？' he demanded； sounding alarmed。 'What has he learned？'
'He was wandering about；' Yorkshire said； pointing a gherkin at me。 'I had him brought up here。 He can't have learned a thing。'
Tilepit announced； 'Halley says he came to ask me to stop The Pump's； campaign against him。'
Ellis said positively； 'He wouldn't have done that。'
'Why not？' Yorkshire asked。 'Look at him。 He's a wimp。'
'A wimp！'
Despite my precarious position I smiled involuntarily at the depth of incredulity in his voice。 I even grinned at him sideways from below half…lowered eyelids； and saw the same private smile on his face： the acknowledgment of brotherhood； of secrecy； of shared esoteric experience； of cold winter afternoons； perils embraced； disappointments and injuries taken lightly； of indescribable triumphs。 We had hugged each other standing in our stirrups； ecstatic after winning posts。 We had trusted； bonded； and twinned。
Whatever we were now； we had once been more than brothers。 The past…our past…remained。 The intense and mutual memories could not be erased。
The smiles died。 Ellis said； 'This wimp es up on your inside and beats you in the last stride。 This wimp could ruin us all if we neglect our inside rail。 This wimp was champion jockey for five or six years and might have been still； and we'd be fools to forget it。' He put his face close to mine。 'Still the same old Sid； aren't you？ Cunning。 Nerveless。 Win at all costs。'
There was nothing to say。
Yorkshire bit into a gherkin。 'What do we do with him； then？'
'First we find out why he's here。'
Tilepit said； 'He came to get The Pump to stop …'
'Balls；' Ellis interrupted。 'He's lying。'
'How can you tell？' Tilepit protested。
'I know him。' He said it with authority； and it was true。
'What； then？' Yorkshire asked。
Ellis said to me； 'You'll not get me into court； Sid。 Not Monday。 Not ever。 You haven't been able to break my Shropshire alibi； and my lawyers say that without that the prosecution won't have a chance。 They'll withdraw the charge。 Understand？ I know you do understand。 You'll have destroyed your own reputation； not mine。 What's more； my father's going to kill you。'
Yorkshire and Tilepit showed； respectively； pleasure and shock。
'Before Monday？' I asked。
The flippancy fell like lead。 Ellis strode round behind me and yanked back the right front of my brown overalls； and the tracksuit beneath。 He tore a couple of buttons off my shirt； pulling that back after； then he pressed down strongly with his fingers。
'Gordon says he broke your collar…bone；' he said。
'Well； he didn't。'
Ellis would see the remains of bruising and he could feel the bumps of callus formed by earlier breaks； but it was obvious to him that his father had been wrong。
'My father will kill you；' he repeated。 'Don't you care？'
Another unanswerable question。
It seemed to me as if the cruel hidden side of Ellis suddenly took over； banishing the friend and being the threatened star who had everything to lose。 He roughly threw my clothes together and continued round behind me until he stood on my left side。
'You won't defeat me；' he said。 'You've cost me half a million。 You've cost me lawyers。 You've cost me sleep。'
He might insist that I couldn't defeat him； but we both knew I would in the end； if I tried； because he was guilty。
'You'll pay for it；' he said。
He put his hands on the hard shell of my left forearm and raised it until my elbow formed a right angle。 The tight strap round my upper arms and chest prevented me from doing anything to stop him。 Whatever strength that remained in my upper left arm （and it was； in fact； quite a lot） was held in uselessness by that strap。
Ellis peeled back the brown sleeve； and the blue one underneath。 He tore open my shirt cuff and pulled that sleeve back also。 He looked at the plastic skin underneath。
'I know something about that arm；' he said。 'I got a brochure on purpose。 That skin is a sort of glove； and it es off。'
He felt up my arm until； by the elbow； he came to the top of the glove。 He rolled it down as far as the wrist and then； with concentration； pulled it off ringer by finger； exposing the mechanics in all their detail。
The close…fitting textured glove gave the hand an appearance of life； with knuckles； veins and shapes like finger nails。 The works inside were gears； springs and wiring。 The bared forearm was bright pink； hard and shiny。
Ellis smiled。
He put his own strong right hand on my electrical left and pressed and twisted with knowledge and then； when the works clicked free； unscrewed the hand round several turns until it came right off。
Ellis looked into my eyes as at a feast。 'Well？' he said。
'You shit。'
He smiled。 He opened his fingers and let the unscrewed hand fall onto the carpet。
CHAPTER 13
Tilepit looked shocked enough to vomit； but not Yorkshire： in fact； he laughed。
Ellis said to him sharply； 'This man is not funny。 Everything that has gone wrong is because of him； and don't you forget it。 It's this Sid Halley that's going to ruin you； and if you think he doesn't care about what I've just done'…he put his toe against the fallen hand and moved it a few inches…'if you think it's something to laugh at； I'll tell you that for him it's almost unbearable 。。。 but not unbearable； is it； Sid？' He turned to ask me； and told Yorkshire at the same time。 'No one yet has invented anything you've f