“No one knows what they are doing. That’s how it looks to me. Then again, it is a newer kind of virus. But every TV channel or app one looks at gives confusing information. I’m shutting it out. I believe the social distancing will help, but all these predictions, how can you predict something you’ve never experienced?”
“Depends on how much the network is paying you.” Gray felt Cardinal Wolsey play with his bit. “Ready?”
“Of course.” She popped over the jump in the fence line near Tootie’s cottage.
Thimble, glistening today, her coat shining, walked with determination. Her littermates, all out today, followed her, as did the youngsters of the “B” line and the “J” line. The “T” line wasn’t that many years older than the first-year hounds.
Trooper shifted to the north slightly. He paused. Walked a bit faster, then his tail flipped.
Sister noticed his stern as she watched to see if any other hounds drifted his way. They can see a stern as easily as a human. All moved fairly close together.
“Aunt Netty.” Trooper identified the old line.
Bachelor hurried over. He took one big whiff, his eyes bright. “A red fox.”
“A nasty vixen,” Thimble informed him. “All right, you two. Let me sing first.”
Thimble let out a lovely deep baying note, followed by Trooper and Bachelor, so excited it sounded like a squawk.
“Calm down, boy. You sound like a mouse,” Trooper teased him. “Take a deep breath. Do it again.”
“Fox.” Bachelor lowered his voice as the pack hurried over to the three hounds, trotting now.
“Aunt Netty,” Zane called.
Everyone was on the line now but it wasn’t yet so hot that they were screaming.
Weevil rode behind, gave an encouraging shout as his whippers-in moved slightly in front of him on their respective sides. One of the good things about starting the cast in the big meadow was one could see.
Hounds picked up speed, as did the humans. Horses’ ears flicked forward, spirits rose.
Weevil, first over the hog’s back jump, a jump he quite liked…one can grow weary of coops…surged into the woods. The sound grew louder. Hounds ran faster.
Sure enough, Aunt Netty headed toward her den. She was far ahead but as hounds closed, her scent intensified. The old girl, irritated at hearing the hounds, put on the turbocharger, zipped to Pattypan Forge. The terrain favored her. Within minutes she slid into her den. Of course, the hounds would come to her door. Bother.
As the clouds lowered the light grew fainter inside Pattypan Forge. Hounds roared in, surrounded one of Aunt Netty’s den entrances.
“Go away,” Aunt Netty growled.
“That wasn’t a long run,” Aero complained.
“It’s not my job to entertain you,” she called back.
Weevil dismounted, walked to the den. He noticed hounds weren’t digging. Well, Aunt Netty pulled the same tricks over and over again.
“Come along.” He turned to walk back outside, noticed an old wrench on the floor.
Odds and ends, not many, for the space was vast and its abandonment occurred decades ago. Some bits of wheel, nuts and bolts were scattered but not much. Once this space housed a large forge plus a smaller one with coal dumped in a huge pile by the coal chute. The forge teamed with activity.
Hounds turned as Dreamboat gave a passing shot. “One of these days.”
“Dream on,” she barked from her den.
Once outside, Weevil mounted, Showboat being held by Tootie.
He looked at his beautiful whipper-in and asked, “What about casting to the Old Lorillard place? We can take the long way back if we don’t find.”
“Sure.”
He headed in that direction. Betty was already on the road. Sister and Gray brought up the rear.
Noses down, hounds worked. The trail, narrow, meant ducking every now and then to spare yourself a whack from a low-hanging branch.
Cardinal Wolsey warned Aztec, “Someone’s behind us.”
As horses have almost three-sixty-degree vision, Aztec replied, “I don’t see anything but I can hear a crunch now.”
Weevil tooted the horn up ahead. As he did so a black-clad figure, lumberjack cap pulled down and a black virus mask over his face, even over his nose, stepped behind Gray, ran alongside, and pulled him off Cardinal Wolsey.
“Aztec.”
Aztec slowed but Sister tried to urge him on.
