Broomed For Success

by Morgana Best

  “I wouldn’t know about that,” I said in as even a tone as I could muster.

  “It’s all making sense now,” he continued. “I looked for the gold for ages but couldn’t find it. Of course, my father wouldn’t have been silly enough to bury it here, at his house. I spent a few days digging, even though I was certain it wasn’t here.”

  Now I was completely confused. I wondered if the shock had made him take leave of his senses. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

  Doug took me over to the group of cane chairs in the corner of the room. I looked outside and could see Detective Walters still questioning the poor woman who discovered the body. I didn’t even know her name. I wondered why he was talking to her for so long.

  “I might as well tell you, Goldie. It’s all going to come out.” He tapped himself on the side of the head. “I’m an idiot! This will help sell the house. Yes, when this gets out, we’ll get lots of offers for the house. Goldie, immediately put the price up by at least a hundred thousand dollars.”

  I clutched the side of my chair and thought I would pass out. “One hundred, one hundred thousand dollars?” I stammered. “But we’re going to have enough trouble selling it as it is.”

  He tapped my arm and a wide smile broke out across his face. “Don’t you understand, Goldie? It’s going to be easy to sell now, what with my father’s friend lying dead in the bedroom.”

  I shook my head. Clearly, the man was completely insane. The lack of coffee in East Bucklebury had obviously affected his mind.

  “I can see you’re confused,” he continued. “I’ll explain it all for you. My father changed his name from Parrish to Greer. Have you ever heard of Ben Parrish and a famous bank robbery in Sydney?”

  I stared at the ceiling and bit my lip. “It does ring a bell.”

  “The Great Bank Robbery of 1955.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard of it! I saw a documentary on it some years ago. They stole a huge amount of gold bullion. Don’t tell me your father was involved in the gang?”

  “Yes, and I’m sure the victim in there was in the gang with my father. My father told me that guy in there didn’t serve a long term in prison because he was the youngest and the court thought he’d been unfairly influenced. He was the only one without a criminal record. There were five men in the gang and each of them split the treasure.”

  I nodded, trying to follow his story. It was hard to concentrate after seeing a dead body.

  “My father used to live in Tweed Heads. The police searched his place and didn’t find anything and they figured he wasn’t silly enough to keep gold bars anywhere near his house. He changed his name and moved to East Bucklebury.”

  “You never found your father’s gold.”

  He shook his head. “My father was going to tell me where it was, but he died too suddenly.”

  “Did he die of natural causes?”

  Doug gave a little start. “Are you asking if he was murdered?” He shook his head. “No, it was natural causes. He had no regard for his health and it finally caught up with him. I was in Bali when he took ill. I flew back but didn’t make it in time. He would have told me where the gold was if I’d reached him before he passed.”

  “Why didn’t he tell you sooner?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “I was doing well for myself. I didn’t need the money. Plus he always said I’d only get it after he died.”

  I looked around the house. “He didn’t spend any of it on himself?” I figured if a bank robber had that much gold, he’d be living it up in a waterside mansion.

  “My father was tight, really tight. He didn’t like to spend. He’d been very poor during his upbringing so he liked to hoard money and not spend it at all. He wasn’t quite right, if you get my drift.” He tapped a finger on the side of his head.

  I needed to make sense of this, but I needed some strong coffee first. The only place I could get strong coffee was from the illegal machine in my house. I would have to do my best to make sense of the situation in my caffeine depleted state.

  I held up one hand for silence. “Now, let me get this straight. Your father was involved in the Great Bank Robbery of 1955. You think the victim in the room was one of your father’s old gang members, no doubt looking for your father’s gold.”

  “Angus Burns!” he said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I just figured out who it must be. There was my father, as well as Angus, Laurence, Chris, and Martin. Chris and Martin died in prison incidents. Angus and Laurence were the only survivors, but my father had photos of them when they were all young, and Angus had flaming red hair. The man in that room still has red hair, despite his age. You know, Goldie, this will sell the house, the thought of all those gold bars being buried here.”

