Arthur Upfield: Sands of Windee

“The metal salvage they dissolved in nitric acid, purloined by Dot from the station workshop. The burned bones were very carefully pounded to dust in a gold-prospector’s dolly-pot and scattered to the winds.

“Thus was accomplished what is almost the perfect murder,” Bony continued after a pause for rolling and lighting a fresh cigarette. “The body of Marks was destroyed beyond identification by human intelligence. These men were aware that, with no body or identifiable portions of it in existence, the likelihood of their being charged with murder was nil. For my part, as a criminologist, I doff my hat to them, Father Ryan. To them are due my sincerest thanks for the entertainment the problem they set up has afforded me. As a minister of God you may not believe in luck, yet in this case luck played a momentous part. Perhaps I should say more definitely bad luck, for it was very bad luck for everyone concerned that I, Bony, became interested in it.”

Bony’s Choice

THE FACE of the priest, absorbed in Bony’s narrative, was indicative of astonishment, but at the oral evidence of Bony’s stupendous vanity he was compelled to smile in his benignant way.

“Wait one moment before you continue,” he said tersely, and set about producing a bottle of wine and two glasses. With these filled he selected another cigar, and, having lit it to his satisfaction, he again seated himself opposite to his visitor, saying: “Well, go on, man. You’ve made me impatient for the rest.”

Bony then related how he had seen the official report of Marks’s disappearance and what he discovered in Sergeant Morris’s snapshot of the abandoned car. He described his arrival at Windee, his finding the sapphire, the silver disk, and the boot-sprig.

“It was only recently that I cleared up the mystery of the sapphire, which Miss Stanton lost from her ring at the homestead of Windee, and which I found being used by ants to keep their eggs warm,” the half-caste went on. “I found a letter from an Adelaide firm of jewellers, addressed to Jeffrey Stanton, junior, and in effect saying that they did not think the sapphire they had set in the ring would be in any way inferior to the accompanying stones, but if the stone which Mr Stanton had found and had lost should be found again they would be pleased to replace their own stone with it at a nominal charge, or to buy it at a fair market price.

“I knew then, of course, that it was young Jeff whom Ludbi had seen fighting with Marks in the car. This fact had eluded me always, because Ludbi died before I could question him, and when, through a North Queensland aboriginal chief, I had Moongalliti-er, well, hypnotized, I found that Ludbi had not told his father the name of this man. I suspected Roberts on account of events that occurred, notably Roberts warning Miss Stanton, who warned Dot and Dash, that the police were there to arrest them, and afterwards prompting the men to put up a strike in order that no driver should be found to man a pursuing car. I was mystified by Moongalliti’s stupidity when asked to track about Marks’s car, and the reason why he threatened the pointing-bone to any of his tribe who talked about what Ludbi had seen. Whilst Ludbi had not seen Dot, Dot had seen him and saw the danger in that quarter. It was Roberts who bribed Moongalliti to silence with tobacco and food. This I discovered through Illawalli. When I found that someone had ridden a horse about the scene of the crime I thought it was Roberts, but it was young Jeff. And I thought Roberts was in love with Marion Stanton. As a matter of fact, he was merely loyal to the Stanton family.”

“Maybe,” interjected Father Ryan, adding dryly: “Nevertheless, Roberts proposed to Marion a year ago.”

“Ah, then love did prompt loyalty, Father. Anyway, that aspect was cleared up. The other mystery that held my attention was the little silver disk I found in the fork of a tree. I could not understand for what purpose it had been made until I received Marks’s dossier from Sydney, which informed me that when on active service he had received a head wound. Knowing-who does not?-the war services of the great Sir Alfred Worthington, who probably was concerned in all the trepanning operations-not too many-required by the Australians in France, I sent him the disk, believing it possible to have come from the head of Marks. I gave Sir Alfred the date of Captain Green’s, alias Marks’s, head wound.

“Sir Alfred Worthington replied in a letter that according to his war diary he inserted a plate like the one submitted in the skull of Captain Green the day after he received the wound. He stated further that, in his opinion, it was most unlikely it would fall accidentally from Captain Green’shead, and that without it fixed thereto he would at the least suffer from excruciating headaches.

“The agreement of name and date settled that matter for me. In that small disk, Father, I had proof that Marks no longer lived. The otherwise perfect murder was marred by one flaw. One oversight was committed by the killer, yet no one could blame either Dot or Dash for not knowing that Sir Alfred Worthington had carried out a trepanning operation on Green. The clue was given by Dot when he fired at Marks with Dash’s rifle, for the bullet from the high-powered cartridge smashed the man’s head and carried away the plate in it. It was just that little trick of Fate which ruined a perfect crime.”

“Maybe the clue which actually spoiled it-may I be forgiven for saying so?-was not the silver disk, but Ludbi’s sign revealed to you by Morris’s photo,” objected the little man with twinkling eyes.

Bony laughed at the gentle reproof of his vanity. Then he went on to explain how he had learned of the stolen bride case, and how he had despoiled Mrs Thomas of the potent paper she held-an incident over which the priest chuckled heartily. Bony had doubts of the validity of this document, obtained by intimidating a sick man, but it was in safe hands now, and Mrs Thomas could do nothing without it. He went on to describe his adventures when pursuing Dash, and the final revelation of Dot’s death by snake-bite.

“It seemed, by what Dash was persuaded to tell me,”he said, “that when Dot learned from Miss Stanton that Sergeant Morris was at Windee to arrest them, he wanted to take the whole thing on his own shoulders and face it out by flat denial. Dash would not consent, because I was suspect, as Ned Swallow remembered seeing me in Queensland, and, too, because of the danger of Jeff Stanton, junior, being brought in. Although of opposite temperaments, in spite of wide diversity of education and social upbringing, these two men were cemented by a bond of friendship exceedingly rare and, therefore, a beautiful thing.

“Even now I am inclined to the belief that, had Dot prevailed on his companion to allow him to face it out alone, no judge or jury would have convicted him-especially in these days, when wholly circumstantial evidence is discredited. We could have charged Dot with theft of Marks’s money, which he would have explained by saying he picked it up while hunting kangaroos where, obviously, Marks had thrown it down or lost it during his search for the car. For that he might have received one year’s imprisonment, possibly three. Recent Australian criminal history records a case where a murderer has got off with eighteen months’ imprisonment. It is possible to commit a crime against humanity with impunity, but any crime against capital is invariably dealt with severely.”

Bony suddenly ceased speaking. After waiting a few moments for him to go on, Father Ryan said gently:

“Although you have interested me exceedingly, you have not explained why Dash is not arrested as an accomplice, and young Jeff with him. Behind this question, I fancy, lies your trouble. My son, have no fear of anould priestwid the love of God in his heart.”