The black-clad man pulled a gun, pointing it at Gray’s head.
Sister turned to say something to Gray. He wasn’t there. He always kept up. She knew he didn’t fall off or she would have heard.
Stopping, she listened then turned just in case there was a strange accident and he was knocked out. She soon saw Gray, gun to his head, standing on the ground with Cardinal Wolsey at his side.
Curious, Aunt Netty emerged from her den to peep out of one of the long windows. She crept out of the forge and hid in the bushes so she could watch. She knew who Sister was. The human put food out once every two weeks for her. Aunt Netty didn’t much mind that Sister hunted her on horseback. After all, humans are inept.
The old red vixen also knew what a gun was. Lifting her head back she yodeled as loud as she could. “Hounds, come back. Come back now.”
Trident, bringing up the rear, heard this, as did Aero. “Diana, Diana, turn back.”
Diana stopped, as did the pack. They could just hear Aunt Netty calling. “Come back. Come back.”
“She’s crazy.” Giorgio moved forward.
“No, she’s not. Let’s go. Something’s not right.” Diana turned.
Running now, the pack moved back toward the forge. Weevil had no choice but to turn with them. Tootie and Betty also turned. No one knew what was going on but hounds were now in full cry.
“Goddammit, I’ll shoot those worthless curs,” a familiar voice cursed.
“Carter.” Sister was aghast.
“The same.” He executed a mock bow, never taking the gun off Gray.
Aunt Netty showed herself as she moved back toward the forge. Sister saw her, as did Gray. Carter did not, but hounds were closing.
Hounds jumped into the forge. Weevil quickly rode up behind. Carter took a shot at him through the closest window, which creased his left coat arm. Weevil flung himself on the ground.
“Tootie, Betty, keep away. Someone’s got a gun on Gray and Sister!”
Weevil next dove through a window as Carter fired again. The bullet ricocheted off the stone walls.
Betty, hearing the shot, dismounted, started creeping toward the forge. Tootie, on the other side, did the same. Neither woman had a .38 but each had a pistol with rat shot and each carried her pistol, not knowing the other woman was doing likewise. Tootie also carried her crop. The shots heightened their senses.
Weevil, back flat against the inside wall, slowly moved toward a faraway window. His idea was to climb out and then go around the forge to see if there was a way to disarm whoever that was.
Carter knew he couldn’t walk Sister and Gray out now that Weevil was there with the pack. He’d have to shoot them all.
Betty could now see Sister and Gray held at gunpoint. She knew the pack was in the forge. Tootie, on the far side of the forge, could make out through the windows that Sister and Gray were standing still. She saw Weevil inside. She stepped through a window. He put his finger to his lips.
He jerked his thumb toward a window behind him, then made a gun out of his forefinger and thumb. She understood.
Betty slowly made her way through the bushes. She knew if she made noise or the black-clad figure saw bushes moving, he’d shoot in that direction.
She reached the edge of the thicket. “I’m over here. You won’t get away with it.”
Carter fired a shot in her direction.
That fast, Tootie, now on the other side of the forge, stood in the open window, fired her rat shot right at the black-clad figure. She hit him. He yelled and whirled around. Gray, tall and strong, pushed him to the ground as he whirled. Tootie leapt out the window, as did Weevil.
The two men subdued him as Betty appeared, her gun held level. Rat shot it might be, but if she shot his face, he’d be blind.
Weevil grabbed Carter’s wrist, his knee in the man’s back as Gray took the edge of his hand and smashed it on Carter’s throat. As Carter started to cough and double over a bit, Gray pulled him back up; Weevil took both balled-up fists and crashed them on the back of his head. Tootie, next to him now, hit him with all her might with the back of the gun. He crumpled.
Weevil reached down to tear off his mask.
“Good God,” Betty exclaimed then went to Sister and Gray. “Are you all right?”
Gray put his arms around Sister. She rested her head on his shoulder for a second then looked into his eyes. “I was scared to death he’d shoot you.”
“Betty, call Ben Sidell,” Weevil ordered, a huntsman used to commanding his whipper-in.
