Chapter Twenty-One
024
Daily Chronicle, 20th August 1936
GREYHOUND DOPING – HOW IT’S DONE
Matthew Renshaw
Crime Correspondent at large
Here in the great northern cities there is no evidence of the doping of greyhounds. The recent advances the police have made in the matter of detection seem to have put an end to the practice. For the moment.
However, there are rumours that certain unscrupulous men are about to pull off a major illegal enterprise which could net them thousands of pounds. So what do they do? There are several options. They could dope the favourite with a sedative to make sure that it loses and the second favourite wins.
Or, more complicated, they could dope three of the fancied dogs with a sedative, leaving two outsiders winning at high-value forecasts by finishing first and second. A forecast simply means betting which dogs will finish first and second. Then there is the outrageous option of doping every dog in the race except the dog you want to win it, usually a high-priced outsider.
And how do they do it? Here they need the cooperation of the kennel boys and girls. Most of these young people are completely honest, but it’s a low-paid job and there are some who will happily take a backhander. They’ve persuaded themselves that they are not harming the dogs and that a capsule wrapped up in a nice juicy piece of meat will do no lasting harm.
To avoid suspicion bets will be spread around the country. Which, if you remember, is why I’ve been talking to the bookmakers in the provincial cities. My investigations have convinced me that the rumours are true and that by the time the dogs have been tested after the race the criminals will have collected their winnings and be long gone.
So where will this happen? And when? There are so many dog tracks that it’s hard to say with any certainty. But my own recent investigations have led me to believe that I might know the answer. I’m on my way back to London.
 
 
Helen bought her usual newspaper on the way to work and started reading it on the bus. So Matthew had been out of town, she thought. She wondered whether he would get in touch with her when he came back, or whether he’d been so upset by her cavalier treatment of him that he would never want to see her again. Why on earth had she done it? Why had she risked losing the man she loved with all her heart?
Feeling far from happy, she turned the pages of the newspaper to see if there was any news of her runaway sister. Elsie, she thought, what have you done? Helen pushed her own heartache aside and gave way to nagging worries about her younger sister.
There was a small item but it didn’t tell her anything new. Apparently there had been no sightings of the couple despite the fact that reporters from several newspapers had gone to Gretna Green and it was ‘rumoured’ that Hugh Partington had set private detectives on them.
Oh, Elsie, my pet, what can you be thinking of? Helen wondered. Are you so foolish that you have allowed your head to be turned by the first handsome ne’er-do-well that has paid you attention? Or perhaps you were unhappy. It’s not uncommon for girls to marry the first boy who asks them simply to get away from an unhappy home. And what if Hugh Partington fails to find you in time and you actually marry this man? Will your romantic dreams come true? Will he be kind to you once he gets his hands on your money? And what if the Partingtons cut you off without a penny? Will Perry Wallace keep his marriage vows or will he desert you?
Helen closed the paper and put it in her shopping bag. She was surprised to find herself smiling. With all these worrying thoughts swirling round in her mind she knew she should feel more anxious than she did. Why am I not thoroughly despondent? she wondered. And then she realized with a small flowering of hope that whatever Elsie had done and whatever happened next, she might have made it possible for Helen to contact her. The best thing that can result from this mess, Helen thought, is that I will see my sister again.
 
