THE BIG UN.
A Greyhound story, in 5 parts.this evening, No 1. Escape to the Hills.
The Big Un. A Fictional Tale of Greyhound Intrigue, and Chicanery. Were the true Beauty of Hound. Versus, Human nature. Occurs.
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Chapter one,
Escape to the Hills
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No need to knock on the door, Clar knew who it was as there were only two people within a 5 mile radius.and the other 2 were vicars,
As Donul. Opened the door, he could smell that his wife had some work.
Any sort of work was a bonus.
The smell was of rosemary and that would only suggest one thing,
There was a dead body in the spare room of there hut.
How Donul and his wife, found themselves living on the foot of lost mountain, in a dwellers shack, is a long story,
Donul was one of Irelands greatest greyhound trainer, breeder, vet, what ever a greyhound lover wished to do, he could do it
Born the son of a great, horse trainer, Donul, loved Greyhounds and with the support of his father he was schooled to be a vet.
Winning a top rosette at crufts, was the start of a love affair that never left him,
After his father died, there were to many siblings around for him to have any in expectancies of a inheritance, so he was left in the big wide world, relatively poor, but with hands of a god, soft and gentle.
Fortunately for him his wife also, had the feel, but in her case as an osteopath.
As soon as he started breeding for a living, it wasn’t long before he was pulled into the racing side of the breed, although a non gambler, he became notorious, as a tricky customer, tricky more as an excellence than meaning a cheat. if he was asked to purchase a game, honest hound, he never let any one down.,
Donul didn’t know how to cheat, but as a judge, of a greyhound’s ability he was exceptional.
Within 5 years he had moved from winning flaps, (Unregistered tracks) for small silver cups, to winning some of the best flapping events in the Ireland, both north and south.
It came as a great worry the first time he realised he would need to gamble. If he wished to remain, doing what he loved, as his expenses, grew, so did a realisation that he had be more professional.
In 1975 he was approached by someone who is better to remain a secret, we will call him Mr,B as in Big,
Donul was religious, but never political. His new partner was non religious and very political.
So as not to beat about the bush, he was in fact a moneyman for the political wing of the Ira, during the 30.s he was very much part of the Irish Sweepstake. That became enormous, and made some very large fortunes.
B loved to GAMBLE but not in a small way, he always said to Donul. If it’s worth backing, then, act like a lion, and kill all in your path.
I assume he only meant that in financial terms.
The two together became unbeatable and carved new pages, in the history of greyhound racing during the period.
For over 5 years the few times that their big gambles were beaten, we may as well say they were unbeatable.
That was until. After Year 4, It had become obvious that non of there bets, would be accepted, any more, bets of 1000 punts were restricted,
Young puppies, would be priced up as very short favourite, in all of the anti post events, and if there were more than one litter puppy entered they would be joint favourites,
They had become defeated by there own success.
It was at this stage that the partnership reached it’s cross roads,
It wasn’t worth while, any more, if they could no longer get on, Mr Big, suggested plan b, “instead of gambling to win why not gamble to lose. No way would Donul ever contemplate, stopping a greyhound of his, but Mr B was a different, kettle of fish,. he hated to be beaten, in anything he did, he had no problem with stopping one of there dogs, for financial gain, it was a clash of morals, there relationship,began to flounder.
Over a month period, several of there top dogs were beaten, and although Donul didn’t know a great deal of the inner most, working of the gambling industry, it was clear, what was happening. The prices were drifting; someone was stopping their dogs, but how?
When they had started together it was a straightforward 50/50 arrangement,
All gambling would be conducted, by B,
All training matters by Donul
Any bills vets, or running cost would just be handed like any business, every month both the two would be given an equall wage, taken out of there winnings.
Within 3 months there float, was sizeable, running cost, and the purchasing of any new Dogs, Brood Bitches,, was taken out of the one float, and run like an accountant, would everything itemized,
By the end of the first 12 months, over £100,000 existed in the Account. That was net, and all though there was no mention of what would be done when or if the partnership, was broken, the money was all in B’s bank account.
