She was my angel---my caring angel and my love for her that morning absolutely overwhelmed me.
Her kindness, her goodness, her care and her selflessness flowed all around me, and I was determined to see again but, in the end, that didn’t control me. Tessa and I couldn’t have been happier, despite the handicap.
When she came out to check on me, I took her in my arms and kissed her…for a long time. She knew. She kissed me back longer. Two lovers!
When we broke, she said, in that soft princess voice, ‘We are doing well, sir knight, and I have never loved or admired you more. That’s what that was about. No?’
‘Yes!’
26.
She knew me so well, confined as I was in that single dark room. She worked hard at helping me see things inside and outside and I worked hard at seeing them.
There were times when my patience wore thin, but this angel deserved nothing but gratitude and love and I’m proud to say that I never once became the surly Police Inspector that I could become.
She knew me so well.
One evening, sitting on our balcony with our evening drinks, I heard her glass set on the table and then she took mine and put it on the table. Her sweet voice said, ‘Brace yourself, my love. I’m going to do some lap-dancing.’ This was her version of sitting on my lap to make some momentous announcement.
‘I want to buy us a cattle station further north. Not a big one, but that’s where you need to be, and I need to be there with you. May I ask Dennis and Jim Leslie to find one for us, near a town and not far from transport, and perhaps near the sea, where we can swim? We haven’t swum in the ocean for a long time. May I ask them? Then we’ll go and have a look.’
She knew me so well. I’d been thinking of that, but backed off the burdens that would impose on her.
And the words, ‘then we’ll go and have a look’ were not as silly as might appear. Now, I was seeing a lot through her eyes and her descriptions were great. She was now my eyes, and my heart and my soul.
Soon after I was blinded and we were settling into our different life together, I could sense, one night, that a full moon was shining. In our marriage we’d kept up our sharing of our moon, begun in the jillaroo days, and on this particular night, I sat up in bed, certain that the moon was shining through the window, onto us.
Tessa jerked awake, a little alarmed.
‘The moon, darling! It’s here, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is. Our moon. Can you see it? Is something happening?’
‘I’m sorry, but no. But it’s a comfort. Drink it in for me, darling.’
We lay together awake for a long time that night and then I said to her, ‘That terrible day, sweetheart, tell me what happened.’
‘I’ve been waiting for this. You got to the building with your pistol. They didn’t have a warning, darling, at least not a full one. Someone thought they’d seen him and suspected. They were just beginning the shut-down, apparently, but you were quick. Then they were just startled by you. You were lucky you weren’t shot by them. The doors on my section were closed fast, with thick glass doors, and, don’t ask me how this happened, but I heard you calling. Through those big glass doors. I was at a filing cabinet and I ducked down as the blast happened. It was gruesome. He was all over the door. Then I ran out and saw you, sitting against the fire door, flattened and covered with sooty stuff, some of it him, I think. I thought you were gone and I was ready to go with you. But they took you away and I spent the next four weeks beside you. No need for me to die. You were so strong that you were going to recover. The blindness came as quite a shock.’
She was going to die, if I had. How? No, Tessadonna. Never!
And I got another medal, for bravery. I wasn’t brave. I was trying to save my wife. But I accepted it, being invested at Government House, beautiful wife at my side, white cane, dark glasses and Police uniform and all.
Each day Tessa described to me what she was wearing and how she was dressing me. This particularly applied on occasions such as the investiture when I knew she’d be stunning. I was in my Police uniform with medals up. It all helped me to picture life with my wife.
The Governor was astonished to discover a real live European Princess living in Queensland so we were invited to Government House for dinner. I was relaxed now, because of Tessa’s training and never made an error, although I knew Tess did a few things around me, probably to protect the Vice-Regal settings.
There were questions, the obvious ones about me and Tess, and that took care of the dinner conversation for the rest of the night. Tessadonna told them our whole story, and was listened to in silence. Not a question! Nobody knew what to say, so we went home.
‘Did I talk too much, darling? They were all very quiet.’
I took her in my arms and said, ‘I’d say, just about the right amount, Your Royal Highness. And you didn’t say haff once.’
****
We drove to a town called Beaufort, some distance north of Brisbane, inland a bit and not far from the sea. We were excited and a light-heartedness entered our souls that had not been there before. This was our first time. Dennis and Jim had described it to me, so we bought it, sight unseen, so to speak.
Tessa pulled up at a supermarket in the town to stock up on supplies. I delayed and she said, ‘Come, Bart. I’ve got lots to buy and I need a big strong man to help me, even if he can’t see. Out of the car, mate!’
I knew my way around the store in Brisbane but this was strange territory and she was relentless. I pushed the trolley and she led it. She was right, it was nearly overflowing when we crossed the car-park and she kept up a running commentary of guidance. We didn’t have any collisions, but, she said later, we went close. It was all part of Tessa’s program of pushing Bart to independence and confidence.
When we got to our gate, she stopped, got out, broke off a gum twig and crushed the leaves under my nose, and then gave me a big kiss.
‘I think we’re home, Bart.’
