“When Mr Oats supplied me with a sketch of the drawing made from memory, I was relieved of my worst fears of the fate of those infants. The placing of red-back spiders in my bed, I am glad to say, was the act of Marcus Clark and his pals, and not of the Marlo-Joneses. They didn’t fear me nearly as much as did the aborigines, who took independent action.
“That about covers the twin investigations. My chief concern was the fate of the babies, as I have so often asserted, and we must all rejoice to know where they are and that they are being well cared for. Their respective parents will be told where they are to be found.”
“Now, please, tell us the legend,” Alice pleaded.
“The legend!” Bony smiled at her provocatively. “It happened a long, long time ago in the Days of the Alchuringa, when the world was young and waiting for the aborigines to come and take possession of it. In those far-away days the world was peopled by all kinds of monsters, and one day there came wading through the seas a strange being who was half-bird half-man. Its name is Altjerra, the Creator of All Things.
“On coming to dry land, Altjerra was very tired because he carried on his shoulder a huge sack filled with spirit babies with which to people the world. He sought for a resting place in the shade and found such a place at the foot of a great baobab tree. When he awoke he was very hungry, and he saw in the tree a poor old kookaburra, which he caught and ate. Whereupon the tree began to cry, saying: ‘You’ve killed my only friend, and now I am so lonely without him.’
“That made Altjerra very sad for the baobab tree, so he opened his great sack and took out many spirit babies, which ran to the tree and hid in its trunk. Leaving the now happy old tree, Altjerra travelled on across Australia, and wherever he came to an ancient tree, or a heap of Devil’s Marbles, or a hill having a strange shape, he dropped spirit babies from his sack, and the spirit babies ran to hide away in those unusual sanctuaries.
“After a long time hiding in the baobab tree, the spirit babies got tired of being so imprisoned. Of themselves they could not leave the sanctuary and roam the wide world, and no matter how much the baobab whispered patience with it leaves, the spirit children became sad and still more sad.
“Then one day there came another Being, this time an aboriginal lubra. She was both tired and sorrowful, tired because her husband had chased her away from camp, and sorrowful because the cause of it all was her failure to give him a son. So she laid herself down in the shadow of the baobab tree and cried herself to sleep. And then a spirit baby more venturesome than the others crept out from the tree and hid himself in the lubra’s body and eventually was born a human child. So ever afterward when a lubra wanted a baby, she would leave the tribe and lie down and sleep beside an object said to shelter spirit children, and her wish would always come true.”
The ensuing silence was broken by Alice, who said:
“That is a beautiful story, Bony.”
Yoti snorted, saying sarcastically:
“Still, which did come first, the egg or the chicken?”
Bony stood, and sighed:
“Must you be so practical, Sergeant?”
Essen chuckled, but Alice was silent. Yoti said:
“Well, that ties all the knots. I thought I knew most about crime and criminals, but I’m only a starter. Come on, Essen. Give us a hand with the damned reports on this lot.”
They departed, and Bony crossed to his suitcase and began to pack. Alice remained silent, and presently he asked:
“Any questions, Alice?”
“Yes. I want to keep the baby. That little fella came out from the tree just for me to love him. You’ll let me keep him, Bony?”
He returned to the desk and she stood to meet him.
“A wise woman would not submit your problem to Solomon,” he told her, softly smiling. “I’m not Solomon. I’m only your good friend, Bony. We are catching the plane for Melbourne, leaving in an hour. So be ready. Remember, Melbourne isn’t in New South Wales. Remember, too, that possession is nine-tenths of the law.”
Murder Must Wait Page 23
