Read Flaxmead Page 22

CHAPTER TWENTY

  Graham Harpers predictions were correct, the Harper and Fields properties had become hectic. The normal laid back country rigours of life had been shattered by a never ending bombardment of phone calls and unscheduled visits from the media to well wishers. The only place Dylan and Anna were not hounded for pictures and comment was school, the children actually enjoyed it and remained oblivious to the attention but Bob Fields and Graham Harper had seriously discussed alternate stabling for Flaxmead but where. All attention appeared to be above boards but what if one wasn't. Little Lindy Cumberland was as busy as a one legged person in a bum kicking competition since her rocket to fame and with her head spinning she tried to work out what had happened. What kept her sane was the secret booking to ride Flaxmead at Muswellbrook races in a week's time.

  The local police had become involved with a visit from resident sergeant Trevor Plod. Good old Trev was concerned about an accident on the roadway adjacent to the Harpers with statements revealing interest in Flaxmead had been a contributing factor slowing vehicles and distracting attention. Sergeant Plods superiors parked in a high rise office in Sydney were sure that a report in triplicate on white pink and green carbon forms scribed with an immediate plan and sent straight to them for filing would eliminate the problem. Luckily Trevor Plod a real policeman born local and member of the community found out the worst times traffic was present then patrolled the area parking outside the Harpers on the road. He didn't mention this on his white green and pink forms as his superiors required the forms immediately prior to his discussion with Graham Harper and Bob Fields that hatched a plan between the three delivering gradual results. The forms were filed in Sydney in a building that held more paper than an Amazon rain forest. The risk of further accidents diminished with efforts from the three persons involved on the front line. Trev's superiors in Sydney were sure the white green and pink papers contained the key to fixing predicaments of similar kind although they contained no facts about what had really happened. These loose links in communication were often discussed by politicians in Canberra by debate and question time but were frequently held up by lack of, or reliable and consistent data. Trev had found to get anything done he had to be a member of the secret squirrel club and had risked being transferred to the far side of the moon on occasions to deliver policing in the community.

  Bob Fields trundled off to work as usual following the same pattern of behaviour he had done for years a marked difference lately was opening the locked gate to his property. Every morning it reminded him of a changing existence. He knew this morning would be different as the race form for the coming week had been released. As the morning progressed his assumptions were correct, the car park to Loudbark was full and his phone and mobile rang constantly. Bob Fields never shielded calls it may be a new prospective client looking for information nor did he dismiss appointments when requested and it took some hours before things settled down.

  Blake had also had some interesting information with a phone call in the middle of the night from Wilson Hornswaddle and Bartholomew Fothrington. They often had no concept of time zones as they powered around the planet in their jet aircraft. The eccentric pair had sold a swag of wine in Ireland and whilst there visited a horse stud at Kildare near Dublin. The now well known finders of thoroughbreds with form were openly invited and show around the sparkling enterprise. They often spoke to the ground base front line people with surprising results and were often heard saying "I didn't know that," or even more often. "If only I had known that." They were approached about Flaxmead by a young man with a broad Irish accent whom occasionally used Australian slang. He was a strapper and had worked in several countries for the international stud. He mentioned the dashing stallion and its recent win claiming to have been present when the horse was conceived in Australia. The two eccentrics said nothing and listened with interest. The young man stated he was present in the Hunter Valley some five year's ago during a wild bushfire and part of the stud complex caught fire. Horses had to be taken from the stable complex and yarded away from danger one being a top mare on heat ready for service the next day. Whilst fighting the fire with other staff members he noticed stallions yarded next to the mare had broken through the fence in the mayhem and one was mounted on the mare. He quickly tended the yard but was to late the mounted stallion had made good. He again separated the mare and in the process the stallions broke loose in the kayos. The stallion responsible for the deed a thoroughbred with no form stabled for a local customer had unfortunately run into the fire and perished. A statement was made to police in which listed the eye witness accounts as the owners of the deceased horse were heartbroken. He was then given the task of tending to horses that were sent to Ireland after the fire as they had no room left the place decimated by the fire. He then looked after the mare when arriving in Ireland the mare giving birth to a big black stallion foal. He remembered the big black foal with perfect white markings that was cast to one side to big and poor unproven bloodline on the sire side and long stringy legs. He personally felt the horse was a champion, there was just something about the little fella that was inspirational. He had been in contact with friends in Australia and heard the rumours of the record breaking Flaxmead's background and asked if the flamboyant pair could give him an answer. The horses age was correct, the markings and size perfect and the manner of the horse identical to what he had witnessed. He knew the horse was from the UK confirmed by his friends in Australia and was sure the horse was sold to the UK as he regally talked with local horse buff William McPherson in the local pub. The man had been instrumental in putting the horse in the hands of McPherson knowing it would go to his children as a pet and he then mentioned a Mr Blake buyer of the lumbering black foal for an extravagant some of five thousand pounds when he had only asked fifty. The man then revealed his reason for asking, he wished to find and thank Mr Blake for his generous payment to McPherson a struggling family local and devoted friend. Mr McPherson had paid off his debts and was doing well.

  At this point the eccentric pair said nothing to attract attention profoundly convinced the man was correct not from the conceptual knowledge of the horse but by the descriptive character move of Blake in payment for Flaxmead. They took the gentleman's particulars asked him to call them should he ever need a job and passed the information onto Blake immediately. Blake was most appreciative even though it was two minutes past three in the morning.

  The young man and McPherson had a surprise when they attended their local pub of a Friday night as they had done like clockwork for years. The publican informed them that of a Friday every Friday between six and eight pm they could drink the finest Irish whisky their favourite choice on demand for no charge at all. It was made clear should they attempt to find the benefactor of the gesture it would immediately cease. Wilson Hornswaddle and Bartholomew Fothrington had found these men to have invaluable information and ability in the horse industry. They now knew exactly where they could be found every Friday.

  Blake had a hastily requested meeting with Shangri La group sales manager, he informed Blake that the wine currently being sold by the eccentric sales team in Ireland and other locations on the planet was causing a few problems. They did not posses the wine quantities sold by Wilson Hornswaddle and Bartholomew Fothrington. To supply such quantities of elite wine would require assistance from neighbouring growers as the sold wines were unique. The sales manager was also confused about the payment methods for the stock, the money passing thorough different currencies and administration process's prior to being deposited in Shangri La accounts. The wine had also been sold at a premium price boosting profit margins for the year by a considerable percentage, he was overall confused.

  Blake explained that the payment method was to confuse market watchers selling information to other producers whom could then rally sales staff and management to counter measures such as issues of quality. The French appeared to be very good at this being in the market place for so long they knew everyone and get
ting a foot in the door was nearly impossible when they used such tactics. Buyers were not game enough to tread heavily in case the back scratching operation fell apart loosing their well know brand names to alternate sales outlets. He further explained Hornswaddle and Fothrington had come in thorough the back door with a bottle of wine under their arm to affluent drinkers with influence amongst distribution management structures. By the time market watchers or anyone else worked out what was going on Shangri La wines would be on the self and in the hands of consumers previously out of reach. It would then be in the hands of the consumer and not the distributor that governed direction and Blake had the utmost faith in Shangri La products.

  This was working fine but how would Blake acquire the quantities of high grade wine now required. Most were unique to the soil and conditions of Shangri La in the Hunter Valley. Blake was impressed with neighbour Loudbark. He knew from explained history by staff they had been at loggerheads with Shangri La both family companies spanning many years of arms length feuding mainly caused by fluctuating demand in years of world financial hardship. There was an alternate issue he wished to test the water over as well, this incident gave him a tool to pay Loudbark an unannounced visit.