Authors: Steve O'Brien
Tags: #horses, #horse racing, #suspense mystery, #horse racing mystery, #dick francis, #horse racing suspense, #racetrack, #racetrack mystery
“That’s crazy, Jake.”
“Just telling you what’s going on.”
“Where’d they take him?”
“Don’t know. They took him away in a Prince
William County sheriff’s car about half an hour ago.”
“Thanks, Jake.”
Dan swerved into the center lane, made an
illegal U-turn, and punched it. His best guess was they’d take him
to the station on Route 28. It was the one nearest the track.
AJ won’t last five minutes in lock up.
Dan torpedoed into the parking lot, jumped
from the car, and raced toward the front door. Once inside, he went
to the intake desk. The desk officer was a young kid, yakking on
the phone. No one else was present.
“I’m Dan Morgan.” The officer looked at him
like Dan was out of his mind. “I represent AJ Kaine. I demand to
see him immediately. If he’s being interrogated, I order you to
stop.”
The officer put his hand over the speaker of
the phone and said, “Just a minute.”
Dan reached over the counter and disconnected
the call. “Don’t got a minute.”
“What the—”
“AJ Kaine. Is he being held here? If so, I
want to see him. Right fucking now.”
The officer put the phone down and stared at
him. Dan stared back and gestured with his hands like
do something
. He began lazily punching buttons on his
keyboard. “Might take a while.”
Dan reached into his pocket and pulled out
his pocket dictaphone recorder. “This is Dan Morgan,” He looked at
his watch. “It’s 7:28 a.m. on August 9. I’m at the intake desk of
the Prince William County sheriff’s department on Route 28. I
informed officer—” Dan picked up the nameplate on the counter.
“Officer J. Sterling that I represent AJ Kaine. Is all of that
correct, Officer?” He held the dictaphone toward Sterling.
The officer pulled back like Dan was holding
a snake. “What the hell are you doing?”
He put the dictaphone behind his back, leaned
toward him, and whispered, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m making
a record of my lawful demand seeking to protect my client’s
constitutional rights. This recording will come in damn handy in
the civil rights case I’m going to file if you don’t get me in
there right now.”
Dan pulled the dictaphone back toward himself
and continued. “At 7:27 I informed Officer Sterling that I wanted
to see my client immediately and that any interrogation of my
client must cease. Isn’t that correct, Officer Sterling?”
Sterling reached under the desk, then there
was a metallic buzz coming from the door to Dan’s left. The officer
cocked his head as if to say
go on in
.
The door opened to a hallway with a series of
doors on either side. About three-quarters of the way down the hall
Dan spotted Tim Belker, talking with two sheriff department
officers.
“Who’s the officer in charge?”
The taller of the two officers turned. “I am.
Who are you?”
“I’m Dan Morgan, AJ Kaine’s attorney. I want
to see him immediately.”
“He’s being printed now. You can talk to him
when they’re done.”
“I want to see him now.” He glared at Belker
as he approached.
The officer turned and continued down the
hall. “Follow me.”
“I want to know if you’ve interrogated him,
and, if so, I want a record of everything he said.”
“We haven’t interrogated him yet. Security
guy from the track did. Kid said the gun was his.”
“Bullshit.” He’d have to move to quash that
statement in court. No way AJ owns a gun. He better not.
They walked to a booking area. An overweight
woman in a blue, tight-fitting sheriff’s uniform was talking
quietly with AJ as she was rolling his fingertips on the paper form
pinned to the counter.
“That’s an unusual name. That a family
name?”
“No, ma’am. It’s from the Bible.”
“Well, isn’t that interesting.”
“AJ,” Dan interrupted. AJ looked up and
appeared relieved that a friendly face had shown up.
The woman handed AJ a paper towel and
squirted some liquid into the palms of his hands.
“That’ll clean you up.”
“AJ, come with me.” He glanced at the
officer’s nametag. “I need a room where I can meet with my client,
Detective Manning.”
They moved back into the hallway, and the
detective opened a door. AJ and Dan walked in. The boy went over to
one of the gray metal chairs behind the scarred metal desk in the
center of the room. AJ slumped into the chair and said, “I didn’t
do it—I didn’t do nothing.”
