by Brian Cain
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
The Chairman's Handicap Royal Randwick. Different tactics to keep them thinking, Harper left early and arrived with the sun rising over Sydney as he negotiated the stable complex from High Street. He parked well out of harms way and ran straight into an excited Lorraine Wills as he climbed from the cab. She tagged Jessica and Lindy unloading the float and getting to know Flaxmead. A marked difference in attention, from the time Flaxmead was unloaded it was obvious his presence was of interest to all. Today Meadow would run first in a group two race and Lorraine Wills would be busy riding in the race before Meadow's run and the race before the Chairman's Handicap. Lorraine learnt some different things for the afternoon feature race riding Flaxmead. Jessica and Lindy confiscated her whip and gave instructions on laughter, from the time Flaxmead could see Lorraine put her helmet on in front of him it was on. Flaxmead from gate one again carried top weight and the late jockey change due to illness was announced by the race caller as Lorraine mounted Flaxmead for the first time. The effect on betting by the jockey change would not surface as it was too late, Flaxmead started the humiliation of his opposition. He reared up in front of Wolf Sheppard and shook his head and stamped his feet in front of Blunderbuss. Amongst the mayhem behind the stall at the two thousand six hundred metre barrier Lorraine was puzzled but quietly relived as Flaxmead eventually entered his barrier calmly and without fuss directly after all others.
Kerry snow, The Greedy Piggy Creek mob, the Fixed Hole mob, winemakers, lawyers, doctors, council workers, nurses, labourers, the unemployed, news readers, film makers, television stars, rock stars, car salesmen, businessmen, members of the horse racing fraternity just to mention a few jostled for a viewing position. Gail Flametower watched from the members lounge accompanied by Winston Blake. A cast of thousands.
The barrier opened and Lorraine thought someone had screwed a rocket up her rear end. She shook her head in disbelief as Flaxmead headed into free space remembering all she could of Lindys advice. At plus one thousand metres just out of turn two she peered under her right arm and could only just see Wolf Sheppard out of gate five ahead of the pack some ten lengths back. She looked front and hunched down behind his ears peering between them just as Lindy had suggested and gave a laugh in awe. Flaxmead kicked, she swallowed in incredulity her eyes looking like dinner plates. She was concerned he would run out but he just kept going holding the kicked pace, at two thousand coming out of turn four she heard something never experienced, the chanting in chorus of the horses name she was riding. She started laughing out loud not from necessity but from the rapture of the experience, she felt like a child again. Flaxmead heard the crowd and turned it on, the race caller had completely lost it, the track record for two thousand six hundred at Royal Randwick was about to be shattered. Without any encouragement or apparent reason to Lorraine Flaxmead began to cross the track to the outside rail without missing a beat or loosing ground. Lorraine went with him and found why, she could actually feel the chants from the crowd as she flashed past them a few feet away. She could clearly see the faces of two children held above shoulder height by two distinguished and senior gentlemen as Flaxmead thundered across the line Twenty five lengths ahead of second placed Blunderbuss. The crowd had been delivered what they had come to see, a champion break another record.
Flaxmead had not finished with his opposition and Lorraine had problems controlling his antics as he strutted to the winners circle harassing second place getter Blunderbuss and third placed Wolf Sheppard. He settled as Anna and Dylan entered the winner's circle, Flaxmead bowed his head and the two children held him for a few seconds amid a thousand camera shutters.
Lorraine had dismounted and stood next to Flaxmead quietly crying with her hands over her eyes. Meadow and Flaxmead had given her two wins just creeping to first place in the Metropolitan Jockey premiership. Lorraine weighed in for correct weight Flaxmead did his half hour and was lead from the winners circle.
Prendergast and Creighton after receiving their places in the winners circle looked at the horses being led away from the comfort of the member's lounge standing at the window Leyton and the smiling assassin had joined them. "There it is gentlemen, the benchmark for the industry rewritten," commented Prendergast. "No Melbourne Cup for us this year unless you can find something that can outrun that."
"What's with this jockey change, that Lindy Cumberland don't look to sick to me," spouted Creighton. "I'm gonna check all that out."
"I'm sure we can find something to put a stop to this," added the assassin.
Prendergast looked at Creighton sternly. "You've had too much to drink and keeping bad company Nev. If you want to win grade one race's find a horse that can outrun that black thing down there. In two weeks time hell run three thousand two hundred here and be coming our way. Now if you'll excuse me the air here is a bit stale," Prendergast turned his back and headed for the bar.
Between us we got eight runners here next fortnight in The Sydney Cup, I've saved my best horses for the race. If this thing runs them down we need to have a good think about what to do, I gotta win some cash, big cash," added the assassin.
Geoff Leroy blinked many times thinking deeply with a blank look on his face. "Jack's right, we need a horse that runs faster. Doing something crook doesn't feel right to me."
"This is a business Geoff, no place for kids or weak minded entrepreneurs. What's wrong with you we've stuck together before and it's worked," said the assassin.
"I've got kids Theo and a family. Some things are more important than big cash. I couldn't hold face at home if I got involved with a shonky shot and frankly I don't like the idea of it myself. I'm going to have a beer with Jack," replied Leroy.
"You were nothing when you hooked up with us, don't come winging to us when you can't make grade next year. We've given you many a win now you think you're holier than thou," quipped the assassin.
"I like to think I've learnt from my mistakes not capitalised on them," replied Leroy, he walked away to the bar.
Creighton and Delores watched him walk to the group Prendergast was drinking with. "Who's those two older guys there with Jack, and that's Blake bloke who helps Harper out," asked the assassin.
"Cripes that's Wilson Hornswaddle and Bartholomew Fothrington I've seen them at horse sales in Melbourne," replied Creighton.
"Really I might go and say hello, could be handy blokes to know," Delores was about to walk towards them when they both looked sternly at him with their hands on hips obviously displeased with something they had heard. "I might just put that off till later."
"We could be getting in deep here Theo, we can't take everyone on."
"Too late for me I need to win races or loose everything."