‘I take it you’ve read that?’ Doc Balodis indicated the newspaper lying on Raymond’s desk. It was open at the page showing the article written by the crime correspondent.
‘Too clever by half, isn’t he?’ was Raymond’s snarling answer.
‘He’s coming back to London.’
‘Well, then?’
‘He’s worked it out. He’ll come here. Tonight, probably.’
‘So?’
‘Are you going to go ahead?’
‘Why not? He can’t prove anything.’
‘He can share anything he knows with the police. They’ll test the dogs.’
‘And that will be too late. The birds will have flown.’
‘But not you. You and I aren’t going to make enough out of this deal to vanish like they can. You’ll be closed down here. Ruined. Almost certainly we’ll end up in jail. Well, you will.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I don’t have to hang about. I’m small fry to them. I can collect my winnings pronto and go.’
‘There’s friendship for you!’
‘We were never friends.’
‘No we weren’t, were we?’ Raymond shook a cigarette from the pack on his desk and lit it with the one he had just finished. This joined the other cigarette ends in the overflowing ashtray.
Balodis dragged a chair up close to the desk and sat down. ‘It’s not too late to call it off,’ he said.
‘It is too late and if I did they’d kill me.’ Raymond’s forehead was beaded with sweat and Doc Balodis realized he was deadly serious. ‘Think about it,’ Raymond went on. ‘They’ve got too much money invested in this to write it off. I’ve got no choice. But I’m not as stupid as you think. I’ve spread my bets in places they don’t know about. I’ll make enough to get away. Leave all this behind.’ He laughed. ‘Start a new life. That’s what they do, isn’t it?’
‘Does Myra know?’
‘Of course not.’
‘And the lad?’
‘You mean Joe? He’ll do what he’s told. He doesn’t need to know anything more than that.’
‘So you’ll leave him to face the music?’
‘Why not?’
‘No compunction?’
‘It’s a hard old world, isn’t it? Now give me the pills and go back to the house and tell Joe to come over as soon as he’s finished his meal.’
So it was going to be tonight. Doc Balodis took a small brown bottle from his pocket and placed it on the desk. If only Raymond knew, he thought, he could have got these pills, or something very like them, himself. There had been no need to pay him a fortune for something very like the capsules that could be bought over the counter for travel sickness. But Raymond wasn’t as clever as he thought he was. That was why he had got himself into such a mess.
Time for me to go, Doc Balodis thought. Time for me to go.
 
In the room they had shared ever since coming to London Joe had just finished reading the item about dog doping. He was sitting on his bed and he looked up at his twin who was standing over him. ‘Why have you shown me this?’ he said.
‘Did you think I didn’t know?’
‘Know what?’
‘What you’ve been doing. Taking money to fix the races by doping the dogs. You never talked about it and you tried to hide the money you made, but did you think I didn’t wonder why you could look after both of us so well?’
Joe dropped his head and stared down miserably at his hands still clenched around the newspaper. ‘I never harmed the dogs, you know. No bits of straw under their eyelids, none of that stuff.’
‘I know that, Joe. I know you would never do anything like that and I can’t blame you for what you did because it’s my fault as well. If I’d really cared about what was happening I would have stopped you.’
At this Joe looked up. ‘That’s not so easy.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Raymond made it clear that if I tried to stop now there would be no way he would protect me.’
‘Protect you from who?’
‘The guys behind it, of course. Or the rozzers for that matter. He said I’d end up in jail.’
‘That’s why we’ve got to go. Get out of this.’
‘When?’
‘Right away. You’ve read that.’ He nodded towards the newspaper. ‘That reporter thinks something big’s going to come off. Very soon. The police are on to it, and so is he – Matthew Renshaw, I mean. If the law doesn’t get you he’ll make sure they do. He’s not stupid. He must have worked out what’s going on and he’ll have a pretty good idea of who’s doing it. I’ve told you, Joe, we’ve got to go.’
‘Go where?’
‘Where do you want to go?’ Danny tried to make Joe smile. ‘Is there anywhere you fancy? The seaside? The country? Abroad?’
‘Abroad? What are you talking about? How could we go abroad?’
‘In spite of the fact that you like to spend your money on flashy clothes I know you’ve got a fair bit saved up. We could get on a train and go anywhere in England, or we could get the ferry and go to France. I quite fancy the South of France – be good for my chest down there.’
‘But what would we do when the money runs out?’
‘Find jobs. Waiting on in a beach café, clearing up in a bar, washing dishes in a hotel. There are always jobs like that.’
‘We don’t speak French.’
‘Yes, we do. We were top of the class at school, remember? It’ll come back to you. And anyway, there’s always fruit picking. Lots of foreign workers go there for that and if you work hard you can earn enough to keep yourself for months.’
Joe looked uncertain. ‘Do you think we could get away with it?’
‘We vanished once before, remember. We can do it again. Besides, I don’t think we have any choice.’
Suddenly Joe looked up and smiled as though a burden he had been carrying for years had dropped away from him. ‘OK, I agree. We go. But when?’
‘Why not tonight? Just act normal until everyone is asleep and then we’ll get up and go.’
‘Just like last time,’ Joe said.
‘Yes, just like when we left Haven House. And that worked, didn’t it? Now come on, we’d better go down for our meal or Myra will wonder what’s going on.’
 
