Voices and the crash of doors woke Caleb from a fitful sleep. He glanced at his watch and estimated he’d only been asleep an hour, if that. He swung his legs off the bench and went to the gate.
Footsteps and the rattling of keys sounded beyond the outer door and it opened.
‘Take your hand off me, you great oaf,’ said a familiar voice with a Yorkshire lilt.
‘Netty!’ Caleb said.
‘It’s true? He’s got you here?’ Netty said. ‘Looks like we’ve both got something to thank our Mr Barnwell for next time we see him.’
‘In here, Miss Redley, if you’ll please.’ O’Grady opened the second cell door and made to grab her arm.
She shook off his hand and marched into the cell.
The police constable shut and locked the door.
‘O’Grady, this is madness. What is going to be accomplished by locking us up?’ Caleb said.
‘Told you. I don’t want you running off.’
‘I’ve given you my word as a gentleman, I will not be running anywhere. I have patients who need me. There’s a child down at the Italian settlement. I promised I would return in the morning.’
O’Grady tugged at his moustache. ‘I heard about the little lass down at the Eyeties,’ he said. ‘I’m only doing my duty, doctor. When morning comes, I’ll fetch one of the JPs and we’ll see to the charges.’
‘Fetch them now!’ Caleb demanded.
O’Grady shook his head. ‘I’m not disturbing important folks in their beds. It can wait till morning.’
Caleb hit the bars of his cell as the outer door shut behind the policeman. ‘Idiot!’ he shouted. He leaned his head against the cool bars and swore volubly.
‘There’s a lady present,’ Netty said.
‘What charges has he brought against you?’
Netty sighed heavily and said, ‘I don’t know what Adelaide’s told you about Barnwell.’
‘Everything. I know that Barnwell is Danny’s father.’
Netty grunted. ‘When she ran away from her father’s house, we took her mother’s jewellery—it was hers to take. Somehow Barnwell’s managed to get hold of statements from Miss Adelaide’s father and a jeweller in York that makes it sound like I’m guilty of thieving the jewellery. You?’
‘I broke his nose last night.’
‘Pity it was only his nose.’
‘I should have hit him harder.’
In the long silence that followed, he could hear Netty’s breathing.
When she spoke again, her voice was tight with emotion. ‘I’m scared for Adelaide. She’s on her own.’
Caleb leaned his head against the cold, unyielding rock of his cell. ‘So am I. He’s planning something and he wanted us out of the way.’ Beyond the wall of his cell, Netty sniffed and he summoned a confidence he did not feel. ‘Maidment is a sensible man. We’ll sort this out in the morning. He’ll see the charges are nonsense. Give me your hand.’
He reached through the bars, his hand seeking hers. She grasped his fingers and they stood for a moment, grateful for the touch of another human being.
Thirty-Three
16 February 1872
Caught between the oppressive heat and his excitement, Danny slept fitfully, waking to the familiar sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen.
He sprang from his bed and packed his schoolbag with all the things a successful explorer would need on a quest to find bushranger’s gold: a candle and tinderbox, Caleb’s knife, a hank of rope, a flask of water and the remains of the day’s bread along with a lump of hard cheese that he had secreted from the kitchen after Mama and Netty had finished for the night.
He found his mother in the kitchen watching a boiling pot of water in which their breakfast eggs rattled.
She looked around and glanced at the clock on the kitchen shelf. ‘You’re early,’ she said.
Danny mumbled something about being too hot to sleep and asked where Netty was.
‘She had some urgent business,’ his mother replied, setting a boiled egg with a buttered slice of yesterday’s bread in front of him.
Danny bolted his breakfast, picked up his satchel and headed for the door.
‘Danny, you are going to be the first at school,’ Adelaide said. ‘Wait for me. I’ll walk with you.’
Danny avoided his mother’s eyes as he said, ‘It’s all right, Mama. I promised I’d help Mr Emerton set something up this morning. You don’t need to walk with me.’ And after the previous day’s teasing, the last thing he wanted was his mother trailing after him.
He never lied to her and he had an uncomfortable feeling that she would immediately spot the falsehood, but she dropped a kiss on his forehead and stood on the doorstep to watch as he scampered around the side of the house.
