Twenty-One

‘They do have a file on D-King and they said they’d be glad to share it with us on one condition,’ Garcia said as Hunter walked back into the office.

‘And what condition is that?’

‘That we do the same. We tell them whatever we find out about him.’

‘Well, that sounds easy enough.’

‘That’s what I thought, so I told them they had a deal and we’ll be dropping by to collect the file this afternoon.’

‘That’s fine.’

Hunter felt his cell phone vibrate once again followed by its ringtone.

‘Hello, Detective Hunter speaking.’

‘Hello Robert.’ Hunter’s throat knotted and he immediately snapped his fingers twice at his partner to get his attention. Garcia knew exactly who was on the other end of the line.

‘I’m gonna give you a chance to make a difference today.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘I’m sure you are. Are you a gambling man, Robert?’

‘Not if I can avoid it.’ Hunter sounded calm.

‘Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone to help you. Maybe your new partner.’

Hunter frowned. ‘How do you know I have a . . .’

The metallic voice cut Hunter short. ‘In about four minutes there will be a greyhound race starting at the Jefferson County Kennel Club. I want you to pick me the winner.’

‘Greyhounds?’

‘That’s right, Robert. I’m putting someone’s life in your hands. You pick the wrong dog and he dies.’

Hunter exchanged a tense and confused look with Garcia.

‘I will call you back twenty seconds before the race starts to get your selection . . . be ready.’

‘Wait!’ but the line had already gone dead.

‘What did he say?’ Garcia demanded anxiously even before Hunter had a chance to close his phone.

‘Do you understand anything about greyhound racing?’ There was a desperate tone in Hunter’s voice.

‘What?’

‘Dog racing . . . do you know anything about it, do you bet?’ he shouted nervously.

‘No, never have.’

‘Shit!’ Hunter scratched his forehead in thought for a moment. ‘We’ve gotta go downstairs.’ Hunter raced to the door, not a second to spare. Garcia followed him. They made it down the six flights of stairs that took them to the main detective floor in record time. The floor was almost empty, only Detective Lucas and Detective Maurice were at their desks.

‘Do you guys know anything about greyhound racing?’ Hunter shouted as soon as he was through the door. The puzzled look on the detectives’ faces was uniform.

No response.

‘Dog racing, does anyone in here bet on it?’ The desperation in Hunter’s voice was alarming.

‘Dog racing is illegal in California,’ Detective Lucas said calmly.

‘I don’t give a damn, I just wanna know if any of you two know anything about it. Do any of you two bet?’

‘What the hell is going on in here, Hunter?’ Captain Bolter had come out of his office to check what the yelling was all about.

‘No time to explain it now, Captain. I need to know if anyone bets on the dogs in here.’ Hunter noticed a slight uneasiness about Detective Lucas. ‘Lucas c’mon, talk to me,’ Hunter pressed.

‘I bet every now and then,’ Lucas said shyly.

All eyes were now on him. Hunter checked his watch. ‘In two and a half minutes there’s a dog race starting at the Jefferson County Kennel Club. I need you to pick me the winner.’

The puzzled look that had graced the detectives’ faces turned into laughter. ‘Well, if it was that simple I wouldn’t be working here, would I?’ Lucas replied.

‘You’d better do your best or else someone is gonna get murdered.’ Hunter’s urgency sent a cold shiver around the room.

Captain Bolter immediately realized what Hunter’s impatience was all about. ‘How do you get the race card?’ he shot the question at Lucas.

‘Over the internet.’

‘Do it, now,’ the captain ordered, moving towards the detective’s desk.

Lucas turned to his PC and fired up his browser. He enjoyed gambling, mainly dog and horse racing and he had several racing links saved into his favorites. Hunter, Garcia and Captain Bolter were already by Lucas’s side. Detective Maurice was the last one to join them.

‘Let’s see, you said Jefferson County Kennel Club right?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s in Florida.’

