For an hour they worked carefully plotting the course of every launch out from Bermagui that fatal day. Times and positions were marked relative to each other, theOrcades, the trawler working south of Bunga Head, the several launches out from Narooma. From this the final map was drawn giving all details except the actual courses. In silence the three men studied the key plan.
Presently Bony murmured:
“What can we learn from this? It might contain clues I cannot see but which can clearly be seen by such a man as you, Jack. Look at it carefully. Search for any absurdity, any abnormality. But wait a moment. It will help us if we sub-divide this plan into three areas.”
With a coloured pencil he drew curved lines circumscribing his three areas. The one at the top, which included waters about Montague Island, he marked “North”. That one east of Bermagui he marked “Central”, and that one off Bunga Head south of Bermagui, and which included Wapengo Inlet, he marked “South”. The “South” area showed the position of theGladious with that of theOrcades and the trawler, A. S. 1. In the “Central” area were marked the position of theGladious, Edith andSnowy with that of theDo-me from the time that craft left port until last sighted by theGladious. In the “North” area the positions ofEdith andSnowy with each other and theOrcades were given. After consideration Bony removed the launches from Narooma because, none having been off shore more than two miles, he felt sure they were unimportant.
“Well, Mr Blade, what do you make of it?” he asked, when again they were silently studying the final drawing.
“Not much as yet. The plan is most enlightening, for we get a kind of aerial view of all craft at sea.”
“That is not quite correct, for we have yet to plot in the part-course of theDolfin. The trawler saw her first at seven-fifteen in the morning making south-eastward across her bow. She lost sight of theDolfin, still making to the south-east, at about eight o’clock. I will pencil in those details. You see, theDolfin emerges from Wapengo Inlet and heads straight to the southeast until lost sight of by the captain of the trawler.
“We appear to possess two premises from which to build two structures of theory,” he went on. “The first is that the owner of theDo-me, William Spinks, murdered his angler and his mate, or the mate murdered Spinks and the angler, and then steered the launch farther out to sea for the duration of that day, to return at night to the coast where he sank theDo-me in shallow water and reached land in the small boat. So far we need not trouble with motive, but we have to recognize the difficulty of disposing of the small boat. The second theory, which seems to contain probability, is that a craft unknown attacked those on theDo-me, murdered them all, and then sank the launch. Here again we are without a motive. But we will leave motives alone and concentrate on what could have happened to theDo-me.
“If we adopt the first theory, then Spinks or his mate when taking theDo-me out to sea for the remainder of the day would have had to hide from theOrcades for at least an hour and a half whilst that ship was passing up the coast. If we assume the second theory to be more probable, then the craft that accounted for theDo-me had to escape the attention of those on theOrcades, theGladious, and the trawler; and it would presume knowledge that Spinks and Ericson had decided to fish along Swordfish Reef. Well, then, what craft on our map, without being observed by the others, was able to dodge north or south and so come in from the east to Swordfish Reef and theDo-me?”
After a period of further study, Wilton said:
“TheGladious could have done that. Gladious could have seenA. S. 1in the distance; but it was hazy and being a small craft the trawler wouldn’t have seen her at half the distance.”
“And up here in the north area theEdith could have come south after theOrcades had passed her at twelve-forty,” Blade contributed.
“I think we can absolve theEdith,” decided Bony, “because Flandin on hisSnowy checked the course of theEdith, after Burns checked his course with theSnowy and either one would have noted error in the other’s map-plotting. Which leaves usGladious andDolfin. ”
“Yes, both could have reached theDo-me without being seen by those on the trawler-and, too, without being seen by anyone on theOrcades after twelve-thirty pm.”
“I agree with you, Jack,” Blade said, reluctantly. “Phew! For Remmings on hisGladious to have done that would mean that he had to make confederates of his mate and his two anglers who are professional men in Melbourne. As for Rockaway on hisDolfin, he would have had as confederates his crew of three men and his daughter if she went to sea that day. Hang it! Rockaway has been living at Wapengo Inlet for years, seven years. He built himself a fine house. He owns several cars and theDolfin. He built a comfortable jetty to take theDolfin. No, no, no! It couldn’t have beenGladious orDolfin.”