He hurried up the main street, feeling more than a stab of guilt as he passed the schoolhouse, which at this hour still sat silent and dark. He could see Mr Emerton moving in the front room of the school teacher’s cottage, but he didn’t slacken his pace until he passed the burned ruins of the Murray house and the Chinese gardens.
He rounded a corner and the stand of gums loomed in front of him. Uncle Richard waited in the shadows with two horses, a bay mare and the sturdy black pony with the white star that Danny had ridden when Caleb took them up to the Shenandoah Mine.
‘Ready to go, Daniel?’ Uncle Richard smiled as he handed him the reins to the pony.
Danny nodded. It struck him that Uncle Richard seemed rather oddly dressed for such an adventure, in a heavy tweed wool jacket and pants. With the northerly wind blowing down the valley, he would be very hot before they got far.
‘Where are we going?’ Danny asked.
Uncle Richard produced a paper from his pocket and consulted it. ‘Aberfeldy,’ he said.
Danny frowned. ‘Aberfeldy? That’s a long way. Are you sure you know the way?’
Uncle Richard smiled, but again it seemed to Danny that his eyes didn’t echo it. ‘I’m quite sure,’ he said.
The acrid smell of the smoke that had been blowing through the town for the last two days seemed stronger and once they had climbed to the ridge above the town, Danny could see a thick plume rising above the mountain ridges. He had lived in the bush nearly all his life and he knew a serious bushfire when he saw one.
He shifted uneasily in his saddle. ‘Uncle Richard,’ he said. ‘I don’t think this is a good idea. There’s a bushfire ahead of us.’
‘Nonsense,’ the man replied. ‘I asked about it and they assured me we would be quite safe.’
An hour outside town, they met Sergeant Maidment, Constable Prewitt and two other Maiden’s Creek men.
Maidment stopped them. ‘Mr Barnwell,’ he said, his gaze moving to Danny. ‘May I enquire where you are going?’
‘Just out for a ride,’ Uncle Richard replied with a smile. ‘Heading back to England soon and young Daniel wanted to show me some of the countryside.’
‘I’d advise you to turn back. The bushfire’s moving fast and we expect it will cut the Aberfeldy Road just a few miles north of here.’
‘Thank you for your advice, sergeant,’ Uncle Richard replied.
‘You better come back with us,’ Maidment insisted.
Uncle Richard looked at his watch. ‘We’ll go on a bit further, have an early lunch and head straight back,’ he said. ‘No need to worry the lad’s mother.’
Maidment nodded and his party set out at a fast pace.
Danny turned the pony’s head back towards Maiden Creek.
Uncle Richard caught his reins. ‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m going home,’ Danny said. ‘You heard Mr Maidment, it’s too dangerous to go on.’
‘Nonsense. I’m not going to let him spoil our adventure. We’ll go on a bit further.’
‘But what about the fire?’
Uncle Richard scowled. ‘With luck, we will miss it. I want to be at Aberfeldy by nightfall.’
Danny jerked his pony’s reins. ‘Aberfeldy? I don’t underst
and …’
All the good humour had drained from Uncle Richard’s face. He snatched up Danny’s reins and kicked his own horse into a trot, leaving Danny with no option but to cling on to his pony and follow.
The clanging of the fire bell echoed around the valley, drowning out the beat of the mine’s battery. Adelaide looked up from serving Mrs Jervis. She had only heard it once before, when a fire had last threatened Maiden’s Creek three years ago. It meant only one thing: every able-bodied man and boy was required, and the women too would be called on to defend their town and their homes.
‘The fire’s heading this way?’
Mrs Jervis nodded. ‘I heard Sergeant Maidment telling my husband he thought it would cut off the Aberfeldy Road by early afternoon.’
‘And with this wind it will come straight down the valley,’ Adelaide said. ‘Will we have to evacuate?’
Mrs Jervis shrugged. ‘I already have a few things packed and ready to go in case we need to go up to the mine.’
With the road north cut off and the difficulties of getting out by the Shady Creek Road to the south, the Maiden’s Creek Mine with its long tunnel was the only safe place in case of fire. Her thoughts flew to Caleb and Netty, incarcerated in the police cells. She had to get them out.
