Arthur Upfield - Sinister Stones

“If he killed Jacky Musgrave, who was with ConstableStenhouse, why ask me all these questions about Jasper and Ezra?”

“Merely to find out just where your boss stockman was at the time bothStenhouse and his tracker were shot to death.”

“Then I think you should wait to ask your questions from the boys when they get home. Silas would know about him… Pat O’Grady. So would Jasper.”

Bony sighed as though trying to be patient. Actually, he was now keenly aware that he wasn’t dealing with an unsophisticated miss. Unknowledgeable in many things, this woman beside him could be an inarticulate iceberg or a flaring volcano, when threatened by anything affecting theBreens. That she knew nothing of the death of Jacky Musgrave, or of the death of ConstableStenhouse, he was morally certain, and almost certain that she believedStenhouse had been murdered by Jack Wallace.

“I’m a little worried about your brothers,” he said. “We think thedesert blacks are near us to seize and kill the second man they’re after. I repeat: we think they are near. The dogs are quiet, aren’t they? Suppose the wild men are not here. Suppose they are making their way northward. Suppose they believe their second victim is one of the men returning with Jasper and Ezra. Suppose they believe that the second man they want is Jasper or Ezra.”

Kimberley was silent for minutes before saying grimly:

“If you’re not trying to frighten me, then we must warn them. Pat O’Grady might have intended to do that when the wild blacks got him.”

“He might have left with that intention.” Bony’s voice became faintly stern. “For whom would the boss stockman leave the safety of this homestead to warn of danger from the desert blacks?”

“I don’t know. Stugger, it might be. Or Frypan,” she replied, faintly.

“Or Jasper! No! No, it couldn’t be Jasper. What are you saying? Jasper wouldn’t have killed Jacky Musgrave. Pat O’Grady wouldn’t have ridden north to warn Jasper. Or Ezra. Only to tell them that the wild blacks were afterStugger or Frypan or Stan, or Old Bugle who’s doing the horse-tailing.”

“Have you any idea where they will be camped tonight? They’ll be on the way home now, won’t they?”

“Yes. They should be camped at Salt Creek, thirty miles north of Camp Four. That’s if the Meat Works took the cattle in without delay.”

“You couldn’t contact a homestead by transceiver to send them a warning?”

“No. And the damned bloody truck is useless with a broken axle.”

Bony heard her abrupt movement, and a streaking meteor was bright enough to reveal her standing form. He remained seated, and soothingly he said:

“Don’t worry. Irwin and I will go north early tomorrow. I wonder whyStenhouse was interested in that shaft near Black Well.”

The other chair creaked, and he knew Kimberley had sat down again. He could hear her breathing, irregular and restrained. Presently she said, unevenly:

“Howd’you know ConstableStenhouse was interested in that shaft you tell of?”

“Because that is where he and Jacky Musgrave were shot.”

“But he was shot on the far side of the Range… on the Wyndham track.”

“He was shot at the shaft near Black Well. His body was carried over the Range by a party of four aborigines led by a white man.”

“A white man! Jack Wallace!”

In the dark of the veranda, Bony managed to roll a cigarette, or what served for one. Patiently he waited before striking a match, his confidence in the silent dogs supreme.

“You know, Miss Kimberley, the machinery of justice is a terrible thing,” he said, smoothly. “I am part of the machine, like Irwin, asStenhouse was. Someone commits a crime, and the machine of justice is set in motion. I’ve been a detective for many years, and I am still appalled by the almost frightening irresistible impetus of the machine once started. In this case, ConstableStenhouse was killed, and his tracker withhim, and the machine is put in motion and nothing will stop it until the killers are brought to the bar of justice, or death intervenes. Shooting me won’t stop the machine.”

He leaned forward and took the revolver from her. And in the darkness he heard her crying quietly. His voice was gentle:

“I know how it is… how one does jump to defend those one loves.”

The Cake in the Hat Box

FOLLOWINGAPROLONGEDINTERVAL, Kimberley Breen said, hopefully:

“I don’t think those wild blacks are mooning about. The dogs are too quiet.”

“It would be unlike them to attack in the dark, even if they did intend to storm the homestead,” Bony said in agreement. “Dawn is their customary zerohour. Irwin should be here in an hour or so.”

“Where was he camped?”

“On the Wyndham road whereStenhouse was found. He would have to drive south and take the track over the Range from Agar’s, would he not?”

“No. The shorter way would be up round McDonald’s Stand. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“I would, indeed,” Bony replied.“Provided it won’t be too much trouble.”

“It’ll be no bother. There’s a pressure stove in the living-room. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

She rose, and he stood with her. She felt the touch of metal against her hand, and he said:

“You may need it, although I think not.”

Saying nothing, she accepted the weapon and entered the house. Bony stood lazily leaning against a veranda post, and a dog came to muzzle the cuff of his trousers and whine a greeting. He felt no satisfaction with progress made in this investigation, no elation at approaching its climax, for the thought was clear that this girl whose background was so unusual was going to be badly hurt by events with which she had had no connexion.

TheseBreens reminded him of the termites who in their mysterious way live in darkness and to themselves, building a castle strong to withstand all enemy attack, and ever ready to die in defence of the community. An attack on one Breen meant an attack on the family, and the failure of a Breen was the failure of the family. And now Kimberley was hastening to defend the breach made in the House of Breen, and she did not know the extent of the damage and danger.

Standing there with the dog lying against a foot, Bony worked to correlate facts with dates and distances between points, having to keep in mind the speed of surface transportation in this chaotic land.

The interview with old medicine-man Bingil would have been exasperating to anyone unaccustomed to aborigines and unfamiliar with mentality which to the white man is seemingly unreachable. The wisp of information Bony did extract from Bingil was a creditable performance, and it would be naive to expect to gain more.

His mind came round again to Jack Wallace, and again he teased the facts into position relative to the important geographical points of this case. The trite phrase “East is east and west is west” bore down heavily when recalling that theWallaces lived east of Black Range and theBreens westward of it: and, when assessing what, if anything, Jack Wallace had to do with the killing ofStenhouse and his tracker, he had to recognize the acumen of those untamed savages from the far desert.

Their study of the site of the double killing, of the placing of a body under a dead horse, and their singular method of establishing the identity of the murderer, led them to believe that their quarry was on theBreens ’ side of Black Range.

There could be but two reasons prompting Jack Wallace to leave after learning what had happened to O’Grady. One, he was afraid he might be caught in a siege of the homestead and, two, that he determined to warn theBreens of a threat to them conjointly with himself. The journey north with Irwin in the morning would decide this point.