by Valerie Tate
“Insemination.”
He smiled again. “We will come in and catch them in the act, so to speak, hopefully before they actually do it.”
Rosie giggled. “Don’t worry about that! The more I think about it the more I would like to have a Rohdiamant foal!”
For the next two days, when she wasn’t riding, Alicia walked around humming the theme from The Sting which really started to get on everyone’s nerves. On the third day, Rosie called in the morning to say that Jon had called her to report that the ultrasound showed Galaxy, her mare, was ready to ovulate and they were on for that day. She was meeting with Detective Parker to have the ‘wire’ installed and then would be going immediately to King Valley. Parker and his crew would be monitoring things from an unmarked car on the road. From that moment, it was a matter of waiting.
Rosie and Detective Parker told them all about the day’s events that evening over coffee and cake.
“I was so excited my hands were shaking!” Rose told them, obviously still elated with her starring role in the drama. “Fortunately, they just thought I was excited about the breeding. They showed me the cane with Rohdiamant’s name on it and then took the straw and put it in warm water to thaw. Then they emptied the straw into the syringe and just as they were about to insert it into Galaxy, Detective Parker and the other officers burst in and caught them! I think Marci would have hit me if she’d had the chance, she was so angry.”
Alex nodded in an ‘I told you so!’ way.
Detective Parker smiled at Julie and accepted a second slice of cake, then continued the tale. “They both denied any wrong doing and then immediately asked for a lawyer. They’ve refused to say anything more. On the strength of what was on the tape from the wire, we were able to get a warrant to have DNA testing done on all of the mares and foals in Marci’s barn. Once we know who the sires are, we’ll compare the results to their records of mares that have been bred over the past couple of years to see just who the semen originally belonged to. Then we’ll contact those owners. Needless to say, it’s going to cause a lot of turmoil.”
“You can say that again,” Alex agreed. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not sorry that they’ve been caught. I’m sorry about what they’ve done to all of us in the horse community. When word gets out, so many people are going to be hurt, upset, angry… and it will make people stop trusting the system.”
“That is the unfortunate effect of any crime. It means we all have to be on guard.” The truth of what he said was reflected in his tired eyes. This was not a revelation for him. It was his job, day by day, finding the people who rob us of trust.
Alicia was thinking about the confession on Dean’s computer. “Does this mean that Dean didn’t commit suicide?”
“Not necessarily. His confession said he was sorry for ‘doing it’. He didn’t mention Miss Craig’s straw specifically or anything else for that matter. It is possible that he was a part of their whole scam and felt guilty. Hopefully we’ll learn more when and if the Allardyces decide to talk which probably won’t be any time soon since they will doubtlessly be out on bail in a few hours.” And on that cynical note he rose to go. “I’ll let you know when, or if, we learn anything more.”
Chapter 15
The voice on the phone said, “How could you let this happen?”
“I told you it was too dangerous.”
“Don’t blame me. This was your fault. You should have stuck to selling the semen instead of using it yourself. No one could have traced anything.”
“No one would have noticed if it hadn’t been Danzig. It was Alex Craig and her friends who set us up.”
“You knew the risk. Just keep me out of it.”
“Not likely. If I go down, you go down with me.”
There was a long pause, then, “Keep me out of it or believe me, you will regret it.”
Chapter 16
It was weekend of the Spring show at the Palgrave and everything else had to go on hold for three days while Alex, Leah, Pippa and the show groom, Jenny, packed up and moved Sullivan and Westminster to the show grounds. Alex had opted to leave Brin at home and was going only as coach and driver of the mammoth Equine Motorhome. From the moment she had seen one in Europe Alex had known she had to have one. She had brought it home with her like a souvenir the way another woman might bring shoes, or a husband.
The size of a motor coach, it was an RV/ horse transport combined. The human quarters consisted of a cab that resembled the cockpit of an airplane and a yacht interior with a hydraulic pop-out lounge and dining area, a full kitchen that featured granite countertops, convection oven, mini-fridge, Waterford Crystal, silver cutlery and china service for six. There was also a full bath with shower, flat-screen TVs, entertainment centre, massive amounts of storage and sleeping space for six people.
The horses’ quarters were equally luxurious. There were four stalls with padded walls and cushioned flooring. Air vents kept the horses cool, or warm depending on the temperature. Windows popped open and awnings outside provided shade. Closed circuit cameras allowed passengers in the cab at the front to constantly monitor the all-important equine passengers in the rear.
Chris and Alicia were following behind in their car as they pulled into the equestrian venue and parked. They watched, feeling useless, as Alex and the girls set up with the efficiency of a well-rehearsed team. The transport was equipped with its own generator and water supply so they would be self-sufficient for the days and nights of their stay in the park.
That level of comfort was not the norm. Most of the other trailers were modestly equipped with standing stalls for two, four and sometimes six horses and small tack areas. Horses that would be staying over were stabled in temporary stalls beyond the competition rings.
Sullivan and Westminster, already gleaming with braids in place, were groomed again and then tacked up. Once mounted, Pippa and Leah headed for the warm-up ring with Jenny the show groom, accompanying them carrying a grooming box for a last minute touch-up before entering the ring.
