'I don't care when she's coming back,' Jamie shouted. 'Get that child out of here. Now! Get rid of it!'
'How do you suggest I do that, Mr. McGregor?' she asked stiffly.
'Drop it off in town. There must be someplace you can leave it.' 'Where?'
'How the devil do I know!'
Mrs. Talley looked at the tiny bundle she was holding in her arms. The shouting had started the baby crying. 'There are no orphanages in Klipdrift.' She began to rock the baby in her arms, but the screams grew louder. 'Someone has to take care of him.'
Jamie ran his hands through his hair in frustration. 'Damn! All right,' he decided. 'You're the one who so generously took the baby. You take care of him.' 'Yes, sir.'
'And stop that unbearable wailing. Understand something, Mrs. Talley. I want it kept out of my sight. I don't want to know it's in this house. And when its mother picks it up next week, I don't want to see her. Is that clear?' The baby started up with renewed vigor. 'Perfectly, Mr. McGregor.' And Mrs. Talley hurried from the room.
Jamie McGregor sat alone in his den sipping a brandy and smoking a cigar. The stupid woman. The sight of her baby is supposed to melt my heart, make me go rushing to her and say, 'I love you. I love the baby. I want to marry you.' Well, he had not even bothered looking at the infant. It had nothing to do with him. He had not sired it out of love, or even lust. It had been sired out of vengeance. He would forever remember the look on Salomon van der Merwe's face when he had told him Margaret was pregnant. That was the beginning. The end was the dirt being thrown onto the wooden coffin. He must find Banda and let him know their mission was finished.
Jamie felt an emptiness. I need to set new goals, he thought. He was already wealthy beyond belief. He had acquired hundreds of acres of mineral land. He had bought it for the diamonds that might be found there, and had ended up owning gold, platinum and half a dozen other rare minerals. His bank held mortgages on half the properties in Klipdrift, and his land-holdings extended from the Namib to Cape Town. He felt a satisfaction in this, but it was not enough. He had asked his parents to come and join him, but they did not want to leave Scotland. His brothers and sister had married. Jamie sent large sums of money back to bis parents, and that gave him pleasure, but his life was at a plateau. A few years earlier it had consisted of exciting highs and lows. He had felt alive. He was alive when he and Banda sailed their raft through the reefs of the Sperrgebiet. He was alive crawling over the land mines through the desert sand. It seemed to Jamie that he had not been alive in a long time. He did not admit to himself that he was lonely.
He reached again for the decanter of brandy and saw that it was empty. He had either drunk more than he realized or Mrs. Talley was getting careless. Jamie rose from his chair, picked up the brandy snifter and wandered out to the butler's pantry where the liquor was kept. He was opening the bottle when he heard the cooing of an infant. It! Mrs. Talley must have the baby in her quarters, off the kitchen. She had obeyed his orders to the letter. He had neither seen nor heard the infant in the two days it had been trespassing in his home. Jamie could hear Mrs. Talley talking to it in the singsong tone that women used to talk to infants.
'You're a handsome little fellow, aren't you?' she was saying. 'You're just an angel. Yes, you are. An angel.'
The baby cooed again. Jamie walked over to Mrs. Taney's open bedroom door and looked inside. From somewhere the housekeeper had obtained a crib and the baby was lying in it. Mrs. Talley was leaning over him, and the infant's fist was tightly wrapped around her finger.
'You're a strong little devil, Jamie. You're going to grow up to be a big—' She broke off in surprise as she became aware of her employer standing in the doorway.
'Oh,' she said. 'I—is there something I can get for you, Mr. McGregor?'
'No.' He walked over to the crib. 'I was disturbed by the noise in here.' And Jamie took his first look at his son. The baby was bigger than he had expected, and well formed. He seemed to be smiling up at Jamie.
'Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. McGregor. He's really such a good baby. And healthy. Just give him your finger and feel how strong he is.'
Without a word, Jamie turned and walked out of the room.
Jamie McGregor had a staff of over fifty employees working on his various enterprises. There was not an employee from the mail boy to the highest executive who did not know how Kruger-Brent, Ltd., got its name, and they all took fierce pride in working for Jamie McGregor. He had recently hired David Blackwell, the sixteen-year-old son of one of his foremen, an American from Oregon who had come to South Africa looking for diamonds. When Blackwell's money ran out, Jamie had hired him to supervise one of the mines. The son went to work for the company one summer, and Jamie found him such a good worker that he offered him a permanent job. Young David Blackwell was intelligent and attractive and had initiative. Jamie knew he could also keep his mouth shut, which is why he chose him to run this particular errand.
'David, I want you to go to Mrs. Owens's boardinghouse. There's a woman living there named Margaret van der Merwe.'
If David Blackwell was familiar with the name or her circumstances, he gave no indication of it. 'Yes, sir.'
'You're to speak only to her. She left her baby with my housekeeper. Tell her I want her to pick it up today and get it out of my house.'
'Yes, Mr. McGregor.'
Half an hour later, David Blackwell returned. Jamie looked up from his desk.
'Sir, I'm afraid I couldn't do what you asked.'
Jamie rose to his feet. 'Why not?' he demanded. 'It was a simple enough job.'
'Miss van der Merwe wasn't there, sir.'
'Then find her.'
'She left Klipdrift two days ago. She's expected back in five days. If you'd like me to make further inquiries —'
'No.' That was the last thing Jamie wanted. 'Never mind. That's all, David.'
'Yes, sir.' The boy left the office.
Damn that woman! When she returned, she was going to have a surprise coming. She was going to get her baby back!
That evening, Jamie dined at home alone. He was having his brandy in the study when Mrs. Talley came in to discuss a household problem. In the middle of a sentence, she suddenly stopped to listen and said, 'Excuse me, Mr. McGregor. I hear Jamie crying.' And she hurried out of the room.
Jamie slammed down his brandy snifter, spilling the brandy. That goddamned baby! And she had the nerve to name him Jamie. He didn't look like a Jamie. He didn't look like anything.
Ten minutes later, Mrs. Talley returned to the study. She saw the spilled drink. 'Shall I get you another brandy?'
'That won't be necessary,' Jamie said coldly. 'What is necessary is that you remember who you're working for. I will not be interrupted because of that bastard. Is that quite clear, Mrs. Talley?'
'Yes, sir.'
'The sooner that infant you brought into this house is gone, the better it will be for all of us. Do you understand?'
Her lips tightened. 'Yes, sir. Is there anything else?'
'No.'
She turned to leave.
'Mrs. Talley ...'
'Yes, Mr. McGregor?'
'You said it was crying. It's not ill, is it?'
'No, sir. Just wet. He needed a change.'
Jamie found the idea revolting. 'That will be all.'
Jamie would have been furious had he been aware that the servants in the house spent hour upon hour discussing him and bis son. They all agreed that the master was behaving unreasonably, but they also knew that even to mention the subject would mean instant dismissal. Jamie McGregor was not a man who took kindly to advice from anyone.
The following evening Jamie had a late business meeting. He had made an investment in a new railroad. It was a small one, to be sure, running from his mines in the Namib Desert to De Aar, linking up with the Cape
