Trotting in three quarters time (a novel), Part 9

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 is here.

Chapter 8 is here.

CHAPTER 9

Caretaker

Detectives Hooley and Marchais found Peter Pettigrew standing in the aisle of barn 6, brushing a large brown horse. The horse trainer had hooked each side of the bridle to a pair of crossties. He tossed the brush into an empty plastic bucket, crouched down, and then ran his hand down the horse’s left front leg. He lifted the foot and examined the hoof with the concentration of a man about to repair a valuable clock.

Marchais took a seat on a bale of straw. Hooley remained standing in the aisle behind the horse.

“You might want to move up, even with the horse’s belly, just in case he decides to kick.”

Hooley moved to the side of the horse.

“Figured you guys would visit.”

Hooley scratched his head. “This racetrack stuff is the craziest business we have seen for a long time. We aren’t sure if this is just a messy divorce or a swindle. Let me ask you a simple question. Peter, are you a crook?”

Peter chuckled and slowly shook his head. “No… I am not a crook.”

“Is your cousin a crook?”

“It shouldn’t take two detectives to answer that.”

“Then why in the hell did you get tangled up with him?”

Peter sighed. “I ask myself that every day. It’s complicated. Families are complicated. My cousin has always been very complicated, like the human genome is complicated. But he crossed the line the first day you guys visited.”

“How?”

“He badmouthed my girlfriend, Amy. She can’t stand him. They had a scene. When she called me, I called him, and told him to stay away.”

Hooley took his time. “Peter, I understand you don’t want to get him in trouble. You don’t want any trouble. We don’t want any trouble. But this is my last day working in law enforcement. I’m curious. How about giving us a rundown of the past nine months?”

Using a roll of green leg-wrapping material, he began wrapping the left leg. After a pause, he spoke softly as he worked.

“Alex rolled into town about nine months ago, full of his bullshit stories. Said he was just passing through. We offered him a bed in the basement for one night. That was a big mistake.”

Hooley pushed, “He’s family, right?”

“Right, and our family is a car crash. Lucky for Amy and me, he quickly began seeing the red-haired woman. He spent his time setting that trap, and, like, in a week, he rented a condo. Maybe a month later, they get married.”

“We know about that, but what about the horse and the horse business?”

“Alex doesn’t know diddly squat about horses or horse racing. He came to the barns with me twice, and, of course, being Alex, he believed he knew everything and that he was going to buy the horse I was drooling over.”

“You already had your eyes on Assets Accepted?”

He nodded. “When Alex dropped in, it was fall, the time of year that racing has yearling sales. He saw all my catalogs, worksheets, and notes.”

Hooley stepped forward and stroked the side of the horse and said, “You were horse shopping.”

“Yeah. I have a small stable, usually about five racehorses, ordinary racehorses, not expensive stakes horses. But once in a while I swing for the fences and buy a yearling, an unproven young horse.”

“Some of that is confusing, but I get the gist.”

Peter gave the horse a pat on the chest and said, “You probably won’t understand this either, for those of us who play this sport, out of the hundreds of babies we consider, a buyer can get fixated on one yearling. I was attracted to this horse like steel to a magnet.”

“Assets Accepted?”

“Yep. I knew this filly would be out of my price range. But for my cousin, everything is a challenge, an angle, a con, including me. That’s how he rolls.”

Hooley screwed up his face as if he’d bitten into a lemon. “But, well, he’s Alex.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We went round and round about the horse, and I said I would never get in a partnership with him until I saw his money. Not only did I need to see it. I would need it deposited in my account, no promissory notes, no BS. We had a bit of a scene in my front yard, and he stormed off.”

“Physical?”

“No. Just yelling. The next day, he called me and said I should check my business account. I hung up and checked my phone. I was shocked, more than shocked, to see that $50,000 had been deposited into my account. I have no idea where he got that money.”

“We have a good idea about the cash flow,” said Hooley.

Peter finished wrapping the left leg and moved to the right leg. The horse snorted and shifted his weight.

“The money was legit. I double-checked with the bank. We went to the sale. Alex found the action at the horse auction was in his wheelhouse, the greatest thing he had ever seen. It was exciting. We had to wait for 211 yearlings to go through the sales ring because Assets Accepted was #212 to walk into the sales ring.”

“And you bought the horse.”

“Yes, my maximum was $45,000, but most of us horse folks write that in invisible ink. I had a little horse auction fever. The final price was $60,000. I had $15,000, and after Alex put $50,000 into the account, we could cover the horse.”

Peter paused, gathering his thoughts.

“I figured we were all set, 25 per cent for me, 76 per cent for him, but on the drive home, with the horse in my trailer, he tells me he has two other people who want to buy in. Right there, less than one hour after I do a deal with him, the deal changes. At this point, I’m thrilled with the horse, and nervous as hell to have my cousin and two mysterious people as partners.”

“He didn’t have the two partners going in?” asked Hooley.

“No, Alex said he had an interested person or two. He said not to worry about it. He was so confident that he would sell shares of his ownership, it’s like, if Alex believes something is going to happen, it has already happened. He really is delusional. “

Hooley said. “We interviewed the ladies from Topeka.”

“Then you probably know I begged them not to get involved. Didn’t matter. They each paid $15,000 for the horse and are paying their share of the expenses.”

The horse trainer stood and stretched.

“Now, if you freeze a moment in time, say a day back in March, this should be a happy story. We have dreams of a great trotting filly. We each own one quarter of her and are hoping for a great ride with this racehorse. For Alex, it is probably a free ride. Remember, this is my cousin, Alex Pettigrew, so happy stories don’t stay happy very long.”

“It’s not a pretty story, how he got the money,” said Hooley.

“I’m guessing he grabbed the money from the woman he hustled into marriage, but I’m not sure.”

“What went wrong?” asked Hooley.

“The filly got good.”

Hooley waited.

“The better she got; the worse Alex got.”