Prince Ali Read online

  Dad steadied Mom as they walked to the ambulance. Becky was already loaded inside. One of the paramedics helped Mom inside and showed her where to sit so she could be with her daughter and out of their way as they worked. The other paramedic riding in the back took out his clipboard and began to gather information for Becky’s chart. The driver hit the siren switch again as they pulled away from the curb heading for the hospital.

  The wail of the siren cracked the air like thunder. Grief struck Dad hard as he watched the ambulance get smaller and smaller in the distance. He almost fell to his knees. He was watching the two most precious things in his life leaving him on the curb alone. It took his breath away.

  Dad stood watching the ambulance until it disappeared then decided it was time for him to “man up” and get moving. He locked up the truck and trailer and ran to his car hoping there would be some good news waiting for him at the hospital.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Two Orange County Sheriff’s cars showed up at the staging area just as Dad drove away. The deputies talked to by-standers, trying to figure out what happened. When they heard who the victim was, they were very concerned. “That is an important family here. We’d better get the Watch Commander involved right away,” one of them said.

  They called their Watch Commander. They told him about Becky Howard. They told him a famous horse owned by the Howards was missing. They didn’t have much information on the case yet but thought he’d want to get involved now.

  The Watch Commander’s ears perked up when he heard the name of the victim. “Would that be the daughter of Walter and Caroline Howard?” he asked. He personally knew and liked Walter Howard and knew the Howards’ reputation. They were heavily involved in their community, state politics and local charities. He also knew about their horse and instantly wondered if this could be a horse-napping for ransom.

  He called the Detective Commander and his superiors immediately. The DC assigned four detectives. Two went to the crime scene to interview witnesses and gather any evidence they could find. The Lead Detective on the case went with his partner to the hospital to interview the Howards. The DC assigned other people to the case. Calls went out fast and furious to different agencies.

  The U.S. Border Patrol received a call immediately. The horse would be stopped at the border if the suspects tried to get him out of the country that way. To help identify him the Border Patrol requested photographs. The Sheriff’s Department promised to get them copies when they got them. The State Fish and Wildlife Department was called because they handle cases that involve animals. They were promised a photograph when one was available. Orange County Sheriff Nolan’s office got a call directly because of the high profile nature of the family involved. The Sheriff’s Department Public Information Officer was alerted in case the media contacted him. The deputies at the parking lot asked all by-standers who might have information to wait until the Detectives got there. Detectives Sharp and Newsome arrived with lights flashing. They looked over the crime scene and collected anything they thought was evidence. They did find some long blonde hairs and some blood on the side of the building. They picked up the syringe Danny dropped. They bagged a cigarette butt found lying on the pavement in front of the Howard’s truck just in case.

  They interviewed by-standers. After they talked to the young man who saw the two guys loading a gray horse into a trailer and take off, they made some calls. They set him up with a Sheriff’s Department sketch artist. They got a verbal description on the truck, trailer and the two men, and called it in to their Commander. He had an All-Points Bulletin (APB) issued to every law enforcement agency in the State.

  Darryl Finn owned and ran the local newspaper for San Juan, Dana Point, and several small surrounding cities. He was at the parade with his photographer to cover the story for his own newspaper. His photographer had many pictures of the parade, the crowds and the awards ceremony.

  Finn heard a rumor something was going on in the trailer parking lot. He hurried over to check it out. When he spoke with people in the lot and heard what they knew, he rushed back to the El Mercado to inform the Mayor. The area was closed to cars but filled curb to curb with crowds of people going this way and that.

  Finn and Mayor Sterling elbowed their way back to the parking area. They found the Detectives working the case. Detective Newsome brought them up to date with all they knew at the time. They swapped cards so they could stay in touch.

  Finn scribbled in his notebook. He asked his photographer to take pictures of the Howard’s empty truck and trailer for the story. Newsome asked him if he had any photos of the missing horse. They reviewed the digital images on the photographer’s camera. Newsome asked, “Why don’t you guys jump in my squad car. I can get through the barricades quicker. If we go back to your office and transfer the images to my department, it will save us a lot of time.” The photos were of Ali in his costume but they were all they had right now. When the photos were transferred, Newsome dropped Finn and the photographer back at the parking area.

