CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
The JJ Liston Stakes, Caulfield racecourse, Victoria. One thousand and fifty kilometres, from Shangri La, Pokolbin, New South Wales. Fourteen hours travel time alone and the logistics for the trip had been carefully considered. Winston had discussed the preparation with Graham Harper on several occasions and now had a final plan. The tandem drive float carried eight hundred litres of diesel fuel enough to go make Melbourne and back. Creighton designed the truck in Melbourne to make Sydney and return or to reach Darwin or Perth the furthermost cities from the east coast with only one stop. Although the truck had been expensive it was very good value for money. Top class workmanship throughout with innovative design acquired by evaluation of previous vehicles in a feedback process from customers. Neville Creighton was at times tainted by greed and ego but he was a very good businessman.
The cab carried six with walk through access to the rear living quarters and horse cubicles at the rear of the vehicle. Air conditioning and ventilation were that efficient the horse cubicles could not be smelt in the living quarters complete with kitchen, shower, toilet, laundry and six bunks. The truck only carried four horses and six people hardly any weight at all so the vehicle could be laden with comforts and means of self sufficiency. A diesel generator for two hundred and forty volt power capable of running the entire truck drew diesel from the main tanks but was only required if the truck engine was not running. Back up lithium ion batteries with solar and wind generation backup should the generator fail. Fully loaded with fuel food and water the vehicle could remain self sufficient for two weeks.
Horses can sleep standing up and often sleep during transportation; the holding pens were adjustable by the use of hydraulic separating walls. Once the horse was loaded from the rear loading ramp head first the walls either side could be easily adjusted to suit the size of the horse, with a snug fit the padded partitions protected the horse from sudden movement or in the event of an accident. Doors at the front of the cubicles allowed access to the horse for feed, water could be sucked from a tube rather like a giant baby's teat adjustable to mouth height that once the horse was used to worked well with pressure fed. The striking feature of the cubicles was what the horse stood on. A Kevlar grid with holes big enough to allow waste product to fall to a holding pen below the cubicles, the holes were larger at the rear to allow droppings to pass through. Liquid waste drained right through to a lower tank via a fine screen, this could be pumped out at waste disposal stations the same as the shower, toilet and laundry waste. Solid waste could be pushed to the rear of the truck by a hydraulic ram below the Kevlar grid, the rear loading ramp had to be raised to achieve this leaving solid waste on the ground to be easily cleaned up by hand. Creighton got the idea by studying a domestic garbage truck hydraulic ram system and scaling it down being the width of the truck and half a metre in height. Pressure fed water hoses either side of the cubicles made hygiene most efficient. Powerful overhead thermostat controlled ventilation above the horse's heads pumped fresh air in and pushed it out one way vents at floor level either side of the truck. This conditioned air had another ingenious stroke of technology. Artificial fragrance could be injected into the airstream by additional software within the air conditioning system. Fragrances such as fresh cut grass, blooming loosen and fields of flowers assisted in calming a horse. A sound system delivered calming music and by trial and error a combination of the fragrance and music was at times beneficial. Flushing Meadow loved Brahms Third in D minor played by the London's Philharmonic Orchestra but Flaxmead insisted on AC/DCs Hells Bells.
The horse cubicles had closed circuit visual monitoring in the cab and living quarters. In an emergency the truck could be pulled up and horses unloaded in two minutes. Without this, the logistical approach planed would have been a nightmare.
Winston had via several letters to and from Caulfield racing management, made sure his plan was known and was without objection. He didn't want to have Flaxmead held up or unable to race due to habeas corpus or some other such civil law known only to a select few for use when things weren't going their way. The float parking area at Caulfield was perfectly placed at the north western corner of the grounds edging Kambrook and Station streets. Access to the parade and mounting areas were adjacent, a perfect arrangement to test a rehearsed preparation and appearance at an interstate track for the first time.
Hidden Valley on the Hume Freeway near the town of Wallan in Victoria is around eighty kilometres from Caulfield racecourse. A state of the art truck parking area, well lit and under the constant eye of the public with bordering grassy walk areas of some acreage is situated on either side of the freeway. A perfect place for an overnight stop to catch a few hours sleep. The horses could be walked, even run. The horse cubicles could be cleaned out and within easy distance for a first light run to Caulfield. Rule one was only Wilson, Graham, Bob, Jessica and Lorraine knew the planed travel times and they were to tell no one. The children would not make this meet as it would cause absenteeism from school.
