BLINDFOLD

by Lyndon Stacey

  `But why sell to Slade?' That was the thing that had been puzzling Gideon most of all. `Selling a share to you I can understand. But why get involved with someone like that?'

  `You know Slade?' Rosetti sounded surprised. `We've met.'

  `Well, unfortunately he was already involved. It was Slade Tom owed the money to and he was getting impatient. What I could afford to pay for my share wouldn't cover it, so he let Slade in on the deal, promising him that it was an investment and that the stud fees would soon more than cover his debt. What he should have done was sell Sox outright to someone else, pay Slade off once and for all and be shut of him. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He's very fond - was very fond - of that horse.'

  `So when did it start to go wrong?' Gideon asked.

  `Wrong?' All of a sudden, Rosetti looked wary. `What do you mean?'

  `I was called out to see a horse called Whitewings today,' he prodded gently.

  The vet held his gaze for what seemed an age and Gideon could sense the flurry of frantic mental activity behind the black eyes, then Rosetti bowed his head and rubbed his brow with the palm of his hand as if he had a headache. All at once he looked desperately weary.

  `So you know,' he said after a moment. `Or you've guessed. How much? All of it?'

  `Most of it. I think I know the how but I'm not so sure of the why, and I'd like to hear it from you.'

  Rosetti got to his feet and absent-mindedly helped himself to soup from the vending machine. `Are you sure you won't?' he asked, gesturing at the machine.

  `Okay,' Gideon nodded. `Coffee, please.' Somehow it helped restore a measure of normality to a wretched situation.

  Rosetti walked round behind Gideon to deliver the coffee but his body language signalled no threat. Then he sat heavily in his chair and sighed once more.

  `I don't expect you to believe this, but I'rn glad you know. I'm glad it's finally all out in the open.'

  Gideon saw no reason to tell him that it was not yet common knowledge; that he'd told only one other person, and then not the whole story. The assumption that the facts were generally known was a kind of insurance, if he should need it. He didn't think he would.

  `So how did Tom get mixed up with a rat like Slade in the beginning?' he asked. `They're hardly in the same line of business.' `No,' Rosetti shook his head sadly. `But they are in the same line of recreation. Gambling. I gather Slade runs illegal poker games for big money. Tom met him over a friendly game of cards with some mates and got drawn in. He's always had a gambling problem, and although he had it under control for a while, it's like alcoholism, you're never really cured, only in remission. He told me he was feeling a bit low at the time, what with Sox's accident and Annabel going off to university. She was his little girl.'

  `I never knew he had a problem.'

  `Well, no, 1 didn't to start with. He hadn't gambled since he married but apparently, as a youngster, he got into big trouble. Cards, horses, the dogs, you name it. He told me his father was the same. Said it was in his blood, but that's a cop-out, if you ask me! Anyway, his mother knew all about it, as you might imagine. She never really trusted him, and when she died she left the farm to Anthony instead of Tom. She was a shrewd woman.'

  `So Tom lost money to Slade, kept going back to try and recover his losses, and ended up in over his head?' Gideon suggested.

  Rosetti nodded. `That's about it. Slade let him win at first, of course. It's the old story. But what it comes down to is that the stallion was the only thing of value that Tom really owned for himself. He couldn't mortgage the farm because it wasn't his. He couldn't even sell off stock because there was hardly any market for British beef. So he decided to sell a third share of the horse to me. I'd already said I'd be interested as an investment, as I was still building the hospital at that time. So Tom offered the money I gave him to Slade as a down payment, with the promise that as the stud fees started to come in he'd pay back the rest plus the interest. Unfortunately he put his case rather too well. Slade said he'd waive the debt in return for a third share in Sox.'

  `But over the years that would amount to a small fortune,' Gideon protested.

  `Yes, but as you probably know, Slade isn't a man to be troubled by his conscience and Tom was in no position to argue. He'd already been turned down by his bank manager, who felt there were just too many potential pitfalls involved in using a projected stud career as security for a loan. As it happened,' he went on, shaking his head ruefully, `he was only too right.'