Danny, uneasy that Joe had been away so long, decided to go and see what was happening. Doc Balodis had told Joe that Raymond wanted to see him after their meal. He wasn’t his usual droll self and he didn’t lavish his usual exaggerated praise on Myra’s cooking.
Myra had noticed, too. ‘What’s up with you?’ she asked. ‘My steak and kidney pie give you indigestion?’
The doctor looked as though he had to bring back his attention from a troubling place. ‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘The pie is perfect. Raymond doesn’t know how lucky he is.’
Myra gave him a sharp look. ‘Whether he does or he doesn’t is none of your business.’
After that Doc Balodis had said very little and as soon as the meal was over he went up to his room where they could hear him moving about. Danny thought he could hear drawers opening and closing and that made him thoughtful.
Danny had expected Joe to come back for a cup of tea before going to start work in the kennels but the next person who walked in was Raymond.
‘Where’s Balodis?’ he asked.
‘Gone up to his room,’ Myra replied. ‘Funny mood he was in. Do you want Danny to go and get him?’
‘No. Let him stew. And clear off, Danny boy, let a man have his meal in peace.’
Raymond had tried to smile when he said this but the twist of his mouth was wolfish and his glance shifty. That’s when Danny had decided to go across the road to the track.
He found Joe in the kennels. He was sitting on an upturned bucket and staring down at the straw-covered floor. He looked up when Danny’s shadow fell across him, held out a piece of paper and said, ‘It’s tonight.’
Danny knew what his brother meant. He took the piece of paper and looked at the names of the dogs scribbled there.
‘He doesn’t trust me to remember them,’ Joe told him. ‘But I have to destroy that as soon as I’ve done it. Like always.’
‘Have you done it?’
‘Poor old Daddy’s Girl.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘The dog, she doesn’t stand a chance anyway, but I’m supposed to dope her along with the others on that list. And I’m not going to. I’m not going to dope any of them.’
‘You told him that?’
Joe shook his head. ‘I didn’t have the nerve. I just took the names from him and came here. Time’s running out. The owners will be here soon to lead their dogs into the traps.’
‘Can the owners tell if their dogs have been doped?’
‘Not if it’s done properly. They think he runs an honest track. If the race doesn’t go as planned Raymond will kill me.’
‘No, he won’t, because we won’t be here.’
Joe looked up at him hopefully. ‘We’re leaving now?’
‘That’s right.’
‘But what about our clothes? The money?’
‘We can’t go back to Myra’s. Raymond’s there now. We’ll just have to leave with nothing. We did that once before, remember?’
‘But where shall we go?’
‘Don’t worry about that. We won’t be sleeping rough tonight, I promise you.’
 
Helen called at Eli’s on the way home and bought bread rolls, cheese, salami, olives and some pickled red cabbage. She preferred it to sauerkraut. She also bought two large slices of creamy, comforting vanilla cheesecake – two slices because she was hoping that Matthew would come to see her tonight. If he doesn’t I’ll eat both of them, she thought, just to console myself.
She bathed as usual to rid herself of the restaurant smells and pulled on a pair of slacks and a silky blouse. She didn’t want to look as though she had dressed up especially. In her imagination, if her bell rang she would hurry down – well, not exactly hurry, that would be undignified – to the front door. She would look up at Matthew in surprise – in pleased surprise – and say . . .
What on earth would she say? Here her usually fertile imagination deserted her and she knew very well that she would probably fling herself into his arms and sob with relief and gratitude that he still wanted to see her.
She didn’t have to wait very long. When her doorbell rang she forgot all about dignity and she raced down the stairs, fumbling at the lock in her eagerness to open the door.
‘Matthew—’ she began and then stopped in a state of total shock when the door swung open to reveal her brothers standing there.
 