  I ignored that statement. “Do you think Angus wanted your father’s gold? If so, why didn’t Angus come looking for the money before now?”

  “Because no one knew my father lived here,” Doug told me. “He changed his name.”

  “So the victim must have only found out recently that your father’s house was here. How did he find out?”

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  “All those mounds in your back yard—were you looking for the gold?”

  He nodded. “It must be here somewhere. I bought a metal detector after Dad passed, but couldn’t find a thing. He probably buried the gold deep, wherever he buried it.” He sighed long and hard. “Still, it’s time to move on. If I haven’t found the gold by now, I never will. Plus there’s the fact the house is on twenty acres. Twenty acres of bad land, mind you, but don’t quote me.”

  I leant forward and put my head in my hands. Detective Power had to be the most useless detective on the planet. If only my crush, Detective Max Grayson, was in charge, but he was on forced leave. Detective Walters was a halfway decent detective, but Detective Power wouldn’t allow him to have his say.

  I sat and stared at the piece of stale bread holding the door open. “At least my day can’t get any worse,” I said aloud to myself.

  Just then I heard a voice from the doorway. “Goldie!”

  I looked up and to my horror saw a tall, muscled man.

  It was my ex-boyfriend Thomas, the one who had been having an affair with another real estate agent and had promoted her over me, sending me to work in his Gold Coast office, and what’s more, sacking me when I said I wouldn’t come back to Melbourne.

  I continued to stare at him in disbelief when he added, “Goldie! Good news. I’m going to win you back. You can be my girlfriend again.”

  Chapter 4

  I stood up in shock. Thomas ran over to me and enveloped me in a big hug, crushing my arms to my sides. He tried to plant a kiss on my mouth, but I turned my head just as his wet kiss landed on my ear.

  Detective Max Grayson stepped through the door, frowning at the sight of Thomas with his arms around me.

  I pushed Thomas away. “What are you doing here?” I snapped.

  Thomas looked quite put out. “All is forgiven, Goldie. I’ve decided I do want you, after all.”

  “Well, you can just turn around and take your tail back to Melbourne,” I told him. “I’ve moved on with my life. Besides, whatever happened to what’s-her-name?”

  “Alexis? I already told you we broke up. I invited you back to Melbourne, but you rudely said you didn’t want to come home.”

  I shook my finger at him, only too painfully aware we had an audience. “This is my home now, Thomas. I don’t know why you’ve wasted all your time coming here.”

  Angry red blotches broke out on Thomas’s face. “Now, Goldie, you don’t want to live in a horrible backwater dump like this town, do you? You’re a city girl and you know it. You need to come back to Melbourne.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Just go away. Thomas. I’m not going to Melbourne and neither is my wombat.”

  “Now, now, Goldie,” Max drawled, “don’t send your boyfriend away on my account.”


  “He is not my boyfriend!”

  “No,” Thomas replied. “I am her husband.”

  If looks could kill, Max would have had to arrest himself for the murder of Thomas. “No, she’s not,” Max hissed.

  “Well, no. But she could be.”

  “In hell,” Max growled.

  Thomas looked him up and down. “Who are you?”

  “Detective Max Grayson,” Max said. “Homicide Detective Max Grayson. Which means I know where to hide a body.”

  “Are you… are you threatening me, Detective?”

  “I’m not asking you out for coffee.”

  Thomas held up both hands, palms outward. “I don’t know what all the police are doing here, but I’ve just arrived at Gold Coast airport and took a hire car all the way here. I’ve been driving for two hours. You can check my flights. Whatever crime happened here is nothing to do with me.”

  Detective Power chose that unfortunate moment to come out of the bedroom. “Grayson, what are you doing here? You’re on leave.”