  `Sox was infertile,' Gideon stated.

  Rosetti nodded once more. `You do know, then. Who told you?'

  `Nobody, actually. When I'd worked out the rest it was the only answer. But presumably you didn't find out yourself until it was too late?'

  `No, more's the pity. You see, he'd sired one or two foals before, while he was competing, and the accident didn't directly affect his reproductive equipment. It simply never occurred to either of us that he wasn't as virile as ever. It wasn't until he covered half a dozen mares in the late-summer after his recovery and only one of them scanned in foal that we began to suspect all was not right. We can only think that somewhere along the way he must have picked up an infection that left him all but infertile. It's the only answer.'

  `So what happened then? How on earth did you come up with such a crazy idea?'

  `It was my fault,' Rosetti admitted. `And you're right - it was crazy. That's just it. It was meant as a joke, nothing more. Tom was in a dreadful state about having to tell Slade the bad news, so I said I'd go along with him to add my professional weight, as it were. I'd not met Slade at that point, and although I could see that Tom was pretty rattled by him, I didn't know what a bastard he could be.' He almost spat the last few words and Gideon could sympathise with him.

  `I wish I'd never gone,' the vet went on bitterly. `Oh, he was charming enough on the surface but it was obvious he didn't believe us at first when we told him that his investment wasn't going to bring any rewards. I think he thought we were trying to trick him. I had to show him the actual lab report before he'd accept it. Then he turned nasty. Not loud or violent but sort of icy-cold. He said Tom would have to find some way to pay what he owed because he was through waiting.

  `I suppose I was trying to lighten the atmosphere, I don't know, because then I said something really stupid. I said, "It's a shame we're not using AI, artificial insemination that is, because then we could use old Sovereign to service the mares."'

  `As a joke,' Gideon put in.

  `Of course as a joke,' Rosetti asserted with a touch of irritation.

  `Tom knew that - though he wasn't in much of a mood for laughing - but Slade, God damn him, he took me seriously. "Why can't we?" he asked. I tried to tell him I'd been joking, and that it would be completely unethical to do any such thing, but he waved it all aside. He wanted to know if it was technically possible. I could only say yes, technically, but that it was totally unfeasible. I told him Sovereign was a heavy horse and completely different in every way from Sox. The first crop of foals would find the deception out. Slade just said, "Another stallion then?"

  `Tom was keeping very quiet, so I tried to get him to back me up but then he came out with the information that Sox had a full brother! I couldn't believe it! It was like a nightmare. And of course, that was it. Slade had the whole thing planned within the hour. He's a bastard but he's a very clever bastard, I'll give him that.'

  `They couldn't have done it without you, though,' Gideon pointed out. `You were the one with the know-how and the equipment. You could have said no.'

  `Yes, I could have,' Rosetti said, gazing at his hands that were systematically squeezing and releasing his plastic cup so that what was left of the contents rose to the brink and fell again, over and over. Suddenly he looked up at Gideon.

  `Have you ever had a dream?' he asked, his black gaze intense. `Have you ever wanted something so much that it becomes all you live for; so you feel it's what you were put on this earth to do?' His eyes held Gideo
n's for a moment and then the fire in them ebbed and died. `No, I don't suppose you have. It's probably the fault of my ancestry. We're an emotional race, don't have the fabled English reserve.'

  `My father's a visionary,' Gideon said mildly. `He's followed his passion all over the world. I seem to have inherited my mother's phlegmatic and entirely unambitious nature.'

  Rosetti smiled briefly. `Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. It's just that this hospital was half-built, half-converted perhaps I should say, and I was running out of money. I got a last-ditch loan from the bank to pay for my share of the stallion because I knew I was helping Tom out of a jam and because the returns for me should have been enough to finish this off. Oh, I know I should have done a sperm-count on Sox before I paid out but, as I said, he'd sired foals before. The silly thing was, if it had been anyone else, I would have insisted on it. As it was,' he finished sadly, `I was left facing ruin and the end of my dream.'

  `So you decided to go along with Slade's plan.'

