Out Of Hounds

CHAPTER 24

March 4, 2020 Wednesday

“Look at the fixture card.” Walter sat with Sister at the Keswick Sports Club Grille.

“We usually end on the Saturday closest to St. Patrick’s Day. What’s the problem?”

“I’m not sure, but today at the hospital after surgery the head of the department called all of us into his office. As you know, there’s the virus that had appeared in Wuhan, China. Coronavirus-19 is devastating Italy, in Germany, moving globally.”

“I can’t say I’ve paid a lot of attention to it because I never know if what is reported from China is the truth.”

“The virus is the truth. The statements that it’s not serious are not. There is no First Amendment in China, as you know, so no one will admit anything until this thing is totally out of control.”

“Meaning it will arrive here?” she questioned.

“Thanks to air travel, Sister, it probably is already here. We just don’t know it. In a healthy person it seems like sniffles, a bit of fever, and being sluggish, but that passes after a day or two. There are people getting off planes at all our international airports who have traveled to China, to Italy, etc.”

“No one has said anything.”

“That’s why the department head called us in. He warned us that we are woefully unprepared. We don’t have enough of what we need, and that includes healthcare workers. The virus has to make its way across the Mideast and Europe before it erupts here full scale, but he advised us to prepare. He and the other department heads will meet tomorrow. We’ll need more beds and ventilators. Shortness of breath is a primary indicator.”

“Can hounds and horses get it?”

He smiled. “I knew you would ask that. So far no to horses, but if an infected person coughed and a hound inhaled the droplets, perhaps.”

“Do you think this will affect hunting? Our fixture card is operating for another eleven days.”

“It might. I don’t worry about you or staff. Nor the members. We are out in the open. Tailgates could be a problem if this hits before we think it will. But I don’t see how the virus can miss us.”

“Well, Walter, how fatal is it?”

“Depends on age and robustness. Older people, those over sixty, are vulnerable. You, probably not. Let’s say someone who has diabetes, any age, or someone who has suffered a stroke or has a chronic condition. Anyone who has had an organ transplant better be careful. The percent of death relative to age is beginning to become clear, but no one knows how long the virus can live, say, on a table. It’s what we don’t know right now that is the problem.”

“Let’s wait until things are more clear. All any communication to members can do at this point is frighten people. But if the time comes, I will send a letter out after you read and sign it.” Sister paused. “So you will be exposed no matter what, don’t you think?”

He nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a doctor. I’m exposed to stuff every day.”

“Sister.” Carter Nicewonder came in wearing a bespoke sports coat with a silk lime green tie, which worked for him, Mrs. Redmayne at his side.

Sister smiled. “Mrs. Redmayne, how good to see you.”

“And you, Sister and Walter. I don’t get out much anymore. When I do I am happy to see everyone, and everyone looking so well.”

“Tomorrow’s hunt can’t be as good as Tuesday’s. What a barnburner.” He grinned.

“Isn’t it peculiar to partake of a sport where your star never tells you anything? For all I know, tomorrow might be another wild one. I hope so.”

“I do, too.”

“Good to see you, Mrs. Redmayne. Please come out with us anytime. We have our followers, and you know all of us.”

As they walked to their table near the fireplace Sister watched Mrs. Redmayne, a woman twenty years older than herself, an elegant woman. Age slowed her down but she still turned out like a star.

“Carter always knows who has the best jewelry.” She smiled. “It’s not me.”

“The engagement ring Ray gave you is stunning and I hardly know about jewelry, but that is one monster diamond. Plus you have those painted crystals, the hunt ones.”

“Every now and then my late husband did come through.” She waited for the waitress to place her salad in front of her. “Carter is a patient man. He keeps relationships fresh. He’s much like Harry Dunbar that way.”

“After that grand opening I think Kathleen will make it.”

“I do, too, plus Aunt Daniella will steer her in the right direction and to the right people. And possibly she and Buddy Cadwalder can share customers, special events.” She thought a long time. “Walter, you know I am not a conspiracy theorist.”

“I do.”

“But what if whatever you call this corona…”

“Coronavirus-19.”

“What if this was something being worked on, a kind of germ warfare and it got away from the Chinese or an unbalanced person let it loose? Is that possible?”

“It is,” he quietly replied.

“What a strange world. Strange to even think of that.” She grimaced.

“Any news on the stolen Munnings?” Walter switched gears.

“No. O.J. visited Fennell’s. The police had been there to look at sales of lead shanks. Well, Fennell’s sells hundreds of them each year to the stud farms, as well as foal halters then regular halters as they grow. No way to keep track of all the new lead shanks. The only murder victims that have been identified are Parker Bell and Delores Buckingham,” Sister answered. “The other drivers remain unknown.”

“If this virus really takes off, what a cover for the thieves! Everyone will be distracted.” Walter had just thought of that.

“Thieves are clever. There are a fair number of Munnings here in our country. You’d think they would have hit Great Britain first.”

“True. I expect this is the work of Americans.” Walter speared an artichoke. “As long as the thefts involved Munnings, I guess that is some form of clue.”

“There’s logic to it somewhere, along with the value of the work. The problem with logic is what’s logical to you may not be logical to me.” Sister sighed.

“If you want an exercise in logic, be a doctor. People do the damndest things to their body or ignore their body. Then again, there must be comfort in denial.”

“To kind of change the subject. Do you think most criminals get caught in the end?”

He shook his head. “No. The smartest criminals are white collar. Every day they steal from the companies they work for, or if elected steal from the people or suck up whatever lobbyists give them.

“Actually, I’m not against lobbyists presenting their case. But I am against money under the table or other vices perhaps far more interesting than money. While I’m at it, any progress from Crawford’s private detective?”

“No.” Then Sister said, “I’ll make you a bet. Fifty dollars. I bet whoever the thieves and the killers are, they are part of the show world or the racing world.”

Walter smiled. “I’ll take that bet and double it. I bet whoever this is in some way is involved in the art market or a museum.”

They shook hands. “You’re on,” both said.