Ill-Gotten Gains

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Ill-Gotten Gains Page 14

by Evans, Ilsa


  ‘Good. And they’re gorgeous.’ I passed the wallet back as the phone rang. ‘Excuse me.’

  Amber diplomatically removed herself to the far end of the room as I perched on a bar stool to answer the phone. It bumped against the top of my collar.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Nell. It’s me.’

  ‘Ah, I was expecting a call. Have you heard from your daughters then?’

  ‘I certainly have,’ replied Darcy in an aggrieved tone. ‘I thought we agreed that I would tell them my news. Being that it’s my news?’

  ‘Actually, you asked me not to say anything and I didn’t reply. That’s not the same as an agreement. Besides, I didn’t tell them. Petra did.’

  ‘Then you told her.’

  ‘That’s true, but you didn’t ask that I not tell anyone. I need to have someone to talk to. Or are you telling me that you don’t discuss anything with Tessa?’

  ‘Of course I do! But she’s my …’ He had the grace to peter off at this point before finishing lamely. ‘It’s different.’

  ‘Ah, so I have to be sleeping with someone to be able to tell them stuff.’ I twisted awkwardly to check that Amber was still over the other side of the room. ‘Okay, I’ll bear that in mind.’

  ‘There’s no need to be sarcastic. These are our daughters. If you asked me not to tell them something, I wouldn’t. That’s all I’m saying.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘You know what else? You’re so busy setting up camp in the moral high ground that you won’t admit for a minute that you might not be perfect either. Too fond of painting me as the villain.’

  ‘Oh my god, you are so right,’ I said agreeably. ‘We’re absolutely as bad as each other. In a moment when I was incapacitated with pain, I witnessed my sister divulge information that she shouldn’t have, while you slept with other women and then deserted your family. You’re right, that makes us absolutely even.’

  Silence fell, although I could hear his breathing. After a few moments he sighed, a sound that seemed to envelop my ear. I flinched.

  ‘You mean from your car accident? How are you?’

  ‘Fine. Thank you for asking.’ Gusto pattered into the room, looked around and then came over to nuzzle his snout against my leg. I ran my hand through his fur.

  ‘You should look after that car better.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll put a sign on it asking that no-one cut the brake lines.’

  ‘You don’t seriously think that someone deliberately cut them, do you?’ I could hear the frown in his words. ‘I thought the police were just being careful. What with Sam Emerson and Ned. I couldn’t believe that. Poor buggers.’

  ‘Poor buggers indeed. Did the girls tell you their news?’

  ‘Yes! Christ almighty. Have you met him? This Matthew bloke?’

  I pushed Gusto away. ‘Matthew’s lovely, and they’re lovely together. It’s Lucy I’m more worried about.’

  ‘Lucy? Why?’

  I froze, and then thought quickly. ‘Ah, just generally. You know.’

  ‘God, Nell.’ He laughed. ‘You always have to find something to worry about, don’t you? Here’s Scarlet with this amazing news and you have to shift focus to create problems where there aren’t any. Luce’ll be fine; she just needs time to work out what she wants. Give her a few more months and I bet she’ll find her feet.’

  ‘A few more months and she won’t be able to see her feet,’ I replied, but with my hand over the mouthpiece so that Darcy couldn’t hear.

  ‘I have to say Scarlet threw me for a loop though,’ Darcy continued chattily. ‘Not sure how you feel but I’m not ready to be a grandparent! Especially not with … you know.’

  ‘I know.’ I stared at the kitchen cupboards. There was a splatter of something grey and glumpy across one of them. It looked like cereal, or brain matter. Most likely cereal.

  ‘Tell you one thing, Nell, I can’t quite get my head around it. Any of it. Christ.’

  ‘You and me both.’ I took a deep breath, wondering how I could end this conversation before Darcy started using me as a sounding board or, even worse, began reminiscing about our own children’s infancy. As if attuned to my need, the phone began emitting a series of beeps. ‘Sorry, Darcy, but there’s someone trying to get through. I’ll have to go.’

  ‘Oh, okay. Well, no doubt we can catch up over the weekend. We’ll be down on Friday.’