  `No. Not at first. I thought it was crazy and said so, but Slade had got the bit between his teeth and before long he'd convinced Tom it was possible. Between them they badgered me until I said I'd think about it. I swear, I still didn't think anything would come of it. I thought when the others cooled down they'd realise how impossible, and in Tom's case how wrong, it was.'

  `But they didn't.'

  Rosetti shook his head. `To be honest, I think Slade saw it as a challenge. I don't think the money Tom owed him was the issue at all. Looking back, I think the more I tried to say it couldn't, and shouldn't, be done, the more determined Slade became to do it. And Tom was so desperate I think he'd have tried anything to get out of the fix he was in. Also . . .'

  `Also?' Gideon waited.

  Rosetti hesitated, looking down at his hands. `I'm not sure if Slade ever actually threatened Tom or his family. He's certainly done so to me. Though never in so many words.'

  `To get you to go along with his scheme?'

  `Yes, and to stop me pulling out of it, many times since. You see, it was only ever supposed to be for one year. Just long enough to cover our debts - well, the most pressing of mine anyway - and then we agreed we'd declare Sox infertile as the result of some mystery virus and retire him.'

  `And what about Cathy and Daisy?' Gideon demanded. 'Slade may have implied harm if you crossed him but didn't you think about what would happen to them if you were caught, as, God knows, you were likely to be?'

  Rosetti looked Gideon straight in the eye. `I thought about it every minute of every day,' he said. `Daisy wasn't even born then, of course. Cathy had just about a month to go. If I'd known how that child would make me feel, I'd never have risked what I did. Bad enough to let Cathy down, but my little girl? Never!' He checked himself, perhaps remembering with a spasm of mental anguish what Gideon's presence meant. `Not until now anyway.'

  `So how exactly did you pull it ofl?' Gideon asked, repressing instinctive sympathy. `How on earth did you manage to "borrow" Whitewings for a night? Several nights, I imagine. This year wasn't the first time, was it? I saw a copper-coloured yearling the other day, supposedly sired by the great Popsox. Was Winters, the groom, in on it?'

  'No. He knows nothing about it. We couldn't keep Wings for more than a few hours without him being missed, so we've had to collect from him every year; that's three times now. Honest to God, it was only ever supposed to be once, believe me!'

  Gideon ignored this impassioned plea. `Tell me about it? How many mares can you serve from one collection? I gather you can freeze the semen. How long will it keep?'

  `It'll keep indefinitely. That's what made it possible. The usual method, using chilled semen, wouldn't have worked for us, as it can only be kept for two or three days, and obviously we couldn't have forty-odd mares at the stud at one time, even supposing they were all conveniently in season at once - which is ridiculous. We had to make it look as though Sox was serving mares naturally throughout a normal breeding season, so we needed to be able to store the semen until it was needed.'

  `And you can collect all the necessary in one go?'

  `One collection will normally cover between five and thirty mares, depending on the fertility of the stallion. We managed to collect twice from Wings each time we had him. He was exceptional,' he added. `When did you guess that we were using AI?'

  'Not until this afternoon. Something Pippa said made me wonder but I had to ring Anthony to be sure. I didn't know much about it myself.'

  `Does Anthony know about all this?' Rosetti looked haunted, and Gideon could almost feel sorry for him.

  `Not yet,' he said. `He told me that freezing is a method that's used all the time with cattle but he said not all stallions are suitable.' The vet nodded. `That's quite true. It was my last hope - that Whitewings' sperm-count would be too low or his semen prove too fragile for freezing. You're bound to lose a percentage of fertility during the process and with many stallions it just isn't viable.'

  But Wings was just fine.'

  `He was excellent,' Rosetti stated bitterly. `One of the best, if not the best, that I've ever dealt with.'

  `What's the advantage?' Gideon asked. `Normally, I mean. Why not stick with the natural method? It must be cheaper.' `Yes, it is much cheaper but AI, especially using frozen semen, makes it possible to breed from horses in circumstances that preclude conventional methods. Competition horses that can't afford the time off to stand at stud, for instance, or show horses and ponies whose bloodlines are sought after abroad. And, even more exciting, it can be used to extend the careers of famous sires of all sorts who are approaching retirement. Some mares are even now in foal to stallions that have been dead for several years.' Rosetti's eyes shone with the fervour of the trailblazer.

