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20 The Eagle Down Under
March 1952
The taxi pulled up in front of the old house. Steven Taylor got out and paid
his fare. "Don't bother, I'll carry my own bags." The cabby nodded
and drove off.
He walked up the porch steps and rang the bell. A man in his late twenties
answered the door. "Steven, I'm glad you accepted my invitation."
"I wouldn't pass up such a chance to get away from everything."
"C'mon in."
"Thanks, Joe."
Steven had met Joe Ryan when he was in the MASH in Korea. While he was there,
Joe learned that his father had died leaving him their sheep station. He
invited Steven to come Down Under to celebrate whenever he wanted to get away.
"Nice place you got here."
"It's pretty comfortable. There's still a lot of work to be done."
In the main hallway Steven saw a painting that caught his eye. "Isn't that
a Raphael? I'm not great art historian, but it looks like his style."
"You're right. It's been in the family as long as I can remember. It's one
of the few great masterpieces privately owned in Australia. Worth a mint,
too."
He led Steven upstairs to his room. "I'm next to you on the right. The
bathroom's straight down the hall. Want a beer?"
"Yeah, thanks. I'll start unpacking if you don't mind bringing it
up."
"Not at all." Joe went downstairs.
Steven began to unpack his suitcases. There was a large bureau which held all
his clothes. There was also a walk-in closet, mirror, and four-poster bed.
Joe returned with the beers. "Here's your brew, mate."
Steven took it gladly. After his first sip, he asked, "Do you keep this
yourself?"
"Oh, no, I've a neighbor who comes over a few times a week to clean. If
not, this place would be a sty. There are also a few locals who help with the
sheep."
"Any close neighbors? You seem so far out of it here."
"Well, there are a few. There isn't too much socializing because we're so
far apart."
The two sat in Steven's room talking about their pasts and Korea. Two hours
later, they heard the doorbell. "I wonder how long we've been up
here?"
They went downstairs and answered the door. " 'Ello, mate. Saw you had
company and I wanted to welcome them to Kangaroo Flat."
"Why don't you come in, Mike. Steven, this is my neighbor Mike Harmon; his
wife does the cleaning. Mike, this is my friend Steven Taylor. We met in
Korea."
"Nice t' meet you. Are you the Steven Taylor? I remember readin'
'bout you in the papers. You were once a jewel thief, right?"
"Yeah, I was. Gave it up. When no one knew me, there was excitement. Now
it's no fun."
"Want a brew, Mike?"
"No, thanks, mate. There's a 'roo been givin' trouble down our way. Gotta
get goin'. Nice meeting' you, Steven."
"You, too, Mike." Mike mounted his horse and rode off. "Some
guy, there."
"He's a great help in running things."
"That's good. It's great to have someone you can depend on."
"How would you like a tour of the place? It's nothin; great, but if you're
gonna be here awhile, you should know your way around."
It was a large station. The barn and chicken coop were in good condition but
the sheep pen looked as if it had seen better days. "We only use the barn
for four horses and we don't have that many sheep. We had to sell most off
during World War II and trying to build up the herd again. It'll take a long
time to get it the way it once was. I barely had enough to buy some sheep last
week."
"Not to get off the subject, but do you have neighbors other than Mike
Harmon and his wife?"
"There are the Hays that live on the other side. There's m'girl Jane, her
brother Jim, and her dad. Her dad's a kind old man, but her brother's the one
that doesn't like me. Don't know why."
"And they're your only real neighbors?"
Joe nodded. "They were all a great help when I came home. Without them, I
might have gone crazy."
***********************************************
The next morning when he woke, Steven almost forgot where he was. He dressed
and went down to breakfast. Joe was making pancakes. Just as Steven sat down at
the table, there was a knock on the back door. "It's probably Mary Harmon
come to do the cleaning. She'll want to meet you."
Joe opened the door. "Thanks, luv." Mary Harmon walked into view. She
looked much younger than Mike, more like a daughter. Joe said she was in her
late forties. She definitely did not look it. "You must be Mr. Taylor. Mike
told me you were here. It's nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, too, Mary. It must be quite a job for you to keep this
place clean."
"No, it's not that bad. Joe keeps it very clean. You look like the type
who keeps a clean house as well."
"What's it like living out here? It must be pretty tough."
"Not really. I grew up on a station like this. That's how I met Mike. He
came to work for my father."
Joe served the breakfast and asked Mary if she wanted a cup of tea before she
began. "That would be nice."
She went on chatting about her father's station and her early days with Mike.
Long after her tea was done--and Joe and Steven's breakfast--she was still
talking. Steven excused himself on the premise of taking a shower. "Oh,
I'm sorry. I didn't realize I had been talking for so long. Next time you
should tell me."
Steven smiled. "Don't worry. I will." He went upstairs.
Joe helped Mary with the dishes. "He's a nice man, he is."
"You're right. I met him when I was in hospital in Korea. He helped me come
to terms with Dad's death."
"He's not snobbish. I think he's the first Englishman I've takin' a likin'
to."
Joe laughed. "And you, the staunch Aussie, who puts down all
English."
"I liked him when he was king. He was raised in America and has American
ideals. He's not like other Englishmen."
Joe went upstairs to talk to Steven. "Mary told me the Hays are having a
party tonight and have invited me. I'm sure they'll want to meet you. It'll
probably be the only social event while you're here."
"I guess it couldn't hurt. When tonight?"
"Around 7:00. It depends on when everybody is there. I'm sure you'll enjoy
it." he left Steven to mull it over.
That night Steven and Joe went to the Hays' in Joe's car. Since it was just a
small social occasion, they were dressed casually; jackets and ties. Steven was
a bit nervous because he was going to a party where he knew nothing about
anyone else. "Don't worry about it," said Joe.
When they entered the house, they found that the Harmons had already arrived.
Joe took Steven over to meet Toby Hay. "Nice to meet you, Mr.
Taylor."
"Steven, please. I'm glad to have been invited."
"It's an honor for us to have you here. Besides, you're a friend of Joe's.
Have you met my children yet?"
"No, not yet. Joe's told me about them, though."
"They're good kids. Couldn't ask for any better."
Joe returned with the drinks and Jane following him. He introduced her to
Steven. "It's great to meet you, Mr. Taylor. I've read so much about you.