Adelaide shut and locked the door after the bank manager’s wife and hurried up the busy main street to the police station. In one corner of the crowded front office, Constable Prewitt was handing out sheets of paper. Constable O’Grady was behind the desk, fending off enquiries about the safety of the town.
Adelaide pushed her way to the front. ‘Where’s Sergeant Maidment?’
O’Grady looked up. ‘He’s down at the bank, meeting with the town council.’
‘I want to see Dr Hunt and Miss Redley,’ she demanded.
O’Grady scowled. ‘We’re busy, Mrs Greaves. Come back later.’
‘But—’ Her protest went unregarded as a man cut in with a query about blankets.
As Adelaide passed him, Prewitt pushed his hat to the back of his head and scratched his nose. ‘Has that lad of yours come home yet?’
Adelaide stared at him. ‘What do you mean? Have they shut the school?’
Prewitt frowned. ‘We met him and that English bloke on the Aberfeldy Road, heading north. We told him they were heading straight into the fire, but Barnwell reckoned they was just out for a ride and they’d have an early lunch and come straight back.’
Despite the heat, Adelaide shivered as all her worst premonitions came to pass. ‘When was this?’
‘Reckon an hour or more ago. They were already a good hour’s ride out of town when we saw ’em. They should be back soon.’
Adelaide thanked the policeman and ran to the school.
She found Mr Emerton in the process of dismissing the children early so they could get to their homes. She stood watching the school as the children filed out but could not see Danny. She hurried across to the schoolmaster.
‘Where’s Daniel?’ she enquired.
Mr Emerton frowned. ‘Daniel? He didn’t come to school today. I thought you’d kept him at home.’
Adelaide’s stomach clenched. ‘No. He left early. He told me he was helping you set something up.’
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Greaves, I’ve not seen him all day.’
Adelaide turned and ran back down the street, her fear growing with every step. The proprietor of The Empress, Mrs Riordan, was sweeping out the front hall as Adelaide entered that establishment.
‘Which room is Mr Barnwell’s?’ Adelaide demanded.
‘Number 2 at the top of the stairs, but—’
Without waiting to hear the proprietress’s protestations, Adelaide hurried up the stairs. She banged on the door that bore a neat brass number 2.
‘Stop that infernal racket.’ Mrs Riordan had followed her up the stairs. ‘He’s not there. I could have told you that, if you’d stopped to listen.’
Adelaide turned on her. ‘Has he left Maiden’s Creek?’
The woman nodded. ‘He finalised his account last night and left at first light this morning, with orders to send his baggage down to Melbourne on the next coach.’
‘Where did he go?’ Adelaide demanded, the sickening feeling in her stomach worsening.
‘He said he was hiring a horse to get to Shady Creek. That’s all I know.’ Her mouth tightened. ‘With the fire heading this way, that was probably sensible.’
Adelaide thanked the woman and apologised for the urgency without offering explanation. Patsy Riordan was a notorious gossip.
Outside, Adelaide turned towards the livery stable. She found Sones and Amos Burrell in earnest conversation, the Shady Creek coach in a corner of the yard. Whatever method Richard had chosen to leave town it hadn’t been by coach.
Amos whipped his battered hat off his red curls and greeted her. ‘Missus, everything all right?’
She shook her head and addressed the livery stable owner. ‘Mr Sones, have you seen Mr Barnwell or my son today?’
‘Mr Barnwell hired two of my beasts first thing this morning. The bay mare and the pony, the one your boy likes to ride.’
‘Do you know where they’ve gone?’
Sones shook his head. ‘Said he was just going out for a ride.’ He frowned. ‘Funny thing, though—he was askin’ me if there were another way to get to Melbourne from here if he didn’t want to go back through Shady Creek. I told him the best way was to go north through Aberfeldy and Woods Point and cut down to Jamieson.’
Nausea rose in Adelaide’s throat. Once the hue and cry went up in town about a missing child, a northerly route into the high country and down through the settlements on the plains would be a better way of avoiding suspicion than taking the more populous route back through Shady Creek. She lurched and Amos caught her arm.
‘What’s ’appened?’
