Trotting in three quarters time (a novel), Part 7

by A.J. Lencroy

Chapter 1 is here.

Chapter 2 is here.

Chapter 3 is here.

Chapter 4 is here.

Chapter 5 is here.

Chapter 6 is here.

CHAPTER 7

On the apron

Hooley eased open the glass door that led to Pioneer Downs Racecourse and paused on the threshold. Morning had settled in gently. Less than a dozen people were scattered on the gently sloped concrete apron that separated the racetrack from the air-conditioned building. He watched horses pull jog carts that traced familiar paths beneath a sky dotted with white clouds, as the rhythmic cadence of hooves on the track mixed with the smell of horses.

Just below him, on a solitary wooden bench on the apron, sat Martha Pettigrew Conklin. She faced the track, motionless, her back to him, watching the horses. In stark contrast to her hysteria and tears during their previous meetings, she sat with a thoughtful stillness, as if the rest of the world was frozen.

Hooley knew she wasn’t there to admire the horses. He wondered why she had texted, asking him to meet.

“Morning, Martha.”

“Thanks for coming.”

“If this is about the case with your husband, I can’t say much. My job is to remain neutral, but I can tell you that the case is still active.”

“I understand. I’m in a much better place. I’m afraid you caught me at my worst the other day.”

“No problem, that happens a lot in my work. Divorces are about as much fun as stepping on a rake every morning.”

She smiled and added, “Especially when the woman rashly married a con man.” She paused and gestured for him to join her on the wooden bench. “Have you ever been married or divorced?”

Hooley sat next to her. He looked at the racetrack and horses as he spoke. “Yes, to both. We were about 20, in San Francisco, sort of a hippie vibe, a pretty girl with long straight black hair. One morning, I said, ‘Let’s get married.’ She said, ‘Why not?’ About seven months later, she said, ‘Let’s get unmarried.’ I said, ‘Why not?’ We were stoned some of the time, so there wasn’t much trauma or drama. I’ve had more hassle getting a marble countertop installed.”

She smiled again and asked, “Never took another whirl?”

“Nah, joined the Navy, had a few close calls in the romance game, time goes by.”

They both gazed at the racetrack and were silent for a little while.

She said, “Did you notice they ride in different carts for practice?”

“Yeah, and they go slow or fast according to the direction. Today is much more relaxed than when money is on the line.”

She sat up. “Hey!”

“What?”

She pointed. “Peter, the good cousin, he just went past. See him, see him. In the blue vest, over by the turn.”

Hooley stood and walked to the fence. As Peter and his horse approached on the next lap, Hooley raised his hand and gave a wave.

Peter recognized him, smiled, and lifted his right hand holding the rein in reply.

Hooley shouted, “Is this the horse?”

Peter, who was now past Hooley, turned and shouted back, “No, this one’s a colt.”

Hooley returned to the bench. “I didn’t realize that you even knew your husband’s cousin.”

“I don’t really. I only met him at the courthouse for the small ceremony. He seems nice. Obviously, I latched up with the wrong cousin.”

“We haven’t dug into Alex Pettigrew’s financial records yet.”

“You can dig with a spoon. The only money Alex Pettigrew has is my money, and despite appearances and bluster, he had no money when he deceived me and impersonated a kindly bachelor.”

“My partner and I can’t figure out how he afforded the racehorse in the first place.”

She sighed, “Here’s how a con man works. Soon after we met, Alex suggested we keep our money completely separate. He was firm on the subject. This was reassuring to me. It demonstrated that he didn’t want my money.’

“Makes sense,” said Hooley.

“About a week later, he also suggested we each put $50,000 into a joint account, for dinners, vacations, theater tickets, whatever. He said you have your money, I have my money, and now we have a little pot of our money.”

“That actually sounds reasonable.”

“Everything the scoundrel said seemed reasonable, especially after constant dinners and too much expensive wine.”

Hooley added, “Paid from the joint account.”

“Yes. For his part, Alex found a bank, barely a bank, more like a loan shark, and borrowed his $50,000 with interest due monthly, for HIS portion of our money.”

Hooley nodded. “So, he borrowed his $50,000, put it in your joint account, and then used the money from that same account to make the payments on his loan? That’s how he had this money to invest in the horse, like magic.”

“Exactly. When the marriage quickly fell apart, one of the first things the lawyers did was freeze all accounts except joint accounts where he still had access.”

“Did he drain the $100,000?”

“Not all of it.”

“The lawyers will sort it all out.”

Martha gave a frustrated shake of her balled-up fists. “That’s the maddening part. This will take time. It has been almost nine months, and he still has some of my money, and he will never lose a dime because he never had a dime. People like Alex Pettigrew never pay. They can’t pay.”

Hooley nodded. “People like that are barely on the radar screen of the legal system. They got close to him once for insurance scams, but he wiggled off the hook.”

“I wanted to murder him, but my lawyer said divorcing a corpse was complicated.” She paused. “Just kidding… sort of.”

Hooley gave a small smile but did not reply. They both watched the horses.

After a long minute, Martha spoke softly. “Imagine the energy it takes a person to lie every hour of every day. Detective, my time with Alex Pettigrew is almost at an end. The money in the joint account is all that remains. I’m not contesting his ownership of the racehorse. I want peace, and maybe a time machine.”

Hooley nodded, “Understandable.”

Martha leaned backward and lifted her chin to the breeze and said, “Before I get out of your life, I just want to mention something that may protect the other partners who are in the Assets Accepted story.”

“Do you know them?”

“No, but I strongly suspect Alex is swindling them.”

Hooley debated telling Martha about his conversations with the ladies from Topeka, but decided against it and just said, “Good to know. I’ll keep my eyes open.”