I hope sometime while you're he we could talk about your adventures. That's if
it's okay with you."
"I don't mind. Just pick a time and we'll talk."
"Where's Jim?" asked Toby.
"I don't know. Maybe he's out back somewhere. I heard a noise out there
before."
Toby excused himself and went to search for his son. He returned fifteen
minutes later with Jim beside him, wiping hay off his pants. "What were
you doing in the barn?"
"I heard a noise and went to look."
"There's someone I'd like you to meet. Jim, this is Steven Taylor. He's
staying with Joe for a few days."
Steven looked at the young man as he shook his hand. He was maybe a year or two
older than Jane and looked like his father; dark eyes, dark hair, and
weather-beaten skin. "Nice to meet you." His response was stiff. He
had a look in his eyes closely resembling fear or suspicion.
"Did you ever find the source of the noise?"
"No. I didn't have a chance to search thoroughly."
"Too bad. Maybe later you'll find some sort of clue telling you what
happened."
"Yeah, maybe."
Around midnight Joe and Steven prepared to leave. Steven thanked the Hays for
the invitation. Jane reminded him that she would stop by to listen to his
stories in the morning. Toby gave him a strong handshake and Jim gave him a
curt nod good-bye. As Steven looked back, he could see the eyes of Joe and Jane
meet in a special gaze. Joe broke it off after a few minutes by stating he had
to get going.
They arrived back at Joe's close to 12:30. Joe went over to the bar to fix a
nightcap. Steven glanced around the main hall and noticed something was
missing. "Joe, get out here."
Joe came out and found Steven staring at an empty wall. The Raphael was gone.
"Damn!"
Steven began to examine the room for any clues that might help him figure out
what exactly happened. He could find nothing certain and waited for Joe to get
off the phone with the police. "Do you have some powder I could use?"
"Yeah, sure." He ran upstairs.
Steven examined the wall where the painting had hung. It seemed to have been
expertly done. Only a small piece of wallpaper had been torn off, the first and
only clue. Joe returned with the powder. "What did the police have to
say?"
"They'd send someone over right away. How are the fingerprints coming
along?"
"Nothing. Must've been wearing gloves. We'll leave it to the police to
see. I've found one clue, though; a piece of wallpaper was ripped off."
"Great. What am I going to do?"
"Was it insured?"
"Ever since it was first bought. It's updated every few years."
"At least you have that. Some people don't even have insurance. How long
will it take the police to get here?"
"About another fifteen minutes."
"Good. Once they realize you have a houseguest, and who that houseguest
is, I'll automatically fall under suspicion. You'll have to tell them where I
was, they won't believe me."
"Even with your position, they'll still suspect you?"
"Especially because of the position. I've also done a few 'jobs' while I
was in Europe last year."
A car pulled into the driveway. Joe answered the door. The police followed him
to the wall where the painting had hung. Steven was there sitting on a chair.
He got up and moved when the police entered. "I didn't realize you had
company, sir," said the detective.
"It's quite all right. He's a friend visiting from England. He came down
on my--"
"You came to examine the painting's theft, so why don't you?"
interrupted Steven.
The detective looked at him. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
"Maybe."
"That's it. You're the duke of Edinburgh. How nice of you to honor us with
your presence."
"I didn't come here for sarcasm. I came to visit a friend who has now been
robbed, and you're not doing a damn bloody thing about it!"
The detective looked at Steven coldly. "You'll have to explain your
movements tonight."
While two constables searched for clues, a third took notes as the detective
questioned Steven and Joe. "When you both left for the party, all the
doors and windows were locked. Then what?"
"We arrived at the Hays' twenty minutes later and were introduced to
everyone. Jim Hay was out in the barn when we arrived, but came in not long
after. We left around midnight and got back close to 12:30."
"You were never by yourself the whole night? People will swear they were
with you?"
"Yes."
A constable came up to him. "Excuse me, sir. There are no fingerprints
other than theirs."
"Was anyone else here today?"
"Just my neighbor's wife to clean."
"We'll need to talk to your closest neighbors. Do you mind if we hold the
preliminary questioning here? All follow-ups will be done in their own
homes."
"No, not at all. Would you like me to phone 'em?"
"That won't be necessary. We'll send a car to pick them up. How many are
there in each house?"
"Husband and wife Mike and Mary Harmon, and Toby Hay and his children,
Jane and Jim. You can get the guest list from Jane."
The detective told one of the constables to go pick up the neighbors for
questioning. He turned back to Joe. "Do you think you could make some
coffee? We may be here a long time."
Joe went into the kitchen. Steven was on his way to join him when the detective
called. "I don't want you in the way. I've a feeling you've got something
to do with this and I'm gonna prove it."
Steven looked back at him and said coolly, "Then you'll just die
tryin'."
He walked into the kitchen mumbling under his breath. He opened the
refrigerator and pulled out a beer. "This detective is gonna drive me
crazy."
"What's the matter?"
"Lestrade out there is sure that I'm the one that ripped off the
Raphael."
"He's crazy! You were with me most of the time and you never left the
Hays'. Just because you were once a thief..."
"How will they feel when the police pull up and ask them to come
here?"
"They'll be concerned, of course. I wouldn't be surprised if they begin to
suspect you themselves. I don't think Jane will, though. She's followed
everything you've done."
"Well, at least I have another ally besides you. No offense."
"None taken. Can you help me with the mugs? Thanks."
Steven held the door open for Joe as he carried the tray into the living room.
The detective looked up from examining the room himself. "The neighbors
are on their way now. I want the two of you to let me do the talking unless you
are asked a direct question." He looked directly at Steven.
"Especially you."
Steven smiled sweetly back at him. "I would dare do anything to upset you,
detective." Joe looked at Steven's face and nearly burst out laughing. The
detective frowned at the two of them and went outside to greet the Hays and
Harmons.
"I think you are definitely on tha man's wrong side."
"I won't argue with you there. I just don't think he's the type that
doesn't like anything English and is trying to use me as a scapegoat for that
hate."
The Hays were the first to arrive. Toby and Jane seemed genuinely concerned
while Jim looked very irritated. "What's going on, Joe?" asked Toby.
"When the police asked us to come here, I was worried that something had
happened to you," said Jane.
