I stayed for the featured eighth, to watch Eddie Mapes ride the favorite. If he was feeling any ill effects from the experiences of the previous day, he showed none of them as he rode a beautiful race, took command at the head of the stretch and drew away for a six-length victory.
I had placed Debby’s dollar bet and, since Eddie and the favorite paid $3.80 for every $2.00, I collected $1.90 for her. She had made ninety cents profit.
I wondered if I was going to be able to explain that to her.
I wandered down to the security office and asked the gal there if I could use their phone again. I called Shukey’s number and got her service. I left her a message to come over to my place about eight o’clock that evening. Then I called my own service and asked if there were any messages.
There weren’t.
Brandy had a mount in the ninth race, a longshot called Pat’s Guy and it didn’t run that badly. She was gaining in the stretch and finished fourth, so both she and the horse made a little money. I went down to wait for her.
I stood in the hall outside the jockeys’ room so she’d see me when she came down. When she did she called out, “Hi, Shamus.”
“Hi, Brandy. You rode a nice race.”
She made a face. “What a pig. I got the most I could out of him, though.”
“He looked like he was closing pretty good,” I commented.
She shook her head. “Wrong, detective, he was passing tired horses. He wasn’t going by them, they were backing up past him. You better stick to private eyeing.”
I wondered what she’d say if I told her I wasn’t really a private investigator anymore. I mean, technically I was licensed, but I wasn’t really her kind of private eye.
“I need a favor,” I told her.
“Does that mean I get to work with you?” she asked eagerly.
“Kind of. I need to know how many mounts, if any, Louie Melendez rode on Friday.”
“This past Friday?”
“Right.”
“When do you need it by?” she asked.
“I’d like to know by tonight. Give me a call when you get the information. You can leave a message with my service if I’m not home. Okay?”
She smiled and I couldn’t interpret its meaning, but she said, “Okay I’ll talk to you later.”
“Right, thanks.”
I watched her walk down the hall, a little girl who made a living riding animals many times her own weight.
As I turned around Eddie Mapes came walking out of the jockeys’ room. His lined face had a few bruises on it, but it didn’t look too bad. He could still attribute them to the fall if he wanted to.
“Nice race, Eddie,” I called out.
He looked around and when he saw me eyed me suspiciously He walked over to me and was about to say something, but I got my two-cents’ worth in first.
“I came down to see Brandy Sommer,” I told him, pointing down the hall. “I was hoping she could get me some information.”
He was wondering whether to believe me or not. He was suspicious that I might be hanging around, poking my nose into his business again.
“What kind of information?” he asked.
“I need to know if Louie Melendez had any mounts day before yesterday,” I told him.
“Friday?”
“That’s right.”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“He didn’t have any mounts.”
“You remember?”
“Louie is a pain in the ass, Mr. Po. He’s always hanging around, looking to pick up mounts. When he’s not hanging around, you notice. I haven’t seen Louie since early Thursday. He was around in the morning, for workouts, but that was it. He didn’t have a ride that day, and I haven’t seen him since.”
“You’ve got a good memory, Eddie. Maybe you should be the detective.”
He frowned. “That’s your bag, “he said and started walking away.
“Thanks a lot,” I called out to his retreating back.
He turned and muttered, “Don’t mention it, “and continued on.
No mounts, I thought.
If he didn’t have any goddamned mounts, then how did he get so dirty?
Where was he hiding out, and why?
Were he and Penny off somewhere together? Willingly?
Or otherwise?
If this turned out to be a lover’s tryst between those two — but no. From what I’d learned about the two of them, that didn’t figure to be the case.
Then what did figure?