The Goldminer's Sister

by Alison Stuart

  ‘Another two drowned rats.’

  They turned to the manager’s office, where Jack Tehan lounged against the door jamb. Water gathered in a puddle at his feet and his damp hair had begun to dry, curling at the ends into unkempt light brown waves.

  ‘Is that your horse out there?’ Eliza asked. ‘You’ll kill it if you don’t get it into the dry.’

  Tehan shot her a sharp glance. ‘My horse is my business, Miss Penrose.’

  ‘My uncle is at home, laid up with the gout. He told me if I were to see you that I should tell you to come over to the house.’

  Tehan straightened. ‘As he commands,’ he said. ‘If you are returning home, Miss Penrose, allow me to accompany you?’

  ‘It’s still raining,’ Alec said. ‘You’d be best to bide here until the rain lessens, Miss Penrose. You go on ahead, Tehan, I’ll see her home safely.’

  ‘It’s getting late,’ Eliza said. ‘I would rather go home.’

  ‘Take my oilskin,’ Ian said, lifting the heavy slicker from the hook by the door.

  Tehan opened the door, admitting a shower of rain. He shut it again.

  ‘Before you go, I’ve got business with you, Tehan.’ Alec said.

  ‘Have you? It will have to wait. If you’re ready, Miss Penrose? Good day to you, McLeod.’

  Swamped by Ian McLeod’s oilskin, Eliza walked beside Jack Tehan, who led his horse. As they passed through the mine’s gate, she glanced back. Alec McLeod stood on the steps to the office, his hands thrust into his pockets.

  ‘So you’ve been on a tour of the mine. Impressive, isn’t it?’ Tehan said. ‘Your brother knew what he was doing.’

  ‘I’m curious to see the Shenandoah Mine.’

  ‘Are you now? I’m afraid, Miss Penrose, as you can see from the state of meself and me horse, the track up to Pretty Sally is hardly fit for travel at the moment and it will get worse before the winter’s done. I suggest you wait until the warmer weather before venturing up to the mine. And at the end of the day, it’s just a mine. Nothing to see.’

  They passed the school house and crossed the bridge spanning the swollen creek. ‘How long did you work for my brother?’

  ‘That would be going on six months or more. He was a good boss. The men liked him. More importantly, they trusted him. This is a dangerous business, Miss Penrose. Trust is very important.’

  She met his eyes. ‘Indeed, Mr Tehan, trust is important.’

  ‘You can start by calling me Jack,’ he said. ‘No one calls me Mr Tehan. It’s plain Jack or Black Jack.’

  At the house, Tehan took the horse around the back to the stable, allowing Eliza time to restore herself to order and ensure that Mrs Harris had tea organised.

  When Tehan entered the parlour, Eliza was sitting with her uncle beside the fire.

  ‘Sorry to hear about the gout,’ Tehan said as he joined them. He looked down at his stockinged feet and grimaced at the sight of one toe protruding through the wool. ‘I apologise, but Mrs Harris wouldn’t let me in until I had removed me boots.’

  Cowper harrumphed and told Tehan to sit down as Mrs Harris set down a tray, poured tea and handed around plates bearing still warm cake, which Tehan devoured in two mouthfuls.

  Eliza cleared her throat. ‘I understand that you kindly packed my brother’s belongings after—’ she paused, ‘—after the accident.’

  Tehan took a noisy gulp of tea and set down the cup. ‘That was me sad duty. I hope you found everything in order? He didn’t have much to call his own.’

  ‘I am missing his notebooks,’ Eliza said.

  Tehan glanced at Cowper, who gave a barely perceptible shrug.

  ‘His notebooks?’ Tehan said. ‘There’s no mystery. I have them, Miss Penrose.’ He tugged his beard, which had dried to the colour of new mown hay. ‘I am relying on them at the moment, but if you would like them …’

  Eliza shook her head. ‘Not if they are of use to you, but I would like to see them.’ Maybe Will had written personal notes? But she doubted it. He was, after all, an engineer.

  She gathered her courage to ask the question that had been nagging at her since she had seen the place where Will had died. ‘Mr Tehan, as the person who probably saw him the most, did it seem to you that Will may have been depressed or worried about something?’