Within a few months, Donul was passed a statement of running costs, the bad spell had reduced their winnings by 50%,
That weekend, they had entered their champion sprinter in an open event at Dublin,
This was the dog that Donul thought would create all new records, and it had sailed through the heats, entering the final as odds on,
At no way could Donul interfere with what MrB did in the Gambling side of things, and every day, he was notified, that they had backed there dog again. In fact by the time of the race they had over 25,000 punts running on their dog at an average price just above evens, .
What could Donul do, every time he was asked what he thought of the dogs chance, he would always answer in the positive. Even the unlucky patch was passed over as an unlucky spell, but luck was no hindrance to their sprinter, it would just be off and clear. On times alone he would not only win by 10 lengths he would break the track record,
That morning the telephone rung, it was from a local vet, the one who handled all the stable requirements out of his range owing to modern equipment, he had been asked to perform a private and secretive test on the greyhound beaten most recently.
Although it had only been beaten a short distance and had caused no concern, to the track security, he had made his own enquiry unbeknown to his partner.
The report was damming,
The greyhound had been stopped from winning. not enough to be seen by the naked eye, it was a sedative that caused, manoeuvrability, and not direct speed so it was the way a dog would run a bend that was the problem, usually running into trouble by checking.
That was impossible Donul had protected the dog at all times, and only he had keys to the kennels that were locked every evening.
There was only one spare set of keys. ?? the ones held at B’s office for emergency.
That night there was a telephone call from B, “How is the Dog” as positive as always Donul gave a glowing report, as to the health of there favourite, even telling him that he had switched, the dog out of its normal kennel, and into one right by the trainers door,just as a safety measure,
The next morning, Donul looked at the black dog, that had been substituted, what ever had been used it was impossible to detect without a full blood test, the dog was taken for a walk, and allowed to chase a few rabbits when he did everything appeared fine until he had to change course,
Donul, was distraught, the only good point was that the champ was safe for he had slept, at the foot of the couples bed.
When they arrived at the track, it was clear by all that the favourite was easy in the betting market, having drifted from evens to 6/4 someone was not as confidant as Donul.
The longer time passed the bigger the price, to every one who asked if there was anything wrong with the dog, all the trainer could say he was in great condition.
The race was as boring as was expected, hitting the traps, like the champion he was, clear at the first, taking the bend like a train on rails, it was home and dry. breaking the track record in the process.
Just a glance of B’s face sent a shiver down the trainer’s spine. and he was pleased to be off the track and home. safe, from any ramifications.
Just as he was getting into his Van, he heard the loud voice, of B.
“I will see you tomorrow at my office, 9.30 Sharp”
Not the response from a 25,000 punt success, Donul thought,
The next mornings, meeting was short sharp and to the point.,
“I want you out of the Kennels with your wife, by 12.0
Donul was not going to go anywhere without some explanation“What about the money we have won, it was 50,000 punt even before last night’s win.”
The sound of Mr B’s voice increased by several decibels. “I will repeat I want you out of the kennel by 12.0 you go out the same as you come in with nothing other than your life”, “and if I see you again, even that will be in jeopardy. Many of the people who did last nights business, are seeking retribution.”, and they are not the type of people to mess with”
Every time that Donul thought about That meeting, he went into a shiver, it did not require, a history lesson, on who he was dealing with, to know why the couple had bolted, and was the reason why they were living at the foot of Ox Mountain, known as the Hill of the Fairies, Before they had left Dublin, he had made a phone call to a school chum who could be trusted, many years before Pat, had been caught in the bed of an arms expert, known to have a nasty temper, coming to the conclusion that he had made a simple mistake, but one that was not simple to overcome, he had arrived at the same conclusion as Donul, one of survival. he had also bolted to Sligo. but in his case his family had enough to help him move. he now owned a small pub, open for the 4 month season, and a few hill climbers.
The only money Donul had was gained as a partime handy man, doing the patching up of property owned by people as hard up as them, it was a small community, of strugglers, his wife also helped as an unofficial nurse,there at hand for the arrival of babies, or the passing of the deceased, as was the case at that moment,
But at least they were Safe. from what was a different matter.
Chapter 2.
Saved by a Sporting Life.
