The Four Corners of the Sky_ A Novel - Michael Malone [133]
“Raffy?…You’ve been a good friend to my dad.”
But the Cuban was asleep, softly snoring.
Chapter 38
Boom Town
Very early in the morning, at the oval track of the legendary Hialeah Racetrack, Annie and Raffy watched pink long-necked flamingos twist and strut at the pond’s edge. The birds were the same lurid color as the flamingos on Raffy’s shirt.
There were no races at Hialeah in the heat of July. The birds were the only crowd at this time of year, hundreds of them flying low over the infield, turning the sky a gaudier rose. Raffy explained that he preferred Hialeah in the off-season, without the thundering of remorseless horses galloping away with his money, as had happened all too often in his old drinking days when gambling had also been a personal problem. He no longer believed in chance, only in destiny.
Annie was feeling a little guilty. She had secretly left a message on Daniel Hart’s office phone, informing him that she had the so-called La Reina Coronada del Mar in her possession and that she was heading to Hialeah Racetrack with Rafael Rook, who was claiming he’d hidden artifacts there belonging to the relic. That at 9 a.m., the two of them would be meeting her father and his alleged doctor at Golden Days. Last offer: She would trade Daniel Hart the Queen for the promise of a deal to get Jack’s immunity from prosecution.
As usual, the Miami detective hadn’t answered his phone, nor had he called back, nor had he, so far, shown up here at the track. She kept glancing at the entrance at the clubhouse chateau, hoping he would.
Raffy had brought her to Hialeah to retrieve “the Queen’s heart,” which he had buried here, although he seemed to be having trouble remembering exactly where. Late one night he’d “left his heart at the track.” He admitted he might have been close to delirium tremens at the time.
As he searched the grounds for some landmark to give him his bearings, she had to admit it was pleasant to be outdoors in the early morning breeze, walking along the lush green oval on mazy lanes lined with tropical flowers. No one was around but a slow-moving groundskeeper who was raking a gravel path near the track.
Raffy suddenly whispered (not that there was anyone to overhear them) that it was all coming back to him; he remembered where to dig (two posts from the finish line) and would do so as soon as the groundskeeper left. He meant “dig” literally, for he pulled a small trowel from a knapsack. He said he had buried the “heart” as a way of keeping it safe from “a bunch of ‘smiling damned villains,’ which included the rotten Miami cops. When Annie saw this treasure, Raffy vowed, she would also see the kind of man her father was.
“I know the kind of man he is,” she said. “He’s a crook. That’s a fact.”
“Facts have nothing to do with this. Let me tell you a little more about the man I knew.”
“No, don’t. Just go use your trowel.”
“Not till that groundskeeper leaves; they don’t like you to dig up the track.” Raffy pulled Annie down beside him on seats in the front boxes facing the finish line and offered her a bottle of water from his knapsack. “You like water? I never did. But now? It’s my honest preference.”
Back in the day, Raffy began, he had hung out here at the track every afternoon; it was his fascination with possibility—which horse was going to win which race—that had sadly led to his loss of his girlfriend, his house, and his car. Betting on the horses proved a worse way to earn a living even than a jazz band.
So, just as it had been Raffy’s preordained destiny that any horse on which he’d placed his entire life savings would inevitably finish dead last, despite the fact that the jockey (his cousin’s husband) had often sworn the winner was a done deal, when it wasn’t, so it had been his destiny to meet Jack Peregrine. “Jack’s name was Eddie Fettermann when I met him.” The slender man shrugged. “But what’s in a name?”
“Apparently