‘Quarter Horse semen?’ I said. ‘Why on earth would anyone want that around a Thoroughbred?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
A notion was stirring in my mind. Something I’d read was hovering somewhere just beneath my consciousness.
Was it to do with Quarter Horses?
Suddenly, like a switch being turned on, I remembered what it was.
George Raworth had grown up on a ranch in Texas that bred Quarter Horses. It was still run by two of his cousins.
Was that where the semen had come from?
Other things also floated to the surface.
‘Tony?’ I said. ‘Are you still there?’
‘Sure am,’ he replied.
‘Could you ask your professor if he can do one more test for me?’
‘He says he can’t do any more than he’s already done. If the DNA of the semen doesn’t match anything that’s registered, then there’s no way of telling exactly which horse it came from.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m happy with that. The test is for something else.’
‘What?’
‘EVA,’ I said ‘Equine viral arteritis.’
There was a long pause from the other end.
‘What are you implying?’ Tony said eventually.
‘Nothing,’ I lied. ‘I’d just like to know if the EVA virus exists in the semen sample. I read on the Internet that stallions that have been infected shed the EVA virus in their semen for the rest of their lives. Could you also ask your professor if freezing infected semen would kill the virus or does it preserve it in the same way it preserves the sperm?’
‘I’ll ask him,’ Tony said. ‘But I can’t think why. The infected horses at Churchill Downs were all colts. Surely infected semen would only infect mares during mating.’
I thought back to the sound of the air being expelled from the air duster, the sound that had come twice from the Preakness Barn on Wednesday night.
‘How about if you squirted it up a colt’s nostrils?’ I said.
‘But why would you?’ Tony said. ‘Semen up the nose wouldn’t do any good.’
I laughed. ‘Not for reproduction, I’ll grant you, but EVA is primarily a respiratory disease. Ask your prof if inhaling EVA-infected semen would make a horse sick.’
‘I’ll call him straight away,’ Tony said.
‘Good. I’ll call you back in an hour.’
We disconnected.
If I was right, and it was a big if, then Crackshot should also come down with EVA in the days ahead. And if that occurred, George Raworth might have some difficult explaining to do.
For the time being we had to sit tight and wait.
‘The professor will do the EVA test tomorrow,’ Tony said when I called him back. ‘He wanted to leave it until Monday but I convinced him otherwise. In fact, I asked him to go into the lab to do it tonight but he’s hosting a birthday dinner for his daughter.’
‘Tomorrow will do fine,’ I said. ‘Did you ask him the other things?’
He laughed. ‘The professor says that he doesn’t know. It seems that no one has ever done any research that involves squirting EVA-infected semen up a horse’s nose. But he did say that some sexually transmitted diseases in humans could be caught if infected semen gets into the eyes, so he doesn’t see why not, especially as EVA is a respiratory illness. And he also says that, if the semen does contain EVA, freezing it would not kill the virus. It would still be active when thawed.’ He paused. ‘But are you seriously suggesting that the three colts that became ill with EVA at Churchill Downs had been purposefully infected by squirting semen up their noses?’
Was I?
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I am.’
‘By whom?’
‘George Raworth,’ I said. ‘And I think he’s done it again here at Pimlico to a horse called Crackshot.’
‘That’s quite an accusation,’ Tony said. ‘Are you sure?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure, but everything seems to fit, at least it will if the professor finds EVA virus tomorrow.’
I now wished I had taken the air duster from the Jeep. I could have had it tested for traces of semen. But it would have been a huge risk. George Raworth might have seen me next to the vehicle, and what would I have said if he had discovered the air duster was missing, only for it to reappear from my pocket during a search.
‘So what do we do about it?’ Tony said. ‘Should we arrest Raworth?’
‘We can’t. You and I may believe it is true but, at the moment, it’s all speculation and circumstantial. Raworth would deny it, cover his tracks, and there would be nothing we could do. We need proof.’
‘Surely the semen sample is all the proof we need,’ Tony said.
‘But would it stand up as evidence in court? Raworth would deny that it had ever been his. Indeed, the sample might not even be admissible as evidence in a trial because I stole it in the first place. We need something more.’
‘And how are we going to get that?’ Tony asked.
‘I’m working on it,’ I replied.
‘That’s what you said about my emails.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m still working on that too.’
‘Can’t we stop Raworth running his horses in the Preakness? Surely it isn’t right that he can nobble the opposition and still be allowed to participate.’
‘I agree that it doesn’t seem fair,’ I said, ‘but if we make a move now, all we would be doing is forewarning Raworth and any remaining evidence would disappear faster than jelly beans at a children’s party.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘Nothing for the moment,’ I said. ‘And we don’t tell anyone. Not a soul. Does your professor know where the semen came from?’
‘No.’
‘Then let’s keep it that way,’ I said. ‘Ask him to keep everything confidential unless we tell him otherwise.’
‘OK. Is there anything else?’ Tony asked.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Find out what you can about the Raworth family ranch in Texas. In particular, are there any veterinary records of an EVA outbreak?’
‘I’ll see what I can manage.’ He didn’t sound too confident. ‘What will you do?’
‘Continue with my job as a groom,’ I said. ‘We have three runners in the Preakness tomorrow.’
‘I thought you looked very professional with the winner of the Black-Eyed Susan Stakes this afternoon. I was watching you through my binoculars.’
‘Thank you,’ I said.
‘If anything you looked rather too adept and alert, compared to some of the other grooms.’
‘I’ll be more careful,’ I said, making a mental note. ‘I saw a number of your racing team here today. I walked right past Trudi Harding and she didn’t recognise me. She didn’t even look at me twice.’
‘I’ll have to have words with her,’ Tony said.
‘Not yet,’ I said with a laugh. ‘I don’t want her shooting me.’
Tony didn’t think it funny and, I suppose, neither did I.
25
Preakness morning dawned bright and warm without a cloud in the sky, not that I had waited for the sunrise before starting my day’s work. I’d been hard at it for two hours by the time the fiery globe made its appearance in the east.
I had risen earlier than usual to give Debenture his breakfast. His race, the Maryland Sprint Handicap, was due off at half past one in the afternoon and George Raworth had told me that he didn’t want the horse eating within eight hours of race time.
I arrived at the barn at 3.30 a.m. to find Debenture standing upright in the corner of the stall with his eyes closed, gently snoring. I stood silently watching him, marvelling at the fact that such a large bulk could be fast asleep and yet not fall over, especially as he was actually using only three of his legs to stand on, the fourth being slightly bent up with only the toe of the hoof resting on the floor.