'Nope,' Becker said. 'No evidence for anything.'
'Sort of up the Swanee without a paddle,' I said.
'Till you showed up. Nothing makes us dumb southern boys happier than having a smart Yankee show up to help us.'
'You going to break out in a rebel yell soon?' I said.
'Well,' Becker said, 'I do get playful sometimes.'
'I thought you were supposed to be ticked off about slavery and stuff.'
'Never been a slave. Don't know anybody who owned one.'
'Any pattern to the wounds?' I said.
'Veterinary report's in the case file,' Becker said. 'To me they look random.'
'So why would somebody go around randomly shooting horses?'
'Don't know.'
'The shots were random,' I said, 'but the horses weren't. They all belonged to Three Fillies.'
'Yep.'
'Try not to run on so,' I said. 'You're making me dizzy.'
Becker smiled.
'If you wanted a dead horse, wouldn't you shoot more than once? Especially if the horse didn't go down?'
'If I had time,' Becker said. 'If I wanted a dead horse. Might use a bigger weapon too.'
'Did he have time?'
'Far as we know.'
'And there are probably bigger weapons available.'
'Yep.'
'So maybe a dead horse wasn't the point,' I said.
'Maybe.'
'Maybe shooting the horse was the point.'
'Maybe.'
'If he wanted to prevent them from racing for some reason, why shoot the pony?'
'Good question,' Becker said.
'So why'd he shoot them?'
'Maybe he's a fruitcake,' Becker said.
'Maybe,' I said. 'You familiar with Security South?'
'Sure,' Becker said. 'Bunch of ex-FBI guys. Do a lot of horse-racing security.'
'Know a guy named Delroy?'
'Jon Delroy,' Becker said.
'Brisk, stern, upright, and ready,' I said.
'You bet,' Becker said. 'Awful dumb, though.'
SEVEN
I WAS IN the Three Fillies stable yard looking at Hugger Mugger. Security South had a guy with a gleaming pistol belt posted in front of the stall and another one in the stable office making sure of the coffee. Hugger Mugger hung his head out of the stall and looked hopefully at Penny in case she might have a carrot. He had very large brown eyes and looked deeply intelligent.
'They're not terribly smart,' Penny said. 'They seem to have a lot of certain kinds of awareness people don't have. They are very skittish and can be spooked by dogs, or birds, or sudden noise.'
Hugger Mugger nosed her upper arm, his ears back slightly and his profound brown eyes gazing at her. Along the stable row other horses looked out over the open doors of their stalls, turning their heads to peer down at us. The horses were restrained only by a belt across the open door. It was not unlike the velvet rope that closes off a dining room.
'Does he know you?' I said.
'He knows I sometimes carry carrots,' Penny said. 'Mostly they like other horses.'
'They ever get to gallop around in the field with all the other horses?'
'God no,' Penny said. 'You pay two million dollars for a horse that might be the next Citation, you can't let him hang around with other horses, one of which might kick his ribs in.'
I patted Hugger Mugger's forehead. He turned the carrot-questioning look on me.