  Cowper frowned. ‘What are you implying, Eliza?’

  ‘Are you asking if took his own life?’ Tehan said.

  She started, surprised both by Tehan’s perception and his honesty. ‘Please understand, it’s difficult for me … You see my father—’

  ‘Eliza, really,’ Cowper began.

  Tehan shook his head. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say, Miss Penrose. We were not friends. He was me employer. If I’m honest with you, he seemed more distracted than usual but otherwise, I couldn’t say I saw anything unusual in his behaviour.’

  ‘What nonsense, girl,’ Cowper said. ‘The coroner concluded it was an accident and that is all it was. The stupid fool went too close to the tailings and they gave way under his feet. Damned dangerous. I have a running battle with some of the children who like to scavenge the tailings for flecks we missed. Now if you’ll excuse us, Eliza, Tehan and I have business to discuss.’

  Eliza stood, prompting Tehan to rise. She held out her hand to him. He had elegant hands with long fingers but the dirt of his profession was ingrained in his nails and the pores of his skin. He held her hand for a little longer than propriety demanded, only releasing it when she pulled away.

  At the door she turned back. ‘There is one more thing. As I have no interest in the Shenandoah, it is none of my business, but with the major shareholders still abroad, I am curious as to how you are financing the running of the mine if it is in such a parlous state?’

  Her uncle stiffened, half rising from his chair but subsiding with a grimace. ‘That is, as you say, none of your business, Eliza,’ he said, ‘Please close the door behind you.’

  Eliza retreated to the warmth of the kitchen. The smell of cooking banished the miserable evening that had settled over the valley. Tom sat by the fire, polishing Tehan’s boots. He looked up and smiled at her. Over the last few weeks she had spent some of her spare time with the boy, helping him with his reading and writing.

  Mrs Harris, her sleeves rolled up and her face pink and shining from exertion, stood at the kitchen table, kneading bread for the morning. She straightened and wiped her forearm across her forehead, leaving a smear of flour.

  ‘Anything I can do?’ Eliza asked.

  ‘You can peel the potatoes.’ Mrs Harris pointed at a bowl on the other side of the table.

  Eliza found the paring knife and set to work.

  ‘Don’t you be taken in by that Jack Tehan, Miss Penrose,’ Mrs Harris said. ‘Handsome is as handsome does.’

  Eliza paused in her task. ‘I’ve no intention of being taken in by him. I can see for myself that the man is a rogue.’

  Mrs Harris nodded and returned to pounding the dough. ‘He’s got the Irish charm and from all accounts, he comes from bad stock. I’ve heard tell his father was a convict sent to Tasmania for murder.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Forgery,’ Tom said. Both women looked at him. ‘His dad was a forger.’

  ‘And just how do you know that, Tom Harris?’ his mother demanded.

  Tom stuck his chin out. ‘I hear things,’ he said. ‘No one pays me much mind so I hear what they say and I heard Mr Tehan telling the master his da were a forger.’

  Mrs Harris wagged a floury finger at the boy. ‘Eavesdroppers hear no good of themselves.’

  Tom shrugged and returned to polishing Jack’s boots.

  ‘There’s many a girl who’s set her cap for Jack Tehan and regretted it.’

  ‘But he’s only been here six months. It seems a short time to have acquired such a reputation.’

  ‘I knew him in Bendigo,’ Mrs Harris said. ‘Had to leave town hurriedly on account of a husband not taking kindly to finding Tehan i
n bed with his wife.’

  ‘Ah,’ Eliza said. ‘I don’t think you need to fear for my virtue, Mrs Harris. I’m hardly a catch for any man and I think the likes of Tehan would be after a girl with a bit of money and prospects. I have neither.’

  ‘Aye, but you’ve a pretty face, and who’s to say you don’t have prospects? Your uncle is a wealthy man and he has no other relatives that I’m aware of.’

  Eliza wondered if she caught a faint tone of bitterness in the woman’s voice. ‘Barring the gout, he’s hale and hearty and I can’t live my life on the presumption of his generosity in the event of his death.’ She plopped the last potato into the pot. ‘I’m on my own, Mrs Harris, and that is how it will stay.’

