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“I wouldn’t know.” She smiled sweetly. “I wasn’t born when that happened, gov.”

“I was,” he said softly. “I remember it all. I was also around for the Gold Bullion Robbery.” He took a sharp breath. He had been about to say they had never caught the man nicknamed the Colonel, but he stopped himself, knowing he still could not prove his suspicions. But what a retirement bonus he would get if he could!

Two weeks before the race Rodgers asked Christina to be at the Derby. She tried to refuse, but he was insistent. Who would be better able to identify de Jersey than her? She did not want them to look too closely at her financial situation, so she agreed but did not tell her daughters. She looked over the invitations that had been sent to her and was touched by how many people had asked her to join them in their boxes. Until she had been contacted by the police, she had planned to refuse them all. Now she accepted one, saying how much she appreciated the hosts’ kindness in asking her and that she looked forward to seeing them.

The police operation was planned and outlined. They would have the racecourse covered with officers in plain clothes, mixing on the lower levels, wandering around the tick-tack men, hanging out in the oyster and champagne bars. They would be by the main Tote betting shop. They would even be up in the Royal balconies. They would be in the restaurants and private rooms. They would be, as Rodgers said, everywhere de Jersey might appear. They had installed several cameras at the finishing line, covering the winner’s enclosure, the owners’ and trainers’ sections in the stands, the bars, and the small helicopter landing pad. It was a massive operation to catch one man.

29

It was after one of de Jersey’s morning walks that the unexpected happened. The beautiful weather at the beginning of June had changed to a thick, muggy heat, and the constant rain made the house cold and damp. The sound of the sea crashing against the rocks below, which usually filled him with a sense of freedom, now got on his nerves. Checking the calendar, he saw that there were only days to go before the Derby. For the first time since he had been on the run, he felt the loss of his family, the life he used to lead, and was enveloped in a deep depression. For months he had been moving and under pressure, but now he felt listless and empty.

He found it difficult to raise his head. The tears that had never come before now trickled down his cheeks, but he made no move to wipe them away. He could hear Christina’s voice when she told him she had found the Koh-i-noor Diamond in his boot. He had already planned his departure by then, as he knew they were closing in, but he had not anticipated what losing her or his daughters would feel like. Slowly he got to his feet and walked to the window. The mist hung there like a dark gray blanket.

He had no notion of what had shaped him into the man he was, and he did not know why he had done what he had done. The only thing in his life that had held him was winning. The emotion he felt when he saw his horses pass the post first was exhilarating in a way that nothing else was. He began to pace up and down the room. He’d got away with it, he was free, he had won, he would win again. But this was not about money, not about what he had stashed beneath the floorboards, not about what he would get from selling Moreno’s house.

As he paced, the darkness lifted. He’d give anything just to glimpse his beloved Royal Flush again. The adrenaline pumped into his body like a bolt of electricity. Gone was the restriction that felt like a tight band around his brain, gone the depression, and his body tingled. He snorted out a strange, guttural laugh, because it truly felt as if he had the last laugh. De Jersey knew they would all be waiting for him at the Derby. He also knew that if he showed up he would be arrested within moments, but it amused him to think of the furor it would create. And Bandit Queen would be not his future but his last laugh-even more so if Royal Flush won the Derby. Her colt or filly would be unstoppable.

He longed to attend the Derby, to hear the massive crowd. As at no other race meeting, they were as integral a part of the day as the race itself: the gypsies and punters, the tick-tack men, the boxes, the women in their extravagant hats, the men in their toppers and tails, the smell of chips, cockles and mussels, the pop of champagne corks. He had been taken there as a kid by his dad, thronging on Gypsy Hill with their East End friends and their beer and their picnic hampers. He had never thought then that one day he would be on the other side, greeted by the Queen. He could hear his father weeping with joy, cap in hand, as the horse he’d bet his life savings on romped home. His father had sworn that he would never lay another bet, that with his winnings on the rank outsider he would open his first betting shop. He had been true to his word. But the one race Ronnie Jersey would not miss for the world was the Derby. Now, to own the odds-on favorite, to have trained him, and to know in his heart that nothing was going to stop that horse passing the post first hit de Jersey harder than he would have believed possible.

“How’s my lady?” came the familiar voice to the stable girl.

“Is this Mr. Shaughnessy?”

“It is, just calling to check on my girl,” he said, and she could almost feel his smile through the phone.

“Well, sir, I have to tell you she’s incredible. She eats like a Trojan, and she’s getting to be a fair size. We had the vet check her out, and she should be out of quarantine soon. He thinks the foal’s gonna be a whopper, but she’s a big mare, and he thinks there’ll be no complications, even though she’s got another four months to go.”

“But she’s not too big?” he asked, with concern.

“He says there’s no worries, and we had her scanned as you wanted.”

“I’ll come by this afternoon,” he said abruptly.

The staff at the quarantine stables were somewhat surprised by the tall, gaunt man in his old overcoat. He drove up in an equally decrepit Jeep, covered in mud. He wore thick boots and looked as if he’d not had a good meal for a while, but his manner didn’t match his appearance. He was authoritative when he asked to be left alone to view his mare.

The word went round that Shaughnessy was at the stables, and they watched as he entered the manager’s office. There was a lengthy conversation, after which Shaughnessy returned to his Jeep, and drove off. The manager walked out, shaking his head. “He wants the mare and the foal shipped back to England when it’s born.”

“Where’s he living? Is he local?”

“Says he’s leased a house on Gardiners Bay up in the Springs, but he’s going back to London.” He checked his watch. “He’s cutting it fine. He’ll only just make it. Says he’s going back for the Derby.”

The Derby always drew a massive crowd. The Royal Family’s own security was tight. Their Daimlers and Rolls-Royces drew up, and the occupants were ushered out and into the Royal Enclosure. Their boxes were hemmed in by security guards and police. The same amount of security would be present in all the car parks surrounding Epsom, and extra officials had been hired to check and double-check all the passes. All major parties hiring buses and other means of transport were to be checked out, as were the gates, though monitoring the thousands entering the track would be difficult.

The Queen had a horse running. It was the second favorite. The favorite, with days to go, was still Royal Flush. It was hardly ever mentioned that the horse was now owned by the Sheikh. It was always referred to as the Royal Thief’s Horse.

The bookies would have a field day if Royal Flush didn’t win. The punters were betting on him frantically, and the bookies had been asked by the police if they would tip off any single bet that might have been laid by de Jersey. They retorted that it was against the privacy laws to disclose a private gambler’s bets, and any card-carrying member of Ladbrokes or any member of any of the established betting brokers would adhere to the code. The police did, however, gain possible confirmation from the United States that any substantial-size bet placed on Royal Flush from that side of the ocean would be reported.