Jim came right to the point. "I hope this doesn't take too long."
"We have to wait for the Harmons before I can tell you what
happened."
The Harmons entered a few minutes later with the detective following them.
"I'm glad you're all here. Mr. Ryan has experienced a theft while he was
at the party. A priceless, original Raphael was stolen. We just have to ask
each of you some questions. It shouldn't take too long." He asked Joe and
Steven to leave the room.
They all seemed to have the same answers; they were all there when Steven and
Joe arrived, and the Harmons left after they did. At one point or another,
Steven and Joe were always in sight of at least one of the witnesses.
"You suspect Joe of stealing his own painting," said Jane.
"It's been known to happen. They do it for the insurance."
Jim spoke up. "I think it was that Taylor. He's a shifty-looking
bruce."
"Just because he once did that type of thing--stealing, I mean--doesn't
mean he still does," said Jane, defending him.
"Once a thief, always a thief."
"Do you have proof of it? Do you?"
"Just because you like Joe and Taylor's his friend doesn't mean he's
incapable of doing anything wrong."
"Break it up, the two of you," said Toby. "This isn't some
trivial little thing, it's important. Continue, Detective Gibson."
"Thank you, Mr. Hay. I'm not accusing either his Grace or Mr. Ryan. I just
have to explore all the facts. You will all be suspects until proven otherwise.
Don't plan to leave town. That's all for now. Thank you for coming at this late
hour."
He ushered them outside and Joe and Steven watched them leave from another
room. "I wonder what went on in there. I feel like I should know."
"He'll let you know. Police are always like that."
"You're used to this type of stuff, but I'm not! We're talking about a
famous, priceless painting. I was entrusted with it in my father's will."
"Calm down. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that they have to figure
out an angle before they tell you anything. He'll be back. C'mon, sit down and
have a drink."
Joe sat down in an armchair. "I'm sorry, Steven. I didn't mean to yell. I
know you're right."
"It's okay. I've seen other people like you are. I'll start a little
investigation of my own, if you want. I'm sure I could find out a lot more than
the police could."
"Do you think so? I don't want you to it if you don't want to."
"No trouble. Think of it as payment for the invitation." Joe began to
protest. "I want to."
"When do you plan to start?" Joe looked more relaxed now.
Detective Gibson knocked on the open door. "My men and I will be leaving
now. We've done all we can for tonight. I'll call you if I need to."
"Good night, detective. Thank you."
Steven stood and stretched. "We'll get some sleep now and I'll start
tomorrow."
They turned off the lights, made sure all the doors and windows were locked,
then went upstairs. Steven mused over the different reactions of everyone when
they learned of the theft. His first suspicions leaned towards Jim, but the
criminal was not always the obvious one. This was not going to be easy.
***************************************
Steven woke at midday and made himself a cup of coffee. Joe was still sleeping
so Steven made a list of what he planned to do that day. He figured that he
should talk to the Harmons first and find out their backgrounds. Mary would
probably not be coming in to clean.
The Hays might be a bit more difficult. Jane would be willing to talk. Toby
might start off reluctantly, but would warm-up to his subject. The hardest
would definitely be Jim. He didn't know why Jim was so harsh towards him, or
any "outsider". He would have to get the truth out of him somehow.
He went upstairs to change and prepare to start his investigation. Joe was
still sleeping so he left him a small note telling him where he was going.
Mary Harmon let Steven in. "Mike's down at the barn. He should be back
soon. Would you like some tea?"
"Yes, thank you, Mary." Steven sat at the kitchen table and waited
for the tea.
"How is Joe handling the theft?"
"He's upset as anyone would be, but he's handling it okay." She
handed him his tea. "How long have you known Joe? I don't know him that
well and he seems to hide things from me."
"I've known him since he was five. A cute child, he was. His mother was
very beautiful, from a fine family in Sydney. People wondered why she gave up
her glamorous life to live out here on a sheep station. His father was a
handsome man, so I can understand why.
"His station became bigger and more profitable as the sheep became famous
for their wool. That was when Mike and I came to work for them. They were very
kind employees and good friends. Joe was doted on and everyone loved him.
"From the beginning, he and Jane played together. Jim was always fighting.
Mostly, just pushes and shoves, but it soon turned to fists. When the war came,
Jim was turned down because of asthma and Joe went on the be the only soldier
from Kangaroo Flat."
"When did you meet Mike?"
"I knew him when he worked on my dad's station, but never really knew him
until one night at a dance. I was 19 at the time and he was 24. We danced and
talked all night. We married and Joe wanted to move on. While at another
station, he met Joe's dad. When he got enough money to buy his own place, he
asked Mike to come work for him. Of course, when he started selling less wool,
he had to lay people off. He helped Mike and me buy this place so we could make
a living.
"We were terribly upset when he died. Mike cared for the animals until Joe
came back. We offered to help him anytime he needed it." She stopped when
she heard footsteps on the porch. "Mike's back."
"I've got to get going. I hope I haven't taken up too much of your
time."
"Please stay. I've never had such a chance to talk about the past like
this. Mike won't mind."
"Mind what?" Mike stood in the doorway taking off his coat.
"Mr. Taylor was just about to leave and I said you wouldn't mind if he
stayed."
"Not at all. Stay and have lunch with me. Would you mind fixing us some
sandwiches, Mary? So what's on your mind?" he asked as he sat down.
"I was just wondering of your relationship with Joe. You seem so
close-knit."
"I worked with his father. When his mother died, Mary helped raise him and
clean house. I was heartbroken when his father died. He was a good man and I
hope to carry on that friendship with Joe."
"What do you have to say about Toby?"
"Toby Hay's a nice bloke, definitely a good father. He raised the two kids
himself after his wife died. Kind employer, too. Pays a fair amount. The Ryan
place was originally part of Hay's property. It became so prosperous, it almost
began to rival Hay's. Then strange things began to happen. Some sheep dies and
no one could figure out why. Then cattle began to disappear without a trace.
The station began to lose money and he had to lay people off. No matter what
happened, he refused to sell that painting. 'A thing of beauty,' he used to
say. 'It brightens my day everytime I look at it.' That's why Joe's so upset.
