CHAPTER TWELVE
Stanton spent half an hour on his internet channels of access profiling Blake and Flametower. He couldn't understand why Blake comfortably off to say the least with no equine background at all be so focused on a racehorse so far from home. He found only one horse Flaxmead recently registered in England connected to Blake, why he would be so far from home with Flaxmead interested him.
Gail Flametower was on the other hand born on a horse. Divorced, bankrupt and tainted by family disaster a victim of circumstances. Now free from the constraints of bankruptcy she held her ground recently attacking the establishment for her place back in the horse stud and racing industry and it appeared she was making headway. Stanton had great respect for those who held the governing powers of any entity to account. She had only direct family member her daughter and she was missing. He shut down his channels of mediation convinced he was dealing with real people with real problems difficult to deal with through official channels.
He left with thirty minutes to spare to ask a few questions of locals on the way. He headed for the garage and informed Jodi making an implausible mess in the kitchen preparing a late dinner. "I'm off love shouldn't be to long."
Jodi stopped what she was doing wiping flour from her hands with her apron. "Don't come back here with any body parts or smelling of cordite and gunpowder or you can sleep by yourself."
"Yes love." he kissed her on the check.
"I suppose you have to fuel up that red thing you drive."
"Yes love."
"Pass anything on the road except a fuel bowser that damn car."
"Yes love."
"You'll have to get rid of it one day will send us broke when they introduce a carbon tax. Has its own personal hole in the ozone layer."
"Yes love."
She pulled him close nose to nose and whispered. "Do you love that red thing more than me?"
"No love."
"Go and find the nice ladies daughter and don't hurt yourself or anybody else if you can possibly avoid it. If you can't make it back for dinner ring me, Anthony and Robert and Lola will be here at seven. You know I have trouble controlling the grandchildren Lola puts it all on your shoulders they have you in them apparently."
"Yes love."
"Oh I accidentally let it slip you named Lola after a racing car and she would like to have a word with you in private."
"Marvellous can't wait. I have to go, out of time." Stanton fired up his supercharged muscle bound symbol of freedom and as the automatic door of his eight car garage opened and he left in a cloud of smoke the prancing horse on the grill came to mind. It was the first time he had used the vehicle to search for the shadow of its emblem and it felt kind of fitting. He would feel better when the horse was safe and had a sudden affiliation to the task, what if he lost his beloved horse.
There are two service stations in Freemans Waterhole and Stanton visited both. The access to the Flametower property is of a dirt road just west of the service stations located either side of a roundabout in the tiny settlement. The west bound side yielded nothing but a visit to the east bound side found a young lad working on the morning of the disappearance. He was unwilling to say anything but as he asked questions about Stanton's car he became more open, they chatted about the history of the four wheeled horse. Stanton linked this to a question about horse floats on the morning of the disappearance and got a result. The lad had been out dipping the tanks as he did every shift at four in the morning and parked back from the road in a parking bay on the opposite side to the service station he remembered a horse float. He looked at it for a while as it was so well presented. Black with gold writing, big chrome wheels and highly polished exhaust mufflers running up the side of the cab, he remembered it was a cab over Kenworth. He could not recall the words on the truck but remembered it suddenly moving off in the darkness heading west. The service station was not in view of the dirt turnoff to the Flametower property. Stanton thanked the lad and walked across the road leaving the lad to gloat over his car. Back from the road in the grey dust were distinct truck tyre tracks amongst the light wattle trees. They were the only tyre tracks there an area that would not be used unless you didn't want to be seen from the roadway. Stanton noted the tread pattern easy to see from deep tread.
Stanton retrieved his car carefully watching the time, he trundled down the dirt turn off leading towards the Flametower property and found the gate closed to the access track. While opening the gate he noticed identical tyre marks inside the gate, the truck had turned round and dropped it tailgate and Stanton noted two different sets of footprints around the truck and one set that went to and from the area from the direction of the homestead. He could see the homestead in the distance but was out of earshot. He had two minutes to go for the promised hour closed the gate and powered down the drive kicking up a chocking cloud of dust.
Blake saw the red car coming and looked at his watch, he was impressed. Blake showed Stanton round the stable where Flaxmead had been housed and Stanton matched the footprints to a set around the truck tyre marks at the end of the driveway. He asked to see Gail.
Gail had a look of pain and anguish in her face she was deteriorating. Stanton wasted no time.
"Do you know anyone who owns a black float with gold writing and chrome wheels?" he asked.
She put her hands either side of her face and shook her head. "Oh my god, Roy Taggart. Jessica is close friends with his manager Jimmy Cotton he taught her to ride."
"How far away is he?"
"Wyong."
"Can you remember if the truck is a Mack?"
"No it's a Kenworth."
"Where do the exhausts come out?"
"Either side of the cab, it has a distinct sound; I think they call it a Detroit diesel."