Once again silently they studied the plan. Now and then footsteps sounded on the decking of the jetty outside. Through the cabin entrance drifted the low murmur of human voices, the cry of sea birds, the eternal roar of surf. Then Bony said, softly, taking pleasures in throwing a bomb into the works of the plan:
“Do either of you know a launch about forty feet in length, steam driven, with a black funnel and no mast, and painted warship grey?”
Both his hearers stared at him, and then both answered in the negative. Bony smiled a little when he went on:
“I received a message today conveying the information that the officer of the watch on theOrcades when she passed up this coast, as well as the quartermaster at the wheel, remember seeing such a craft approximately due east of Bunga Head by fourteen miles. They remember seeing this craft because they passed it by only a couple of hundred yards. The two men on it waved to the passengers lining the ship’s rails. The time of passing this craft was about twenty minutes after twelve o’clock, and, you will see by our map, seventy-five minutes afterGladious last saw theDo-me still making to the east in the direction of that steam launch.”
Wilton whistled. Blade offered no comment.
“Never even heard of such a craft,” Wilton said. “Did theOrcades say which way she was making when they saw her?”
“She was making to the south.”
“She will have to be located,” Blade said.
“The police of Australia are now searching for her,” Bony stated. “I think it is too late now to discover her, because she will have been disguised. However, by no means do I think our work on this key plan wasted. The next step is to write history from the day that Ericson arrived at Bermagui to the day after theDo-me disappeared. I have made a copy of the weather records, and from your books, Mr Blade, other items can likely enough be obtained to go into the making of the history.”
The secretary’s grey eyes were shining when he said, eagerly:
“My books would give a great deal of information, because they concern fishing and items that will recall incidents from which other items of information can be built up. We could, I think, make the history of those days fairly comprehensive.”
“Good!” exclaimed the half-caste. “We’ll make it a personal history, as though it were a diary kept by the unfortunate Mr Ericson. From it might emerge alead. I am beginning to feel that the motive behind the destruction of theDo-me was the killing of Ericson, and that the motive for the murder of Ericson might be discovered in those twenty-nine days.”
Swiftly he gathered the plans together and placed them in the brief-case. It was five o’clock and the first of the launches was coming in over the bar.
“I want to go fishing tomorrow, Mr Blade. Could we devote a couple of hours to the History of the Twenty-nine Days, say after nine o’clock tonight?”
“Yes. Certainly.”
“You’re a brick. I will be at your office at nine. Jack, tomorrow we sail for the open sea and the big fish.”
Blade chuckled.
“It’s a great sport, isn’t it?” he said.
“Sport!”Bony echoed. “It’s a grand passion!”
Chapter Ten
Real Angling
; WHEN THE procession of launches left Bermagui the following morning, theMarlin was a unit of it and Bony was in her cockpit.
“I ’ates these calm glassy days,” Joe informed him, dropping over the stern his feathered hook which had just been removed from the mouth of a two-pound bonito. “Gimme a good rip-snorter for swordfishing: a man’s got to keep his fingers out of ’is nose when a swordie takes a goodholt on a bait-fish in a half gale.”
They were crossing the mouth of the inner bay towards the tip of the outer headland, three launches ahead and two astern with another coming round the promontory. A heavy ground swell was running into the great bay, the low watermountains ridged by a short chop set going by the wind coming off the land. Against the green back of the protecting headland Bermaguitownship appeared as newly-washed clothes drying on a line.
Outside the headland the swells sent back by the rock-armoured land created a chaos of water that took the launches high and droppedthem low; but once away from this disturbance they rode easier. Some went towards Montague Island, others straight out towards Swordfish Reef, but theMarlin trolled southward, passed the Three Brothers rocks and towards Bunga Head.