"His father would be so proud of him now for trying to pick up the profits
again. He's planning to get some sheep today and asked me to go along. While
we're there, we're gonna look at cattle and possible new crops. Joe's got
common sense, not to mention business logic."
"I've got to head back now. I'm glad we had this chat. I feel like I know
what's going on now--sort of."
"I'm glad I could be of help. Maybe you can come with us. It just might be
your only chance to get a good look at the real Sydney."
Steven laughed and left. He thought over the things that Mike and Mary had told
him. He knew that there was something significant amid all the rumors and
gossip. Something. He had insights to a few possible suspects, but only one
could have stolen the painting, right? Maybe not. It needed more thought.
II
When Steven walked up the porch steps still wondering, he almost walked into
Joe. "Steve, I was just going over to Mike's to get you. Do you want to
come to Sydney with us? I meant to mention it to you before, but I forgot with
all the commotion. I have to pick up some sheep and look at cattle. You don't
have to come if you don't want to." He stood there waiting for Steven's
response.
"Sure. Mike and I were having a chat on the relations between England and
Australia. Sheep came up and he mentioned the trip. It may be my only chance to
see the 'real Sydney', as Mike put it."
Joe laughed. "Okay. I'll bring the truck around."
Steven waited until Joe came back. On the way over, he asked Joe about Mike and
Mary. "They're a real nice couple. I've known them ever since I was a kid.
He helped m'dad make the station prosper and I hope he'll do the same with me.
They say that Mary was a good-lookin' sheila in her heyday. She helped raise me
after Mum died. Did I ever show you a picture of her? I've got one in my
wallet. Remind me before we go inside to get Mike."
When they arrived at the Harmons', Joe stopped, pulled out his wallet, opened
it and thrust it into Steven's hand. "I'll go get Mike." He walked
off.
Steven was left looking at a faded photograph of a young woman, probably in her
late twenties or early thirties. He could see Joe's face reflected in hers. He
heard the porch door slam. He looked up from the picture and saw Mike and Joe
coming down the steps. He closed the wallet and placed it on the dashboard in
front of him.
Joe got in the truck and apologized for being so rough. "It's just that
talking about my mother upsets me."
"It's okay. I understand." Joe caught the underlying meaning of the
words and the subject was dropped.
Mike wasn't sure what they were talking about and waited until they were done.
"I'm glad to see that you came."
"No way would I let Joe leave me behind. I came here to visit and I'm
gonna see as much of Australia as I can."
An hour later they arrived in Sydney. They parked the truck near the stockyard.
Steven was surprised to learn that there were so many different types of sheep.
When Mike and Joe had finished examining the sheep and were preparing to sign
the papers, Steven told them he was going to go for a walk through the city.
"When and where do you want to meet?"
"How about the truck in two hours?"
"Fine. See you then." Steven knew where he wanted to go--the
insurance company that had the policy on the Raphael. He knew the name from
overhearing Joe tell the police. It was on the main thoroughfare and easily
reached.
The underwriter was upset to hear about the robbery of the Ryan Raphael.
"That's what we call it around here. It's probably the most famous
privately-owned original masterpiece in Australia. It's insured for quite a
pretty penny. I can't tell you the exact amount, but it's somewhere near $2
million."
"Australian?" The man nodded. Steven whistled. "That is
quite a bundle. I appreciate your help. If you get anymore information, contact
me at the Ryan station."
He still had time to wander through Sydney before he had to meet with Joe and
Mike. He walked down the main street, glancing in shop windows along the way.
In one store he saw a beautiful sweater that he knew Sarah would like. He went
in, bought in, and arranged to have it mailed to London. The woman took great
pride in sending a sweater to the Queen of England.
When that was done, Steven continued walking towards where they had parked the
truck. When he reached it, he could see them walking up from the opposite
direction. "Hey, guys! How are the sheep?"
"Ready to be loaded. Glad you showed up to help."
"I just remembered something..." He couldn't continue and began to
laugh. "Okay, lead me to 'em."
When they were done, Steven could not believe how exhausted he was. "Now I
know why I didn't go into sheep farming! I could go for a brew right now."
"I think you hit the nail on the head. I could murder a pint myself."
The three of them went into the nearest pub and ordered a pint each. "What
did you do while we were checking out cattle?"
"Nothing much. Just wandered around. I bought a sweater for my sister. The
store manager couldn't believe that the queen was actually going to wear
something from her store."
They passed the rest of the time chattering about Korea and World War II. Mike
mentioned some of his experiences during the North Africa campaign. "You
were one of the most talked-about people in the troops. We were all angry when
we heard that you turned traitor. A lot of the blokes were ready to kill you.
We had a party when the truth came out." Steven laughed.
Joe looked at his watch. "We'd better get going. It'll be dark before
we're halfway home."
They paid for the beer and headed back to the truck and the sheep. The ride was
uneventful. Mike invited them in for dinner. A light was on in the kitchen and
the front door unlocked. "You can leave your coats here," said Mike.
"I'll tell her you're here." He left, calling her name. They followed
him to the kitchen.
The first thing Steven saw when he walked in was Mary's body lying face-down in
the middle of the floor. Mike was sitting in a chair, just staring at her.
Steven walked over and knelt beside her and picked up her wrist. There was no
pulse, but the body was still warm. "She hasn't been dead very long."
He looked at her throat from the side, not wanting to disturb the body.
"Looks as if she's been strangled. Joe, call the police." Joe went to
the phone and Steven went into the laundry room and took a sheet and covered
the body. He then poured a glass of brandy and put it into Mike's hand. "I
know it's a hard thing to take, seeing someone you love dead like this,"
he said softly.
"Oh, do you now? And how do you know? She was my wife!"
"I know! My wife died in my arms, shot by someone trying to kill me! Don't
think you're the only person who's lost anyone! Joe's lost both his parents! So
stop wallowing in self-pity and help us figure out who killed her!"
Mike stared at him. Joe had hung up the phone and was also staring. Steven
apologized and walked out of the house. He couldn't face Mike, not after what
he said. He had also brought forth emotions he though he had under control. He
walked out towards a large oak and sat down. He stared at the sky and thought
of Victoria. He relaxed and let the tears flow.
After he had let out his feelings, he went back into the house. The police had
arrived and were examining the body. Joe saw Steven walk in and moved towards
him. Steven held up his hand, motioning Joe to stay where he was. He walked
towards the body. "May I?"
