behind a beautiful day, with
a cool breeze under a cloudless sky.
Callahan said, “That was probably Greek to you.”
“I followed it pretty well. I just don?t understand the drift of it
As we walked around the corner of the cafeteria, I got my first good look at the track and whistled
between my teeth.
“Impressive, huh?” Callahan said.
Impressive was an understatement.
It sprawled out in the morning sun, a white structure framed against a forest of trees. It was three tiers
high with cupolas on each end and a glass clubhouse that stretched from one end of the top floor to
the other. The designer had modelled the building after Saratoga and other venerable tracks. It looked
like it had been there for fifty years. There were azalea gardens to give it colour and giant oak trees
standing sentinel at its corners. Great care had obviously been taken to remove only those trees
necessary. The parking lot even had freestanding oaks and pines breaking up the blacktop. It was a
stunning sight arid, I had to admit, a tribute to Harry Raines? taste. The clubhouse windows sparkled
in the morning sun, and in the infield the grass was the colour of emeralds.
“Wow!” I said.
“Some nice operation,” Callahan agreed.
The Mercedes was gone.
I decided to get back to the subject at hand.
“Why are you so interested in Disaway?” I asked.
“He was two horse in the third race Sunday.”
“Is that good luck or something?”
“Remember the tape Sunday night?”
“How could anybody forget it?”
“You forgot something,” Callahan said. “Tagliani told Stinetto it was a fix for the four horse in the
third heat.”
“I still don?t get the point.”
“The four horse was Midnight Star. He went off as place favourite, eight to one, won, paid a bundle.
The favourite was Disaway. Wasn?t set up for Midnight Star to win, was set up for Disaway to lose.
No sense any other way. Sunday, everything was A-one for him, up against a weak field, track was
soft, he went off a five-to-two favourite. Strolled in eighth.”
“Eighth!”