Lorraine Wills was picked up in Sydney Friday morning and the float pulled up at Hidden Valley late afternoon. Little Lindy Cumberland was out of the running with her injury and would be for some time convalescing at home in Scone. Early the following morning whilst walking the horses on the park grasslands an intermittent stream of coaches sounded their horns as they past of the way to Caulfield from the hunter valley. The word was out and coaches started to pull up at the parking area causing a few people problems, the horses were hastily loaded up and a convoy headed by the float made its way to Caulfield. Some twenty coaches long by the time it reached Caulfield the coaches parted company taking their patrons to the grandstand complex and the float was given its parking spot as arranged by Winston through the gate access from Station Street.
Flushing Meadow run first in a group two event over twelve hundred, Lorraine found herself boxed in from gate twelve and with a late wide run managed second by a nose.
Of the fourteen runners in the JJ Liston Stakes Flaxmead drew gate two and Celtic Storm gate fourteen. Flaxmead again carried top weight and he had never been run straight out of a twenty four hour float ride. Lorraine commented it had not worried Flushing Meadow in fact she had done really well, dropping back to last and going wide in the final six hundred she just missed out on running the entire field down.
Flaxmead fronted for the JJ Liston Stakes and all eyes were on the black champion. It looked like the entire population of Melbourne dressed in ridiculous hats, loud dresses and suits on loan from the Melbourne symphony orchestra had turned out to see the stallion run in their neck of the woods for the first time. Flaxmead was in the limelight all the time from the moment he left the float to three hundred metres from the back of the starting gates just out of earshot alongside the permanent stable complex. Whilst he was occupied with the crowd's attention he paid no mind to Celtic Storm and Lorraine did her best to keep him away from here when they bunched behind the gates. Hildebrand had walked to the back of the gates to watch what happened when the horses came together. Flaxmead began to court Celtic Storm but she was loaded into her gate and Flaxmead began intimidating the last horses left and the stewards with the cry of the banshee before flashing into gate number two and going straight under the starter.
The gates opened the thunderbolt flashed out heading directly for the inside rail of the first corner some two hundred metres away before they picked up the inside rail from the starting gate run off. Flaxmead never saw or smelt Celtic Storm he thundered off into the distance happy to have a run after being couped up for twenty four hours. By the start of the back straight he began to drop of the packs radar and the Melbourne element of the crowd began to become vocal as they witnessed the power of the hunter valley thunderbolt. After rounding turn two within an inch of the rail in full flight he heard the massive crowd and turned on the final kick and slowly weaved his way across the field to the outside rail. He crossed the line fifteen lengths ahead of Celtic Storm in turn five lengths
ahead of the rest of the pack. Another record shattered, the race caller made the comment Flaxmead's only problem was how he would match or topple these records next year. Kicking his head in the air and whaling he began to throw a wobbly and Lorraine fought to hold him, the crowd loved it but Lorraine was puzzled. She then realised Anna and Dylan were not on the finish line, they were home watching him on telly with Lindy Cumberland. Was this the thing that had upset him? He then caught a whiff of Celtic Storm and began parading around her like a sick puppy. The crowd thought it was fantastic but Ross Hildebrand read other things of events.
"We need barrier draw and time before the start away from the crowds. He's the damdest thing I've ever seen. I'm not sure I want to see him beaten," muttered Hildebrand.
Reporter Lee Hayford stopped Hildebrand as he walked from the railing, she had been tailing him on purpose. "Do you think Flaxmead and Celtic Storm are the two main runners for the Melbourne Cup?" she asked.
"Ah how are you lassie? You've been behaving yourself so I'll talk to you. Maybe, this is only fourteen hundred metres and a lot of good horses didn't make the draw. Ask me after the Caulfield Cup or Cox Plate."
"Do you think Flaxmead is capable of going to the cup unbeaten?"
"Is he capable of it, yes. Can he do it, we'll have to see. A bad barrier draw, a distraction, illness, a bad day. Who knows you just hope its not that day, that's racing."
"What about Celtic Storm?"
"There's twenty horses capable of wining the Melbourne Cup, they'll all be at Flemington in November. Celtic Storm will be one of them. Now if you excuse me lassie I have to be going," Ross trotted off with a smile.
The assassin paced around the member's lounge running his hands over his head and swearing to himself.
"Calm down Theo, those horses can run fast, cant do much about it," said Creighton sitting at the table Delores had just got up from.
The assassin pointed towards the winner's compound below the window. "They just made my horses look like donkeys, I want those pair stopped." He paced a few more times then sat down next to Creighton. "You sold them that float, at no time during their trip here could I find out where they were. Bloody things like fort Knox, planning on backing the opposition with any more tricks."
"Come on Theo I didn't know what he was going to do with it. Anyway was a good move, I got two more people who want them now."
"What, they could affect our control over the industry."
"Already has," chuckled Creighton, he had a few drinks and was having a good time. "I've designed one with a fifty cal cannon in a gun turret, for Australian conditions. ha ha ha."
The assassin didn't see the mirth in the joke and swallowed another bourbon on the rocks." He looked sinisterly at Creighton. "I'm gonna stop that pair with or without you."