We had an aboriginal stockman and his wife as staff. They lived in a cabin, not far from the homestead. They were called Harold and Melda and they were waiting. Harold’s hand was as rough as the surface of an ironbark tree, when we shook. Melda sounded quiet and sweet.
Tessa shot off inside, leaving me standing with Harold, I think from my sensing of things. I think we were both at a bit of a loss, and then Tessa erupted from the house and said, ‘And this is how we guide him around, Harold and Melda. He prefers that he doesn’t crash into things. Bumping into them is ok but crashing, with possible injuries, is out.’
‘She’s joking, folks. Or I think she is. My wife has a sense of humour that not all understand.’
Tessa said, ‘Tomorrow night, dinner with us so we can get to know each other better, and my beloved can show off his blind man’s table skills. He’s amazing!’
It must have been a big thing for these two bush people--- a blind owner and a Princess who was the most beautiful girl in the world. I wish I could have seen their faces.
And we began a new life in our beloved bush. The jillaroo thing had not been a flight of fancy. She really did love Australia and its bush. She was now transformed—the Tessa of the jillaroo days--- bright and very happy.
We had no cattle yet but, on the way into the town and then out again, I could pick up their smell. Soon we’d stock up.
Tessadonna and I were excited. She soon had me on a horse, which Harold had carefully selected. He was called Pedro and he sensed my disability, as horses can, and he was very good with me. Not hesitant, but sometimes, I thought, making another decision on my behalf. Tessa watched and wondered.
I found my way around the close confines of the house and once again we had a daily 4 pm riding appointment, moving further and further out, my knowing where we were by means of Tessa’s non-stop travelogue and me eventually remembering the topography.
She had to go to town regularly and I wandered the house and stockyards and I knew that my friends were keeping a d
istant eye on me. At the right time, and I was rarely wrong, I walked down to the gate to meet Tessa. We didn’t over-analyse it all. It just happened.
We bought a few cattle as the nucleus of a herd and life on the property had some meaning.
One night, Tessa commented, to our surprise, that we hadn’t given our new home a name. It didn’t take long.
We called it Corrigan Cattle. We drank a little too much champagne that night, sitting up in bed and very happy. Nobody was hurt in the celebrations.
****
‘Darling, today in town I met the local Police inspector. In fact he sought me out. His name’s Jim Toomey and he wants to meet you. You’re famous, Inspector, and he wonders whether I could bring you in to the station in Beaufort so they can talk to you about your methods. I have other things to do so, how about it?’
‘Of course. But you won’t be far away, and long away, will you?’
‘I’m yours, darling. I won’t leave you for long.’
So she put me in the hands of the Police and departed, not saying what other business she had. No matter, I’d winkle it out of her later.
The Police were hospitable. There were about 15 present, I was told, so we started to talk cases that I’d had, and which they knew about. There was great interest in the Taylors and, trying to be modest, I described how I’d used their great love for each other against them.
We talked of other crimes, even venturing to my days in the Stock Squad.
Inspector Toomey mentioned that they’d just picked up a case which might interest me--- a missing wife--- but I was beginning to wonder where Tessa was and asked for another session next week.
We broke up and there was Tessadonna waiting outside. She took my hand and kissed me on the cheek and we walked to the car. Her skin temperature, the general warmth of her, and the nature of the kiss interested me. As I went to get in the car she put her arms around my neck and gave me a very warm and mouthy kiss.
She walked around and into the car, leaned across and gave me another kiss.
‘I’ve missed you, sir knight. But we should be apart occasionally.’
She drove fast and we were both silent.
At the property, I got out and opened the gate, and then closed it, and I was barely in the car again before she set off up the drive.
She took me by the hand, led me up the steps to our bedroom, again gave me a warm kiss, began to undress me, pushed me down on the bed and said, ‘Bart, I’m pregnant!’
The next minutes together were wonderful and then we lay in bed and talked.
‘There’s no doubt and everything’s fine. Couldn’t be better, in fact. Now, handsome, do we go to Brisbane or do we stay here? I like the doctor here, but we have a precious little human, don’t we? Perhaps it would be safer to go to Brisbane.’
‘How far down the track?’
‘Three months, darling. I suspected, but stayed quiet until I was sure.’
‘I think Brisbane. Would Sophie come to help?’
‘She’d be insulted not to be asked, but not straight away. This is our time so let’s spend it closely together, just enjoying the thought of the little person and each other. I want lots and lots of sex before we have to stop. I want lots and lots of you.’
She jumped off the bed and danced around the room, wonderfully naked, she said, and then threw herself on top of me.
‘We’ll soon be complete, my beloved, pushing away all the things that want to spoil things for us. They can’t can they, Barton? We are Tessa and Barton, Barton and Tessa, from Corrigan Cattle and nothing can get in our way!’
‘Nothing can get in our way, Princess.’
27.
We planned to head to our unit in due course and then ask Sophie to come to us. But a problem had developed in the unit complex and it would be some weeks before we could move back in.
No matter, Tess was in good hands and things were going well.
And it gave the Police in Beaufort a chance to put before me the case that was bothering them.