  Jack Tehan left before supper and after Eliza and her uncle had eaten, they sat in the parlour, enjoying the warmth while the rain slammed against the tin roof and the windows. She had stockings to darn, a job she hated.

  ‘How’s the foot?’ she asked, fitting the darning mushroom to the heel of her stocking.

  He grimaced. ‘Plagues me like the devil and I’ve too much work to do to sit here like an old man, but doctor’s orders are doctor’s orders.’

  ‘Will’s business partner, Caleb Hunt, was doctor here for a while, wasn’t he?’

  ‘A damn fine doctor too. We had our differences but I can’t deny he had a skill that Sims lacks.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s the instinct that you’re born with that distinguishes a genius from the rabble.’

  ‘Some people tell me that Will had something similar.’

  Cowper nodded. ‘He did.’

  ‘You must have been angry when he left Maiden’s Creek for Shenandoah.’

  ‘It’s never easy to lose a good employee but I recognised Will had to make his own way in the world, and I found an excellent replacement in McLeod.’

  Eliza let a few beats of the stamper pass before she looked up. ‘What did you and Will fight about?’

  Cowper stiffened. ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘This is a small town, Uncle.’

  ‘Then the rumour-mongers must know that we fell out over that woman he was keeping company with.’

  ‘Sissy?’

  Cowper rolled his eyes. ‘Good God, he had promised her marriage! A Penrose married to a fallen woman? You say this is a small town, well, it is a small colony, Eliza. It would have meant social ostracism for your brother, his wife and the rest of the family, you included. I tried to make Will see sense, and I think I succeeded to a degree. I believe that he broke contact with the girl, but he never forgave me.’

  Eliza smiled. That would be Will. He could hold a grudge.

  Cowper sighed. ‘I am sorry he passed away before we had a chance to make amends.’

  They sat in silence, only the crackling of the fire disturbing the peace of the room as it sent sparks up the chimney.

  Thirteen

  11 July 1873

  Charlie did not attend school on Wednesday or Thursday and on Friday, Eliza resolved to visit Annie O’Reilly and see what could be done about the child.

  She found Mrs Harris in the kitchen, churning butter. ‘Can you tell me where Annie O’Reilly lives?’ Eliza asked.

  The woman stopped her work and wiped her forearm across her forehead. ‘Why would you want to know that?’

  ‘I have to talk to her about her daughter.’

  ‘She don’t like the townswomen. Calls ’em busybodies.’ She paused. ‘Actually, she calls ’em something else but I’m too much of a lady to say.’

  Eliza straightened. ‘Nevertheless, I must try to talk to her. The situation with Charlie can’t continue.’

  Mrs Harris frowned. ‘What situation?”

  ‘The child is clearly intelligent. She has an aptitude for maths far greater than children in the most senior classes, but while she misses school, she will never learn.’

  ‘And you think that a quiet chat with Mad Annie will change things?’

  ‘She needs to be made aware of Charlie’s position.’

  ‘Oh, I think you’ll find Annie is fully aware of her daughter’s position,’ Mrs Harris said. ‘But if you’re set on talking to her, then you’re a braver woman than I am. You’ll find her hut on the Aberfeldy Road, just about on the turn-off to Pretty Sally. It’s a couple of miles to walk out past the Chinese gardens. You can’t miss it. Do you want to take Tom for company?’

  Eliza hesitated. If Annie’s reception was to be as hostile as everyone seemed to think it would be, then maybe a second person could be useful. But she was doubtful what help Tom would be in a difficult situation and she intended to visit Sergeant Maidment on the way, so she declined the offer.

  North of the town on the Aberfeldy Road. It shouldn’t be too hard to find, Eliza thought. After all, there was only one road heading north out of the town. ‘If you want to hire a horse, Sones Livery stable has good, solid beasts,’ Mrs. Harris said.

  ‘That’s a luxury I can’t afford and besides, it’s a lovely day for a walk.’

  At the Maiden’s Creek Police Station, a sturdily constructed building in the centre of town, she disturbed a large constable engrossed in a newspaper.

  ‘Can I help you, madam?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. I’d like to speak with Sergeant Maidment.’

  The constable glanced at a closed door behind him. ‘May I enquire as to the nature of your business?’