Alex, Alicia and Chris followed behind and while Alex greeted friends and acquaintances, Chris and Alicia took in the exciting show atmosphere.
Alex gave a sigh of pure pleasure. She loved showing. Although she knew there were always those riders for whom it was all about the ribbons, she liked to think that most were like herself, dedicated to the purity of the sport, trying to bring out the best in their mounts in the highly charged show atmosphere.
She especially loved showing at Palgrave, her home turf, and hated not competing. But for once, her mind was not on her job and it wouldn’t be fair to Brin. A poor score would just cause more talk. There was still Ottawa and Bromont and then back to Palgrave in August. She and Brin had nothing to prove.
Alex had come up through the ranks and many of the other riders were long-time friends for whom she was Alex or even Al. But to some, she could hear in excited whispers as she walked past groups of spectators, she was Alexandra Craig, Olympic rider. And to one, she hated to admit, she was the person cheated out of a dream of breeding a future World Champion. Giving herself a mental shake, she decided that it was not something she was going to dwell on. It would do no good and it would spoil the day.
Up ahead, she could see a group of her friends. Many of them had been on her call list and she had a pretty good idea what the topic of conversation was. The DNA results had started to come in the day before and, as expected, the foals’ sires were a who’s who of top dressage and jumper stallions. Detective Parker and his staff had already begun the arduous task of contacting all of the people who had used King Valley Breeding in the past two years and since the information highway in the local horse world was worthy of CNN, it was clear that word was already out.
Seeing Alex, they descended on her en masse like birds of prey on a piece of fresh meat.
“Alex! We’ve heard all about it!”
“It’s the talk of the show!”
“We’ve been comparing stories.”
“We figure we’ve all been had!”
“Not as badly as you, of course, dear.”
“But had none the less!”
“The police have been coming to see us!”
“We’re going to get a lawyer.”
“Kind of like a class action suit.”
“Do you want to join us?”
They stopped for a collective breath and Alex was finally able to explain that she already had a lawyer, pointing to Chris who was standing with Ali watching a Fourth Level test, and that she thought they should wait until the police had finished investigating before hiring an attorney. This produced a collective pout but then they agreed that they should wait since they all had their lovely youngsters and really didn’t want any unused semen, but they’d be more than happy to give any evidence needed to put those low-life swindlers behind bars for a long time!
For Chris, the show grounds were a sea of white breeches, tall leather boots polished to a mirror-like shine and cravat-style ties. He noticed that some riders wore jackets that just reached the thighs and helmets but some had long tail-coats and top hats.
“Why are some people riding in top hat and tails?”
“You wear the shadbelly, that’s the long tail-coat, at advanced levels starting with Prix St. Georges,” Alicia explained. “Below that level you wear the short coat.
Since Alex was speaking to friends and out of earshot, Chris asked quietly, “Are all these women Dressage Queens?”
Shaking her head, Alicia whispered, “No. I’ll let you know when I see one.”
When Alex returned they continued on to the warm-up ring.
As they were approaching the ring, a tall, willowy blond sauntered towards them. A vision of equestrian splendour, from the elegant coil of her chignon to the diamond stick pin at her throat, the immaculately tailored dressage jacket to the silver spurs on her clearly custom boots, everything about her screamed ‘MONEY!’.
Instantly summing her up, Alicia nudged Chris and raised her eyebrows pointedly towards the woman as if to say, now that’s a Dressage Queen!
“Alex, my dear!” the woman purred, dripping insincerity. “You poor thing! Absolutely everyone is talking about it! What a dreadful thing to happen. And we were all so happy for you when you were a winner in that breeding lottery.” Malice emanated from every pore.
“Thank you, Shawna,” Alex replied, with a lips-only smile. “We’re still trying to find out how it happened. These are my friends, Alicia and Chris Mallory, who are here to help me.” Shawna nodded dismissively which irritated Alex even further. “Are you riding Rafael today?” It was a low blow. Alex knew from the short coat that Shawna Talbot wasn’t riding the Prix St. Georges test. In fact, she had never ridden it or any test above Second Level. It was even doubtful that she had ever ridden Rafael, her very expensive, imported from Europe with trainer Werner, warmblood.
Shawna’s artfully made-up eyes narrowed, but she replied with a thin smile, “No, Werner is riding Rafael today. I’m riding Caleigh in Second Level.”
“Oh, well, good luck with that. I really have to run. Pippa and Leah are warming up for the Prix St. Georges and I should really be there to give them a hand. You know what it’s like to ride the PSG!”
Alex left, smirking.
Seeing that things were definitely getting frosty, Chris and Alicia nodded politely to Shawna and quickly followed Alex to the warm-up ring where Pippa and Leah had already started their warm-up routines. The ring was crowded with riders of all levels trying to concentrate on preparing for their tests while keeping an eye on what others were doing to avoid collisions, rather like demolition derby.
They stood by the rail and listened to coaches giving last-minute instructions or trying to calm last minute show nerves.
“There’s a woman over there wearing a headset and microphone,” Chris said, indicating a woman in show clothes standing at the edge of the ring.