Overboard went the teasers to skip and dance on and under the surface of clear water. Overboard went the bait-fish to come skimming after theMarlin like a small speedboat. Each successive roller took the craft high, permitting Bony to view the coast less than a mile away, and then dropped her low, allowing the departing roller to hide the land for a little space. The methodical labour of the engine never varied, never faltered.
“Funny kind of morning,” Wilton observed as he sat on the gunwale rolling a cigarette.“Glass as steady as a rock at twenty-nine point seven inches. Been like that all night. Must have been rough weather ’way out towards New Zealand for these rollers to be coming in. Have to keep an eye on the glass. It might mean an easterly and we don’t want to be too far off Bermee if she comes.”
“What are the chances of getting a fish, do you think?” Bony asked.
“Not bad. There’s more birds about today. See that gannet working inshore? The mutton birds are making south, too.”
“Which means?”
“That the small fish are on the surface, and that the shoal fish are coming north. The birds are going to meet ’em. That’s why Joe agreed easily to make down to Bunga. Those birds whisper yarns to him all right. Look at that gannet.”
Bony saw the gannet, a large and graceful bird, circling above the sea only a hundred yards away. Then it quickly tilted forward and fell like a dart, its wings partly extended to maintain direction until the last fraction of a second before it plunged into the sea.
“You’d think it would break its neck, wouldn’t you?” remarked Wilton. “I wonder at times how often they have to dive to get a meal. Not many. That fellow’s got his breakfast. He wastes no time in getting it down his gullet and being a-wing again.”
From the gannet Bony’s interest was transferred to the launches, all now at varying distance from theMarlin. He was beginning to understand the language in which the Book of the Sea is written. But sea distances still baffled him: he asked how far awaywas theDorothea .
“About four miles,” answered Wilton.
So only four miles separatedMarlin fromDorothea, and only now and then could Bony seeDorothea. That was when she rode the back of a roller when theMarlin was doing the same. Otherwise Bony could see only her bare mast. All the launches had masts and carried sails to be used in case of engine break-down; often it was the mast above the horizon which indicated the position of another launch.
“Assuming, Jack, that you wanted to keep out of sight of another launch but wished to keep in touch with her, could you do it by taking down your mast?” he asked.
“Too right! A launch with her mast down could fox another with her mast up, all day and never be sighted.”
“It would be easier to do if there was a haze?”
“Of course. Neither that black launch nor theDolfin would be seen, if their skippers didn’t want ’em to be seen. The mystery launch had no mast standing, according to theOrcades and the mast on theDolfin is hinged and can be hauled up or lowered to the deck in no time. In fact, Mr Rockaway had her mast fixed like that because he reckoned a mast spoilt her lines. He wouldn’t have a mast at all only he wants one to fly a capture flag as well as to hoist a sail on in case of engine trouble.”
Bony pondered on this before asking:
“This Wapengo Inlet-has it a bar?”
“Yes. It’s as easy to navigate, though, as the Bermaguee bar. But the same easterly gales that close the Bermaguee River also close the Wapengo Inlet. They very seldom blow this time of year, but in winter they keep going for days and there’s no getting in or out.”
“In those circumstances what would happen if a launch attempted crossing either bar?”
“She’d be dumped on the bottom if she wasn’t rolled over. But we never take risks on that stunt. If we can’t get in-and I’ve been caught by an easterly more than once-it means punching away up to Montague Island and taking shelter in its lee until the gale blows out. We take good care not to run the risk of that when we’ve an angler aboard.
“Meand Joe got caught once down off Tathra. It was our own fault in a way because we saw it coming. We just got over the bar at Wapengo Inlet in time. I was scared stiff, but Joe took her over without turning a hair. Inside, there’s enough shelter for a dozen liners. It blew hard for a week, but, as there were millions of ducks about, we lived on ducks and nothing else. Afterwards I wouldn’t look at poultry for a year.”
“Was that before Rockaway built his house there?”
“Yes.”
“Why did he elect to live there, do you know?”
