SIDNEY SHELDON
MASTER OF THE GAME
Copyright © 1982 by Sheldon Literary Trust
PROLOGUE
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-gray 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 graceful folds 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.
Earlier, dinner had been served outdoors. The large and formal garden had been
festively decorated with lanterns and ribbons and balloons. Musicians played from the
terrace while butlers and maids hovered over tables, silent and efficient, making sure the
Baccarat glasses and Limoges dishes were kept filled. A telegram was read from the
President of the United States. A Supreme Court justice toasted Kate.
The governor eulogized her. "... One of the most remarkable women in the history of this
nation. Kate Blackwell's endowments to hundreds of charitable causes around the world
are legendary. The Blackwell Foundation has contributed to the health and well-being of