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CHAPTER TEN
Despite the afternoon's victory, Kelly's trip home was no more light-hearted than the morning's drive to Dapto.
Normally she would have been out of her mind with delight at having won a Grand Prix event, but somehow it didn't seem important any more. Although of course she was happy that there would be no more problem with Rasputin.
She stopped by the judge's place to deliver the good news. Only Arlene was at home, and Kelly found it difficult to respond to the kindly woman's avid questioning, particularly when she had to explain that Justin St John no longer objected to her riding Rasputin.
'So I'll take him home to Marian Park now, and return the judge's horse-float in the morning, if that's all right,' Kelly said. She hoped that her impatience to get on her way didn't show.
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'No need for you to return it, Kelly. Ezra wants you to take the float to your grandfather's place. He told me to tell you he wanted it there tonight. He said you weren't to go home without it. So that'll work out fine. He'll bring it back.'
Kelly wondered what the judge was doing with her grandfather. It wasn't chess night. But, rather than prolong the conversation, she shrugged the question aside and took her leave.
Even before she reached Marian Park, Kelly could not help but notice that very unusual activity was going on.
A helicopter was flying over the pastures with a strong searchlight beaming over the ground it covered. She wondered if someone was lost. It seemed highly unlikely, yet two police cars passed her and Kelly found that occurrence even more mystifying.
She was stopped at the entrance to the pine forest by a man who flashed a federal badge. 'Your business here, ma'am?'
'I'm returning a horse to the stables,' Kelly replied, then quickly asked, 'What's going on?' 'Were you here earlier this afternoon?' 'No, I've been at Dapto all day. Show-jumping.
What's wrong?' 'Not to worry, ma'am. Nothing to do with you.
Go ahead.'
The whole place was swarming with people. Even camouflaged SAS men with sub-machine guns! Kelly was left in no doubt that a search was going on. But for whom? Or what? Even when her presence was questioned again at the stables, no one would satisfy her curiosity. They actually checked her identity by walkie-talkie with someone at the house. And she noticed several army vehicles, as well as cars which were marked 'Federal Police'.
Whatever was happening was certainly out of the local league. But to be of national concern? Kelly's imagination boggled at the thought of spies or drugs or terrorists. Not at Marian Park! The mere idea was absurd. It could not be.
With Rasputin safely put away in his old stall for the night, Kelly hurried home, hoping that her grandfather could tell her something. Or Judge Moffat. His vehicle was parked near the veranda steps, and Kelly positioned her car so that the horse- float could be easily transferred to his.
Having achieved this awkward task, she raced into the house, eager to hear some answers from her grandfather. She headed straight for the kitchen where he and Judge Moffat invariably sat over the table when they weren't playing chess.
It was a huge country kitchen, but not so countrified that it was used to house animals. Kelly came to a dead halt when she saw who was occupying the floor space between the stove and the table.
There was no mistaking his identity. He stood there with the imperious air of an emperor of his breed, clothed in the finest fleece of the whole world, the distinctive curled horns adding their unique flair to the narrow, aristocratic face; the supreme sire-Octavian Augustus the Fourth!
Kelly no longer had to be told the reason for the furore up at Marian Park. Nor for whom the search was being made. Nor why it was in the national interest that Octavian Augustus the Fourth be found without there being the slightest whisper of publicity.
He was the greatest sheep sire in the world!
But what the prize ram was doing in her kitchen was a question that sent chills down Kelly's spine. She felt a rising surge of hysteria which had to be ruthlessly suppressed.
It took a concentrated effort to tear her eyes off the ram and look at her grandfather.
His expression was decidedly shifty.
She turned her gaze on Judge Moffat. His large, florid face was not as highly coloured as usual.
'Judge,' she whispered, 'you didn't do it.'
An air of guilt hung heavily over both men.
She dragged in a deep breath.
'Kelly…' her grandfather began softly. 'Things haven't worked out quite as we expected. We were only being patriotic! That's exactly how it was. Isn't it, Judge?'