  ‘Looking forward to it.’ I pressed end briskly and picked up the other call. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hey,’ said Ashley.

  ‘Hey.’ I swivelled my stool so that I could see Amber. She was checking her mobile, one finger deftly flicking at the screen. It occurred to me that I was speaking to yet another man I’d slept with. All I needed was for Ferris Buttafuoco to ring the doorbell and I’d have a hat-trick.

  ‘How are you getting on with your protective detail?’

  ‘Lovely, thank you. But are you sure they’re necessary?’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ replied Ashley frankly. ‘But there’s no doubt your car was tampered with, so until we discover who’s responsible, we have to take precautions. Hopefully we find out it’s some young idiot.’

  ‘Oh yes. That’d be a relief.’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ he said with a laugh, and then continued in a more serious tone. ‘I wanted to ask you a few questions. I know your statement says you thought you’d heard someone at the cemetery, but I just want you to think for a moment, are you sure there were no cars in the car park? Either when you got there or when you left?’

  ‘None. Just me.’

  ‘What about on the way home? Did you pass anyone, even a car on the side of the road? Anything like that?’

  I frowned. ‘Not that I can remember, but then I wasn’t really looking. Sorry.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ he sighed. ‘Oh well, worth asking. I’m due a break in this case.’

  ‘Are you not making much progress? What about with Sam and Ned?’

  He sighed again. ‘Not as much as I’d like. Which is another reason I rang. You mentioned that Sam was working on something for you, and that’s why he rang that night.’

  ‘Ah.’ I smiled. ‘So now the detective sergeant wants to hear my theory?’

  ‘Given the possibility that your … accident might be connected, yes, it does seem prudent to consider all possible angles.’

  ‘Well, well, well. I tell you what, I’ll trade you. Tell me who else Sam Emerson rang the evening he died and I’ll give you everything I have.’

  ‘You do realise I could have you arrested for withholding information? Besides, it won’t help; we’ve already ruled him out. He has an alibi.’

  ‘James Sheridan.’ I waited for confirmation and then realised that the silence was confirmation itself. ‘So, apart from Loretta and me, he was it? No-one else?’

  ‘No-one. Now for my part.’

  ‘Hang on. What about the landline? And Ned’s phone?’

  ‘Landline hadn’t been used, and Ned only used his to order two takeaway meals from the pub. And before you race down there interrogating the staff, it’s a dead end. My turn.’

  ‘Okay.’ I filed the information away for later. ‘But I’ve got a better idea – why don’t you join me this evening?’

  ‘Nell …’

  I slid off the bar stool and glanced over at Amber, who was watching me with interest. She immediately dropped her eyes to her mobile. I lowered my voice. ‘No, not that. I’m meeting a few friends who have been researching exactly what it was that Sam was looking into. I’ll email you the background, what we’ve discovered thus far, and the address. Feel free to join us if you like.’

  ‘My god, you’re the bane of my existence. What part of “don’t get involved” did you not get? Christ, I’m tempted to tamper with your bloody car myself.’

  ‘Tamper away,’ I replied cheerfully. ‘It’s a write-off anyway. I’ll send you the address of the garage when I send you this other stuff. Let me know if you’re coming.’

&
nbsp; ‘Fine.’

  I hung up the phone and tugged down on my collar for some temporary relief. Gusto padded around to the kitchen and began licking the cupboards. Deb Taylor had said that it couldn’t possibly be James Sheridan because he was far more likely to bribe someone than kill them, and he would never risk his reputation, while Yen had said it simply wasn’t his style. But what if the Discovery threatened his reputation? What if bribery didn’t work? Wouldn’t he be more likely to pay someone else to get their hands dirty, thus enabling him to establish an ironclad alibi? He was the only person, other than Loretta, me and the order staff at the pub, who had been contacted that night. He also had motive, means and opportunity. Plus he was a politician. Enough said.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I can add a few more midlife superpowers to the ones in your column. Multi-tasking for starters, and of course having eyes in the back of our head. Then there’s the ability to find things that no-one else can. I bet even Superman occasionally flung stuff around the farmhouse while he yelled, ‘Mum, have you seen my blue tights?’

