Life Imitating Art . . . Or Not

                                                                     Milton C. Toby photograph

By Milton C. Toby

A few months after European Horse of the Year Shergar was taken from the Aga Khan's Ballymany Stud near the Curragh Race Course in Ireland, an enterprising reporter from the Irish Press asked author Dick Francis about the theft. Francis was in Dublin promoting his 22nd novel, The Danger, which featured a private business that specialized in rescuing the victims of kidnappings. The protagonist of The Danger once worked for Lloyd's of London, the insurance company that held much of the insurance on Shergar, so there was a connection between the real and the fictional--tenuous but sufficient--to pique the newspaper's interest.

The reporter wondered if Francis, whose horse racing novels were best sellers around the world, had any insights about the theft of Shergar, a real-life mystery that would become the sport's most famous cold case.

"This book [The Danger] is about people, rather than horses, being kidnapped," Francis explained. "One of my other books, Blood Sport written in the '60s, was about a classic winner from England who is taken to America and kidnapped over there. I have been accused more than once of giving crooks ideas. I certainly hope I didn't give them the idea for what they have done with Shergar."

It was a brief interview that morphed into a promotional exercise for Francis's then-current book, and also for an older one. No real news there; not a surprise.

I've been a fan of Dick Francis for years. The reminder of a long-forgotten book that might have some bearing on my own research into the theft of Shergar encouraged me to track down and reread Blood Sport. Written in 1967, 16 years before the theft of Shergar, Blood Sport still is a good read--and an interesting lesson in the problem of reliable horse identification in the pre-DNA era.

There is no real question about whether Gene Hawkins will find the stolen stallion, Chrysalis. Hawkins is a Dick Francis hero, after all, and they tend to be very good at what they do. The book turns on the mechanics of the search and how Hawkins will prove that the horse he recovers, a nondescript bay with no distinctive markings, actually is Chrysalis. Hawkins makes his preliminary identification based on the horse's odd appetite for sardines but in the end he must rely on an in-person examination by the stallion's groom ("lad" for Anglophiles), who is flown to the States from England and driven across country to verify the horse's identity.

The Cross of St. Bridget, a patron saint of Ireland, watches over horses and riders at the Curragh Race Course.
A few hundred yards to the north of the Curragh, Shergar was taken from Ballymany Stud.
Copyright 2015 Milton C. Toby

"Sure I'd know him," Sam Kitchens tells Hawkins. "Maybe I couldn't pick him out of a herd, now, but I'd know him close to. The way his hide grows, and little nicks in his skin. I wouldn't have forgotten those." Kitchens makes the identification after Hawkins spirits the stallion away from the ranch where the horse thieves were holding him. Francis doesn't deal with what must be a problem, though, convincing stud book officials in two countries that the horse really is Chrysalis.

Unlike Chrysalis, Shergar never was recovered. The best evidence suggests that the horse was killed shortly after he was taken from Ballymany and the question of a positive identification never became an issue. In any case, just about anyone in Ireland would have recognized Shergar on sight and there was DNA analysis if needed. Bits of bone purported to be the remains of the horse still turn up at the Irish Equine Centre from time to time. So far, though, researchers there have been able to dismiss the claims without utilizing a DNA reference sample kept under lock and key.

Conventional wisdom points to members of the Irish Republican Army as masterminds for the theft of Shergar. No individual or organization has claimed responsibility, however, and the Irish police have not charged anyone. The disappearance of Shergar is a mystery worthy of Dick Francis.





 

 

Lessons Learned from Jack the Ripper

                                                                     Milton C. Toby photograph

 by Milton C. Toby

A few years ago, during a session with a prominent New York literary agent at a mystery writers' convention, I pitched an idea for a nonfiction book about the theft of the Thoroughbred stallion Shergar from a stud farm in Ireland. The incident drew international headlines at the time and stories still show up in the press occasionally, mostly when anniversaries of the theft roll around. The case never has been solved, at least not officially. For my money, the theft of Shergar remains Thoroughbred racing's most famous cold case, one deserving of a new look.

The agent's response was underwhelming.

"It might be an interesting magazine article," he said. "But it's not a book unless you find the horse."

That's not likely to happen. Shergar was a 5-year-old when he was stolen in 1983 and odds are that he was killed within days of the theft. In any event, the horse certainly is dead and buried now, and no one is talking. Claims that a bullet-riddled skull (turned out to be the skull of a cow) or other bits of bone dug up somewhere or other might be the long-lost remains of Shergar surface every now and then. So far, though, no luck.

I took the agent's advice, shifted my interest in Shergar to a back burner where it had been simmering for years, and moved on to an award-winning, three-book series about racing for The History Press. Working with The History Press was an excellent idea; taking the agent's advice about Shergar was not.

Now fast forward to Jack the Ripper.

I finished a lengthy book proposal in late 2014, investigating how performance enhancing drugs became embedded in racing's culture during the first half of the 20th Century, and found an agent to shop it around. So far, we haven't been able to convince publishers that the idea is not a niche book and that it has appeal beyond the typical small audience the industry expects for horse books. We'll see how that goes.