“For the shooting as well as the fishing, I expect. It don’t seem to be any different living there than at Bermee when a feller can afford to run cars and a truck. What’s a few miles, anyway? Besides, he was able to buy up a lot of land that one day is going to be dear. Not a bad sort, Rockaway. Pretty generous. And keen in a business way. Well, I’d better go for’ard and take a look-see. Shoal fish coming up from the south all right by all these working mutton birds.”
Slowly the morning passed, and they were just south of Bunga Head when Wilton came aft for the lunch baskets. Bony noticed Joe gazing earnestly to the east. He looked that way himself, but could see nothing of import or interest. Then Wilton emerged from the cabin and said to his partner:
“The guts have fallen out of the barometer. Turn her round and make for home. The nearer port we are if heavy weather comes the better.”
“I thought somethin’ was happening,” Joe rumbled, bringing the bow of theMarlin round to point northward. “These rollers are gettin’ bigger. Still, the sky’s clear enough. No sign of weather that I can see, unless, yes, there’s a bit of darkness low on the horizon to east’ard.”
“Probably come up quick. Keep a look-out.”
Wilton was seated in the starboard angler’s vacant chair eating his lunch in Bony’s company when Joe shouted:
“Fish-oh!”
They swung round to the quarter at which Joe was pointing, and Joe was shouting exultantly, ten times louder than he need have done.
“Look at that fin! By heck, look at it!”
The hair at the back of Bony’s head felt as though it stood outward stiffly, at its roots a sensation of prickling. He saw the fin at the instant Wilton shouted. The fin was passing the launch to come in round astern of it. Already it had begun the movement. But what a fin! It was standing out of the water as high again as that of his first fish, a thick-based, symmetrically-tapered grey slab of streamlined speed. There was no mistaking it for other than what it was, the fin of a big swordfish.
Joe continued to shout, but now Bony’s brain did not register the words. He did not see the enormous Joe dancing with naked feet, or Wilton standing on the gunwale and supporting himself against the side of the cabin structure. The falling barometer and the threat o
f bad weather were forgotten by all. The fish was curving well astern of the launch, coming in and on to follow the wake.
Wilton sprang to the back of Bony’s chair and began to fasten on his angler the body harness. In this harness clipped to the rod reel, Bony was compelled to crouch over the rod, gloves now on his hands, the fingers of the right hand gently working at the brake spokes, feeling the drag of the water on the bait-fish. Wilton’s voice in his ear was like the hiss of the sea.
“Six hundred pounds if an ounce, Bony. Take him easy. Oh-what a beauty! He’s after the bait-fish. He’s seen it. Look at him, just keeping pace with it, eyeing it, smelling it. He’s a bit suspicious. We’re leaving the teasers out till the last second. That’s right! Be ready to take off brakage, and be careful not to let the line over-run when he’s taking it away. Come on, you beauty! What’s stopping you? Come and take it. It’s just waiting for you. Ah!… Look!”
Like an arrow sped straight and sure, the fin streaked forward, came on up the slope of a water mountain, up and up after the skimming bait-fish. TheMarlin began to drop down into the water valley, and there on the summit of the huge roller, silhouetted against the steely sky, rode the bait-fish, sending outward to port and starboard its “bow” wave, and there immediately behind it, sticking upward like the keel of an overturned racing yacht, sped the dorsal fin of the swordfish.
Down came the bait-fish, following theMarlin into the valley. And now the men could look through the slope of the roller and see the black shape beneath the fin, slim and long and superb.
They were in the valley when a brown spear of bone rose out of the sea. An elephantine mouth rose up beside the bait-fish. It seemed to jerk forward like the open jaws of an eager dog, then sank with the bait-fish gripped by it. The fin disappeared. The reel began to scream.
Immediately Joe spun the wheel to bring the stern round to the north-east. The line from the rod tip ran out directly astern, watched by Bony, the angler, crouching over the screaming reel. Wilton jumped back to whisk inboard the two teasers. Then he sprang again to crouch over Bony from behind the chair.
The Mystery of Swordfish Reef b-7 Page 10