Adelaide pushed her hair back from her sweat-slicked forehead. ‘It’s my Danny … Richard Barnwell’s got him. I have to go after them, Amos.’
‘Got ’im? What do you mean? ’e’s kidnapped ’im?’ Amos said.
Adelaide nodded. ‘I think he lured Danny into playing truant this morning. They’re heading for Aberfeldy.’
She turned to look towards the north where thick plumes of smoke were visible above the hills. Burned leaves were falling around them, driven in on the wind. Somewhere between Maiden’s Creek and the approaching fire front was her son.
‘They are going straight into the bushfire.’
Amos glanced at Sones. ‘When did Barnwell leave?’
‘Three or four hours ago, at least.’
Amos pulled his ear. ‘That’s a big ’ead start.’
Sones pushed his hat to the back of his head. ‘I told him it was not a good day to be travelling, but he’d not be told.’
Amos shrugged his big shoulders. ‘If they’ve any sense, they’re probably on their way back already,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t worry, missus.’
‘I don’t have time for this.’ Adelaide said. ‘Please saddle my horse, Sones.’
The livery man frowned. ‘If that’s what you want.’
Amos frowned. ‘You aren’t planning to go after them?’
‘Of course I am.’ Her voice rose in her anxiety.
‘You can’t go alone. Where’s the doc?’
‘He’s in a cell in the police station, along with Netty. Barnwell put them there. Amos …’
At the mention of his beloved’s name, Amos’s placid countenance darkened. ‘He’s done what to my Netty? We’ll just have to get ’em out then.’ Taking Adelaide by the elbow, he steered her out into the street. ‘We’ll be back for the ’orse, Sones.’
A large crowd had now gathered outside the police station, equipped with blankets, mops, spades and buckets and anything else that might be useful in fighting a fire. Women hovered on the edge of the crowd, talking in low, anxious voices, their arms crossed. A table had been placed on the police station’s verandah and Prewitt was bent over a map in earnest
discussion with several other men.
O’Grady looked up from laying out stacks of canvas bags as Amos and Adelaide entered the front room.
‘O’Grady, you idiot,’ Amos growled. ‘If you’ve an ounce of sense, you’d let this town’s only doctor out. ’e’ll be needed.’
O’Grady straightened. ‘I don’t have the authority to let him out.’
‘Where’s Sergeant Maidment?’ Adelaide demanded.
‘He’s here.’ Maidment’s lanky figure entered the police station, removing his cap. He wiped his forehead and pushed the thinning hair back. ‘What’s the problem, Mrs Greaves? We’ve got an emergency on our hands.’
‘You’re holding Dr Hunt and Miss Redley in your cells,’ Adelaide said.
Maidment glanced at O’Grady. ‘What? Why?’
‘Haven’t had time to brief you, sarge,’ O’Grady said. ‘Mr Barnwell came in last evening and laid charges, insisted they be arrested.’
‘What on earth for?’
‘Assault and theft.’ O’Grady outlined the charges against Caleb and Netty.
‘If Dr Hunt hit Barnwell, he had good cause,’ Adelaide said. ‘And as for the charge against Miss Redley, the jewellery that she is accused of stealing was my jewellery. I asked her to sell it for me.’
This was too much for O’Grady. His face screwed up as he tried to understand the evidence that was shifting under his feet. ‘You was—’
‘I was—am—the daughter of Sir Daniel Lewis. The jewellery was left to me by my mother. It was mine to sell.’
‘That’s as may be, Mrs Greaves, but Mr Barnwell—’
‘Mr Barnwell is no longer in Maiden’s Creek,’ Sergeant Maidment said. ‘I passed him north of the town a couple of hours ago and he has your son with him.’
Adelaide drew herself up to her full height. ‘Constable Prewitt told me. Why didn’t you insist they turn back?’
‘I was in a hurry to get back to town—I didn’t have time to stop and argue. Besides, the man assured me they were just out for a ride and would eat lunch and turn back. I’m sorry, Mrs Greaves, I didn’t think there was anything untowards.’
Adelaide shook her head. ‘Sergeant, he has kidnapped my son, and all of these trumped-up charges are to buy time to allow him to get away.’
The Postmistress Page 27