  “I’m a friend of Ms Bloom’s and I wondered if she needed assistance,” Max said firmly. Then with a look at Thomas, he added, “A very close friend of Ms Bloom’s.”

  “And who are you?” Power said to Thomas.

  Thomas obviously sized up the situation quickly. “I’ve just flown in from Melbourne. I am Goldie’s boyfriend.”

  “Ex-boyfriend,” I shrieked. “We broke up before I moved to Queensland.”

  Max placed a hand on my back.

  Power scowled at me. “Your personal life is of no concern to me,” he said, “and the only assistance you need is that of a lawyer. In light of new evidence, I’m taking you down to the station now to give your statement. I suggest you call a lawyer.”

  “I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t need a lawyer,” I protested.

  “Get a lawyer, Goldie,” Max said. “You want me to organise one?”

  “Thanks, but not yet. I’ll see what’s going on first,” I told him.

  Power got stood close to Thomas, his nose only inches from his. “What’s your name, address, and phone number? I need the name of your flight.”

  Thomas supplied the details and Power scribbled furiously on his notepad. “Don’t leave town.”

  As Power escorted me out the door, I heard Thomas mutter, “Who says that outside of movies?”

  Once more, I was in the back of a police vehicle being driven to the Lower Boomera police station. This was getting ridiculous. East Bucklebury was beginning to have as many deaths as one of my favourite TV shows, Midsomer Murders. What was going on? I had thought it was a quiet and sleepy seaside village, but it certainly was good for turning up corpses.

  I wondered whether, in fact, I should call a lawyer. I’d heard it said that the law didn’t have anything to do with justice, but in my case, I hoped that old adage wasn’t true. I was worried about engaging a lawyer due to the expenses involved in setting up my new business. I had rented an office in the main street of town. The rent was quite cheap, but I only had a limited amount of the inheritance to live on, until I brought in my own money. I didn’t want to be spending unnecessary money on a lawyer.

  The detectives did not speak on the way to the police station. My stomach rumbled loudly, but that was the least of my worries. When we arrived there, the desk sergeant said, “Interview Room Five is the only room that isn’t taken.”

  Power nodded in his direction and escorted me down the corridor.

  Interview Room Five was quite small. The wooden table was low and I felt as though I was back in school. The seats were low too, iron with a thin blue inset. The bottom of the room was two toned; the bottom half was sea green and the top half pale blue. It afforded an unpleasant clash, especially the way the light from solar panels played across it. I noticed the vermiculite ceiling. I was sure this type of ceiling contained asbestos.

  After I was seated, Power walked over to the large glass windows and shut the ancient venetian blinds.

  “Are you going to offer me coffee or something?” I said.

  Power looked doubtful, but then nodded to Walters who disappeared. I soon wished I hadn’t asked because the whole time Walters was away Power’s eyes bored into me. No doubt he thought it would make me feel disconcerted, and he was right.

  Still, it gave me time to come up with a good idea. I was a witch, so I would use spells to stop Power arresting me. A vinegar break-up bottle spell would be just the thing. The vinegar bottle would cause two people to break up, not just in the sense of relationships—although I was sure it would work for that too—but in the sense of getting toxic people out of one’s life.

  The vinegar bottle would get Power out of my life. He would keep away from me, and in theory at any rate, wouldn’t arrest me. I needed some personal concerns for that, so hair was my best option. I had no idea how I was going to get it.

  Walters returned and set a polystyrene cup in front of me. I took a sip and then grimaced. It was hot and it contained caffeine, but that was all it had in its favour. It tasted horribly acidic. I mean, I like my coffee, but not that strong.

  A smug look passed over Detective Power’s face in the dying glow of the flickering fluorescent light overhead. “This interview is being tape-recorded. It may be used in evidence if your case is brought before a court. The interview is at Lower Boomera Police Station, and the time on my wristwatch is one-fifteen p.m.”

  I zoned out as his voice droned on and on.