  `Pippa says you can't use it for thoroughbreds. Something to do with Weatherbys.'

  `That's right. Not racehorses registered with Weatherbys. It is used on thoroughbreds, of course. Eventers and other competition horses.'

  `So, what if someone had wanted their foal paternity-tested? What would have happened then? Or is a full brother a close enough match?'

  `No.' Rosetti shook his head. `Full brother or not, it would show on a paternity test.'

  `So you took a bloody big risk, then.'

  `Not really. People brought their mares to Sox, most of them wanted to meet him, some even saw him at work, and in due time the mares produced foals that bore all the hallmarks of their famous sire. Why should anyone suspect?'

  Gideon regarded the vet for a long moment then shook his head. `It's a dirty trick.'

  `I'm not proud of myself,' Rosetti replied quietly.

  `So where did you take it to be frozen? Presumably it's quite a tricky procedure. You couldn't use the normal channels, surely? Questions would be asked.'

  `They would,' Rosetti agreed. `No, I have the equipment here. It's not as complicated as you might think.'

  `In the hospital?'

  `No.' He looked a little sheepish. `The hospital wasn't finished when we started this, remember? As a matter of fact, it's in my wine cellar.'

  `Ah.' Gideon remembered Giles' bewilderment when he'd described some of the vet's winemaking equipment to him. `Of course. No wonder you were upset when I went down to fetch Daisy back.'

  `It gave me quite a shock,' Rosetti admitted. `Until I reminded myself that you couldn't possibly know what was going on.'

  `If Winters wasn't in on it, how on earth did you spirit Wings away without being heard? His flat's over the tack room, and that stallion wouldn't be the easiest to sneak out quietly.'

  'We tried to buy the horse at first, under an assumed name, of course. We planned to keep him at stud separately from Sox and collect from him as necessary, but Ms Wainman wasn't interested in selling. I hoped that would be an end to it but no, not a chance! Slade found out, don't ask me how, that Winters has a serious weakness for the demon drink. He also discovered that the entire Wainman family were in the habit of taking a skiing holiday for two weeks every Febr
uary. Having discounted the idea of bribery - it seemed to be generally held that Mick Winters is as honest as the day is long - the next step, to Slade, was obvious.'

  Join him in his favourite watering hole,' Gideon said slowly. `Encourage him to overindulge and then . . .'

  `And then do the decent thing by escorting him back to his flat and laying him on his bed to sleep it off. Slade made sure of it by getting his man to slip a little something extra into his drink. Winters would have woken up in the morning with a heavy head and absolutely no idea that his prize charge had been missing for half the night. Slade arranged it all and it went like clockwork.'

  `But not this time.'

  `No. This time it all went pear-shaped. The horse, who's never been easy to handle, was almost unmanageable. Stephanie Wainman has neither the know-how nor the instinct to deal with a stallion, and he's never been taught manners, but this time there was something else. He wasn't just awkward, he was really fighting us.'

  `He's got a problem with his mouth,' Gideon put in. `I think he's in a lot of pain.'

  `I was beginning to think it must be something like that but Stephanie hasn't called me in, so what could I do?'

  `Well, consider yourself called now. I said I'd speak to you about it. Is it likely to be teeth, at his age?'

  `I'd need to X-ray him but it could be what we call a bone sequestrum,' the vet said, thoughtfully. `That is, a small piece or splinter of bone that's separated from the main - in this case jaw - as the result of a knock or injury. It can be extremely sore, and if it happened to be just where the bit lies in his mouth you could hardly blame him for kicking up a fuss, poor sod!'

  `So, this time he went ape?' Gideon prompted.

  `Yeah, and to top it off, Slade was getting cocky. I think he was becoming bored with the whole thing. Anyway, he didn't wait to hear from his man that Winters was safely taken care of and, as luck would have it, the groom didn't go to the pub that night. He