Dead Shot

by Wendy M Wilson

  “She’s very brave,” said Wiki. “And she gave me a dress as well, but I left it in Motuiti. I hope she doesn’t mind.”

  “I doubt she would,” said Frank. “Listen Wiki, I’m going to take a room at the Clarendon. Inspector James and his men are staying there, and it’ll be safer. Would you share the room with her? I’m going to stay outside the door, make sure no one gets in.”

  Wiki grinned at him. “Wouldn’t it be better if you shared the room and I stayed outside the door? You haven’t seen her for days…”

  The Clarendon was dark, with a single lamp on the verandah beckoning travellers who arrived in the night. Mrs. Patterson waited in her coach, with the coachman slumped on his seat up the front. She came out of the coach looking as if she had been asleep, her clothing disordered and her hat askew.

  Frank pounded with the knocker and rang the doorbell for several minutes before a sleepy night porter holding a lighted candle opened the door and eyed the the mass of people in front of his hotel. “How many…?”

  Frank had decided to keep Hohepa and Hop Li at the Clarendon, so he could keep watch on them. By now his bank account was well overdrawn but he was past caring. Hop Li would be better in a comfortable bed, and he didn’t want the group split up. Karira could bring the doctor to the hotel. He indicated the three on the back of the dray. “Three rooms. Wiki, you can share with your brother and keep an eye on him.”

  The night porter came out on the verandah and frowned down at the group in the dray, stroking his moustache thoughtfully. “The woman can have a room,” he said after a few minutes. “But I don’t have a room for the Chinaman and the Maori boy.”

  “You mean you don’t have a room available, or you don’t want them here?” asked Karira. He sounded annoyed.

  “Well, I don’t think I have a room available,” said the porter. “But I suppose they could sleep in the kitchen…the kitchen girl sleeps there, but the floor is spacious…”

  “Would you have a room available for me?” asked Todd.

  “Oh, I’m sure I can find you something.” said the porter.

  “Very good,” said Todd. He pulled out his pocket book and withdraw a bank note. “I’ll take it. I won’t be using it, however. My Chinese friend here will be staying the night in my place.”

  “I can only rent a room to you if you’re going to use it yourself,” protested the porter.

  “This is foolish,” said Mrs. Patterson. She straightened her hat and swept up the steps to face the night porter. “I have a room booked already, and I happen to know you have several empty rooms on the second floor. “I’ll take three more rooms and I don’t want to hear any more about who can stay here and who can’t. You may send the bill to me.” She pushed past him, turned, and beckoned to the rest of the group. “Take whichever room you wish. We’d like a meal sent to each room as well. Enough for…” She scanned the group, stopping on Karira. “Are you staying here as well, constable?”

  Karira glanced at Wiki. “I need to be at the race course to help with Frank’s horse. And Frank wants me to go for the doctor…”

  Wiki had turned pink and stared straight ahead. He was right. Something had happened between them. “And I’m staying where I can watch my brother. I’ll be in the hallway all night. I won’t sleep.”

  Mette was awake now, and shivering with fatigue and hunger. Frank helped her from the dray and held her tightly.

  She leaned against him. “Could we just go to bed please Frank? I’m so tired.“

  It reminded him of Wanganui, when they had stayed at the Rutland and he had slept in a chair at the end of the hall. Wiki was right. He wasn’t going to sleep in the hall this time. After being apart for three days for the first time since they married he needed to be with her, as much for his own comfort as for her safety.

  Just as they had in Wanganui, he carried her up to the room and rested her on the bed. He started to help her undress, and then realized she was not wearing anything under her dress. Her shift had disappeared for some reason. She woke briefly as he stripped off his shirt and gave it to her to wear to bed, lifting her arms to assist him. The shirt reached almost to her knees and was far too wide for her, but he knew she’d be embarrassed if she woke up and discovered she was naked. He stripped off the rest of his clothes and climbed in beside her, not at all embarrassed by his own nakedness.

