Murder at the Arlington: Chapter 17

I’d called the racetrack before we left the hotel. Since racing season didn’t begin until February, I had to make an appointment for a tour. A man named Leroy Peevey was to meet us in the lobby.

We pulled up into a massive parking lot, which must have covered four acres. A few cars were parked near the entrance, otherwise the lot was empty.

“Park by the front door,” I told Ruth. “The track is closed so we shouldn’t have any problem parking here. Mr. Peevey’s waiting for us inside.”

As I followed Ruth to the entrance, I glanced around for Muldoon and his car, but didn’t see him. We stepped inside. A light shone in the lobby, but the rest of the building was dark, giving the place a cavernous feeling.

“Hey, look at this,” Ruth said.

On the wall right in front was a giant framed photo of a horse and jockey. We were studying the picture when suddenly the place was flooded in light. A middle-aged man, wearing a brown suit walked up behind us.

“Gushing Oil, the horse that is. Little guy on top is named Popara — winner and jockey of last year’s Arkansas Derby. Spectacular race. Won by seven lengths. A few lucky folks made a bundle on that race.”