Radna Kanovski was a Polish woman who’d headed out to Australia after the Cold War, established a fairly big cattle farm outside Beaufort and married a local man. They had three sons. Radna was pretty tough and took over the running of the property herself. Too tough for her husband, who took off over the hills and was never seen again after being spotted driving fast to the main road. Radna and the boys, and eventually their wives, ran the property, and ran it very profitably.
But she was dominant and the word around town was that the marriages were unhappy because the overbearing Radna controlled things right down to how to thread a needle. Two of the girls took it, but the youngest, Eleanour, married to Peter, was feisty and stood up to her mother-in-law. There were scenes in town.
One day, Peter came to the Police Station and reported Eleanour as missing. She’d run away, he thought.
Jim Toomey, a very astute Policeman, and conscious of the troubles among the Kanovskis, didn’t think so. They brought Radna in for questioning. I was invited to join the party down the line a bit. She was very aggressive and did her best to have me ejected, but then gave in, saying, ‘Oh, he’s blind. A crippled man can’t be of any use but if you want him, then have him!’
They offered a lawyer but she sneered at that. She was well capable of handling some bush Police, she said. She needed no thieving lawyer.
She almost spat out her replies to questions. I stayed silent and just listened.
It is almost folklore that, when a person goes blind, their other senses develop to compensate. Well, I’m here to tell you that it’s true. One of my strengths as a detective had been my sensitivity to the reactions of people under questioning. Somehow I could tell!
Now I was supersensitive and I listened to Radna carefully and I picked up things. We stopped for coffee and I dictated the questions I’d like asked of her.
When we resumed she became more and more stressed but then would make a huge effort, obvious to me, to be calm. She was good. She seemed in control after the first outburst but not to me. I think she might have had a tough time in Poland and that had hardened her. We talked of Eleanour and her rebellious ways. Radna denied that, until evidence of some public disagreements in town was produced. The Police had had to intervene. She couldn’t deny them.
‘She would not help on the farm. She wanted to be a shop girl in town and that’s all. At week-ends she would not work. She read and watched television. She was a rubbish girl. He was well rid of her!’
He was well rid of her!!
That was enough for today. She left in her four-wheel drive truck.
We gathered for a conference.
I said, ‘I think she’s killed Eleanour, but she’s very good. Finding the body will be difficult. My bet is that it’s on the property but it could take years. Let’s all think about it.’
A Uniform drove me to Corrigan Cattle and my bride was waiting for me at the gate.
It was a wonderful time--- we were going to have a child and my brain was tuning up. I had to tell Tessa every detail of my day.
****
I told Tessa that the main task now was to find a decaying body and that I wanted her nowhere near the investigation, and she speedily agreed. I wanted my pregnant wife serene and calm.
So a Policeman picked me up each day when a conference was planned or when Radna was to be interviewed, and brought me home each night, with Tessa waiting at the gate.
Radna was tough, no doubt about it. Eleanour had disappeared about six months before. We brought in the family, one by one, and questioned them pretty hard. Peter was the weak link and was very nervous, from the wavering strength of his voice when being questioned. His breathing was erratic.
But we concentrated on Radna and she got more and more annoyed, almost savage at times. She targeted me—the blind one.
‘Are you dumb as well as blind, or is blind enough? I can’t believe you were a cop and I don’t know what you’re doing here. Got a wife? Then
go home to her although I can’t believe she misses you! Dumb and blind. She must hate you.’
Nice!
I was as sure as I could be that Eleanour was buried on their property, but I wasn’t a Policeman so I had no authority. I could only suggest.
I suggested to the group that they get a warrant to search the property and that brought an amazed response. It was a big place.
‘Not if we take it thoughtfully. Put yourself in her place and look for the best burial place. It won’t be far from the road, because they wouldn’t have taken the chance on being discovered carrying a body, and a felon won’t pile the spoil up over the grave, as at a cemetery, to allow for sinkage. They go flat and that means, by now, there’ll be a sinkage depression. So pick the most likely place, look for a grave shaped sinkage, beside some rocks preferably, or under some. They’ll be sinking too. And not far from a road or track. That’s important. Look around the family houses and sheds. And then someone please just walk me around the most likely place. And then we bring in the cadaver dogs.’
It took a week with Police and State Emergency service officers but Jim Toomey was fairly confident that they’d found the grave. They kept the Kanovskis away from the site. He took me out to it so I treated them to Bart Corrigan crawling around, feeling what he couldn’t see. They watched in silence. It felt right but I was guessing. They brought the cadaver dog out and he reacted.
‘Dig her up’, ordered Jim.
I said, ‘No, please, Jim. Leave her be! I want to try some psychology on Radna, tonight when she’s a bit tired. Let’s go in to the station and bring her in for questioning. Trust me, please?’
That was done and I got the treatment from her again. But she was tired alright. I pushed her hard in the interview room and then we took a break. And now for our little performance.
We left Radna in the room with a cup of tea and a woman constable. But somebody carelessly left the door ajar. And Jim and I had a disagreement outside the room, in the corridor.
The Princess and the Cop Page 18