It was Detective Gibson. "Sure." He stood. "We've already
questioned the others. What do you have to say?"
"Not much. I talked to both her and Mike earlier, before we left for
Sydney. When we came back, we found her. The body was still warm." He had
been examining the body as he was talking. "It looks as if she's been
killed by a man she knew."
"How do you come up with that?"
"It's a man because a woman would have left marks from fingernails. As for
being someone she knew, from what I gather, Mary was not the type to let some
stranger into her house. Plus there's no sign of a struggle."
"Anything else, Sherlock?" asked Gibson sarcastically.
"No, nothing, Lestrade. Come along, Watson," he said to Joe as he
left.
Joe said some encouraging words to Mike, then followed. "Why did you
leave?"
"That detective is going to drive me crazy. I had to get out of there.
This is so unnerving. Mary was so talkative this morning. Poor Mike. He must be
going through hell right now."
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine. Why do you ask?"
"Just your outburst earlier. I don't think I've ever heard you raise your
voice like that."
"I didn't like Mike sitting there wallowing. He has to get out and do
something about it--like I did. I thought I had gotten over it."
"You never totally get over it. You may think you have, but you've just
buried them. It's good to let them out every once and awhile."
"Guess you're right."
When they were almost at Joe's, Steven spoke. "This is really annoying me.
I have a feeling that this ties in with the Raphael; whoever stole it killed
Mary."
"It's narrowed down to a man that she knew. You, Mike, and I were in
Sydney, so that only leaves Jim and Toby."
"I'm sure she knew more men than that. Maybe someone she hasn't associated
with lately." He looked at Joe who shook his head. "No? Well, I guess
I have to talk to the Hays then. I'll hold off for awhile, though, and not rush
into it."
They went into the kitchen and Joe put on the kettle for tea. Steven sat at the
table and brooded over the case. Joe knew not to disturb him. Steven barely
acknowledged the tea when it was placed before him. They sat there quietly
drinking their tea, forgetting they had not eaten. The doorbell rang and
wakened them from their thoughts. Joe answered the door and Steven heard a
girl's voice and remembered that Jane was coming to talk to him. She came into
the kitchen and sat while Joe poured her some tea. Steven could see she had
been crying. "You found out about Mary?" She nodded. "Don't
worry. We're trying to figure out who killed her and why. There's a chance it's
tied in with the theft."
"How do you mean?"
"She could have heard or seen something. Why else would someone kill
her?"
"That means that any one of us could be the murderer. Oh, my God!"
"Joe, Mike, and I were in Sydney. We know it was a man who killed her, so
you're off the hook."
"I can't believe a real murder took place."
"Could you tell us what your father and Jim were doing today?"
"You can't--!"
"I'm sorry, but I can't think otherwise until I have proof. Will you tell
me?"
She nodded. "When I woke close to 9:00, Dad and Jim were still sleeping. I
made some toast and coffee and did some reading. They both came down at about
10:00 to eat then went out to work the station an hour later. I stayed in and
cleaned house. I didn't see either of them until 4:00 when they came in for
tea. Afterwards, they worked until sunset. Jim came in first and said that Dad
was checking on a cow. He came in twenty minutes later saying the cow was fine.
I found out later about Mary and that she was killed near sunset. I didn't know
what else to do, so I came here."
Steven and Joe looked at each other, each knowing what the other thought.
"It seems that your father is the only one without an alibi near the time
of death--unless the cow can talk."
"Jim said Dad was checking on the cow." Jane refused to believe her father
was a possible murderer.
"He could have gone to the Harmons' across the fields. He definitely had
enough time. I'm not out to nail your dad, but considering all the suspects,
he's the only one that could have done it. I'll walk back with you and explain
everything as I see it. I also don't think you should be alone with a murder
around. Do you mind?"
"If Joe doesn't mind."
They both looked at Joe who nodded his assent. "Just don't do anything
more than explain."
Steven smiled. "Would I do that to you?"
"Yes, you would."
On their way across the fields, Steven explained what had happened and his
ideas on the subject. "Do you think your father has any reason to want the
Ryan station to fail?"
"Why do you ask about the station failing? What about the murder?"
"Mary's murder was done out of necessity, it wasn't part of the plan. The
true crime was the theft of the painting. Mary was murdered because she had
seen something--or the murderer thought she saw something. Joe told me
that if the insurance doesn't cover enough expenses, the station'll probably go
under."
"I think Joe's father once rented the land from my father until he could
buy it. The Ryan station seemed to be doing better than ours for quite awhile
until strange things started happening. During that time, my father seemed very
happy. It all became too much for Mr. Ryan and he died. Now when Joe's trying
to build it up again, strange things happen and my father is suspect."
"Maybe it's not your dad. Maybe it's a frame. That's what we have to find
out." They had reached the border of the Hays' station. "I think I'd
better stop here. They'd be suspicious if they saw you with me. Keep in touch
if anything out of the ordinary happens. I appreciate you telling me about your
dad. What will you say if they ask where you've been?"
"I'll say I was taking a walk in the fields. Don't worry. Just take care
of yourself and Joe."
Steven watched her until she was out of sight then turned and headed back to
Joe's. He was thinking about what Jane had said when two gunshots rang out.
Steven ducked into some high grass and waited. No more shots. He crept through
the grass until he came to the end of the field. He had to make a run for it.
His track days were well behind him and it showed. He was almost out of range
when he felt pain shoot through his leg. He collapsed and lay still. He waited
to make sure the unknown gunman was gone. He tried to get up, but his leg was
too painful. He crawled along the path until he felt faint. He lay there,
hoping Joe would come looking for him. That was the last thing on his mind when
he blacked out.
****************************************
Joe was
getting nervous. He should be back by now. It doesn't take this long to walk
there and back. He picked up a torch and headed for the door. The dog saw
that he was going out and waited impatiently by the door. Joe saw Steven's
jacket hanging by the door and held it out for the dog to sniff. Even though he
wasn't a bloodhound, there was a chance that he could still track him.