"You seem distressed at this bloke's name, Roy Taggart."
"He's the only man in the industry I wouldn't trust. He launders money in the racing industry for the clubs in Sydney."
"Really go on."
"He doesn't have the horse industry at heart; it's just a tool for his goings on. Jimmy Cotton was the one in here the other day he saw Flaxmead run but he had horses here from a genuine trainer one of the best. Taggart has something on Jimmy and no one knows what."
"Why didn't you mention this earlier to Winston?"
Gail became frantic shaking and bursting into tears. "I wouldn't take anyone near him, what if he has Jessica please Mr Stanton."
Stanton looked down with a deep breath then up at Gail being consoled by Blake. "Give me his address please Gail." She went to her office and fumbled around in her business card holder.
"Here Mr Stanton please be careful he has security and nasty people there."
Stanton studied the card and looked at Blake. "This wouldn't be thirty minutes away, stay here and look after Gail. If I was on a poker machine in a casino I'm one cherry away from the jackpot, I'll be back."
Twenty nine minutes to be exact. Automatic electric gates and a security post inside the gates of the sprawling property Riverside Stud, he wondered about the name as there wasn't a river in sight. Stanton nudged the nose of his car towards the gates and they opened. He stopped adjacent to the brick building no larger than a lounge room, a massive dark skinned muscle bound man emerged. He wore civilian clothes looked like he had trouble getting sizes to suit his towering frame. He looked like they had been painted on and he bulged out stretching the stitching to its upper tolerance. He spoke in a Middle Eastern accent in a voice that low you had to be a bison to understand the details.
"You have an appointment."
"No, looking to buy a horse. Hear you have a few blinders here round the hundred thousand mark."
The hulk looked up and down his car. "Nice car."
"I'll give you a spin on the way out if you like."
The Hulk smiled. "Good one, go into the office and ask for Jimmy Cotton."
"No worries, I'll be back."
The office complex had an extensive parking area and Stan
ton parked in the middle giving him several paths of exit should he need them. He approached a plump blonde lady behind the reception desk, the foyer was littered with trophies and pictures of race horse's people came and went going about their business. She finished talking on the phone before tending to him. Stanton asked for Jimmy Cotton and the receptionist made a phone call. Stanton heard a familiar noise passing a Detroit diesel, a black Kenworth with gold lettering and chrome wheels rumbled towards the stables visible from the office complex windows. "I'm sorry sir but Mr Cotton is to busy to see anyone."
"Oh never mind, do you have a toilet I could use before I go I'm busting."
"Oh yes, down the hall past the offices to the right at the end."
"Thanks." Stanton scanned the doors of the grandiose establishment until he found the name Jimmy Cotton general manager. He knocked with no response so he pounded with his fist. A stocky middle aged tanned westerner opened the door began to yell at Stanton but froze when he saw who was at the door holding his hands out in front of him and walking backwards. Stanton walked in and closed the door behind him, a little grey haired thin short man in shirt and tie his face looking like a road map of Sydney crouched over a desk looking puzzled at Stanton. The man at the door kept his hands where Stanton could see them up against the wall and Stanton asked him to work his way round behind the desk behind the small elderly figure. A young girl sat at the end of the desk with a look of fear.
"Who the hell are you?" asked the small ancient figure.
"John Stanton," he looked at the girl. "You Jessica Flametower?" The girl nodded. He looked back to the old man. "You Jimmy Cotton?"
"Yes I am, what the hell do you want."
Stanton looked at Jessica, "You took a horse from your mother's property and came here with this bunch of crooks. Don't you think your mother has been through enough?"
Cotton turned around to the man standing behind him. "Chuck this bloke out ruff him up let him know who's boss around here." The man remained frozen.
"Me and your mate have already meet," commented Stanton. "Lenny Shaw you were a poor soldier now get out of here before I break your neck." The man walked briskly to the door and slammed it behind him. Stanton walked up to Jessica now crying. "Pull yourself together, there's a red Ford Mustang in the car park go and get in the passenger seat and wait you're going home." Jessica got up and solemnly walked out the door. Stanton backed up to the wall mid way between Cotton and the door. "A horse called Flaxmead, where is it."
"The horse belongs to Jessica she can keep it hear if she wants."
"The horse belongs to Winston Blake a bloke from England and he wants it back."
Cotton hesitated, "How do you know all this and what's it to ya. By this time tomorrow you'll be floating in the bay do you know who owns this place."
"Roy Taggart, mobster gangster whatever."
"You've crossed the line mate, checkmate."
"Exactly what I thought. This place is loaded with surveillance cameras and Taggart can hear what's going on in here since it was brought to his attention by Shaw who left a couple of minutes ago. Mr Taggart would have rung a few people and been told he has a problem. He can't call the police or any of his mates to help."
"I think you underestimate Roy Taggart."