Tootie was kneeling down tying up Carter’s hands behind him with her crop thong. “What’s this about?”
“I made a foolish mistake.” Sister reached for Aztec to give him a pat while the hounds, having had a full discussion with Aunt Netty, came out to sit down by Weevil.
“What could you have done? I mean, he must be crazy.” Betty wanted to kick his teeth in.
Instead she reached into her pocket, pulled out a large handkerchief, stuffed it in his mouth. “I don’t want to hear what he says when he comes to.” She pulled her cellphone from her inside pocket, dialed the sheriff’s cell number.
“Are all the horses okay?” Sister asked.
Weevil whistled as Betty and Tootie called out. Their good four-footed friends came to them.
Cardinal Wolsey said to Iota and Outlaw, “You won’t believe what happened. I knew someone was following us.”
A spirited equine discussion followed.
Betty clicked off her phone. “What was foolish?”
Sister, leaning on Gray now, knew she was more shocked than she had at first realized. “I didn’t think of it until I heard his voice. We were talking on the phone about the new restrictions over this virus. Then he told me the painting of Catherine Clay-Neal had been stolen from the museum.”
“It had,” Betty replied.
“Yes, but it wasn’t made public until the next day and when I talked to O.J., she told me it was not yet in the news and how did I know? I replied that Carter told me. She said he had good connections in Lexington. I never put two and two together. He could only have known that early if he was in on it.”
Tootie, heel on Carter’s tied hands, said, “But Carter didn’t know you realized he told you before anyone else.”
Weevil, brushing his coat where the bullet had creased the arm, said, “He slipped.”
“But so did I. I called him last night to ask about famous art thefts. He knew some and we had a good talk. Then I told him what I thought about Munnings’s first wife, Florence Carter-Wood. I was getting too close.”
They heard a siren in the distance, then closer, then turned off. Ben knew exactly where they were and that the last part would be on foot. He had two young officers with him.
“Sister. Gray. Is everyone all right?” Ben reached them, looked down at Carter. “See if you two can drag him out.” He looked at the crop, knelt down to untie it, handing it back to Tootie, who’d held her hand out. “Can someone tell me what happened?”
They spoke at once as they heard Carter’s feet being dragged through the narrow path. Eventually everyone got their story out except for Cardinal Wolsey and Aztec.
“Bear down on him regarding Florence Carter-Wood,” Sister told Ben.
“I will. Then again, don’t expect anyone in custody to tell the truth. We’ll see.” He looked at the hounds. “Quite a day.”
“Yes, it was.” The hunt staff spoke over one another with the same reply in a sense.
“Does anyone need a ride back?”
“Ben, we’ll ride back. Hounds need to go,” Sister said. “Thank you.”
“Thank you. If we can pin this on him it will be quite a sensation.” Before everyone mounted up, Sister hugged each one. “Sorry, I can’t obey the six feet. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Gray shook Weevil’s hand, kissed Betty then Tootie on the cheek. “I have no doubt he would have shot me or used Sister and me as hostages. Your placing yourselves in danger saved us. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Betty stepped into Weevil’s cupped hand and mounted Outlaw. “You know, the strange thing is, I didn’t think about the danger.”
“Me, neither,” Weevil echoed her.
“Me, neither.” Tootie swung up. “You just act. You know? If you think about something too much you’re paralyzed. All I wanted was a clear shot. I knew Betty was out there. Weevil was next to me, of course. We had to subdue Carter before he pulled the trigger.”
“I owe you my life, Gray’s life. It’s a gratitude that can’t really be expressed.”
“Sister, who knows what you’ll do for us someday?” Weevil replied. “All right, children, let’s walk home.”
CHAPTER 36
March 14, 2020 Saturday 4:00 pm
Shaken or not, when hounds returned to Roughneck Farm at one in the afternoon, chores needed to be done. Each hunting hound had paws inspected before being sent to their kennels with a full stomach. Given the rain, no temperature drop but rawness, Weevil warmed up the food. The kennels, efficient, had a small stove off the large feed room for such occasions as well as for helping anyone in sick bay. Despite all, this had been a lucky year in terms of health. Not one hound came down with Lyme disease, bad sniffles, or deep cuts.