Joe turned on the outside lights and headed down the path. The air had started
to cool and he wrapped his coat tighter about him. The dog ran ahead then
doubled-back to make Joe hurry, thinking this just a game. When they were near
the property line, the dog ran off, barking. Joe ran after him, hearing the
different tone. He found Steven unconscious and face-down on the ground. The
dog was licking his face as if that were the only thing needed. Joe cast the
light over him to see if he could spot the problem. He stopped it on the left
leg. He knew blood when he saw it--especially when there was a lot of it. He
took the bandanna from around his neck and wrapped it tightly around the wound.
He then carefully picked him up and carried him to the truck and drove to the
nearest hospital.
At the emergency entrance, Joe had a hard time getting anyone to listen until
he told them who was in the truck. They rushed Steven into the operating room
and removed the bullet. Joe paced the floor, drank about six coffees, and smoked
close to eight cigarettes while he waited for news of Steven's condition.
"Mr. Ryan?"
Joe turned towards the voice and faced the doctor. "How is he? Is he
okay?"
"We've taken the bullet out and given him a transfusion. I'd like to keep
him in a few days for observation. He's under sedation at the moment, otherwise
you could see him. When he wakes, I'll make sure he knows what you've
done."
"Thank you, doctor. I've left my phone number with the nurse should you
need to reach me for any reason. I'll stop by tomorrow to see him."
**********************************************
Ariving home, Joe let out a sigh of relief. Steven was going to be all right.
The incident, however, raised new questions: who wanted to kill him and why?
Was he getting too close to the murderer for comfort? Why hadn't Steven
confided in him more? He looked up and saw a glow in the sky. "That can't
be the Aurora Australis, it's not in the right place. It looks more like
a...fire!" Joe raced home and saw his own barn aflame. Mike was there
trying to get the animals out with some help from Jim. Joe jumped out of the
truck and joined them. One look at he building told him it was too late to save
it. The fire engines were on the way, Joe could hear them. "Are all the
animals out?" he asked Mike.
"I think so. We put most of the sheep in the pen. They can stay there for
one night."
"Wait, where's Anzac?" Joe called for the dog and heard a faint bark
from the barn. Joe wet his coat in the trough, put it on, then started to go
inside.
"Joe, c'mon, the barn won't stand much longer. Why risk your life for the
dog?"
"He's a friend, Mike. I'd do the same for you." Joe went in, calling
the dog. The flames nipped at his legs and the smoke infiltrated his eyes.
"Anzac, where are you, boy?"
The dog barked again, louder this time, and Joe saw him trapped behind some
fallen debris. He could smell burning fur where sparks must have landed on his
back. "Good boy. I'll get you out." He reached over the wood and
lifted the dog into his arms, burning his hands in the process. He whispered
soothing words as he slowly rushed out of the building.
Mike and a fireman were there as he took a deep breath and coughed. Mike took
Anzac and Joe took the oxygen mask the fireman offered. For the first time, he
looked at his hands. They were smudged with soot and beginning to blister. Now
that he was aware of them, they were starting to hurt. The fireman put salve on
them and wrapped them tightly in gauze. "I've done what I can, but you
should have a doctor look at them tomorrow."
"I'll be visiting the hospital anyway. Thanks."
Mike sat next to him. "Where were you? I came over as soon as I saw the
smoke and you weren't here."
"I was at the hospital. We had a little accident earlier."
"We? Where's Steven? Is anything wrong?"
Joe told him everything. "This is just getting worse. I'm starting to
think there's a jinx on this place."
"Don't be silly. There's no such thing as a jinx and you know it. What you
need is a good night's sleep and you'll be able to think more clearly in the
morning."
"Thanks, Mike. G'night."
************************************************
Steven woke the next morning in a private hospital room and wondered why. Then
he remembered. I was shot last night. How did I get here? What's happened since?
The door opened and a nurse walked in. "Good morning, your Grace. I've
brought you some breakfast. I hope you're hungry."
"I'm famished." the nurse set up the bed tray and helped him get
comfortable. "Can you tell me how I got here?"
"I wasn't on duty when you were brought in, but I was told that you were
driven here by a Mr. Ryan who stayed until he was sure you were out of
danger."
Steven smiled as he thought of Joe pacing the floor. "Do you have a
morning paper I could read?"
"I'll see if I can get one for you, even if I have to take it from the
doctors' lounge." She returned ten minutes later with a local paper.
"It looks as if there was a big fire out at one of the stations last
night," she said, handing it to him. "Is there anything else you
need, your Grace?"
"No, thank you," he replied absently. She left and he read the
article on the fire. The saboteur wasn't taking any chances. He read the
article a second time, taking in every detail. He then picked up the phone and
made an outside call.
************************************************
The phone rang downstairs and wouldn't stop. Joe buried his head under the
pillows, hoping it would go away. No good. He got up and went downstairs
slowly, swearing at the phone with every step. He picked it up gently in his
bandaged hands. "Hello."
"Hey, mate, how are ya?"
"Steven? What are you calling for?"
"To check on you. Hope there wasn't too much damage."
"How did you find out?"
"Through a modern phenomenon known as a newspaper. You okay?"
"Yeah. Just a little beat is all."
"What happened?" Joe told him. "Do you think Jane would have
known if Jim or Toby were out at the time?"
"Their place is pretty big. They could've gone without her knowing. What
about you? When do the doctors say you can leave?"
"Depends on how much rest I get. I'm a fast healer. I could be out
tomorrow."
"Don't overdo it," Joe laughed. "Is there anything you want me
to do?"
"Just take it easy. After last night, I don't want you doing anything to
get the murderer going again. Care for you animals and get Mike to help so he
won't be moping."
"Okay. Do you want anything for yourself?"
"Nope, I'm all set. I'll call again later about my release. Bye now."
Joe laughed as he hung up the phone. He then went into the kitchen to make some
coffee; why not, he was already awake. He hoped that Steven was right about
nothing else happening. He finished his breakfast then went upstairs to change.
He called Mike and asked him to come help with the animals. He then went out to
the corral and let the ship out to graze. Then he began to groom the horses.
He was on the second horse when a voice said: "That was some fire last
night."
Joe turned expecting to see Mike, but it was Jim. "Yeah, it was. Thought
you were Mike."
"Sorry to disappoint you."
"No disappointment at all. You don't mind if I continue grooming?"
