If even a portion of that information were to filter back to your wife, you would be in considerable difficulty. On the other hand, if your employer where to find out, you would be unemployed. There is, I believe, a rather crude but accurate American expression regarding the inappropriateness of getting one’s meat where one gets one’s bread.’
Develin and Yakinchuk were interrupted at that moment by Develin’s chauffeur. ‘Sir, is there anything I can do, sir?’
‘Thank you, Paddy,’ Develin said, not taking his eyes from Yakinchuk for a moment. ‘I believe I gave you the telephone number of the Mayor’s office yesterday. You might retrieve it for me in the unlikely event that I may wish to call him on the mobile phone.’
‘Yes sir,’ Paddy replied, backing away.
‘Don’t you try to threaten me,’ Yakinchuk growled.
Develin smiled an almost angelic smile. ‘But I already have tried; and succeeded. I believe you have been told in no uncertain terms to back off. Whether you wish to take that as a suggestion, a warning or an order is immaterial to me; just do it.’
2
Yakinchuk swallowed hard as the memory of his encounter with Develin dissolved leaving him suddenly and inexplicably saddened by the knowledge that this dangerous yet charismatic man was dead.
‘That’ll be five-fifty,’ the taxi driver intoned as he stopped the meter; his lack of enthusiasm for his chosen profession patently obvious.
Yakinchuk gave him six-fifty just to make his day, exited the taxi and stood blinking in the noonday sun like a devotee who had just exited a movie theatre after a matinée performance. The office building in front of him was just like any other office building except that this one contained a small but vital branch of the FBI. There would be no outward signs that such an office existed but Yakinchuk knew because it was run by a university buddy of his – Stan Munroe.
Munroe greeted Yakinchuk warmly, asked after Carol and the kids and signed Yakinchuk in. He handed him a visitor’s pass. ‘Hey, this is great; are you here to buy me lunch, or what?’
Yakinchuk smiled. ‘Actually I’m here to make use of your particular area of expertise.’
‘Okay so we’ll grab something to eat from the canteen and take it upstairs.’
Yakinchuk couldn’t help but smile as he walked into Munroe’s office and saw the huge glass bowl filled almost to the brim with jelly beans. He searched through, but as usual there were no black ones.
‘Go ahead, help yourself Vic,’ Munroe said as he began to open his pastrami and rye sandwich.
‘Why do you always eat the black ones?’
Munroe shrugged, ‘Because I always do; you know that. So, what’s up Vic?’
‘Births, deaths, marriages – I need you to check some names and dates.’
‘Sure, provided you can give me as much info as possible I can usually get the rest pretty fast.’
Yakinchuk paused to consider the best point of attack. ‘Okay, let’s start with Richard Develin.’
Munroe stared at him. ‘You mean Richard Mayfair Develin?’
‘Yeah so … Do you know him?’
‘I know of him, yes. You’re wasting your time Vic; he’s covert. Word is that he’s one of MI6’s favourite sons.’
‘Then word should also have it that he’s dead.’
Munroe swung around in his chair and began keying in the relevant data before pressing the send button. All he got back in the initial swoop was the obituary; the same one Yakinchuk had seen. ‘Christ Vic, he was only fifty years old.’
‘The obit doesn’t say it but I have reason to believe that he left behind a wife and one or maybe two kids.’
‘Why doesn’t it mention a wife and kids?’
‘Because I don’t think he wanted the whole world to know about them.’
‘Well, births, marriages, even death; they’re all public domain so, if they’re recorded, we should be able to access the information. I’ll give it another go.’
‘Try southern Ireland specifically.’
Munroe nodded as he called up the blank request form and keyed in as much information as he knew; which wasn’t much although it would prove sufficient. ‘Okay, here we go,’ he said, leaning forward. ‘Tipperary county, Ireland; that’s were the marriage is recorded. Groom: Richard Mayfair Develin. Bride: Sarah Winthrope Churchill. They were married, ah … oh Christ, they were married on December twenty-fourth last year.’
‘The same day he died,’ Yakinchuk said sadly. ‘Why does her name sound familiar?’
‘Let’s check it out. Sarah Churchill might be a fairly common name but the Winthrope should cut the field down nicely.’ Munroe pressed the send key then looked up at Yakinchuk. ‘Are you going to tell me what this is all about, Vic?’
‘Let it all roll first.’
Munroe stared at the computer output, totally dumbfounded as the results of his search came through. ‘This is crazy,’ he exclaimed. ‘There was a local girl - Sarah Winthrope Churchill who died New Year’s Day 1980 in a car accident out on old Highway Five. There’s another who married Develin and … ready for this Vic, a Sarah Winthrope Churchill Develin who married Merhot Mauphet Capritzo in February this year. The ceremony took place at Cavendish Hall, Tipperary County, Ireland.’ He swallowed hard as the full impact of the information hit him. ‘Didn’t Capritzo die in Ireland?’
‘He did; at Cavendish Hall, Tipperary County, in February of this year.’
‘God, I think I need a drink,’ Munroe declared, revolving free of his chair. He unlocked a steel filing cabinet then pulled open the bottom drawer. Inside was a veritable treasure-trove of alcohol. ‘What will it be Vic?’
When he turned Yakinchuk was reaching for the phone. Moments later he was through to Records. ‘Hello Betty; Vic Yakinchuk. Do me a favour honey; could you pull everything we have on a fatal automobile accident on New Year’s Day; victim’s name - Sarah Winthrope Churchill. It happened out on old Highway Five so it should be … Yeah, on my desk would be fine; thanks.’
Yakinchuk sat staring straight ahead, his mind in chaos. Over and over again he could hear Maggie’s words – Wild she’ll be with raging green eyes and hair the colour of fire. She will bear his name though their union is of the devil. Beware of her for it is very like she has killed once already and will do so again if needs must.
‘What do you know about how Capritzo died? I know you guys must have
