Arthur Upfield - Venom House

“Terrible, those murders,” exclaimed the woman. “We hope you stop them, Inspector. Always knew something awful would come out of Venom House.”

“Venom House?” encouraged Bony.

That’s whatus locals call the Answerth place. You’ll be seeing it, Inspector. And Answerth’s Folly what’s all round it. Unnatural place, and queer people, the Answerths. And don’t you go and say anything about what I said. That Mary Answerth’s a real terror, and we don’t want her over here abusing us.”

“I wouldn’t mention it,” Bony assured her. “As you say, I shall be calling on the Misses Answerth.”

Mike Falla dropped the cigarette butt into the dust and retrieved it as though a treasure. He chuckled dryly, saying they would have to be going, and motioned the passenger to take his seat. He climbed in behind the enormous wheel, and then leaned far out to supervise the little girl who juggled with the chock. Expertly she dragged it free without being run over when the car slid down the bank. There was a violent jerk when the engine crashed into power. Bony waved good-bye to the woman and child, and prepared for his act when the car reached the road gate. They said nothing, prior to the performance, and afterwards, when Bony, winded by exertion, settled again, he asked:

“How long have you had this run?”

“Nine monse. Started the first of January. No one else put in for the contract, so I got it. She paysgood, too.”

“It should do… on the capital outlay.”

“Aw! Fair go, Inspector. Bloke gotta start sometime, some’ow. The old man went crook ’cos I left the farm, but he camegood when I got the contract. Gimme his car.”

“Did it have any brakes?”

“Too right, she did. But a front wheel came off her and she ended up against a tree and caught fire. Had to buy this one, and it put me back, but I’m coming good slow-like. One day I’ll have enough dough to buy a bus. Y’see, once the electric power comes to Edison the town’s bound to grow. People will want to come to our beach. What with the electric power and a good road, well, I’ll be on the up and up and able to run a fleet of buses.”

The cigarette which had accompanied the wide mouth all the way from Manton danced again. Bony watched it with interest, and this time he studied Falla’s face and found character.

“Edward Carlow,” he prompted. “Been long in the district?”

“Yair, born there… near Edison. His old man had a farm. Never didno good. When he died, the farm wastook off the Carlows. Mrs Carlow had nothing but what she stood up in, and Ed was sick of working for his old man what usta booze all they made. There’s young Alf, too. Him and me went to school same time.

“When old Carlow pegged out, Ed started a butcherin’ business in Edison. Got helped, they say, by Miss Janet Answerth. As there wasn’tno butcher’s shop before, Ed came good. Some say he come good too fast for proper tradin’. Might be something to it. In no time Ed bought a new delivery van. Used it to bring the carcases from the slaughter yard they built out of town. Got more’n a bit flash as time went on. Bought a nice house in Edison and give it to his mother. Me old man said he wasn’t surprised when Ed ended up in Answerth’s Folly.”

Abruptly the track turned away from the valley and snaked upward among the hills. The service car roared along the defile created by the jealous forest, and Mike concentrated on his work. Presently he said:

“Me old man usta tell me: if ever yourobs a bank, Mike, be sure to plant the dough and don’t spend none of it for five years. People is terrible suspicious these days. If youbuys a new shirt, they wonders where you got the money. You keep your eyes on our stock, Mike. A butcher who don’t have to pay for a carcase of meat makes a hell of a good profit in his shop.”

“Did Edward Carlow ever fall into trouble?” asked Bony.

“Not him. Ed was too wise to slip up on anything.”

“And yet he was found drowned in Answerth’s Folly.”

“That’s where he ended up. Still, old Mrs Answerth wasn’t flash. She ended up the same way. Anyhow, it seems that Ed ending up like that was a good thing for his mother and young Alfie. Mrs Carlow now manages the shop, and Alfie helps her. A farmer close by does the slaughterin’ for ’em.”

The track became steep, rounding bend after sharp bend, beyond ten yards each bend a blind one. Rounding a bend, they found a horse standing squarely on the track. The animal made to leap into the forest, slipped and sat down. Mike yelled and barely managed to steer his vehicle past the horse’s tail. And then when rounding the hundred and first bend they saw standing squarely on the track a giant of a man wearing skin-tight moleskin trousers tucked into short leggings and a blue shirt. Just off the track was his saddled horse.

So steep was the rise that the engine was not overstrained to brake the car to a stop. Mike clambered out, and the big man joined him.

“Gud-dee, Henery!” shouted the driver.

“Gud-dee!” responded the giant. “You bring out that cross-cut, Mike?”

“Yair. Roberts said they had them wedges you ordered, so I fetched ’em, too. Meet Inspector Bonaparte, come down from Bris to find who done the drownings.”

“Gud-dee, Inspector!” rumbled the giant. “Hope youhas more luck than the d-s what come down on the Carlow murder.”

“Thanks,” Bony returned, now thinking that on arrival at Edison he would surely be given a public reception.

Cross-cut and wedges, parcels of bread and meat, one letter and several newspapers were placed on the road. Mike accepted payment, having to raise the hem of his shirt to thrust it into a hip pocket. There were further “gud-dees”, and the horseman was left standing by his horse and cutting tobacco from a black plug with a knife like a cutlass.

“Bit of a character, Henery Foster,” Mike remarked.“Got his camp in the bush a mile and a bit off the track. Terrible good axeman. Cuts fence posts and sleepers for the railway. Does pretty well.”

The track began to fall away round the bends until it came to flat country where grew bigger trees and the scrub was thick and verdant.

“A bit further on is where they found Ed Carlow’s van,” Mike said. “It’s where three tracks junction at an old logging stage.”

Bony recalled the details of the sketch map attached to the Official Summary of the Carlow Murder Investigation, but to pursue the subject taken up by this nonchalant young man, he asked:

“About a mile from Answerth’s Folly, isn’t it?”

“Yair. Three mile to Edison. Seventeen and a bit to Manton. Can’t get what Ed Carlow was doing with his van at the logging stage. There was nothing on it when old Mawson found it.”

“You have been to Answerth’s Folly, I suppose?”

“Usta sneak a bit of fishin’ in it with the other kids,” replied Mike. After a prolonged chuckle, he added: “Had to keep wide of Miss Mary Answerth, though. She wouldn’t haveno one inside their fences.”

“Ever go to the house?”

“No, never. Water all round it. Leastways, water all round the sorta island it’s built on. There’s a causeway to the island, but the water covers it now. You can wade over the causeway if you know where the holes in it are.”

“The Answerths use a boat, of course?”

“Yair. But they keeps it locked to a tree stump this side, and don’t never use it unless specially. Theywades over the causeway. Funny lot, them Answerths.”

Shortly after giving that information, Mike Falla drove his service car into a large clearing. On the far sidewas a car and a station wagon. Beside the car stood a man and a woman. Compared with the woman, the man was puny.