After the initial shock and tearful greetings Danny did all the talking. He told Helen they had left Haven House because they were worried that they would take the blame for an accident in which another pupil had been killed. Helen would have liked to know more about it but he hurried on to tell her of their time living on Mrs Norris’s smallholding and how they had had no choice but to leave when she died.
Joe smiled for the first time since they had arrived. ‘I liked the old girl,’ he said. ‘And I think she was pleased to have company but she never knew there were two of us. We thought if anyone was looking for us they would be looking for twins, so as far as she knew there was only one of us – called Jake.’
Again Helen would have liked to have known more but Danny, with a sense of troubled urgency, hurried on to tell her of their arrival in London.
‘Joe got here first,’ he said.
‘And I’ll never forgive myself for that.’
Both Helen and Danny looked at Joe in surprise. He shook his head. ‘If I’d told Danny to leave the farm first he wouldn’t have got soaked to the skin like that. It ruined his health. His chest’s never been right since then.’
‘That can’t be helped now,’ Danny told him. ‘And anyway, you’ve worked hard and looked after me ever since.’
The brothers looked at each other sombrely and the seconds ticked away. Eventually Helen said, ‘When are you going to tell me what exactly you’ve been doing?’
‘I’ve been working at a dog track,’ Joe said and Helen suffered a twinge of unease.
Matthew’s reports of crooked dealings and the doping of greyhounds were fresh in her mind. ‘Go on,’ she said.
Her brothers looked at each other again and then Danny carried on with their story. When he had finished, when he had told the tale of how Joe had found the job and how he had been persuaded to help fix the races, Helen was appalled.
Joe stared at her miserably. ‘I owed it to Danny to look after him,’ he said.
Helen remembered how it had always been that way. Even when they were small children, fearless Joe had looked out for his more placid brother. She ignored the entreaty in Joe’s eyes and addressed her question to Danny.
‘But you’ve told me that you’ve known where I was for some time – that you’ve been keeping an eye on me, as you put it, ever since you saw me that day in Russell Square.’
‘He never told me,’ Joe interjected. ‘Not until just before we came here. He didn’t tell me he knew where Elsie was either!’
‘So why didn’t you come to me sooner?’ Helen continued. ‘You must have known that I would help you.’
‘I wanted to come,’ Danny said. ‘But we couldn’t. You would have asked us about the accident that made us run away from Haven House.’
‘Are you going to tell me now? Tell me why you thought they would blame you?’
A worrying look passed between the brothers and it was Joe who answered. ‘Because we were enemies,’ he said.
‘Enemies? Why?’
‘Tod Walker was a bully and he was out to get Danny from the very first day. Everybody knew I hated him. We couldn’t be sure whether anyone saw what happened or not, and if they did, would they say anything.’
‘So Joe decided that the best thing to do was to leave that night,’ Danny said.
Helen stared at their anxious faces. She wished she could have simply accepted their explanation and moved on. But she had to know. ‘It wasn’t an accident, was it?’ she asked.
‘It could have been,’ Danny said. ‘It wasn’t planned. When he started his usual bullying on the cliff top it could have been him that pushed one of us.’
‘But that didn’t happen.’
‘No.’
‘One of you went too far. One of you pushed him deliberately.’ This was a statement, not a question.
‘Yes,’ they said in unison.
‘Which one?’
‘Me.’
‘Me.’
Again they had spoken together and Helen, looking at their obdurate expressions, knew that it would be a hopeless task to try and get the truth out of them. And in any case she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. She loved them both equally fiercely and she had no wish to come between them – to damage their loyalty to each other. She decided it was time to ease the tension.
‘Let’s eat,’ she said. ‘And then we can talk about what we’re going to do next.’
The twins soon demolished the feast that Helen had bought in the hopes that Matthew might call. While they were eating she made up the bed in the spare room. ‘You’ll have to share,’ she told them, ‘unless one of you volunteers to sleep on the sofa here in the sitting room.’
‘We’ll take turns,’ Joe said and he grinned.
Helen was amazed at how quickly he seemed to have been able to forget his troubles. But Danny was more subdued.
‘There’s something else you ought to know, Helen,’ he said. ‘I think your boyfriend is on to Joe.’
‘My boyfriend?’
‘Matthew Renshaw. I know you’re close. I’ve seen him bring you home. I’ve . . . I’ve watched you from across the road.’
‘So it was you!’ Helen said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You haven’t always been as clever as you think you are. Matthew spotted you. He recognised you from the dog track.’
‘No, I knew he’d seen me, but he must have mistaken me for Joe. He doesn’t know there’s two of us.’
‘Whichever one of you he thought it was, he also thought that you’d followed him because of his investigations. He thought he might have put me in danger.’
‘So what are you going to tell him?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘If you tell him the truth he would put it in his report. He would tell the police. Unless you asked him not to.’
‘I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t ask him to cover anything up for my sake. He’s too honest. I wouldn’t want him to abandon his principles.’
‘If Joe and I go you won’t have to say anything. Just let us hide out here for a while until we decide what to do. Perhaps you could give us enough money to get away somewhere.’
‘No. You’re not going anywhere. Without me, that is. If we go anywhere – and I think we must – we go together.’
And that means I must abandon any hope of putting things right with Matthew, Helen thought. Matthew whom I love with all my heart. But I love my brothers, too, and they need me. I’ve spent all these years wishing and hoping that we can be together again. And even if it means that I can never see Matthew again I’m not going to part with Joe and Danny now.
 