  Deb’s house was some way out of town, a ranch-style with a wide veranda that ran all the way around and had a ramp down to the pathway. Perfect for children on tricycles or skateboards; I would never have been able to keep my lot inside. April had now been replaced by a surly young constable who clearly considered guarding middle-aged women a waste of his valuable time. He parked ostentatiously in Deb’s driveway and then remained in the police car, which was probably just as well.

  Petra had barely touched the doorbell before Deb answered. She looked at me with concern as she ushered us inside. ‘Nell, you poor thing! That collar looks so uncomfortable! How are you feeling?’

  ‘Fine, fine,’ I replied shortly, a little weary of having my welfare questioned.

  ‘At least you don’t need to wear a scarf. And I’m not at all surprised. Not about them going so far, of course, but that it proves it’s all linked. I told you we’d have to be careful.’

  ‘Duly noted.’

  Still talking, Deb led us into the lounge room. It was a large room with sparse but tasteful furnishings. A laptop was open on the coffee table, connected to a data projector that faced a portable screen set up by the far wall. There was also a glass platter with wedges of cheese, stuffed olives and water crackers. ‘I knew that note didn’t ring true! I mean, if someone like Ned Given went to the bother of writing a note, then he’d include more information. Besides, It’s beyond me? That sounds more like he was given a task he wasn’t up to! What would you like to drink?’

  ‘Whatever you have,’ replied Petra with more than her usual enthusiasm.

  ‘I’ll bring a choice. Grab a seat anywhere you like. Just wait till you see what Lew’s been up to. You’ll be flabbergasted!’ Deb beamed at us and then bustled out, obviously enjoying herself. I wondered if she entertained often. I lowered myself onto on the couch then shuffled along so that I could face the screen directly. The front doorbell rang again and I felt a frisson of expectation.

  ‘This is going to be like one of those home video slideshows,’ whispered Petra gloomily. ‘I’ve already sat through one today at the funeral.’

  ‘Well, if you’d had more success there, this one wouldn’t be necessary.’

  ‘I am sorry. Fancy not being able to pick a culprit out of the crowd. Not a single person with a sign saying I did it.’ Petra dropped onto the couch and slumped her shoulders. ‘I can’t even drink much because I’m driving, and we have one policeman in the driveway and another about to join us here. Thanks, Nell, I owe you one.’

  ‘Well, perhaps you can spill another of my secrets. Would that help?’

  Petra was saved from answering by Deb, who re-entered the room in conversation with Ashley Armistead. I turned stiffly, just in time to see them followed by a man in a wheelchair. He was a blond giant, even seated, with a florid complexion, but the thinness of his legs spoke to his having been in the chair for some time. The ramp to the veranda and the sparse furniture suddenly made sense.

  ‘Petra, Nell, this is my husband Lew. And of course you already know Ashley. Lew, these are our fellow investigators.’

  ‘So we finally meet!’ Lew rolled over to shake our hands and then spun a wheel and swivelled, deftly positioning himself beside the coffee table. ‘Wonderful! Now, just to save on the preliminaries. Car accident, over twenty years ago, so it’s ancient history. T9 spinal-cord injury. That’s complete paralysis of the lower body. Don’t drink and drive.’ He wagged a finger at Petra, as if she needed specific reminding. ‘But I was bloody lucky compared with some, so there you go. Now, you’re gonna be pretty pleased with what I’ve turned up.’

  ‘I’m sure we will,’ said Petra, glancing at me sideways.

  ‘Thanks again for having me on such short notice,’ said Ashley.

  I adjusted my position so that I could see him fully, hoping to catch his eye and send a nonchalant smile that would belie the buoyancy of my stomach. But he was listening intently as Lew detailed the flaws in police speed-camera methodology. There was something similar about the two men, I decided, even though they did not look at all alike; integrity, perhaps, or a certain honesty. Despite only just having met Lew, however, I suspected his was more exposed than Ashley’s. An image of last Wednesday morning clicked behind my eyes, like a viewfinder, roundly disproving my hypothesis. I flushed.

  Deb returned from the kitchen with two bottles of wine, one red and one white, a largesse that seemed a little inappropriate given her husband’s recent warning. She passed the bottles to him and went to a crystal cabinet for goblets. Between them they took orders, filled glasses, passed around the platter.