“I know, AJ. I know. I’m going to try and get
you out of here, but it might be a few days. Here’s what I need you
to do.” Dan pointed a finger at him for emphasis. “Don’t you talk
to anyone in here—I don’t care who it is. I don’t care how nice
they are to you or what they promise you. Unless I’m here, you
don’t talk, okay?”
The boy nodded.
“If they put you in lock up, you just keep to
yourself.”
“You mean I can’t leave? Who’s gonna take
care of my horses? I can’t stay here.” AJ stood and waved his arms,
a reflex to the sudden terror that he couldn’t be around horses
today.
“They aren’t going to let you leave right
now.”
“Why not? I didn’t do nothing.”
“I know. Look, I need to ask you some
questions, and I need you to tell me the truth.”
“I always tell the truth.”
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
Damn it.
Dan was
hoping he was still a minor. He could get him assigned to better,
safer youth lock down. That idea was blown.
“Okay. Did you tell Officer Belker—you know,
the security guy from the track—did you tell him the gun was
yours?”
“No. I said I found it.”
“Well, he’s saying you told him it’s your
gun.”
Dan could see AJ getting fidgety. The idea
that he couldn’t leave had never occurred to him; now it was
beginning to sink in. He wouldn’t see his horses today.
“No, sir,” AJ said. “He asked me where I got
the gun. I said I found it. He never asked me if it was mine.”
“What else did he ask you?”
“Nothing. He went through my stuff, then had
me sit in his car until the sheriff showed up.”
“I need to know what happened last night.
Everything.” AJ recounted the story about trying to get to the
flash of light and finding the rifle.
“Okay sit right here,” Dan said. “I’ll be
right back.”
He stormed out of the room and up the hallway
to where Belker and Manning were standing. Dick Latimer was with
them.
“He never said the gun was his. I don’t know
what the hell you’re trying to pull, Belker, but you got an
innocent kid in there.”
“I asked him where he got the gun. He said he
found it.”
“Yeah, like ten fucking seconds before you
arrested him. That doesn’t make it his gun; just means he found it.
What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“Hey.” Belker put his hands on his hips and
leaned toward him. “I hear a gunshot, I go to the spot, I find the
kid holding the rifle, two horses been shot. You do the math.”
“Where’s a kid like that going to keep a
high-powered rifle? He saw the muzzle flash and ran up there.
That’s all he did, and you’re trying to pin the whole fucking deal
on him.” Dan turned to Manning. “You cannot put that boy in lock
up. You can’t. I want him released. Now. You know you don’t have
enough to hold him.” Dan knew he had a weak argument. With a
firearms incident, they could hold him for forty-eight hours on
suspicion without even charging him, but he had to try and get AJ
out.
Belker didn’t back down a bit. “Then I go
through his stuff—he’s got a lead pipe, a big fat roll of cash, and
a syringe that their lab is going to test.” He pointed a thumb at
Manning. Manning nodded.
“Big fucking deal. The lead pipe doesn’t mean
anything. We going to start arresting people for having cash?
Jesus, man, think. And a syringe? Are you kidding me? Syringes
practically litter the backside. Probably not the greatest thing,
but that doesn’t give you shit to hold this kid.” He turned toward
Latimer. “Dick, you know it’s not his gun. Heck, you’d know if he
was carrying around a damn hunting rifle.”
“Absolutely.” Latimer turned toward Belker.
“Tim, there’s no way the kid did this. No way. Kid couldn’t hurt a
horse. Not a chance.”
“Can’t release him. Kid’s a transient,”
Manning said.
“He’s not a transient. He works for this
guy.” Dan pointed at Latimer. “He has a job. His job just moves
from town to town a few times a year.”
The other officer came down the hallway and
handed Manning a note. He opened it, read it, and looked at
Dan.
“Listen, Officer Manning,” Dan continued.
“Let the kid go; let him work his job. After the work day I’ll pick
him up. He can stay with me. I’ll be personally responsible for
him. All these horse attacks have been at night. If you honestly
believe that this kid hurt those horses, then I’ll take him off the
grounds and watch him every night.”
Belker piped up: “He’ll just start attacking
the horses during the day.”
“You ever see this kid around horses? It’s
fucking magical, okay? The idea that he would harm those horses is
ludicrous.” Dan pointed at Latimer. “Dick, you have the slightest
concern about having this boy around your stock?”