‘Do I look like I give a shit where the hell it is? Just get the race card will you?’ Captain Bolter’s irritation was exploding.

‘OK, here we go.’ With a few more clicks he had the race card in front of him.

‘What does all that mean?’ Garcia had never seen a dog-racing card before.

‘Well, these are the dog-trap numbers, these here are the dog names and these are the betting odds,’ Lucas replied pointing to different sections of the card on his screen.

‘How about all these other numbers?’ Hunter this time.

‘Sectionals and number of wins, but that’s too complicated to explain now.’

‘Fine, how do you usually make your selection?’

‘I analyze the form but in this case I just don’t have the time.’

‘So what’s the second option?’

‘I don’t know, maybe go with the market.’

‘And that means what?’ Captain Bolter asked annoyed.

‘In short, wait for the odds on the dogs to start moving and bet on the favorite. The market is usually a very good indication of the probable outcome of the race.’

‘It wouldn’t be that easy,’ Hunter said, knowing the killer would never set him off on an easy task.

‘That’s the thing, it’s not easy at all, look at these odds.’ Lucas pointed to his computer screen. ‘We have co-favorites of four, traps 1, 2, 4 and 5 all with the exact same odds, three-to-one, and the other dogs aren’t that far behind. This is a very hard race to predict. If I had the choice I would never place a bet on a race like this.’

‘You don’t have the choice,’ Garcia said.

‘Your guess is as good as mine then.’

‘You’re supposed to be the gambler here.’ The conversation was starting to turn into yelling. By now everyone realized the gravity of the situation and nerves were starting to get the better of everyone.

‘OK, everyone calm the fuck down,’ Hunter ordered. ‘Lucas, just do your best.’

He turned his attention back to his computer screen. ‘At first glance, the sectionals of the dog in trap five look better, but by no means is that a confident guess.’

‘I like the name of the dog in trap seven,’ Detective Maurice offered.

Captain Bolter’s look was enough to shut him up.

‘What do we do?’ Garcia asked nervously.

‘Maybe we should go with the five dog then,’ Hunter said, quickly analyzing the numbers on the race card.

‘The sectionals from the dog in trap two look pretty good too.’

‘I don’t understand what you are talking about . . . sectionals? Just pick a goddamn dog,’ Captain Bolter demanded.

‘Captain, this is gambling, if it were that easy we’d all be making a living out of it.’

‘We are running out of time here,’ Hunter snapped.

‘Just pick the one you think has got the best chance of winning.’ Garcia this time.

Hunter’s cell phone rang, making everyone in the room jump. He looked at the caller display – withheld. ‘It’s him.’

‘Him who?’ Lucas asked curiously.

Garcia placed his index finger over his lips telling everyone to keep quiet.

‘Detective Hunter speaking.’

‘What’s your selection?’

Hunter locked eyes with Lucas’s, raising his eyebrows as if asking ‘Which one?’

Lucas thought about it for a quick second and then raised his right hand, all five fingers spread apart. Hunter could see no conviction in his eyes.

‘Three seconds, Robert.’

‘Five, the dog in trap five.’ The line went dead.

Silence took over the room. Hunter knew nothing about greyhound racing and he was sure the killer was aware of that.

‘The result, how do we know which dog won? Can we watch the race?’ Garcia’s voice broke the silence.

‘It depends if the track has its own website and if they do live broadcasting.’

‘Can we find out?’

Lucas turned to his computer to search for the Jefferson County Kennel Club website. He found it within seconds and just a moment later he had it up on his screen. He checked the links on the home page and clicked on the Program & Results one. ‘Shit.’

‘What?’ Captain Bolter asked.

‘We can’t watch it. They don’t have live broadcasting. But they will display the result about a minute after the race has ended.’

‘How long does the race take?’

‘Only about thirty or forty seconds.’

‘So that’s it? We just wait here like idiots?’

‘There’s nothing else we can do,’ Hunter said, taking a deep breath.