  On the way, Newsome called his DC and asked if Detectives Nelson and Bentley could get better photos from the Howards at the hospital. Darryl Finn overheard and made a note to himself to ask the Howards for photos for his story too.

  When Detectives Sharp and Newsome finished their investigation, Darryl Finn rushed off to the newspaper office on foot to make some phone calls. His car was parked there because of the street closures. He’d need it to get over to the hospital too.

  Finn was well-connected in the media world. He’d spent 40 years as a headline reporter for a major East Coast newspaper before retiring to San Juan Capistrano. He made a phone call to a reporter friend of his, Marcia Phillips, who worked for local network TV. He told her what he knew at that point and gave her the background on the Howards and their horse. He suggested she bring a truck and cameraperson to the hospital. He told her Mayor Sterling was on his way with several members of the City Council so she could look them up for updates.

  Finn contacted newspaper reporter friends from the Orange County Register, LA Times, Chicago Tribune, USA Today, Dallas News, San Francisco Chronicle, Denver Post, Boston Globe and the New York Times. He set up a large conference call so he didn’t have to repeat himself so many times. He promised to funnel them information as he got it. Finn knew Prince Ali had a national, and possibly international, fan base. He promised to transfer the digital images he had. One was a nice picture of Ali with the Howards and Mayor Sterling. That photo was taken an hour before the incident. It would definitely be a good human interest photo. It included a happy, smiling Becky Howard hugging her horse.

  Finn was satisfied when he hung up the phone at last. He suspected this was going to be a media circus. He was excited to be the one get the story out. He grabbed his car keys, locked up the office and left for Mission Hospital to see what was going on there.

  Dad caught up with Mom in the Emergency Room at the hospital. She was in the waiting room. “How is she, honey? Do you know anything yet?” he asked, out of breath again.

  “The doctors are working on her now. They asked me to wait here.” Mom replied, now dry eyed and pale. “She wasn’t responding in the ambulance but she is breathing on her own and her heart is stable.”

  They sat side by side, Dad holding her to him with one arm as they waited for news. The minutes dragged on and on and on. They sat wrapped in their own thoughts and just waited.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Calvin drove north on Interstate 5 in the slow lane at the speed limit. He didn’t want to call attention to themselves. They were both perspiring from the adrenaline rush.

  “Phew, we did it little brother! I’m thinkin’ he probably weighs nine hundred to a thousand pounds, so that’s …., let’s see …., at fifty cents a pound …., maybe four hundred fifty to five hundred bucks. Looks like we goin’ to party after all!”

  Danny had a hard time controlling his emotions. He wasn’t sure if he was mad, scared, relieved or what. He was very a
nxious. He thought about that little girl lying on the asphalt with blood in her hair. She looked so small. He wanted her to be okay. He didn’t want to be responsible for killing her.

  Danny turned on the radio and fiddled with the dial until he found a station he liked. Danny turned the volume dial up on the radio, “Hey, I LOVE this song,” and he began tapping to the beat on his knees. When the song was over, he turned the volume back down.

  “Hey, Cal, why do you keep saying he’s worth fifty cents a pound anyway? We both know he’s worth more than that. Can’t we get more for him?”

  “I told you I met this guy, Ed Tweedy, at Red’s a coupla weeks ago. He buys and sells horses all the time. He’s got a 60 acre ranch in the High Desert where he keeps ‘em. He buys ‘em at horse auctions for a coupla hundred bucks, and puts some weight on the skinny ones. Some of them, if they’re good horses that he buys legit, he can sell for more than he paid for ‘em. The others he just fattens up and hauls to Mexico for slaughter. People give him horses they don’t want no more ‘cause they’re old or crippled. Some people sell him horses. He don’t ask no questions. There are horse buyers that insist on Bill-a-Sale or papers of some kind to prove you own the horse. They only buy at auctions that are legit. Not this guy. He’ll buy anything! That works for us ‘cause we don’t have no papers on this guy.”

