Arthur Upfield - The Devil_s Steps

Slowly, the party moved up the road towards the highway. Then Bisker straightened his body, stared about and saw Bony.

“Hey, Fred, the ruddy sun’sris. Blow theflamin ’ lamp out.”

“ ’Owd’youmean, the sun’sris?” demanded Fred.

“Yes, gentlemen, the sun has risen and we are far from home,” Bony said gravely.

Bisker shaded his eyes with a grimy hand.

“Cripes!” he said, and added nothing.

“They willbe wanting wood cut for the fires,” Bony went on. “Miss Jade is most anxious about you Bisker.”

“She would be,” Bisker agreed, with biting scorn.

“The old-”

“Fred, please. Miss Jade is not old.”

“Course sheain’t old,” swiftly asserted Bisker.“Friend of yours, Mr. Bonaparte?”

“A great friend, Bisker.”

“Then she’s a friend of mine. All yourfren’s are myfren’s. Come on, Fred. What you dawdling for? Come on up and give us a ’and to split someflamin ’ wood for Mrs. Parkes.”

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Bony said. “I knew that you would not let a lady down over a stick or two of wood. Take my arms and let us homeward bound.”

With Bisker clinging to his right arm and Fred holding onto his left arm, with the hurricane lamp in Fred’s free hand, still burning and still smoking, they came to the highway. And down the highway they rolled and tripped, singing at the top of their voices.

They met a car and the driver pulled up. He was the Senior Constable stationed at Mount Chalmers. His eyes were as big as small pumpkins. Bony stopped singing long enough to say:

“Bolt must mind his step.”

The S.C. stared after them, Bony in the centre-leading a chorus about an old grey mare a-restin’ down on the farm.

The Mistake That Marcus Made

BONY TOOK lunch with his customary table companions in excellent spirits.

Having accomplished his Boy Scout act for the day, he had been amply rewarded by Miss Jade with her sweetest smile, the memory of which was to remain long in the mind of the impressionable Bonaparte.

On nearing the top gate into the Chalet grounds, Bony had put the brake on the singing, and then having arrived at the wood-stack, with fine diplomacy he put his walking companions to work introducing the competitive element by suggesting to Bisker that perhaps he would like to sit down and allow Fred to do the splitting for Mrs. Parkes. The result, of course, was that Bisker refused to remain inactive and Fred declined to do any sitting about so when the luncheon gong was struck there was enough wood split for all the fires to last for several days.

The work accomplished, Bony conducted his new friends to Bisker’s hut, returned to Miss Jade from whom he obtained a refresher in a bottle, administered the tonic and saw the two men safely into the one bed for the afternoon. Meanwhile, Miss Jade had secured the services of a local man to take the place of George, and once more the organisation of Wideview Chalet was running efficiently.

After lunch, a goodly proportion of the guests departed for walking exercise. Others, chiefly the elderly people, retired to their rooms for a nap. A hire car arrived and took yet others for a drive round the mountain, and when that had left there remained on the veranda less than a dozen people.

Ofthese Bony was one, occupying his favourite chair placed at the far end. In a group sat Sleeman and Lee and the new guest at their table, whose name was Tully. Downes occupied a chair beyond them, whilst beyond him were grouped several men and their wives.

The day had continued fine and gently warm. The kookaburras were silent, but the whip-birds in a distant gulley now and then gave forth their peculiar notes. Over the valley floor the scattered “wool” had been swept up and away by the heat of the sun, and now this early afternoon the distant mountains were receiving their Joseph’s coat of many colours. The only blot onall of Nature’s vast and beautiful scene were the Devil’s Steps on Miss Jade’s lawn.

To doze, of course, was impossible for Bonaparte. His mind was charged with the electricity of expectancy for at any moment now Bolt and his men would appear and go into action against Marcus. He wondered if by now the house belonging to Marcus’s friend had been raided, and just how the preparations for arresting Marcus were shaping. Bolt would take no chances. He would have half the Police Force of Victoria on the move, moving grimly and with machinelike precision towards the focal point of Wideview Chalet.

A kookaburra laughed lazily. It was high up among the foliage of a mountain ash growing near the main entrance, and Bony wondered if the bird had sighted anything unusual. Other than that laughter, faintly mocking, faintly satanic, there was no sound. The quiet air appeared held within the grasp of a giant, careful that nothing should vanquish the spell exerted by the valley and the distant mountains.

Bony had decided not to take any action in the arrest of Marcus unless compelled to do so by circumstances. For one thing, he was not a member of the Victorian Police and was not even on loan for duty to that Department. For another, he had agreed to co-operate with Bolt, and he had done so by establishing to him the man responsible for a Victorian policeman’s death, and, moreover, a man having an international reputation for ruthlessness, a man whose capture would give great credit.

For Bony, the minutes passedlaggardly, and then the first move of interest since he had reclined in that wickedly luxurious chair was made by Downes. He left his chair and, passing behind Sleeman and his companions, he approached Bony with an easy motion like that of a cat.

“Care for a game of draughts?” he asked. “Not the right time for a game, but I don’t feel like sleeping-or reading.”

Bony swung his feet over to the floor and sat up.

“Yes, I’ll play,” he consented.“Where? Here?”

“Might as well. I’ll get the board, it’s in the lounge.”

Downes went away, again passing behind Sleeman, Lee and the hefty Tully. Bony noticed that both Tully and Sleeman watched Downes until he had disappeared through thefrench windows into the lounge, and both appeared to be careful not to be looking that way when Downes reappeared, carrying the board and the box of draughtsmen. He picked up a card table en route, and placed it near the balustrade, and before Bony could assist him he had arranged two chairs, one on either side of the table, and had occupied the seat facing the lawn, Bony thus having to be content to sit with his back to the lawn. It was all done with casual politeness.

“It’s your choice of colour,” Downes said, evenly, placing the draughtsmen.

“Then I’ll choose black. I am not taking any chances this afternoon-not with an opponent like you.”

“I never take chances with an opponent,” Downes declared with a faint smile. “Draughts, like any other game, and like life too, isn’t to be taken lightly. A mistake can rarely be retrieved, especially an initial mistake.”

“I agree. Well, you make the first move.”

Dowries played without any affectations and, when playing with Bony, never with defensive tactics. He went swiftly into action, and then leaned back in his chair whilst waiting for Bony to make his move. Bony took time to consider, and then moved with greater deliberation. Under which arm-pit did Marcus carry his gun? He wore single-breasted coats, slightly full in front and with padded shoulders. Neither side pocket was out of place.

It was Marcus’s turn to study the board. His pale face was expressionless. His hands resting on the table on either side of the board showed no signs of nerves. Never once did he raise a hand to stroke his chin, or to stroke his moustache which was so perfect that even in that light Bony could not detect its falsity.