  ‘My name is Eliza Penrose. I wish to speak with him about my brother’s death.’

  ‘Penrose, did you say? You wait here, miss, and I’ll see if he is available.’

  Before the constable could knock on the door, it opened and a tall, cadaverously thin man with sergeant’s stripes on the arms of his serge police uniform appeared in the doorway.

  ‘It’s all right, Prewitt, I heard. Come through, Miss Penrose.’

  Eliza took the seat Maidment offered. After extending his condolences for her bereavement, he sat down at his desk and studied her with bright, intelligent eyes.

  ‘What is it I can do for you?’

  ‘I believe there was an inquest into my brother’s death. Do you have a copy of the coroner’s report?’

  Maidment nodded. ‘I do, but may I ask why you want to see it?’

  ‘I am curious to find out all I can about my brother’s death.’

  Maidment studied her. ‘The coroner concluded it was an accident.’

  ‘Nevertheless I would like to see it.’

  Maidment opened a drawer in a cabinet in the corner of his office and pulled out a slender file. From it he extracted a couple of sheets of paper and handed them to Eliza. The report was scribed in an elegant copperplate and was surprisingly brief.

  Coroner’s Report into the Death of William Joseph Penrose

  Mr Penrose, the mine manager and shareholder of the Shenandoah Creek Mining Enterprise, was discovered by two miners at approximately 6.30 on the morning of 26 March 1873.

  The body was found at the foot of the tailings of the Maiden’s Creek Mine, an establishment at which Mr Penrose had been previously employed, within a couple of feet of the creek. A quantity of dislodged rock found in the vicinity of the body caused the sergeant of police of the Maiden’s Creek settlement to conclude that Mr Penrose had dislodged the loose stones when he fell from the mine site some fifty feet above the creek.

  Dr Sims examined the body and concluded that the cause of death was a blow to the back of his head. On questioning, the doctor stated that such an injury, along with other non-fatal breaks and bruising, could easily have been sustained in the fall.

  Witnesses report that Mr Penrose had been seen earlier in the evening drinking at the hostelry known as Lil’s Place. Mrs White, proprietor of that establishment, confirmed that Mr Penrose had been present but seemed unable to recall any further details. She did, however, offer the observation that he left at approximately 11 pm but did not indicate where he intended to go.

  No witnesses could be produced to explain why he was
present at the Maiden’s Creek Mine so late at night. He had been employed as mine superintendent at that establishment until a year previously but there had been no recent contact with the mine.

  Mr Charles Cowper, manager of the Maiden’s Creek Mine and Mr Penrose’s uncle, advised that he and Mr Penrose had little contact since Mr Penrose had left for the Shenandoah Mine. Up until that time, Mr Penrose had been living in Mr Cowper’s house. Mr Cowper confirmed that they remained on good terms.

  No one present at the mine on the night in question recalled seeing Mr Penrose, although one miner, George Shaw, reported seeing a light in the mine manager’s office around midnight. He described it as moving as if the person holding it were walking around the office. The night watchman was in his hut, having returned from a tour of the site. Owing to the noise from the stamper and his own deafness, he did not recall hearing anything untoward.

  It is my conclusion that Mr Penrose’s death is an unfortunate and tragic accident and no further action in respect of this case need be taken.

  ‘Thank you.’ Eliza handed the papers back to Maidment, conscious that he was watching her, no doubt waiting for hysterics. But she had no more tears for her brother—at least, not for the moment. ‘Do you agree with the conclusion?’ she asked.

  Maidment frowned. ‘I have no reason to think it was anything other than an accident.’

  ‘What about the blow to his head?’

  The police sergeant sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. ‘Miss Penrose, I presume you’ve seen where he fell? There are large rocks and an unstable surface. He could easily have hit his head on his way down, just as the doctor states.’

  Eliza glanced out of the window. From where she sat she could see the spill of rocks cascading down to the creek, a harsh scar against the hillside. The conclusion of the report seemed quite reasonable in the circumstances. Will had been alone and he had been drinking, or at least that was the assumption drawn from Lil White’s evidence. A misjudgement in his step and he could easily have tumbled to his death. Except it still did not explain what he had been doing up at the mine site or why a mysterious light had been seen in Cowper’s office.