  He awoke later and sensed a presence in the room. The window was up slightly and the curtains billowed softly in the night air. He lay still, holding Mette, keeping as quiet as he could, but heard nothing. Mette was making small snorting sounds, which she did sometimes when she was in a deep sleep. He focused on the window. Open just a few inches. No room for anyone to climb through. Had someone come through the door? The moon had gone down and the room was in total darkness. Nothing stirred, other than the curtains. He thought he heard the soft click of a door closing, although he couldn’t be sure. But the sense of a presence in the room dissipated.

  Not sure if he had imagined or dreamed of the presence, he slid from the bed, pulled on his pants and boots and pushed the door open. Wiki was leaning against the door opposite, seated, her chin resting on her chest, fast asleep. He nudged her with his foot and she was on her feet in an instant, her Bowie knife held towards him.

  The rest of the hallway was dark and empty, and the four other doors to the upstairs rooms were closed. He walked down the hall listening at each door.

  “I think someone might have been in my room, Wiki. Did you see anyone?”

  She rubbed her eyes, yawning. “I fell asleep - but I would have woken up if anyone came out of your room. I’m sure I would. And I had my feet sticking out across the hall. Are you sure you didn’t just dream it?”

  “I don’t think so. Check on Hohepa. I’m going down stairs to see if anyone left. If you see any movement at all, scream as loudly as you can. Keep your knife handy.”

  He ran down the stairs, taking two steps at a time. The foyer was empty, the metal bar still in place across the door. The billiard room and the dining room were empty. In the kitchen, the girl lay snoring on the floor, a blanket around her, stretched across the door. If anyone had come in that way she would have certainly awoken. He checked the windows. Closed and locked tightly.

  He ran back upstairs. Wiki and Hohepa were together in the hallway, Hohepa dazed with sleepiness. Mrs. Patterson had come out of her room dressed in a night gown and night cap, holding a lit candle, a black shawl draped around her shoulders. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure. I thought someone was in my room…I probably dreamt it.”

  “The hotel is locked up and the constables are on the verandah,” she said. “I’m sure there’s no way for anyone to get in. Would you like a cup of cocoa? I was thinking of going downstairs to get one. We could wake the girl. She won’t mind. Let your wife get her rest.”

  He had a feeling the kitchen girl would mind being woken in the middle of the night to make cocoa for guests. He didn’t reply, not wanting to rebuff her again, but walked to the end of the hallway where a window looked out onto the garden at the rear of the hotel.

  He couldn’t understand what he was looking at for a minute.

  “Mette?”

  24

  An Open Window

  The scraping sound of wood against wood pulled Mette from her dream. She had been dreaming about Frank - a pleasant dream she didn’t want to leave, but it faded quickly. She was somewhere dark and it took her a minute to remember what had happened; Frank had found her in the flaming hut just before she burned to death. She felt the sheet next to her in the bed. Frank was not there but the sheet was still warm. He must have gone out and slammed the door. The window was open, the curtains whipping in the wind. She sat up in bed, afraid suddenly. “Frank?”

  She heard the murmur of voices in the hallway. It sounded like Frank and Wiki. He’d gone out to check on her, no doubt, as she stood guard in the hallway. Their voices sounded normal. Nothing te
rrible had happened. She was safe. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, cold suddenly. The night air was chilly, and she was wearing Frank’s shirt, which was too loose for her and had tangled up and left her partly uncovered. The hotel maid or whoever had opened the window didn’t know how much temperatures dipped in the night.

  She took off the cotton shirt, slipped on her warmer woollen dress and got up to close the window, shivering in the cold night air.

  As she reached for the upper sash, a hand slid through the window like some kind of mythical monster and grabbed hold of the inside of the sill. She reeled back, staring at the monstrous thing in horror. The owner of the hand didn’t appear, but she heard him grunting. She moved cautiously back to the window and saw the top of a man’s head. He had his foot hoisted up onto the ledge that ran around the hotel between the floors, and was straining slowly upwards. Bernard.