  “Why take ‘em to Mexico?”

  “’Cause we don’t do no horse slaughter in this country. Horse people got laws passed to stop that. But Ed told me the President signed a new law that might bring slaughter plants back. It’ll make his job easier, won’t have to leave the country to make his money, just head for Missouri or Wyoming.”

  “But, why Mexico?”

  “Only two places you can haul horses for slaughter from the States is Canada or Mexico, and Mexico’s only three hours away for him. Like I said, he takes horses and don’t ask no questions. If he gets one he thinks could be hot, he dummies up some paperwork and hauls them across the border. Over there, they’re just meat, hides and hooves in a coupla minutes. No way to trace ‘em and he makes a quick dollar a pound and is back in the States before anybody knows the horse is missing.”

  “Do people really eat horses there?”

  “Well, it’s cheaper than cow and if you’re hungry, you’ll eat anything. Most of it prob’ly goes to dog food and they might ship some overseas. People in some countries in Europe eat horse meat. Speaking of which, hand me my cell phone. I gotta call and let him know we’re comin”

  Danny handed Calvin the cell phone and he made the call. “Right, know where that is….be there in about two hours. See ya then.” Calvin snapped the phone shut. “He’ll be waiting for us,” he told Danny.

  “Well,” grumbled Danny, “I still don’t get why we can’t get more for this guy. He sure is a pretty one.”

  “Haven’t you been listenin’ to me? We don’t got no papers on him! He’s hot! We gotta dump him quick. And this guy don’t ask too many questions, you big dummy. It’s fast cash for us. All we had to do was snatch ‘im and drop ‘im off and collect our money.” Calvin looked at Danny with irritation.

  Danny never was the brightest bulb in the box. But eventually he understood their position and sat back to listen to the radio as Calvin drove the old truck up the freeway.

  “Ya know,” Danny said quietly, “I feel kinda bad about this guy,” poking his thumb backward over his shoulder. “He didn’t do nothin’ to deserve this. He’s goin’ to be dog food in a few hours, like ya said. And I like horses. In fact, I like horses more than most people.”

  “Well, don’t get your panties in a twist! You don’t know this horse from Adam and we need the cash.” answered Calvin. “You are going to enjoy that birthday party. Just think of it that way and don’t go stewin’ over it.”

  As they rumbled northward through Saturday afternoon traffic on Interstate 5, neither of the brothers had much to say. The drive across the Los Angeles area was uneventful except for slow traffic at the interchanges where they changed freeways.

  Ali was half conscious most of the way. He was used to being hauled so this was nothing new to him. One knee at a time would buckle on occasion and the trailer swayed a bit as he regained his footing. He began to come back to himself slowly the further they went. About the time they merged from Interstate 405 onto the Antelope Valley Freeway, his head was mostly clear.

  He was in an unfamiliar trailer and had no idea how he’d gotten there. He whinnied loudly a couple of times, but settled down to pick at the stale hay in the hay bag. He wondered where he was going. This didn’t look like any place he’d been before. He could see the countryside from the trailer window. The hills looked bare and rocky, not at all like the area near his home.

  In the truck cab the news came on the radio. Danny was just about to change the station to something he liked when the newsman announced “Breaking News.” Danny’s hand was on the dial when he heard, “The most famous Arabian horse in the country was stolen this afternoon from the parking area in San Juan Capistrano following the Swallows Day Parade.”

  “Oh, crap!” Calvin exclaimed, “Turn that up!”

  Danny turned up the volume.

  “Prince Ali, a gray International Champion Arabian horse, was taken from his owner’s trailer this afternoon by two men driving an older blue truck towing an older blue and white horse trailer. It was reported this horse had just been awarded the Keys to the City of San Juan Capistrano for bravery in stopping a potential stampede during the parade. The horse was also the Grand Marshall of the parade.”

