“There’s no guarantee anything’s actually going to kick off at this race meeting, is there boss?” Dempsey asked, taking his eyes off the road for a second, during which time it seemed to O’Neill that about half a mile of scenery zipped past.

“We’ve got all the players in one place and a quantity of unaccounted-for explosives,” O’Neill snapped back. “You think?”

“Even so, we could cause a panic for nothing—”

“But if it turns out to be something and it comes out that we knew about it beforehand, we’re going to get our arses handed to us,” O’Neill said. “Can’t this crate go any faster?”

118

“Come on, come on!” Kelly grumbled as she jogged around the outside of the main building, aware this was all taking far too long.

She’d abandoned her coveralls in the van and left McCarron to make his own more legitimate way inside. Now she had to find an opening herself.

The ground floor yielded nothing accessible, nor did the floor above. It was only when she lifted her gaze up to the high second level that she spotted a small window slanted open.

“Oh you have to be kidding me . . .”

But the main stand was a striking modern design, its outside walls constructed of a composite material that could have been metal or plastic. Either way, it was smooth to the touch, each panel measuring roughly one metre by two, but the fixing system left a sizeable recess between one panel and the next. The gap was big enough to hook her fingers into and the narrow toes of her Red Chili shoes.

Despite herself and the situation she was in, Kelly smiled. She shifted the backpack more securely onto her shoulders and went for the first hold.

Once she got off the ground her biggest fear was being spotted. There was no way she could explain away climbing up the outside of the building. Not for any legal purpose.

As if I wasn’t in enough trouble.

She kept moving smooth and slow but making deceptive progress, always maintaining three points of contact, always reaching for the next gap for fingers or toes.

After a minute or so all her attention was focused on what she was doing so that even if anyone had called out from the ground she would barely have heard them, but her luck held. Nobody called out.

Nevertheless, by the time she reached the window her limbs were tight with the effort. The open pane was unlatched but the aperture was much smaller than it had appeared from the ground. Kelly realised that, still wearing the backpack, there was no way she could fit through. She had dangled perilously while she struggled to remove it, thrusting it inside first.

She squeezed herself through after the pack and just caught a glimpse of a cloakroom of some kind before dropping hands-down onto a bench in semi-controlled descent.

Kelly forward-rolled onto her back on the floor, staring up at the utilitarian lighting in the ceiling while her chest stopped heaving and her pulse rate slowed to something approaching normal.

After maybe a minute she sat up. Her initial impression of the cloakroom was confirmed but this had the look of a staff sanctuary and—judging from the clothing hanging on pegs on the wall in front of her and the scattering of shoes—she’d had the luck to land in a female domain.

Kelly propped the window back on its latch and lifted the backpack onto the bench beneath it. She still had the suit she’d borrowed from Lytton. If she changed into that she might just manage to pass for one of the guests. It was a weak plan but she didn’t have anything better.

No sooner had the thought formed than she heard the faint rattle of the door handle behind her. Kelly spun in time to see the door beginning to swing open. There was nowhere to hide, and no time to do so.

Looked like her luck was just about to change.

119

Dmitry opened the door. Standing outside was one of the restaurant waitresses carrying a tray holding an insulated cafetière of coffee and all the paraphernalia to go with it.

“Sorry sir, we’re short-staffed so we’re running a bit behind,” she said, flashing him an anxious smile. “I’ve brought you some to be going on with and we’ll get the filter machine going as soon as we can.”

Dmitry did not return her smile. He jerked his head towards the table and the girl hurried forward to put down the tray.

Harry Grogan was standing at the full-length sloping window, staring down onto the track. He did not turn round when the waitress entered. He had no need to, Dmitry acknowledged, when he had someone he trusted to guard his back.

“Would you like me to pour?” the girl asked, reluctance in her voice.

Dmitry was just about to make her do it but without turning from the glass Grogan ordered, “Leave it. Just make sure we’ve got our proper supply like we’re supposed to, sweetheart, before things get going.”

“Y–yes sir,” the girl stuttered, plonked the tray down and bolted for the door. Dmitry reached across her when she went to grab the handle and saw the fear jerk in her eyes. It didn’t abate when he handed her a tip, even if it was a generous one for somebody earning close to minimum wage. She pocketed the folded note with a brief mutter of thanks and scurried away.

Is this how I want people to behave towards me? Dmitry brooded. Is this success?

He let the coffee brew and poured a cup the way he knew Grogan preferred it, putting it down near his boss’s right hand.

“Make yourself scarce will you Dmitry?” Grogan said then over his shoulder. “I’m expecting company.”

Dmitry felt something dig deep into his gut but was careful to keep his face expressionless. He knew Grogan could see his reflection in the glass and was watching for some unguarded gesture.

“Of course,” he said. “Call if you need me.”

Grogan picked up the cup and sampled the contents with a grunt of approval. “Why don’t you go and seek out our noble sponsors?” he said. “Perhaps you could remind Mr Warwick of his . . . obligations.”

“Of course,” Dmitry said again, only this time there was a touch more enthusiasm in his tone.

120

“Am I glad to see you!”

Kelly gaped at the girl who stood in the open doorway, her mind a complete blank.

The girl didn’t seem to notice this reaction right away. She was slightly on the plump side with skin the colour of strong café latte and an air of bustle about her as she hurried into the cloakroom. “Oh, please tell me you’re the new girl?” she blurted out as Kelly remained frozen with surprise. “We are so short-staffed it isn’t true. Today of all days, and then we were told you couldn’t make it. I mean, disaster or what?”