America but not before he was informed that the body of one of the grooms had been found dead in a loose box in the stables. He had been kicked to death sometime during the night by Charles Develin’s stallion. No one heard a thing.
If Margarette Develin had half the intelligence she pretended she had she would have left Cavendish Hall immediately but then again, no one bothered to tell her that her lover was dead, until it was too late that is.
*****
Sarah ordered concrete to be poured on top of Charles Develin grave and when it was firm enough, a Celtic cross one foot long and made of bronze was embedded into it. There was no mention of his name anywhere. She knelt down at the foot of his grave. ‘Stay there you bastard,’ she whispered. ‘If you ever come near my children I swear to God I will personally dig you up and burn what’s left of you.’
5
Jack stood by the gate leading into the fenced enclosure; an enclosure which contained the graves of Yusuf Sarquazi, his mother and his uncle. The mounded earth was planted by Sarah with three different varieties of ivy, one for each grave in the hope that in time the plants would meet and mingle, uniting in death a brother and a sister, an uncle and a nephew, a mother and her son. The plants it seemed were eager to please her because they had managed in a very short space of time to do precisely what she wished them to do. The shimmering, multi-coloured and multi-patterned leaves were far more beautiful than the zellij tilework which Jack had seen in various mausoleums and cemeteries throughout Morocco.
Yusuf Sarquazi’s sudden death was tragic yes, but it was also a tragedy. Jack’s English teacher in high school was something of a drama buff so the definition of a true classical tragedy was drill into Jack and his classmates on more than one occasion. It was also one of the questions on his final exam. Define tragedy in the classical sense.
A play/film in which the protagonist, usually a man of importance and outstanding personal qualities, falls to disaster through the combination of a personal failing and circumstances with which he cannot deal.
Jack had it down pat and even managed an A grade on the paper.
He stared at Sarquazi’s grave. ‘Why did you insist on having the martingale removed? Why didn’t you trust that Ian McIver knew what was best? If the horse had been wearing it then …’
‘It is the will of Allah,’ Mirah had said, trying to comfort him, ‘and we are not to seek to know the why of it. Your Christian prayer, it too says Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Is this not true Jack?’
‘Yes, it’s true.’
Ian had told Carl Emery that Sarquazi seemed to be showing off in front of Sarah. Ordering Ian to remove the martingale; treating him like a servant or a slave even. And, when Sarah tried to change his mind he rounded on her and cut her short with a warning glance. Ian admitted that he was openly embarrassed for her because it was obvious that this wasn’t the first time Sarquazi had treated her like that.
‘Do not interfere again in that which I do.’
*****
‘Jack Mulphy,’ Sarah said, smiling despite the fact that saying goodbye to Richard and Yusuf, even for a little while, had distressed her greatly, ‘this is a pleasant surprise.’
Jack whipped his baseball cap off his head and returned her smile. She was as beautiful as ever, tall and slender with a wealth of hair the colour of fire. And her eyes: twin emeralds. She was elegantly dressed in an ivory-coloured suit. Around her neck a magnificent set of real pearls: a gift from Richard in a long-ago time.
‘Hello ma’am, nice to see you again. I guess I would have stayed with the ship but … I found his Mercedes in the forward hold and, quite frankly ma’am, I couldn’t resist.’ The smile faded. ‘Abran and I, we both tried everything, hoping that the Council would allow you more time but … they wanted the lord Sarquazi’s children returned immediately and there was nothing more we could do. The gathering of the Benghazi families has been proclaimed and so it must be. I’m sorry.’
‘I understand. I can’t pretend that I am not extremely anxious about this move Mr. Mulphy but equally I can see advantages for all my children in a wider world. Hopefully we can negotiate an arrangement whereby they can enjoy both cultures.’
‘Yes, I’m sure something can be arranged.’
Behind Sarah stood a strongly built man with curly black hair and a Mediterranean complexion. Jack guessed his age to be around twenty-eight and he also guessed that he was ex-SAS. You can always tell. He was immaculately dressed in a dark grey suit, white shirt and ultra-conservative tie and he was eyeing Jack, his jeans, his psychedelic tee-shirt, tan-coloured leather jacket, expensive running shoes and Yankee’s baseball cap; the whole ensemble with a great deal of suspicion.
Recognizing this, Jack made a mental note to spiff up a bit, especially around her.
Introductions were in order. ‘Mr. David Rossi, this is Mr. Jack Mulphy. Mr. Mulphy is Comptroller of Sarquazi Enterprises International. He is also a personal friend.’ Rossi was instantly impressed. ‘Mr. Rossi is one of two bodyguards Mr. Mulphy. You will shortly meet Mr. Craig Heywood who is also dedicated to the protection of not only my person but my children as well.’ Jack and David shook hands.
‘Well, we had best get back to the house now Mr. Rossi. Mr. Mulphy, you are welcome to join us for lunch then we must depart.’
‘Thank you ma’am, I would be delighted.’ Jack checked the time. ‘I ah … if you don’t mind ma’am I’d like to hang back for a bit. Say hello and then goodbye – again.’
She nodded as her eyes drifted to Sarquazi’s grave. ‘The ivy has done well hasn’t it?’
6
Jack remembered being both fascinated and appalled when Carl told him about the death of Merhot Capritzo, Yusuf Sarquazi’s twin brother. It all happened in February, 1981; just six weeks after Richard Develin’s death.
But the story really began with Colin Raintree, a stable groom who had been fired by Richard Develin personally months before for drunkenness and gross incompetence.
‘It was all Develin’s hulking great black Friesian stallion’s fault; stupid animal. Mephistopheles, now what the hell kind of name is that for a horse?’
When Raintree found out that it was another name for the Devil he thought it suited just right ‘cause he was one evil pile of horseflesh and that was the truth. Develin now, he could handle that horse with ease. Do anything with him. More than once Colin thought that the two of them suited each other right down to the ground: Black horse, Black heart.
The horse had turned colic on him just after Ian McIver left for Dublin. ‘You set me up McIver; you bastard!’ Raintree tried, he tried real hard to get the animal up and walking but it refused. Screaming with pain and thrashing about anyone would need a drink or two with something like that going on. ‘So fucking what if I broke the rules? Who gives a shit?’
‘Mr.