Recognizing Newmarket's centuries-old equine heritage
Copyright 2015 Milton C. Toby

Waiting for reluctant publishers to come to their senses, and with time on my hands due to some health issues, I revisited Shergar. I arranged a few interviews, enough to justify an initial fact-finding trip to Shergar's training yard in Newmarket, in London, and in County Kildare, Ireland. During our stay in London, on a rainy Monday evening, my wife and I joined about a dozen other people on a Jack the Ripper walk through Whitechapel. These walks visit several of the murder sites and are a significant cottage industry in London.

Our guide that night, Philip Hutchinson, is an author and a respected "Ripperologist" who investigates the mystery of Jack the Ripper. Although there are a batch of theories about the identity of the Ripper--some plausible, some not so much--no one knows for certain who went on a killing spree in 1888. Interest in Jack the Ripper remains high, nevertheless, and new books about the murders are published on a regular basis.

Hutchinson said that it wasn't realistic to expect a major breakthrough more than 125 years after the fact and explained that he hoped simply to uncover bits of information that might add a new dimension to the story of Jack the Ripper. Hutchinson and his fellow investigators either never received, or never paid any attention to, advice like that I received from the agent: "it's not a book" unless you solve the mystery.

Retracing the steps of Jack the Ripper on that rainy night in London brought to mind my original interest in Shergar from my days at Blood-Horse magazine and the goals for the trip and for my own investigative efforts. Absent a confession from someone directly involved in the theft, we probably never will know Shergar's fate. Despite that lack of certainty, I believe that there is a compelling story, one that has not been told, beyond the conventional wisdom that "the Irish Republic Army did it and they botched the job."

It's a story that I want to tell.

The agent's advice cost me some valuable ground when it comes to Shergar. Jack the Ripper reminded me that even the most well-intended advice sometimes should be ignored.

The dilemma for all of us, then, is how to sort out advice from an agent, a publisher, or a colleague, or suggestions about your work from a writing group. Any thoughts?





  

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Sefton's Story, or Why I Love Research

                                                                     Milton C. Toby photograph

by Milton C Toby

Writing often is a solitary chore, at least for me, especially with a deadline looming. Researching a book or magazine article, on the other hand, usually is an enjoyable exercise in fettering out minutia and finding links between seemingly unrelated  facts. But more about that later.

July 20 fell on a Tuesday in 1982.

That morning, as they did every morning at the same time, members of the Household Cavalry--Queen Elizabeth II's official bodyguards--were making their way from the regiment's barracks in Knightsbridge to the Horse Guards Parade. The horses and riders were en route to the popular Changing of the Guard ceremony. At 10:40 am, as the procession passed through Hyde Park, a massive nail bomb hidden in the trunk of a Morris Marina parked on a side street exploded.

Thirty pounds of nails were packed around 25 pounds of explosive and the damage wrought by the bomb was enormous. Four members of the Blues & Royals were killed by the blast, and a number of soldiers and civilians were injured. In addition to the human casualties, seven of the regiment's horses were killed.

Sefton, an Irish-bred draft cross which had served with the regiment for several years, suffered severe injuries, including a severed jugular vein and 34 other shrapnel wounds. Many of Sefton's wounds were life-threatening; after 90 minutes of emergency treatment and eight hours of surgery by a team of cavalry and civilian veterinarians the horse's chances of survival were estimated at 50-50. Major Noel Carding, Veterinary Officer of the Household Calvary, directed the emergency first aid for Sefton and the other injured horses. He was said to be the first British military veterinarian in more than a half-century to treat cavalry horses suffering with wartime injuries.

Sefton survived the bombing and eventually returned to duty with the regiment as a national hero. Donations in Sefton's name exceeded 600,000 pounds and were used to construct a surgical wing at the Royal Veterinary College. He was retired from military service in 1984 and spent the rest of his years at the Home of Rest for Horses. His rider, Michael Pedersen, also survived the bombing but ever after was plagued with post-traumatic stress disorder. He committed suicide in 2012 after killing his two children.

The Irish Republican Army claimed responsibility for the Hyde Park bombing, and for another bombing later in the day at Regent's Park that killed seven members of a military band from the Royal Green Jackets regiment. The attacks were low points in Irish-British relations during the "Troubles." Jonathan Irwin, a prominent Irish bloodstock agent and head of the Goffs Thoroughbred sales organization, was disgusted by the bombings.

"Common ground between Ireland
and England"
Copyright 2009 Milton C. Toby

"I thought it important that England should realize that many Irish people felt real horror at the incident," Irwin wrote in his autobiography, "Jack & Jill: The Story of Jonathan Irwin." He organized a fund-raising effort that raised 47,000 Irish pounds from private donors. The money was used to purchase six cavalry horses for the British military.

"Horses have always been a kind of common ground between Ireland and England," Irwin wrote, "and I thought this would be a quiet, but symbolic, way of joining hands across the sea."  

So what's the connection between Sefton and research?

I came across Sefton's story without actually looking for it. I was in Ireland a few weeks ago doing preliminary research for a book about Shergar, a Thoroughbred stallion that was stolen from an Irish stud farm owned by the Aga Khan in 1983. Conventional wisdom is that the horse was taken by the Irish Republican Army and held for ransom--he never was recovered and no ransom was paid--but I think the story is more complicated. I touched base with Jonathan Irwin in County Kildare, who I knew from my days at The Blood-Horse, which led me to his book, which led me to Sefton.

Looking for one story, I stumbled across another interesting one. And that's why I love research!