I spent four nights in New York before I found Malcolm; or before he found me, to be more precise.
In daily consultations, the Stamford voice assured me that 1 wasn’t forgotten, that the message would one day get through. I had a vision of native bearers beating through jungles, but it wasn’t like that, it transpired. Malcolm and Ramsey had simply been moving from horse farm to horse farm through deepest Kentucky, and it was from there he finally phoned at eight-ten in the morning.
‘What are you doing in New York?’ he demanded.
‘Looking at skyscrapers,’ I said.
I thought we were meeting in California.’
‘Well, we are,’ I said. ‘When?’
‘What’s today?’
‘Friday.’
‘Hang on.’
I heard him talking in the background, then he returned. ‘We’re just going out to see some horses breeze. Ramsey reserved the rooms from tomorrow through Saturday at the Beverly Wilshire, he says, but he and I are going to spend a few more days here now. You go to California tomorrow and I’ll join you, say, on Wednesday.’
‘Couldn’t you please make it sooner? I do need to talk to you.’
‘Did you find something out?’ His voice suddenly changed gear, as if he’d remembered almost with shock the world of terrors he’d left behind.
‘A few things.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Not on the telephone. Not in a hurry. Go and see the horses breeze and meet me tomorrow.’ I paused. ‘There are horses in California. Thousands of them.’
He was quiet for a few moments, then he said, i owe it to you. I’ll be there,’ and disconnected.
I arranged my air ticket and spent the rest of the day as I’d spent all the others in New York, wandering around, filling eyes and ears with the city… thinking painful private thoughts and coming to dreadful conclusions.
Malcolm kept his word and, to my relief, came without Ramsey who had decided Stamford needed him if Connecticut were to survive. Ramsey, Malcolm said, would be over on Wednesday, we would allhave three days at the races and go to Australia on Saturday night.
He was crackling with energy, the eyes intensely blue. He and Ramsey had bought four more horses in partnership, he said in the first three minutes, and were joining a syndicate to own some others down under.
A forest fire out of control, I thought, and had sympathy for my poor brothers.
The Beverly Wilshire gave us a suite with brilliant red flocked wallpaper in the sitting-room and vivid pink and orange flowers on a turquoise background in the bedrooms. There were ornate crimson curtains, filmy cream inner curtains, a suspicion of lace, an air of Edwardian roguishness brought up to date. Rooms to laugh in, I thought. And with little wrought-iron balconies outside the bowed windows looking down on a pool with a fountain and gardens and orange trees, not much to complain of.
We dined downstairs in a bar that had tables at one end and music, and Malcolm said I looked thinner.
‘Tell me about the horses,’ I said; and heard about them through the smoked salmon, the salad, the veal and the coffee.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said, near the beginning. ‘They’re not all as expensive as Blue Clancy and Chrysos. We got all four for under a million dollars, total, and they’re two-year-olds ready to run. Good breeding; the best. One’s by Alydar, even.’
I listened, amused and impressed. He knew the breeding of all his purchases back three generations, and phrases like ‘won a stakes race’ and ‘his dam’s already produced Group I winners’ came off his tongue as if he’d been saying them all his life.
‘Do you mind if I ask you something?’ I said eventually.
‘I won’t know until you ask.’
‘No… urn… just how rich are you?’
He laughed. ‘Did Joyce put you up to that question?’
‘No. I wanted to know for myself.’
‘Hm.’ He thought. ‘I can’t tell you to the nearest million. It changes every day. At a rough estimate, about a hundred million pounds. It would grow now of its own accord at the rate of five million a year if I never lifted a finger again, but you know me, that would be boring, I’d be dead in a month.’
‘After tax?’ I said.
‘Sure.’ He smiled. ‘Capital gains tax usually. I’ve spent a year’s investment income after tax on the horses, that’s all. Not as much asthat on all those other projects that the family were going bananas about. I’m not raving mad. There’ll be plenty for everyone when I pop off. More than there is now. I