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Master of the Game
Sidney Sheldon
One of Sidney Sheldon’s most popular and bestselling titles, published in ebook format for a new generation of fans.Kate Blackwell is one of the richest and most powerful women in the world. She is an enigma, a woman surrounded by a thousand unanswered questions. Her father was a diamond prospector who struck it rich beyond his wildest dreams. Her mother was the daughter of a crooked Afrikaaner merchant. Her conception was itself an act of hate-filled vengeance.At the extravagent celebrations of her ninetieth birthday, there are toasts from a Supreme Court Judge and a telegram from the White House. And for Kate there are ghosts, ghosts of absent friends and of enemies. Ghosts from a life of blackmail and murder. Ghosts from an empire spawned by naked ambition…Sidney Sheldon is one of the most popular storytellers in the world. This is one of his best-loved novels, a compulsively readable thriller, packed with suspense, intrigue and passion. It will recruit a new generation of fans to his writing.
SIDNEY SHELDON
MASTER OF THE GAME
COPYRIGHT (#ulink_fcb8389c-effd-52f1-a72d-838bbc17e8f8)
HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk/)
First published in Great Britain by Collins 1983
This edition published in 2010.
Copyright © Sheldon Literary Trust 1982
Sidney Sheldon asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication.
Source ISBN: 9780006472612
Ebook Edition © APRIL 2012 ISBN: 9780007370610
Version: 2016-03-17
DEDICATION (#ulink_65cb844b-71ea-5799-b2b0-b74ae5c4226a)
For my brother,Richardthe Lion-Hearted
EPIGRAPH (#ulink_403b8fb0-dabe-5191-b3f8-1b89ddfaafaa)
‘And hence one master-passion in the breast, Like Aaron’s serpent, swallows up the rest.’
– ALEXANDER POPE
Essay on Man, Epistle II
‘Diamonds resist blows to such an extent that an iron hammer may be split in two and even the anvil itself may be displaced. This invincible force, which defies Nature’s two most violent forces, iron and fire, can be broken by ram’s blood. But it must be steeped in blood that is fresh and warm and, even so, many blows are needed.’
– PLINY THE ELDER
CONTENTS
Title Page (#u4648ecf2-c8bc-5a78-9f3f-091989fbe30d)
Copyright (#ub506a8c6-c4b8-5af2-ae70-91555afce974)
Dedication (#uf576f8bc-1327-5c15-9154-98991e5b62be)
Epigraph (#u4b40710f-97d0-53b7-a4bc-0421c91c27bc)
Prologue (#u8373ec37-70bc-5bab-84e9-755c5481a0e2)
Part One (#ucc7906c0-8bbd-54d7-8d1d-9c5b750b51de)
Chapter One (#u91c8892e-9c2c-5402-9631-4e2f4712bbb2)
Chapter Two (#u3033f6b0-077b-5ee0-b1ba-a9add6f5bc2a)
Chapter Three (#u0ff753de-22c8-5a79-ba5e-7ab7dbf4c6a8)
Chapter Four (#u11d0d0ff-d5f4-5bf7-8813-b3d0760d8e7f)
Chapter Five (#ub27e61ee-9750-5e12-9a41-bcfbb81452ff)
Chapter Six (#ua7eb16e2-245e-5664-86cf-ee9f2c32a97e)
Chapter Seven (#ub871d00f-19d4-536c-b798-f207b242d0b3)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Part Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Part Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Part Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Part Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Keep Reading (#litres_trial_promo)
Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Books By Sidney Sheldon (#litres_trial_promo)
About The Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ulink_d4e202d8-314e-5716-94bf-b3cb2a97d9a7)
Kate
1982
The large ballroom was crowded with familiar ghosts come to help celebrate her birthday. Kate Blackwell watched them mingle with the flesh-and-blood people, and in her mind, the scene was a dreamlike fantasy as the visitors from another time and place glided around the dance floor with the unsuspecting guests in black tie and long, shimmering evening gowns. There were one hundred people at the party at Cedar Hill House, in Dark Harbor, Maine. Not counting the ghosts, Kate Blackwell thought wryly.
She was a slim petite woman, with a regal bearing that made her appear taller than she was. She had a face that one remembered. A proud bone structure, dawn-grey eyes and a stubborn chin, a blending of her Scottish and Dutch ancestors. She had fine, white hair that once had been a luxuriant black cascade, and against the gracefolds of her ivory velvet dress, her skin had the soft translucence old age sometimes brings.
I don’t feel ninety, Kate Blackwell thought. Where have all the years gone? She watched the dancing ghosts. They know. They were there. They were a part of those years, a part of my life. She saw Banda, his proud black face beaming. And there was her David, dear David, looking tall and young and handsome, the way he looked when she first fell in love with him, and he was smiling at her, and she thought, Soon, my darling, soon. And she wished David could have lived to know his great-grandson.
Kate’s eyes searched the large room until she saw him. He was standing near the orchestra, watching the musicians. He was a strikingly handsome boy, almost eight years old, fair-haired, dressed in a black velvet jacket and tartan trousers. Robert was a replica of his great-great-grandfather, Jamie McGregor, the man in the painting above the marble fireplace. As though sensing her eyes on him, Robert turned, and Kate beckoned him to her with a wave of her fingers, the perfect twenty-carat diamond her father had scooped up on a sandy beach almost a hundred years ago scintillating in the radiance of the crystal chandelier. Kate watched with pleasure as Robert threaded his way through the dancers.
I am the past, Kate thought. He is the future. My great-grandson will take over Kruger-Brent, Limited one day. He reached her side, and she made room for him on the seat beside her.
‘Are you having a nice birthday, Gran?’
‘Yes. Thank you, Robert.’
‘That’s a super orchestra. The conductor’s really bad.’
Kate looked at him in momentary confusion, then her brow cleared. ‘Ah. I presume that means he’s good.’
Robert grinned at her. ‘Right. You sure don’t seem ninety.’
Kate Blackwell laughed. ‘Just between the two of us, I don’t feel it.’
He slipped his hand in hers, and they sat there in a contented silence, the eighty-two-year difference between them giving them a comfortable affinity. Kate turned to watch her granddaughter dancing. She and her husband were without doubt the handsomest couple on the floor.
Robert’s mother saw her son and grandmother seated together and she thought, What an incredible woman. She’s ageless. No one would ever guess all she has lived through.
The music stopped, and the conductor said, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my pleasure to present young Master Robert.’
Robert squeezed his great-grandmother’s hand, stood up and walked over to the piano. He sat down, his face serious and intent, and then his fingers began to race across the keyboard. He played Scriabin, and it was like the rippling of moonlight on water.
His mother listened and thought, He’s a genius. He’ll grow up to be a great musician. He was no longer her baby. He was going to belong to the world. When Robert finished, the applause was enthusiastic and genuine.