  ‘Okay then,’ said Lew impatiently, waving his wife to a seat. ‘That’s enough of that. Let’s get to business!’ He turned to face Ashley. ‘I take it you’ve been given the background?’

  ‘Absolutely. Nell has been most forthcoming.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Petra, leaning back and crossing her legs. ‘She often is.’

  ‘Excellent!’ Lew flicked a switch on the data projector and with a low hum, the screen gradually filled with the now familiar photo of Petar Majic and Mate Dragovic with dog. He hefted the laptop onto his knees and then turned back to us. ‘D’you know, when Deb first asked me to do this I was bit peeved. She’s always coming up with stuff for me. But I’ve had a bloody good time. Fascinating history here.’

  Deb gave her husband a smug look. ‘Told you so.’

  ‘And right as usual.’ He winked at her and then slapped his hands together, the laptop wobbling precariously. ‘Okay then. I started off by confirming the information we had; no point building anything on sand. But I’m gonna update you chronologically, rather than in the order that information was revealed. Easier to follow. So, for starters –’ he jabbed a button on the laptop and the screen changed to a map of Eastern Europe ‘– Petar Majic was born in 1829 in Kerch, a major trade port in the Ukraine. Mother died when he was a baby, father drowned when he was six. After that he seems to have been taken in by a local family, the Dragovics.’ He turned to give us a grin before continuing. ‘I’m guessing they were some type of kin. The Dragovics had a mass of kids so they probably didn’t even notice one extra. Although times would have been tough. He and Mate Dragovic went off to sea together as teenagers and returned in 1852. We next see them signed up as ship’s hands on the Weidemann, which docked in Melbourne on 19 March 1855. The Crimean War was in full swing by then, which may have been one reason they left the Ukraine again.’

  ‘I wonder if they already knew about the gold rush,’ I said, watching as Lew replaced the smaller map with one that showed the ship’s long journey. ‘Or whether they heard about it when they docked.’

  ‘Hard to know. Next time their names crop up is on a claim at Bendigo Creek.’

  ‘And Kata?’ asked Petra. ‘Where does she come in?’

  ‘Ah yes, young Kata. We’ll get to her in a moment.’ Lew was clearly enjoying himself. He scrol
led back to the picture of the two men. ‘So we have our two young adventurers off prospecting and, against all odds, hitting paydirt in 1856 – partly because they didn’t subscribe to the popular belief that gold diminished at depth. And did they ever strike it rich. Eventually sold up for forty thousand pounds, which was a shitload of money then.’

  Ashley whistled. ‘Not counting the gold they would have extracted in the meantime.’

  ‘Yep, they were rich men when that was taken.’ Lew inclined his head towards the screen and then scrolled forward once more, until he reached the portrait I had last seen on the display boards at Sheridan House. ‘Which brings us to the lovely Kata. I’d a bit of a head start here, thanks to Nell, but tracking her was still a job in itself. I knew where she’d come from and where she’d finished, but just couldn’t join the bloody dots. That is, not until I stopped searching for Kata Dragovic.’ He paused. ‘And started looking for Kata Majic.’

  If it wasn’t for my collar I would have gaped, but fortunately my chin was jammed in place. ‘Kata Majic? You mean …’

  Still grinning, Lew hit enter on the laptop and Kata’s photo was replaced by her wedding certificate. It was quite ornate, with whirling scrolls and beautiful copperplate writing. ‘Yep. The sister married the brother’s best friend in 1853. They had a child too, a boy named Petar, but he died in 1855, probably when Kerch was razed by the British.’

  Deb chimed in. ‘My theory is that he left to make some money for his growing family.’

  ‘We also reckon he fully intended to return,’ added Lew. ‘But the gold rush must have seemed like too good an opportunity. Besides, Kerch was a mess after the war. Still, it seems that she was pretty resistant to emigrating, despite everything. Or maybe there were elderly relatives to care for. Anyway, she didn’t arrive till 1862, when the house at Majic was being built. She would’ve been one of the first to catch the train from Melbourne to Bendigo, because the line was only opened in October that year.’

 

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