Once hounds were curled up in their bunks and the condos, Weevil and Tootie walked over the herringbone brick walkway to the stables. Laid decades ago, too expensive to do now, the brick had gained the patina of age. Rain or not, Weevil was glad for changing his boots into workboots, a rubber tread. Tootie had done likewise. The adrenaline of foiling Carter’s murderous plans had vanished. They were tired.
Walking into the center aisle, their Barbour coats dripping rain, they arrived to help put blankets on the horses, all of whom had been wiped down then left to dry off totally, which they did.
Those outside were brought in as well, although Keepsake didn’t want to leave his run-in shed. He’d hunt in the rain but he didn’t want to stand in it or walk through it. Finally, Weevil wooed him in.
Sister, surprisingly calm for a woman who had a Glock 30 pointed at her, finished up with Aztec. Betty finished, too.
“Well, let’s do the tack. It only gets more onerous if we wait.” Betty walked into the warm tack room.
The others followed, each carrying their hunt bridle over their shoulder. Then they walked back to the center aisle to fetch their saddles.
Sister advised, “Hang your saddle pads over the railing there. They’re all wet.”
Back in the tack room, bridles on bridle hooks, they worked, feeling the supple leather between their fingertips.
As they were too far apart to talk while bringing hounds back, now they did.
Betty, of course, started. “I had no idea. Not even a hint.”
“No one did, Betty. You’d think seeing all his new purchases year after year we would have figured out he had a sideline apart from antique jewelry.” Sister wrung out a sponge.
“So you think he’s been stealing for years? Art?” Tootie asked.
“Stealing, but I don’t know what. I doubt he stole jewelry, because clients would have sooner or later figured that out. Someone might recognize old pieces. You know, like the Erté
ring Yvonne bought last Christmas. It wasn’t stolen, of course, but many foxhunters would recognize it because the deceased owner wore it to hunt balls. That sort of thing,” Sister said.
“He could have pried out the jewels, replacing them with fakes. That would bring a lot of money,” Weevil suggested. “It would, but the people he sold to, like Delores Buckingham, would have everything appraised by a local jeweler. He couldn’t afford it.”
“His jewelry ran to the thousands. Thirty thousand and more for those pieces with big jewels. True old pearls. Think of Antique Hunt jewelry, the stuff E. B. Stutts has. Horns, lovely gold stock pins, lots of crops. Some of it can be a thousand or more but most of it is affordable.”
Betty, using a clean cloth now, wiped down the cleaned bridle. “E.B. can find Jasperware. Do you know how much I want a teapot and creamer, sugar boat? Oh, I love that stuff.”
“Carter’s competition would have been Marion at Horse Country but he wisely left the hunting stuff, the expensive jewelry, to her. Although once he offered a pin owned by the late Mrs. Markey, of her racing colors, all in precious stones. But in the main he did not go for that. And shocking as all this is, he did have a great eye.” Sister gave him credit.
“What were her colors?” Tootie asked.
“Devil’s red and blue. But those were sold to a Brazilian investment group,” Sister replied.
“You can do that? Sell your colors?” Tootie was aghast.
“Yes.” Sister shrugged. “Remember Citation raced under that devil’s red and blue. He’s my hero, Citation.” Sister smiled. “Back to Carter. How did you all know Gray and I were trapped at Pattypan Forge?”
Weevil wiped his hands. “We didn’t. Betty, Tootie, and I had hounds marching toward the Old Lorillard place and they stopped. Just stopped. I could see how intently they listened and then they turned and ran back. I thought maybe they picked up another line. Once I got near I could see Cardinal Wolsey and Aztec, but I couldn’t see you all clearly. Knew something was wrong, then hounds blasted into the forge and he took a potshot at me.”
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