Free Dick Francis's Refusal by Felix Francis Page B

also careful when we arrived back at the house, leaving Marina and Saskia in the locked car while I checked for unwanted guests lurking in the undergrowth.
    â€œWe can’t go on living like this,” Marina said in desperation when we were all safely inside and I’d relocked all the doors. “I can’t get you to search the garden every time I need to put the dogs out.”
    â€œNo,” I agreed, “but the dogs will bark if they hear anything.”
    â€œBut what are
you
going to do about it?” she asked.
    â€œWhat can I do?”
    â€œGet the police to stop this McCusker man terrorizing our lives. They can arrest him for kidnapping Sassy from school, for a start. Go and call them now.” It was not a request but a demand.
    â€œOK,” I said, “I will.”
    I went into my office and Marina followed. I called the number on the chief inspector’s business card.
    â€œDetective Chief Inspector Watkinson, please,” I said to the person who answered.
    â€œHe’s off duty,” came the reply.
    â€œCould you please ask him to ring Sid Halley?”
    â€œOh, hello, Mr. Halley. This is Detective Sergeant Lynch. I came with the chief inspector to your house on Thursday afternoon. Can I help?”
    â€œI may know the identity of the man on the phone, the one with the Northern Irish accent.”
    â€œWho is it?” D.S. Lynch asked.
    â€œA man called Billy McCusker, from West Belfast.”
    â€œYou say you think he may be the one?” said the sergeant. “Or he may not be?”
    â€œI can’t be certain.”
    â€œI can’t arrest a man for kidnapping if you only think he may be responsible, now can I? What evidence do you have?”
    What did I have? Only Paddy O’Fitch’s Guinness-fueled rambling and a brief break in Jimmy Guernsey’s stride when I’d called out the name Billy McCusker. Even I could see it didn’t amount to much.
    â€œNot much,” I conceded, “but surely it’s a name worth pursuing?”
    â€œI will make a note of it and discuss it with the chief inspector on Monday.”
    â€œWhat about us?” I interjected strongly. “My family and I feel that we are living under a threat from this man, and the police aren’t taking our security seriously. He’s taken my daughter once from her school, and I have absolutely no intention of letting him take her again. We need some police protection.”
    Marina was nodding in approval alongside me.
    â€œI will also discuss that with the chief inspector.”
    â€œWhat about over the weekend?” I said.
    â€œMr. Halley, I’m sorry but we simply don’t have the manpower to provide you with a personal bodyguard. I advise you to keep all your doors locked and call me again if this man McCusker contacts you. The chief inspector will be sure to call you on Monday.”
    I felt I was being fobbed off and my genuine concerns for our safety were being underestimated or dismissed. But I was not surprised. I’d had lots of dealings with the police over the years, and it was always my belief that they were much happier investigating serious crimes than they were trying to prevent them in the first place—look at the number of violent crimes committed by those out on bail, awaiting trial for previous violent offenses.
    â€œWell?” said Marina, who’d only been listening to my side of the conversation.
    â€œThe sergeant said he’ll discuss it with Chief Inspector Watkinson, and they’ll let us know on Monday.”
    â€œMonday!” she screamed. “We might all be dead by Monday.”
    â€œMarina, my love, calm down,” I said, trying my best to soothe her anxiety. “If necessary, I will have to do what this man asks—at least until Monday.”
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    I SPENT most of the evening at my computer in my office researching the Troubles in