  He had not seen her yet; he was concentrating on the climb. She drew in a deep breath, took hold of the top of the sash, and smashed it down hard on his hand; she heard a muffled curse.

  His head came up and he looked up at her, enraged; still staring at her he swung himself upwards, getting one foot onto the sill, his trapped arm twisted sideways. He managed to balance on one knee, and pushed at the window, prying it open with the fingers of his free hand, his teeth bared in anger. The window came up slowly. She clawed at his hand, trying to loosen his grip, digging her nails into the webbed area between the fingers. His face, tense with concentration, was just inches away from hers on the other side of the glass. The window edged slowly upwards.

  She tried to call out, but her throat was still painful from the smoke of the fire and all that came out was a croak. She tried banging her head against the window, but the noise was muffled.

  She realized that although she could not push the window down, she could push it up, using Bernard’s own efforts to help her. She put her shoulder to the window and boosted it wide open. She caught him off guard, as she expected. Before he could see what she intended to do, she pushed her leg out the window and thrust at his nose with her heel, sorry she wasn’t wearing the heavy boots she kept for farm work. Even as she kicked at him, she marvelled at her own lack of fear. She was not going to be taken by Bernard this time.

  His nose gushing blood, he grabbed her ankle and tried to pull her downwards. She was sitting astride the sill by now, panting with exertion, with one leg outside and one leg inside. She dragged her other leg over, balanced on the sill, pulled her knee back, and kicked him in the face as hard as she could with both feet. Surprised, he let go his grip on the sill and tumbled backwards, pulling her with him. He landed with a loud thump on his back, Mette on top of him, and lay there, winded. Blood still dripping from his nose onto his clothing.

  She pushed herself away and looked up at the unlit window of the bedroom, wondering what she should do next. Was Frank back in the room? He’d closed the heavy bedroom door when he left, and the door would muffle any sounds from outside. But someone would hear her. She took a deep breath and attempted a scream, then doubled over with a fit of coughing. Bernard rolled over and grabbed at her skirt, dragging her towards him. She stamped hard on his hand - she’d seen him do the same thing to Hop Li. Her weight wouldn’t do much harm, but she ground her heel into his knuckles, which were red from where they had been trapped under the window sash. He swore loudly and tried to dislodge her by hitting at her with his other hand. She kept herself upright for a few minutes, then fell, knees first, onto his chest. He grunted with pain, grabbed her arm and threw her to the ground. He was coming at her when Frank’s head appeared through the open window. “Mette?”

  “Help me…. Bernard…”

  He hung from the sill for a few seconds, then dropped to the ground, landed heavily, and lunged at Bernard. Bernard was on his back, using his elbows, moving like a crab.

  Frank followed him with raised fists.

  “Is this the bastard who hurt you? Bernard? Get behind me Mette, I’m going to kill him.” He aimed a barefoot kick at Bernard, who rolled away and and got on his knees. He staggered to his feet nursing the hand she had slammed in the window, his face red. “Bitch…”

  It was the first time she had seen Bernard display any emotion. She got behind Frank, afraid now. What if he could beat Frank? He was tough - he’d got the better of Hop Li.

  Frank aimed a punch at his nose, but Bernard parried it with his good hand. He took a minute to swipe at Frank again, but by protecting his injured right hand he left himself open. Frank’s punch landed squarely on his jaw.

  He tumbled back, more blood dripping from his nose, but managed to stay on his feet. Mette saw him grab at his buckle with his left hand.

  “Watch out for his belt. He’s going to…”

  He went for his pocket instead, and pulled out something wrapped in a wad of newspaper. He tossed the paper to the ground and slid what was inside between the fingers of his left hand: Hop Li’s push dagger.

  “Look out Frank. He has a dagger…”

  He came straight at Frank, grinning. “Ready to get the smoke knocked out of you, you limey bastard…?”

  Frank stepped to one side and chopped down on his wrist with the side of his hand. Bernard moved his arm down to lessen the blow, and spun around, the dagger held at eye level. He came at Frank again, this time moving the push dagger to his right hand, which he held closed with his left. He dodged from one side to another like a boxer, holding the grasped fists out in front of him. Then, with a roar, he ran at Frank.

