Arthur Upfield - Murder down under

“Jelly must be an amateur detective,” Muir said in his rapid manner.“Strange bird, Jelly! Did you know- But when are you going back to Brisbane? Old Spender will be almost a lunatic by this time.”

“Colonel Spender is a man of quick temper. He will not live as long as I will. The burning of life is hastened by violent emotion. I shall return to Queensland when I have finished a little private work totally unconnected with the police.” Bony rose to his feet, and then added, when they began thetownward walk: “This case should help you, John. Take all the credit you can. Never fail to blow your own trumpet, for worldly success depends upon one’s ability to do that. Think of our alleged statesman: how they gab, gab, gab aboutthemselves . Great fellows! Blue blood in them, John. Copy them, and you willrise high. Fail to do so, and you will remain hidden as are the scientific researchers-as I am.”

John Muir gripped Bony affectionately by the arm, saying:

“Bony, old man, thanks very much! You’re a damned decent sort.”

With well-controlled gravity Bony said, in order to hide how much he was touched by the other’s act and words:

“When you are Commissioner you will give me far less worry regarding your career than you now do as a detective. The quicker I push you into the gilded chair, the sooner my worry will be removed.”

Several days passed before Bony received the long-expected summons from the Merredin postmaster. In that official’s office he was shown a telegram addressed to “Jelly-South Burracoppin.” The message read: “Come Adelaide.” On the reverse side of the form were written in a scrawl the words: “Sunflower Jelly-South Burracoppin.”

“The clerk who received this telegram this morning remembered your previous inquiry and took special note of the sender,” the official explained. “I am, therefore, able to tell you that the sender is a Mrs Chandler, who lives at 18 Mark Street, of this town.

“I am very much obliged to you,” Bony said earnestly. “Do you know anything about this Mrs Chandler?”

“Next to nothing. She is, however, Mrs Westbury’s sister.”

“Indeed! Well, I’ll go along and interview her. Again, I thank you very much. Good-bye!”

The woman who answered his knock on the door of 18 Mark Street was matronly and pleasant.

“Madam, you dispatched this morning a telegram to a Mr Jelly, of South Burracoppin,” Bony stated sternly.

At once Mrs Chandler froze.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said. “Who are you?”

“I am a detective employed by the Telegraph Department,” he lied. “I am looking into the matter of a false declaration made on the back of a telegraph form. The counter clerk-”

“I can say nothing about it,” the woman cut in. “You had better see my brother-in-law, Sergeant Westbury, at the police station.”

“Oh! Thank you. I will call on the sergeant,” Bony said less frigidly, and, after raising his hat politely, walked off to the police station, hoping against hope that his long-growing suspicions about Mr Jelly were not proved truth and fact by the genial sergeant.

“Good day, sir!” exclaimed Sergeant Westbury, heaving himself to his feet when Bony entered the station office. The Burracoppin case being finalized, Westbury could find no further excuse for not paying due respect to his superior in rank. “Sit down, sir. Glad to see you-glad to see you, sir.”

“Can you tell me, sergeant,” Bony began when he was making a cigarette, “can you tell me why your sister-in-law sent a telegram to Mr Jelly, of South Burracoppin, this morning, in which she said: ‘Come Adelaide’?”

“Eh! Well, yes, I can-I can.” Sergeant Westbury became red of face and neck. “Mr Muir could have told you.”

“Not wishing to put such a question to Muir, I refrained. I would not have put it to you, only I am pressed for time and must take the shortest cut, via yourself.”

Sergeant Westbury came round his desk, drew close to Bony, stooped, and whispered into his ear.

“So that’s it,” Bony said softly. “I have been afraid it was. If I hadn’t been so overruled by vanity when detailing my investigations to Muir, I would have sought his assistance. What you tell me explains Mr Jelly’s morbid interest in criminology, and the roundabout way arranged for those telegrams to be sent him, and the success with which his extraordinary business was kept secret.” Standing up, he held out his hand, adding: “I shall be leaving for Brisbane bytonight’s express. Good-bye, sergeant! I have been much pleased with your valuable collaboration, and I have remembered you in my report.”

“The pleasure is mine, sir-mine, sir-mine, sir,” stuttered the delighted Westbury.

Slowly Bony sauntered to the Merredin Hospital.

Eric Hurley had given his blood to his sweetheart and now was recuperating in the Merredin Hotel as the guest of Mr Jelly. This afternoon Bony found Lucy much brighter and stronger in her bed in an isolated corner of a veranda ward of the hospital. When he had taken the chair at the head of the bed he looked down to find her regarding him shyly.

“I am afraid that being kind to me has delayed you returning to your home,” she said. “Sunflower was here this morning, and she brought the table centre I wished to give to your wife. It was fortunate that I finished it before-before-”

When she hesitated to refer to that night of terror Bony said swiftly:

“You are kindness itself. I shall never forget you or Sunflower. Sunflower promises to write to me sometimes. She is coming with your father and Eric at five o’clock. They are bringing afternoon tea, and I have induced the sister to lend us her teapot and permit us to boil water. We will have a kind of family tea, because I leave for Brisbane tonight on the express. As your father has business in Adelaide, we will travel together as far as that city.”

“Has-has he had another telegram?”

“Yes, but you need not worry about it,” he assured her with much earnestness. “As I promised you, I have found out what is his business, and it is really nothing of which he might be ashamed, although its nature is highly secretive. I am going to ask you to refrain from asking me questions about it, to be satisfied with what I tell you, and to believe me when I repeat that Mr Jelly is doing nothing of which he might be ashamed. Excepting the State of Queensland, your father’s extensive knowledge of criminology is constantly in demand by the law officers of the Australian States; if Mr Jelly ever had to come to Queensland on his particular business, I should have known what I know about him today.”

“You make me so happy,” she cried softly. “I have been so afraid. I shall not now mind his going away. If he had only told me, it would not have been so bad.”

“Well, as he promised me, he is going to give it up. When he returns from Adelaide he will be called to Perth, and after that he will go away no more. He has given me his word: he will keep it.” Bony broke off to laugh. “You know,” he continued, “you know, it is always wise to counter an attack with an attack. Your father sternly demanded what I meant by taking you to the Loftus homestead. Instead of expressing my real and honestly heartfelt regret, I counter-attacked by pointing out to him that he was not following his duty as a father by sneaking off now and then without telling you why he went away and where he went to. I reminded him of his promise to me; I told him that his goings on were disgraceful, and finally I told him that if he did not give you and Sunflower more attention that he would hear further from me.”

Lucy sighed. Her eyes were very bright.

“I am glad there is no need to worry any more,” she murmured.