"No. Just wanted to talk. Shocked, hunh? I mean, we hardly do talk, and I
thought it was about time we did. I was reading the paper and saw that Taylor
was in the hospital. What happened?"
"Jane came over he after she heard about Mary and was real upset. Steven
walked her home, telling her not to worry about it. When he didn't come back, I
went out and found him. He might be getting out of hospital tomorrow."
"That's pretty fast. Does he have any idea on who killed Mary?"
"Maybe."
"C'mon. you can tell me. Does he?"
"Nothing definite, okay?"
"What did he say to Jane? She's been acting strange. I know that you like
her. I do too; she's my sister. So tell me, what did he say?"
"I don't know. Maybe he told her what he thought of the case. How should I
know? After all, he was unconscious when I found him. He damn well couldn't
have said a bloody word. Now just leave me alone."
"Fine. I was only going to tell you where your bloody painting is."
Joe turned. "What? You know where it is?"
"So now you want to talk to me. Yes, I know where it is. On the night it
was stolen, I did hear a noise in the barn. I went to check but didn't see
anything. As I was leaving, I saw a piece of wood sticking out from the hay. I
bent down, wiped it away, and then I saw the painting. I wondered what it was
doing there, but didn't think anything of it until I heard you say it was
missing. I would've said something earlier except Dad was breathing down my
neck the whole time. I finally got away from him today. I think it's still in
the barn."
"Okay, let's go. Wait, here comes Mike. Hey, Mike, keep an eye on the
animals, will you? I've got to check the Hays' barn. If Steven calls, take the
message. Thanks."
Mike watched as Joe went off with Jim Hay. Things have come a long way. If
only Mary could have lived to see this. He picked up the horse brush Joe
had dropped and began to work on the last horse. When he was finished, he
checked their feed and let them roam the corral. He walked into the house to
get himself a beer. He had just sat down when the phone rang. He debated
whether or not he should answer it. He gave in.
"Hi, Mike. Is Joe around?"
"No, he's at the Hays'. Jim came over and they were leaving when I came.
Joe seemed really excited about something. What do you want?"
"I'm getting out this afternoon and need a lift. Any idea how long he'll
be there?"
"No. I'd offer, but I don't know how to drive Joe's Jeep."
"That's okay. I'll get a cab. How are things going out there? Anything
else drastic happen?"
"No. I was just feeding the horses. I have to check on the sheep yet. What
time will you be getting here?"
"Oh, not until at least 5:00. You don't have to hang around if you don't
want to. Try and busy yourself, though. I'm sorry about my outburst the other
night. I just don't want to see you suffering like that. I know what you're
going through; I've been there myself."
"I understand now what you were trying to do for me. I wasn't angry and
upset at the time and I didn't realize what I was saying."
There was silence for awhile. "I'll see you when I get back."
"Sure. G'bye." Mike hung up the phone and sat down to finish his
beer. He thought about the man he had just talked to and what he had been
through in such a short period of time. Everyone knew his history. His mother
died shortly after the birth of his little sister and his father was killed two
years later. His uncle smuggled the two children to America were they were
raised, ignorant of their heritage. Steven became a well-known thief under the
name of the Eagle and was wanted by the police in four countries. He was soon
caught and sent to prison only to be bailed out by the U.S. government to help
in the war.
He worked with the Underground in France for a few months until the group was
discovered. Later in London, he spoke with the War Department and became
friendly with Winston Churchill! He was kidnapped by the Nazis and
forced to work for them. When he was discovered sending information to the
Allies, he was imprisoned but he escaped and made his way to America. His
information helped with the Normandy invasion and he became a war hero.
It was after winning 3 gold medals at the '48 Olympics that he learned the
truth about his past; that he was the missing heir to the British throne. He
married Churchill's ward. but she was killed on their honeymoon by a man trying
to kill him. He abdicated and searched for his wife's killer, bringing him to
justice a year later.
Three hours had passed while Mike had sat there thinking. "Joe should have
been back by now," he said, looking at the clock. He dialed the Hays'.
"Jim, is Joe there?"
"He left a half-hour ago. You mean he's not back yet?"
"Would I be calling?"
"You sure he's not chicken' the animals?"
"I would've heard 'em. Wait, I hear a car door. I'll call later."
Mike ran to the door and saw Steven getting out of a cab with a cane
"Ahoy, mate," said Steven after the car drove away. "Where's
Joe?"
"He hasn't come back. Jim said he left half an hour ago."
"He still must be over there. All this stuff has been originating from
someone in that house." He started towards the pastures. "Do you know
if Joe has a knife or a gun anywhere?" Mike shrugged. "We'll just
have to go without, then. Thank God they gave me a cane and not crutches."
III
Joe and Jim ran across the fields to the Hays' barn. "Where is it?"
panted Joe.
"Back here, under the loft." Jim rummaged around in the hay.
"Here it is. Looks in good shape. What're you gonna do with it?"
"I think we should leave it here so he won't know we know. I can come back
later. I really appreciate this, Jim, but why the change of heart?"
"You almost died last night and Taylor got shot. I just couldn't put up
with it. Dad was the one who did those things before your dad dies. He did it
out of jealousy, I think. Since your land once belonged to him, he felt it
wrong that your dad should be doing better than him. All the time these recent
things happened, I've had no idea where he was."
"Ever since Mary's murder, Steven's been saying it was either you or your
father, but since this turn of events, the case has strengthened against your
father. I'd better be going now so he won't be suspicious of you."
Joe left the barn and saw Jane at the back door of the house. He went over and
surprised her. She glanced at Joe then at the barn. For a second, Joe swore
later, a slight frown crossed her face. "Joe, what are you doing
here?"
"Jim came and told me he knew where the painting was, so I came back with
him."
"Was the painting where he said it was?"
"Yeah, buried under the hay in the barn. He told me why he thinks your
father did it. There's no concrete proof, yet."
"Maybe we can find something inside. He might have hidden stuff in the
attic."
Joe followed her upstairs to the attic. She took out a key and opened the door.
"You go ahead, I'll be right back with a torch." She left.
Joe turned around to look at some old chests. He heard the lock catch.
"Jane! Come back! The door's locked!" No answer. "She'll be back
with a torch, anyway." He began rummaging through the papers Toby had
collected over the years. There was enough evidence to prove that he had caused
the trouble before his dad's death. He could find nothing about the recent "accidents",
however.