The next morning the newsboy on the corner was shouting something that Helen couldn’t understand. She never had been able to make out his garbled speech and she wondered if anyone else could. The only word she could make out was ‘’Orrible!’ A small queue waited to buy their morning newspaper and as they moved on Helen saw the news board and the words written on it.
‘SLAUGHTER AT DOG TRACK!’
She waited her turn and while she did so realized that what the boy was shouting was: ‘’Orrible murder! Man beaten to death!’ Numbly she handed over her penny, glanced at the headlined story then stuffed the paper in her shopping bag. And instead of going to catch her bus to work she went back to her flat.
Danny and Joe were up and dressed and making tea and toast for themselves as she had told them to do. She had also told them to make as little noise as possible until they heard the tenants of the flat downstairs leaving and to stay put until she came home from work. She had promised to come home early.
They looked up in surprise. ‘Forgotten something?’ Danny asked.
‘No. Pour me a cup of tea while I read something in the paper and then you’d better read it too.’
 
 
Daily Chronicle, 21st August 1936
DOG TRACK DEATH MYSTERY
Matthew Renshaw
Crime Correspondent at large
Police are investigating the suspicious death of Raymond Costello, the owner of the South Park dog track. His body was found in his office late last night by Myra Thomson, a woman claiming to be his fiancée. He had been badly beaten.
As my readers will know, I was at the dog track last night in connection with my enquiries into an illegal betting syndicate. An unusual pattern of betting had drawn me there, but as far as I could tell, if there was a plan to dope some of the dogs, it was not carried out.
This is pure speculation but if something went wrong, maybe Mr Costello paid the price with his life. Certainly he met a violent end. Miss Thomson claims that she knows nothing about Mr Costello’s business associates. But the police are determined to track these men down and they are anxious to talk to a Dr Balodis who Miss Thomson says was a friend of Mr Costello. They also wish to trace one of the kennel lads, Joe Jackson, who seems to have gone missing.
 
 
‘Jackson?’ Helen said.
‘That’s the name I gave to Raymond when I asked for the job,’ Joe said. ‘Didn’t want to use our real name.’
Helen handed him the newspaper. She thought that for all they were dressed like slightly flash men-about-town they looked very young and vulnerable as they sat next to each other on the sofa reading Matthew’s report.
So that’s where Matthew was last night, she reflected. It’s just as well he didn’t come to see me, for I wouldn’t have been able to let him come in. Nor would I have had an explanation that he could understand. She took the newspaper back and looked at the story again.
‘This report only mentions Joe,’ she said.
‘I never worked in the kennels,’ Danny told her. ‘Like I said, Mr Renshaw only knows about one of us.’
‘But this Miss Thomson might have mentioned that there are two of you.’
‘Perhaps she didn’t,’ Danny said. ‘After all, it’s only Joe that was involved with the doping.’
At this Joe gave an anguished cry.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘This is all my fault,’ he said.
For a terrifying instant Helen thought he was going to confess that he had been there when Raymond Costello was murdered and that he had somehow been party to the savage beating the man had received. But when she saw his anguished bewilderment she was angry with herself for considering the possibility, even for a moment.
‘How is it your fault, Joe?’ she asked.
‘I didn’t dope the dogs last night. The deal went wrong. They had to teach him a lesson.’
‘I don’t see how killing him teaches him anything.’
‘It’s to warn others not to cross them,’ Danny said. ‘That’s the way they think.’
Helen saw that Joe was weeping silently, the tears running down his good-looking young face. ‘Listen, Joe, this is not your fault. It’s Mr Costello’s own fault for getting mixed up with these crooks.’
‘I should have told him I wasn’t going to do it.’
‘You know we couldn’t do that,’ Danny said. ‘He would have handed you over to them. We had to get away for our own safety.’
‘Danny’s right,’ Helen said. ‘And I’m not going to let any harm come to you now. So stop worrying.’ She stood up and gave them what she hoped was a confident smile. ‘I’ve got to go out now; I’ve got things to do and people to see. And if the bell rings, keep quiet and don’t open the door.’
When Helen left they were still sitting huddled together like frightened children. If I had managed to keep us all together when our mother died it would never have come to this, she thought. But I didn’t and I’ve got to make up for it now. I’ve been given this chance to help my brothers, and I can only pray that fate will be kind and that one day the three of us will be reunited with Elsie.
As she hurried to the bus stop she tried not to think that the only person who might call at the flat was Matthew and that she wouldn’t be there – not today or ever again.