"Mate that black thing has the Jorrocks gene or something, Id like to know its early bloodline."
Jack Prendergast watched them from a table further down the club along the window and began to chuckle out loud. "I don't know what you're laughing at Jack we just got annihilated by that black thing from the hunter valley," said Geoff Leroy with a long face.
Leroy had his back to the action and couldn't see what Jack was laughing at. "I wouldn't miss this year's Melbourne Cup for all the horses in China, even if I don't have a runner in it."
Leroy looked around to see what Jack was amused by. He turned back. "Oh, he's not happy. There's been a string of floats running horses out of my places to trainers in the hunter valley. You don't think Creighton and the assassin have the same problem. I got people breaking contract and sending horses up there, just because they're in the same place as Graham Harper. Harper has seven horses under his name Jack and this if the first time two of them have come down here. One thing to get beaten. Another to be totally embarrassed."
Jack got up, "I'd be embarrassed if I'd come third to anything else. Excuse me I'm off." Jack began to walk towards the exit.
"Your getting soft Jack!" shouted Leroy, Jack kept walking. Some people looked sideways at him from adjoining tables. He looked back down into his glass. "Jesus," he muttered.
Jessica and Lorraine loaded Flaxmead and Meadow. Now came the hard part the run home. Bob and Graham were going to share the driving and one of the girls would stay awake to monitor the horses. They had a quick meeting while the girls were busy. Hildebrand walked by, he said nothing but tipped his hat with a smile to the group.
"This was too easy, if Celtic Storm had drawn an inside barrier I think things would have been different. Celtic Storm had no time to really get under Flaxy's skin either. Hildebrand would be taking all this in," said Graham.
"Lorraine did a good job of trying to keep him clear too," added Bob.
"Lorraine reckons he didn't like the kids not being at the post," said Winston.
"There was a few people missing Wilson and Bartholomew as well, makes a difference. He lets them handle him now," added Bob.
"This can be turned into strength, we can guarantee they'll all be there if he makes the cup. If we keep running him without the kids, there their sudden appearance at the cup could be something positive," replied Graham.
"Now that's an idea Anna and Dylan could live with," said their father. "They were shattered they couldn't come to this. Lindy's not handling it to well either."
"Another problem, we don't have a second rider. We loose Lorraine and were scratching," suggested Winston.
"The truck parking bay didn't really work this morning either, we were after the public eye but that was a bit much," commented Bob.
"The Memsie Stakes here in a couple of weeks. We got in but Celtic Storm's going a different way. Then were in for the Turnbull at Flemington see what happens," said Graham.
"I'll have to look at this pull up area for next fortnight, we'll get it right," added Winston.
The girls finished and raised the tailgate. "Come on lets roll em, we can talk on the way," said Graham.
The now combined Greedy Piggy Creek and Fixed Hole mobs outings had a great weekend, arrangements were made to link other mines to the syndicate to further bargaining power on meals and accommodation. Sampling the push of home grown wines interstate was a hit among them, although they came from the valley they seldom ventured into wineries. Cases of hunter wine were loaded onto coaches and taken back to the valley. A few squabbles surfaced but they were about lost bets on horses rumoured to be a sure thing. With Kerry Snow absent working the weekend a couple of self proclaimed gurus had surfaced in the ranks with disastrous results. Betting odds on Flaxmead had become futile paying a dollar and five cents for his run in the JJ Liston. Rutland had a better idea accompanied by a GPC and FH management clan. He hung a form guide on the dart board and threw darts at it, he struck two fifty to one outsiders for support races and his pockets were bulging. The mine clans noticed him picking up his winnings and claimed inside information leaks refusing to believe his dart throwing form choice. Kerry Snow studied his form guide, if Flaxmead won the Memsie Stakes he had a bet with himself that Harper would run him in the Turnbull and Yalumba Stakes.
Late in the day the assassin had a win but not in a race. He had been in negotiations to buy the Japanese champion stayer Sanda Warrior a chestnut stallion. The horse based in Takarazuka province at the Hanshin race complex was an undefeated winning two group one starts in Australia last year as a four year old. The horse's owner had sent the horse to Australia unexpectedly looking for a buyer, the horse landed in Delores hands with some careful manipulation of contacts. He then kept the pending sale quiet buying the horse himself. The owner under house arrest in Osaka Japan for trading insolvent and corporate corruption made a deal with the assassin. Delores arranged indirect payment of a large undisclosed sum to Swiss banks at exactly the same time the bankrupt owner disappeared overseas from house arrest in Osaka Japan. Hardly legal in Japan or Australia the deal would take years to uncover if ever, the assassin became the owner of a horse that had once beaten Celtic Storm as a
three year old.