“Nope. Not a bit.”
“All I know is I got someone attacking horses
on the backside,” Belker said. “It needs to stop. Some forest fairy
might have left the gun, and the kid found it. Who knows? But this
is the best angle I got to go on, so pardon me for trying to do my
job by keeping a suspect off the premises.”
Manning refolded the paper message and slid
it into his shirt pocket. “We’re not going to charge him. For now.”
He pointed at Dan. “We’ll consider it an open investigation. If we
want to question him, you better have him here pronto, you
understand? We need to find him, we’re coming to see you,” he said,
gesturing toward Dan. “I don’t know what’s going on over at the
racetrack. That’s not my problem. Officer Sterling will have some
paperwork for you to fill out. After that, take the kid and
go.”
Chapter 36
ginny walked across the road toward
Jake’s barn. Beth and Jorge were getting ready to hose off Hero’s
Echo, who galloped for the first time since returning. Jake was
down on his haunches, cupping the left front knee in his hands for
signs of heat. When he spotted Ginny, he stood and pointed toward
his office. Ginny altered course and moved toward Jake’s
office.
“What do you think?” Jake said to Beth, as if
testing her.
She crouched and cupped the colt’s knee.
“Seems fine to me,” she said. “Been off a while.”
Jake nodded and seemed pleased. “Yeah, he’s
fine. We’ll watch him for the next few days. Put some heat on and
wrap him. He’ll be okay. We just need to bring him along
slower.”
Beth nodded.
Jake slapped the horse on the hind quarter,
turning to Jorge. “Rinse him off. Walk him out.”
“You got it, boss.”
Ginny was leaning against the wall of Jake’s
office, studying the condition book.
“Ginny.”
“Jake.”
Jake settled behind his desk and leaned
forward on his elbows.
“Ginny.” He paused for a second. “I need some
time.”
Ginny looked at Jake and nodded. Not a nod of
agreement, a nod that said,
is that
so?
The silence caused Jake to continue. “I’m a
little tight right now—”
“You were tight when you called me. Nothing’s
changed.”
“Bastard tried to kill my filly, so I got to
pay protection money. Will run me dry for about a week.”
Ginny returned his gaze to the condition
book. “What about the juice?”
“I need a week, Ginny. That’s what I’m
saying.”
“So you don’t even got the juice?”
“Ginny, I just need a little breathing room
here. Got three horses in the next two days—”
“You’ll be lucky to hit the board with one,”
said Ginny. He stood and moved directly across from Jake, only the
desk separated them.
“Purse money will be available next week,”
Jake said. “Got a few owners with checks in the mail.”
Ginny looked at him sideways. “Checks in the
mail? Is that what we’ve come to?”
“Give me a week. I can get current.”
“Not good enough.”
Desperation in Jake required him to keep
making offers.
“You know my filly can win that stake.
That’ll clean everything.”
“If
she can win it.
She’s good, but she’s no lock.” Ginny tapped the condition book
against his open hand. “You know, a guy starts missing payments,
even for the juice, it’s liable to make a guy nervous.”
“Ginny, you know I’m good for it. I’m gonna
drop Gentleman Tim down to a nickel. Gotta race next week.”
Ginny whistled long and low.
“He’s worth twice that—three times,” said
Jake. “I own him outright. I’ll get the purse and the claim price.
Between that, the filly stake, and a few owners’ checks, we’re
good.”
“We’re not good, Jake,” he said, tossing the
condition book onto Jake’s desk. “But here’s what I’m willing to
do. How many horses you got outright?” Ginny leaned forward,
pressing his hands against the desktop, getting in Jake’s face.
“Me alone?” Jake asked, pulling back away
from Ginny.
“Yeah. How many?”
“Three. On the grounds anyway. Gentleman Tim,
Pristine Fiend, and Doxter.
“What about Devil’s Harp?”
“I only own half. Along with Chip
Dallas.”
“Okay,” said Ginny. “I want a half interest
in all three, plus your half interest in Devil’s Harp.”
Jake’s mouth dropped open.
“Hey, you’re the one who can’t pay the juice.
Pay my juice, and we don’t need a new deal. But?” Ginny said
shrugging. “Guy starts missing payments, a solid lender’s got to
secure some collateral. Just business, Jake.”