  “I’m Detective Rick Power of Lower Boomera Police Station and the other police officer present is Detective John Walters also of Lower Boomera Police Station. Please state your full name for the record,” he concluded.

  “I’m Goldie Bloom.”

  “Thank you, Ms Bloom. If at any time during this interview, you want to speak with your solicitor, tell me. Just to caution you, you do not have to say anything, and anything that you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand that caution?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Tell me what happened today.”

  I went over the events as best I could.

  “And did you see the victim’s face?”

  “Yes, I did.” I shut my eyes and tried to get the memory out of my head.

  “You say you’ve never seen the man before, is that correct?”

  “Yes, I’ve never seen him before,” I confirmed.

  A slow smirk spread across Power’s face. “So then, why would he have this in his possession?” His tone was triumphant.

  I held my breath. Here came the evidence. Visions of needing an expensive lawyer flashed through my mind. I would have to sell everything and rent a room from Oleander, that is, if they allowed someone my age to live in a retirement home. Imagine that, in a retirement home decades before my time with Persnickle. I blinked back the tears threatening to fall.

  Power nodded to Walters who slid something encased in plastic across the table to me. “Look, but don’t touch,” Power admonished me.

  I bent over it.

  “Read it aloud.”

  I looked down at the bloodstained scrap of paper. “It just says ‘Goldie Bloom,’ and then there’s the address of Doug Greer’s house. Is this the evidence you said you have against me?” I scratched my head. I was entirely puzzled.

  Power’s face fell. “The victim was clutching a piece of paper with your name on it,” he said.

  “So?” I said, anger replacing my fear. “I’m the listing agent of the property for sale. The owner of the house, Doug Greer, said that man was a friend of his father’s. Obviously, the man was trying to track Doug’s father down. No doubt he googled it and found I was the real estate agent.”

  Power’s eyes narrowed and I wondered what he would say. After all, he arrested Oleander with so-called evidence just as spurious as this. Maybe I did need a lawyer after all.

  “Is that what you claim?” he said after an interval.

  “Claim?” I said. “It’s the truth. It’s
obvious, isn’t it? I don’t know the man. You can check my history all you like. Why don’t you follow up the lead that he was in that famous bank robbery in Sydney of 1955? Doug Greer told me the victim was in it with his father. They stole gold bullion. It’s obvious the man was there looking for the gold, and he obviously found the address because I had the house for sale. Doug said the house had never been for sale since it was built, and what’s more, his father changed his name.”

  “Don’t tell me how to do my job,” Power snapped.

  I stood up. “Is that all?”

  “Sit down! You’ll go when I tell you to go.”

  “Actually, I’m going now. If you don’t want me to go then you’ll have to arrest me. Do you wish to arrest me, Detective Power? Because if you do, I’m going to sue you for false arrest. Oleander could have sued you for false arrest, and think yourself lucky that she didn’t.” I folded my arms over my chest.

  Detective Power’s cheeks puffed up. His nose turned bright red and so did the rest of his face. Strange sounds emanated from his throat, and I wondered if he was having a heart attack. After what seemed an age, he said, “You can go—for now. But Ms Bloom, don’t leave town. I’ll be keeping my eye on you.” He wagged his finger at me as he stepped closer to me.

  “Mosquito!” I yelled, as I reached for Power’s hair and pulled out a strand.

  “Ouch!” he shrieked.

  Maybe I had pulled out one strand too many. I held my hand behind me. “Sorry. It was a huge mosquito,” I said. “Huge!”

  Power stood there, rooted to the spot, his jaw hanging open.

  After that, I hurried out of the interview room before Power decided to arrest me for assault.

  It was only when I got back to the waiting room that I realised they had given me a lift there and I had no way to get home. A taxi all the way back to East Bucklebury was going to cost me a fortune. I didn’t want to eat into my diminishing funds, but I had no choice. I pulled my phone out of my handbag, but as soon as I did, I heard my name called. It seemed to be echoing.