He did not know how long he had been there when he heard footsteps on the
stairs. Joe got up and walked towards the door as it opened. Jane stood there.
"I'm glad you came back, the door was locked." He turned back towards
the boxes. "I found some papers here that prove your father did those
things at the station."
"Joe." He turned around. "Please don't make me use this."
He looked at the gun in her hands. "I don't want to use it, but I will if
you make me."
"Jane, what are you doing? Why are you aiming that at me?"
"Stop kidding. You know I killed Mary. Stop blaming it on my father. He's
a saint. He practically raised Jim and me. We didn't have any help like your
dad did." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "Sure, we gave a
party twice a year, but that's just a show. We've worked this station all our
lives; my dad, since he was your age."
He tried to say something, but she wouldn't let him. "Just because your
dad was a bloody pommie and you've had an English education doesn't make you
any better than the rest of us. Then you go off to war, the Pride of Kangaroo
Flat. You came back playing the faithful son when your dad died. The you had to
start building up the station.
"You couldn't leave it at that, though. You had to invite your new friend,
the duke of Edinburgh for a visit. I almost pulled it off, but you got too
smart. Oh, I loved you once, before I really got to know you."
Joe moved in front of the window. "Get away from there. No one will see
you. Dad and Jim are working in the fields and Mike is probably crying in his
beer."
"Why did you kill Mary?"
"She told me she found a handkerchief with my initials on it at your
house. I thought she might suspect something so I had to kill her. It was quite
simple. She only struggled a little bit. It gave me a bit of a thrill, but I
won't enjoy yours as much."
****************************************
Steven and Mike made fast progress, considering the cane. Steven told Mike of
his thoughts on the case. They crossed into the Hays' station and found Toby
and Jim working. Steven waved at them and they came riding over. Jim was
surprised to see him. "Joe said you wouldn't be out until at least
tomorrow afternoon. Has he seen you yet?"
"No, he never came back. Are you sure he left?"
"I haven't seen him since we talked in the barn. He left before I did and
was gone when I came out."
"What were you talking about in the barn?" asked Toby.
"I found the painting and showed it to him. I know all about it,
Dad."
"Don't blame him, Jim. Where's Jane?"
"At the house. Why?"
"We've got to hurry if we want to save Joe."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Jane's the murderer. For awhile, we thought it was you, Toby, but I
figured out later it was Jane. Joe doesn't know and is probably with her right
now."
"Give me your hand." Jim pulled Steven onto the horse carefully and
they rode to the house.
Steven looked up at the windows and saw Joe in the attic. "There he is.
We've got to hurry. She's got him in the attic."
They rushed into the house; Jim in the lead, Steven and Toby following.
"Mike, call the police and tell them to hurry!" yelled Steven as he
ran up the stairs.
******************************************************
In the distance, a door slammed. She didn't hear it. Joe began to sweat. He
heard footsteps running up the stairs. "Jane! Joe! Where are you?"
They burst the door open. Jane looked at the others. The minute she looked
away, Joe grabbed the gun.
"Why did you do it, Janie?"
"I did it for you, Daddy. He ruined all that you had done. I had to fix it
for you."
Mike came up the stairs. "They're on the way."
"Good. Do you want to take her downstairs now?" Toby and Jim walked
with a subdued Jane downstairs. "I'll follow down later." Mike nodded
and left. "How're you feeling?"
"I should be asking you that. What are you doing out of the
hospital?"
"It wasn't as bad as we thought. I lost blood and needed rest. When I had
had enough, I called Mike and he told me that you had gone off with Jim.
Why?"
"He told me that he had found the painting and thought his father had done
it. We didn't suspect Jane at all. Why did she do it?"
"For her father. She felt this was the only way to repay him. She probably
told you."
"I think she mentioned it, but I wasn't really listening." Steven
laughed. "What made you suspect her?"
"When I was talking to her while escorting her home, I noticed her
once-long nails had all been cut down."
"So?"
"She cut them down when she went to visit Mary and strangle her. The marks
would make us look for a man--which we did. It slipped my mind until the drive
back from the hospital."
They arrived downstairs just as the police car was pulling up in front of the
house. Everyone walked out onto the porch, Jane being held by Jim and Toby.
Detective Gibson got out of the car and was surprised to see all those involved
waiting for him. "What's all this, then?"
"Why, Sherlock, don't you know? This is your murderer."
"Don't be sarcastic with me. What are you doing out of hospital? Don't
answer that? Will someone responsible tell me about this? Joe?"
"Let Steven tell you." The detective sighed. "He knows what went
on."
"Okay, your Grace, but make it quick."
"Thank you." Steven condensed the story to five minutes.
"Damn! I should've killed you instead of just wounding you!"
"None of you can leave until after the trial. Got that?"
"Yes, Lestrade, dear heart."
Gibson drove off with Jane.
**********************************************
The courtroom was full on he day of the trial: standing room only. There were
reporters from every Australian, New Zealand, and British paper. Why not?
Steven Taylor, duke of Edinburgh was involved.
The prosecution spared no one in the witness stand. Toby confessed to being the
cause of trouble at the Ryans' station but did not mean for anyone to die. Jim
gave evidence on the finding of the Raphael and his reasons for not telling the
police earlier. Joe spoke of the fire and what Jane had said to him in the
attic. The hardest hit was Mike. He had to tell them what his wife had done
everyday. When it came to talking about her death, he broke down crying and had
to be led off the stand. Steven took it calmly. He related his story from when
he examined the wall that first night up to the point they rescued Joe from
Jane.
The decision of the jury was unanimous: Jane Hay was guilty. She was given a
life sentence for murder plus seven years for theft.
Back at Joe's house after the trial, Steven finished packing his bags. Joe
helped him carry them downstairs. "Where are you going?"
"No offense to you, but after what's happened here recently, I really
need a vacation. Besides, I told Sarah I'd be going to the Barrier Reef. Why
don't you come along?"
"I'd like to, but I have to stay and fix up the place. I need a new barn.
Jim said he'd help."
"You sure?" he asked as he stepped into the taxi.
"Yeah. Thanks for all you've done. Come back again soon."
Steven smiled. "Don't you be a stranger, either." He waved as the
taxi drove off.