Stanton sat down and made himself comfortable on a lounge next to the wall he was standing against. "The phone will ring shortly." Stanton waited in silence and Cotton stood up to leave. "Sit down I've had enough!" shouted Stanton. They waited in silence for a few minutes and Cottons phone rang. He picked it up and listened for a while then put the phone down slowly without saying a word.
"Mr Taggart has left the property along with Mr Shaw and a few other members of staff, seems I'm left to pick up the pieces. Who the hell are you Taggart's petrified of you he wants no trouble."
"I don't know Taggart, where's the horse Jessica brought here?
"Hidden away, bloody things a hand grenade nearly killed a couple of blokes here. Jessica and children seem to be the only people who can lay a hand on him. I suppose you know it can run like the wind. Taggart wanted the horse soon as he heard about it; I'm just a messenger boy. Jessica rang me and it fell in our lap."
"These places usually smell of horses but this one has a distinct whiff of rats. I don't like blokes who bushwhack little girls and horses especially mobsters and crooks like Taggart. I'll be back tomorrow for the horse his names Flaxmead so make sure it's the right horse. If he's not here I'll look for Taggart myself."
"I'll let Mr Taggart know." Stanton left the receptionist was gone and the place was deserted. Jessica was crying in the passenger's seat of Stanton's car. He would have liked to console her but he gave her a grilling about the seriousness of what she had done. Becoming involved with shysters and mobsters even if she was unaware was insignificant compared to what she had done to her mother.
"You're a terrible nasty man," sobbed Jessica as they powered towards her home on the freeway.
Stanton smiled at her and clasped her hand holding it tight then releasing it. "Terrible nasty men with no morals need terrible nasty men to deal with them. Mr Taggart has plenty of money and he still wanted someone else's property and in this case family. The men ran away and left the poor old Jimmy Cotton to carry the can. Does that sound like people you would like to be involved with. What would have happened to your mother and Mr Blake had they gone and tried to get you. You stole Mr Blake's horse and they still tried to protect you from the police finding out about what you had done. You have a think about it, I'll get Mr Blake's horse back tomorrow or I will find Mr Taggart and he can answer to what he's done. You can go home now and answer to your mother who will probably hold you tighter than she ever has."
"I love Flaxmead, Mr Blake was going to take him away."
"Why didn't you talk to Mr Blake, why did he leave the horse with you since it got here from England. A position of trust and honour cast aside with one selfish act. Your mother spoilt you and it shows. Here I am after fifty years of dodging bullets babysitting a spoilt little girl."
Jessica had not raised her head sobbing in her lap. "I'm sorry sir."
"My names John"
"John who."
"Uncle John will be okay."
Jessica slowly raised her head and looked around. "You're a very brave man Uncle John."
"No what you witnessed was a lot of very scared men running from themselves. There's no honour in beating thieves, there's a difference between the evil and the misguided. Mr Taggart hides behind people and uses them as a soldier would use a rock to protect himself in battle. My guess is Mr Taggart has no wife, if I carried on like Mr Taggart my wife would kick my butt all round the garden and so would my children."
Jessica strained her first giggle. "Really."
"She sent me to find you. She doesn't let me out much."
Jessica started to pick up. "Wow, why."
"She doesn't like this car either."
"This car is really cool has a horse on the front looks just like Flaxmead when he's running."
"Must be some horse this Flaxmead I can't wait to see him."
"He's gonna win the Melbourne Cup."
"Is that good?"
"Don't you know about the Melbourne Cup."
"Well yeah but what's it like the Australian formula one grand prix, the V8 super cars at Bathurst the Australian motorcycle GP?"
"They only stop a few people the Melbourne Cup stop's the nation."
Stanton had a look of deep thought. "Yeah, the Melbourne Cups the only horse race I ever hear, I stop what I'm doing and listen to that race and I do every year. I never looked at it like that you're right. You learn something from everyone you meet sunshine." They turned into the Flametower property and there was much jubilation.
Stanton made home before his family arrived for dinner and Jodi meet him at the garage access door leading into the house, she was anxious. Stanton could smell the aroma of the roast dinner and was sure there was a hint of app
le pie. "Did you find the girl?"
"Yes love."
"Oh John that's wonderful where was she." they began to walk down the hall to the kitchen Stanton following Jodi.
"Some sort of lets get all the money we can types with caged gorillas as doorman took advantage of her."
Jodi stoped and turned around. "Show me your hands knuckles up." Jodi inspected Stanton's knuckles her long blonde hair tinted with grey getting in the way, then held out the palm of her right hand. "Gun." Stanton pulled his automatic pistol from belt holster in the middle of his back in a flash and gently placed it in her hand. She sniffed the barrel then slapping it back in Stanton's hand. "Oh we have been a good boy haven't we you got the horse for Mr Blake."
"I'll get him tomorrow he's there."
"Well who would have believed it John Stanton baby sitter and horse strapper?"
"Yes love."