Lady Elsmere called about three in the afternoon. She wanted me to come over. I was in the midst of bottling Wildflower honey and said I would be over after I finished and had taken a shower. Bottling honey is a sticky affair, especially since I tend to drop bottles or fail to close the spigot quickly enough to stop the flow of thick tasty honey. In other words, I make a mess. The good thing is that when finished, I leave the door open to the honey house so the bees clean up everything—honey spilled on the floor, the honey dregs from the machine, and they even lick off microscopic bits of honey from the bottles. Presto—it’s like magic.
I finished my work, took a hot shower, put on clean clothes, and ambled over to Lady Elsmere’s Big House. I found her on the patio smoking a cigarette.
“You know you’re not supposed to have those,” I rebuked.
“Leave me be, Josiah.”
“What did you want, June? To tell me that Last Chance has been found?” I was hoping she had good news.
“If only.” Lady Elsmere took a deep draw on her cigarette. “I have something I wanted to show you.” She pointed toward the back kitchen door where Asa emerged carrying a tray of strawberry scones and a pot of tea with a bourbon bottle sticking out from her pocket.
“Hi, Mom.” Asa placed the tray on the patio table and pulled the bottle out from her pocket.
“When did you get in?” I asked, astonished. As Asa sat in the chair next to me, I caught a whiff of horse sweat and manure.
“A day ago.”
“Why didn’t you come home?”
“I had to get some leads first. You distract me.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Oh, did you hear that, June? I am distracting.”
Lady Elsmere barked, “Hush, Josiah. You two can argue later.”
I shut my mouth, but pursed my lips directing my irritation at Asa. She ignored me.
“What did you find out, Asa?” Lady Elsmere asked.
“Well, Miss June, you’ve been stirring up the pot.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, looking back and forth between them.
Lady Elsmere replied, “I think Asa is referring to my legislative activism.”
Asa said, “If you get your way, the racing world will change drastically. The powers that be in racing are afraid their pocketbooks will take a hit.”
“There are too many accidents on the track, too many doped-up horses, too many injured jockeys, and too many abandoned race horses. Racing used to be the number one sport in America besides baseball. Everyone used to go to the races. Now the races have lost their glamour. No one wants to see horses spill on the track injuring jockeys. Something has got to change,” Lady Elsmere countered.
“I don’t disagree, Miss June, but many horse farms are just hanging on. People don’t appreciate what it costs to run a horse farm and that includes Thoroughbreds, Saddlebreds, and Standardbreds. The money spent on the upkeep of fences alone threatens to squeeze the little guy out from the racing world. It’s gotten so that only billionaires can own these farms. The average owner is being forced to sell their farms to developers who throw up subdivisions and tacky strip malls. What you’re proposing would bring about the loss of more farms and horse people finding themselves in the unemployment line,” Asa retorted heatedly.
I held up my hands. “Whoa there, ladies. We are all working for the same cause. Let’s simmer down.”
Asa looked embarrassed which was rare for her. “I’m sorry, Miss June. I forgot that I’m here to find Last Chance.”
“June, if you can’t get the law changed, would you still allow Last Chance to run in the Kentucky Derby at three years of age?” I asked.
Lady Elsmere nodded. “Call me a hypocrite if you like, but I am winding down, girls. I would take that chance. I want to have a Kentucky Derby winner before I die—God forgive me.”
Pouring three cups of tea each with a splash of bourbon, I said, “Let’s not get so maudlin. You’re not dead yet, June, and most horses start racing at two years old and retire to stud without an incident.” I turned to Asa. “What did you find out?”
“I had two people tell me that the kidnapping was a warning for you to stop meddling, Miss June. People don’t like it when you mess with their pocketbooks.”
Lady Elsmere looked surprised. “It had nothing to do with jealousy? My rivals?”
Asa answered, “Maybe a little of both. There was a tip the syndicate might be involved, but I think the danger is closer to home.”
“Is the colt still alive?” June asked.
Asa shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Lady Elsmere recounted, “You’re too young to remember this, Asa, but the most famous horse kidnapping was Shergar. He was on par with Secretariat with a stud fee was $105,000 dollars. He was standing at stud in Ireland when he disappeared in 1983.”
Asa whistled. “That was a lot of moola in the early 80s.”
Lady Elsmere continued, “Shergar and his groom, Jim Fitzgerald, were kidnapped at gunpoint. The kidnappers let Jim Fitzgerald go eventually, saying they were holding the horse for ransom.”
“What happened?” Asa asked.
“It was believed the Irish Republican Army stole the horse. They needed money for arms and weapons, but they made one mistake—they let Shergar’s handler go. Without Jim Fitzgerald, they couldn’t control the agitated stallion. In the last contact with the negotiators, the kidnappers said there had been an accident and the horse was dead. They never called back again. No one ever found the body of Shergar, and the kidnappers were never caught.”
Asa suggested, “Perhaps they lied and sold the horse.”
Lady Elsmere took a long drag on her cigarette before putting it out. “No, that wouldn’t have worked. Shergar was too well-known internationally. The horse died in an accident or was shot on purpose because the heat on the case was too hot. We’ll never know.”
“Do you think Last Chance is dead?”
“Asa, if Last Chance is not dead, he will be soon. Foals his age need their mothers. I doubt the kidnappers know the correct way to care for a colt without a dam. He must be found within the next several days,” Lady Elsmere explained.
Asa took a sip of her tea. “And you’ve received no phone calls or letters demanding ransom?”
Lady Elsmere shook her head.
I said, “I think that proves Last Chance was taken to punish June and not for monetary reward.”
Asa replied, “Maybe. Maybe not.”
I said, “Where do we go from here, Asa?”
Asa took a deep breath. “I was given a tip on where to look, but you must put up the money for my operatives and their legal fees and bail if they get caught. Do you agree, June?”
“Of course, Asa. Money is no object.”
“Now give me the name of your biggest enemy in the horse business. The one person who really hates your guts.”
Lady Elsmere answered without hesitation. “I don’t even have to think about it. Logan J. Kilkorn.”
“Has he been in contact?”
“No.”
“When was the last time you spoke with him or his associates?”
“It would have been when I testified before the Racing Commission on the issue of abandoning retired Thorougbreds or selling them to slaughter houses.”
I said, “Kentucky has a law banning the slaughtering of Thoroughbreds for meat.”
Lady Elsmere replied, “Owners ship their horses to states that don’t have the ban.”
Asa asked, “What happened when you testified, Miss June?”
“Logan was appointed to speak on behalf of the opposing side. He lost control though. Logan got tongue-tied when I rebutted some of his arguments and blurted out some very not-so-nice epitaphs at me, causing him to lose credibility before the Racing Commission. His reputation took a hit. I haven’t talked to him since.”
“That was over two years ago,” I said. “Since then Logan has been banned from racing when one of his stable hands got caught doping a competitor’s horse.”
Asa looked at her mother. “So, he likes to play rough with other people’s horses. Tell me one thing. Does he have a son?”
Lady Elsmere replied, “Yes, and I hear he is in the midst of a divorce, and it is a nasty one by all accounts.”
Asa looked at the two of us and announced, “I think I’ll pay a call on Logan J. Kilkorn.”
“I like the sound of that,” Lady Elsmere said, her eyes twinkling.
The three of us raised our tea cups and clinked them.
Logan J. Kilkorn didn’t know it yet, but a tornado was coming his way!