  “The men are suspected of causing serious injury to the owner’s 13 year old daughter who is currently in Mission Hospital in San Juan Capistrano fighting for her life.”

  “The suspects are two men described as white, mid-twenties to early thirties, both with blonde hair wearing ball caps and blue work shirts and jeans. In a highly unusual attempt to recover the horse, police have issued an Amber Alert. Anyone seeing these two men or their truck and trailer are encouraged to call the California Highway Patrol or their local law enforcement and report their location…. and the weather today in the LA Basin will be generally sunny and mild with slight breezes, 72 degrees in downtown LA…..”

  “Holy cow!” Calvin shouted. “We‘re in big trouble! We’d better get off the freeway quick. I know there’s several back roads into the High Desert from here but some of them are just dirt roads. The longer we stay on the freeway with that horse in this rig, the better our chances of getting stopped! We prob’ly stick out like a sore thumb.” He began to sweat again. He’d been in jail before, but this would get them a long stretch in prison.

  “Danny, get out the map. I’ll take the next off-ramp and park under it where we can’t be seen ‘till we figure out which way to go.”

  Danny fumbled through the glove box for a map. Calvin turned off the freeway at the next exit and parked the rig under the freeway overpass. “Better call Ed and tell ‘im we’re goin’ to be a bit late. Wish I had a cold one. Need somethin’ to calm me down. I gotta think about this.”

  “Oh Man!” Danny shouted, “You really got us into it this time! Just take any horse, you said, it won’t matter. It’s just meat on the hoof. Well, we took the wrong darned horse! And that little girl is in the hospital. What’re we goin’ to do now??” He was shaking and sweating and scared to death.

  “Just shut up and give me the phone,” Calvin growled. “I gotta call Ed.”

  “Okay …. Okay! Here!” Danny tossed him the phone. “Here’s the map too! See if you can figure a way outa this mess you got us into.” He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He crossed his legs. He nervously twitched his raised foot.

  Calvin dialed the phone and Ed Tweedy picked up after two rings. “Hey, Ed. We’re on our way, but we might have a little problem. Just heard a breaking news story on the radio and we might have a famous horse in our trailer ….. yeah, he’s gray. …. yeah, I understand …. You’ve seen it on TV?? Holy crud! …. To
o hot for you to handle?? ….yeah, I get it. …. We’re under the over-pass at Vasquez Rocks right now. ….dump the horse? …. You got any ideas where we can take ‘im and get rid of ‘im?” Calvin listened for a minute, then asked Danny for a pen and piece of paper. “Yeah, I’m writin’ it down, can you give me those directions again?” He scribbled furiously on the scrap of paper Danny found in the glove box. “Okay. See you another time.” he said as he closed the phone.

  Calvin looked over at Danny. “Ed Tweedy won’t take this horse. Says he’s too hot to handle and doesn’t want to get caught with him, takin’ stolen property and all. Says we’d better dump him quick. He gave me the name of an old guy he knows not far from here that’ll prob’ly give us a coupla hundred bucks for him as a pack horse. Says the guy’s a crazy old prospector out in these parts who keeps lookin’ for the gold Vasquez, the bandit, was supposed to have hidden in these rocks. I got directions. Let’s head on over and see what kind of deal we can do.”

  Calvin turned the truck around and headed east until he came to the dirt road Ed Tweedy told him to look for. He turned left and headed north into the hills. The dirt road looked like it never saw much traffic. The hills were almost completely bare except for the rocks and squat growing desert plants. This time of year a few California poppies struggled to poke their heads above ground in the arid desert soil. There wasn’t much to look at. The truck bumped along the desert track, mile after mile, climbing as they went.

  “Better to be a pack horse for some old fool than what you had in mind for ‘im,” Danny said thoughtfully. “Better to work in this heat and rocks than be turned into dog food in a coupla hours.”

  “Oh, shut up, ya big dummy!” Calvin spit out. “I told you not to get your panties in a twist over it. You’re in this just as deep as I am. And, you’re the one that tossed that little girl into the building in the first place! Sure wish I had a cold one ‘bout now.”