Alicia followed his gaze. “Oh, that’s a BNT.”
“Is that like a BLT?”
“No, silly! A BNT is a Big Name Trainer.”
“Why the mike and headset?”
“She’ll have a student in the warm-up.” She looked carefully at the riders as they went by. “Yes! See that girl on the big bay? She’s wearing a head-set, too. Her coach will be giving her instructions.”
As riders left the ring, grooms gave gleaming boots a last polish and removed polo wraps from horses’ legs. While some riders took that moment to give a final glance to their test and then put on their jackets, others appeared to be saying a silent prayer. Alicia overheard one poor competitor tell her coach that she’d only had Alka Seltzer for breakfast!
Chris was watching a large, black horse as its rider practiced flying changes of lead in the canter.
“That horse has very hairy legs!” he said, looking at the long hair that started mid-way down the canon bone and fanned out around the hooves. “Don’t you think they would have given him a shave before the show?”
It was a few moments before Alicia could control her laughter enough to explain. “Those are ‘feathers’.”
“What do you mean, feathers? It’s a horse, not a chicken!”
Alicia laughed again. “That’s a Friesian. The hair on his legs is called feathers. Friesians and Draft Horse breeds have it. It’s traditional in that breed to keep it long. The mane is kept long too, but it’s braided so you don’t notice it.”
“What are they doing?”
“It’s called a Flying Change.” She thought a moment about how to explain the movement. “Do you remember ever pretending to gallop like a horse when you were a kid?”
“Vaguely,” Chris admitted sheepishly.
“Well, there is always one leg leading.”
He mentally galloped around a circle. “OK, I see that.”
“When you’re going to the right, the right leg is in front. When you go to the left, the left leg is forward. When you change direction, you give a little skip and change the lead.”
“OK, I see that, too. But they’re doing it on a straight line.”
“A highly trained horse learns to canter on whatever lead the rider asks for and to change the lead on command. You see, they are changing the lead every four strides. As the training progresses, they learn to change every three, two and even every stride. That is called Tempe changes. Later, we’ll see the Grand Prix horses doing twos and ones.”
The tiny rider was a feather herself on the back of the great, gleaming ebony horse as it cantered across the diagonal – ONE, TWO,THREE, FOUR, change lead, TWO, THREE, FOUR, change lead, and on it continued through the turn and across the short end.
“Can you do that on Harley?”
“Well, Harley knows how but I’ve never done it. When I can get him balanced and collected enough, I’ll be able to give it a try.” Then she remembered in dismay that they wouldn’t be at Alex’s long enough for that.
Pippa and Leah both placed in their class. The Friesian had come first and together he and his rider had repeated the tempe changes around the ring in their victory gallop, feathers flying in rhythm.
Alex was congratulating her students as they left the ring with their ribbons when she heard someone calling her name. Turning, she saw three friends bearing down on her – Pat Middleton, Sherri Parker and one she hadn’t expected to see. “Faith!”
“Alex, it’s been an age!” the woman called Faith said, giving her a hug. “You’ve been a busy girl.”
Alex wondered how she knew about what she’d been up to but then realized she meant her competition successes. “It’s great to see you, Faith. You’re right. It’s been too long. Pat, Sherri, Faith, these are my friends, Alicia and Chris.”
Chris sized up the newcomers’ bright eyes and avid expressions – a gaggle of gossips looking for a fix. Pat and Sherri were in show clothes, short coats, but not Faith.
Pat, middle-aged but lean and fit and clearly the leader, ackno
wledged the introduction then brought up the subject that was on everyone’s mind that day. “We heard what happened with the Danzig breeding. It’s the talk of the show. It must have been a terrible shock.”
As she had so many times that day, Alex admitted that it was.
“Have you heard anything more? Do you know how long this has been going on?” the young, elfin-like Sherri asked.
Alex said she didn’t have any new information then asked, “Have the police contacted all of you?”
Pat and Sherri were thrilled to be able to say they had been.
“It was so exciting! They wanted to know all about our experiences with Jon and Marci and how the breeding went,” Sherri began.
Seeing the story slipping from her grasp, Pat cut in, “And then they told us about the fraud and that we had been victims!” The last word was spoken with chilling emphasis. “And they told us there are foals by the stallions that we paid for. Why, it’s like finding out your husband has a child you know nothing about!”
Alex didn’t know what to say to that, so she turned to Faith who had been unusually quiet, whether by design or an inability to get a word in. “What about you, Faith? Have you been contacted?”
“No, I hadn’t heard a word until I got here and then I didn’t hear about much else. It’s hard to believe that this could have happened. So many of us used King Valley. We trusted them,” she added, expressing the betrayal they all felt as she ran agitated fingers through her short, strawberry blond curls.
Pat jumped in once more. “There are a lot of angry people here today. There’s even talk of a lawsuit.” She gave a sigh of pure pleasure.
Taking advantage of the sigh, Faith made another valiant attempt. “I wanted you to know that I’ve decided to get a new horse.”
Alex’s face expressed the delight that only horse lovers know. “That’s wonderful! I’m so glad.” She hugged the older woman affectionately. “We’ve really missed you at the shows.”