  Frank stepped to one side, but stumbled. He was on his feet quickly, and moving away, but Bernard was right behind him. Mette took a deep breath and screamed; this time a sound finally came out - a thin squeal, but a sound. Bernard stopped for a split second, then ran at her, Frank right behind him.

  Inspector James came from the front of the hotel at a full gallop, his arm raised to one side, holding a night stick. As Bernard closed on Mette, the inspector raised his night stick and swung it at Bernard’s head.

  Without taking his eyes off Frank, Bernard jumped aside, grabbed the inspector’s arm with his good hand, and leaned back. Inspector James dropped his night stick and came off his horse. He landed on Frank, knocking them both flat.

  By the time they had disentangled, Bernard had disappeared into the darkness.

  Inspector James pulled out a police whistle and blew a series of short bursts. His two constables came around from the front of the hotel.

  “He went into the bush, that way,” said James, pointing after Bernard. “Follow him if you can, but be careful. He’s a dangerous man. Keep your whistles out and if you see him blow hard, but don’t approach him. Give it five minutes then come back.”

  “He has a push dagger,”said Frank as he dragged himself to his feet. “But he also has a damaged hand, which is slowing him down.”

  “We won’t get him in the dark,” said Inspector James. “I’ll get a posse together in the morning and we’ll find him then.”

  “You got here just in time,” said Frank. “Thank God. I don’t think I could have held him off much longer.”

  “I was down in Foxton with the bodies,” said Inspector James. “I wanted Dr. Rockstrow to do a full autopsy. I got your note, by the way. Thanks for that.” He peered into the darkness in the direction taken by Bernard and the constables. “I’d like to know more about this ruffian. Mrs. Hardy, was that the man who kidnapped you?”

  Mette clung to Frank. She was going to stick to him like a limpet from now on. “Yes, and I saw him murder someone as well…his name is Bernard, but I’m not sure if that’s a first name or a last name.”

  “An Australian digger, if that helps,” said Frank.

  “How do you know that?” asked the inspector.

  “Hop Li said he’d seen diggers wielding belts in the way Bernard did …and he has the accent…”

  “Hmmm,” said Inspector James. “Good information. I’m going back to the front - the front of the hotel. We’ll muste
r there in five minutes. I’ll leave you to comfort Mrs. Hardy and then we’ll have more work to do. I need to find out more about this Bernard.”

  “Tell me everything that’s happened to you in the last few days,” said Frank as they followed the inspector slowly. “I thought I’d never get you back…I’m sorry I…”

  Mette leaned against Frank, exhausted. “Let’s not talk about all that just yet,“ she said. “Let me tell my story first. Bernard kidnapped me from the clearing. He killed…”

  “An old woman…yes, I found her. I sent Inspector James out to the clearing yesterday. He said he took the bodies to Foxton, so he must have found the old woman….”

  “Mrs. Gammel, her name is…was,” said Mette. “And before that I was at Ernest and Agnete’s…”

  “Agnete told me. Ernest hit you and you escaped out the library window…”

  “So you know everything?”

  “I need to know more about Bernard,” he said. “I saw him at the racetrack tonight, but it wasn’t the first time…and Ernest…”

  “He was at Ernest’s place when I got there,” she said. “Sitting in the hallway. Ernest had a meeting with Mrs. Patterson and two other men I didn’t recognize. When they left Bernard went with them, but I thought he was with Mrs. Patterson. He said something to her as they were leaving. That’s why I didn’t want to go in her coach. Afterwards…after dinner…Ernest went out. He had locked me in the library because of the letter…no, wait a minute, that was the second time…”

  “Was that when he hit you? The second time?”

  “No…yes, he took the letter…it was from Mr. Robinson, his father, and he said it was one he had written to his father, but it had my name on it so I knew he was lying. He put it in his desk drawer in the library and after dinner I went there to find something to read and found the letter. I was looking for a candle…so…”