She thought of Lillie at Drominderry House on the beautiful Kenmare River. Although Kathleen missed Rathgarven at times, she didn’t pine for it any more. Eureka Park was her home now. Despite what had happened with Ronan and Clara, and Ronan being in Vietnam, Kathleen and James had grown closer over the last few months. At times she still thought of Dermot; however, it was as if she was a different person back then in Calcutta. Now it was James who she thought of most. James, who had made possible a life for all of them here in Australia, and on the whole it had been a good life. As each day went by she loved him more.
This afternoon she was looking forward to Lorna picking her up for their excursion to Chaffey Dam, where Kathleen could take photos of the water birds, pelicans, plovers, ibis and wild ducks that had made the dam their haven. Next month she had an exhibition of bird photographs scheduled for Roger Mann’s gallery in Tamworth.
She stood and clambered back down to the horses, where she sat on the grass at Cosmo’s head and let him nuzzle his nose against her knee. She was so grateful this little horse had come along when he did. With him she could try to forget about Ronan being in Vietnam.
* * *
James was doing bookwork in his office above the stables on Saturday afternoon when he heard a car drive up. Through the window he saw a policeman in a uniform that seemed too small for his burly frame, get out of a police car. James put down his pen and went down to greet him.
‘Sorry to bother you, mate,’ the policeman said, lifting his hat and pushing his greying hair back on his sweaty forehead. ‘I wonder if I could have a moment of your time?’
He paused and looked around. There were a couple of stable-hands washing out the stalls, Marcus was tinkering with the tractor nearby and Freddie was carrying a bucket of feed for one of the mares.
‘Is it about my son in Vietnam?’ James asked, fear rising in his throat.
If anything happened to Ronan, would it be a phone call? Or would it be a policeman arriving like this?
‘No, mate. Nothing like that. Might be better if we went somewhere private, though. What I’m about to tell you isn’t general knowledge. Nevertheless, the powers that be reckoned we should let you know before it gets in the papers.’
James sighed in relief. ‘Come,’ he said, and beckoned for the man to follow him back upstairs to his office, where he showed him to a chair in front of his cluttered desk.
The policeman sat down and placed his hat on his lap. ‘You’re aware of the murder case about to start in town?’ he asked. ‘A woman killed her husband a while back.’
James had read about it in the papers and was amazed to see it was Dawn’s friend, Winifred Black, who had murdered her husband. He and Kathleen had wondered what on earth had happened. Then Lillie told them Winifred had been married to Deb’s mother’s first husband. Lillie hadn’t gone into much detail, and the three of them had discussed why Winifred might have done such a thing, given she seemed so timid. Lillie said the husband was supposed to be a bit of a bully and his daughter was as well.
‘I knew there’d been an arrest. And the trial was coming up. But what’s that got to do with me?’
‘It’s to do with your friend. The bloke you found down that mine.’
‘Finn Malone?’
‘Yeah, that’s him. It was believed he committed suicide.’
‘Believed? Are they now saying he didn’t?’
‘So it might appear, mate.’
‘My God!’ James exclaimed, finding it difficult to control the tremor in his voice. ‘So how did he end up down that mine?’
‘Supposedly Winifred Black’s old man put him down there after murdering him.’
James gasped. ‘You’re joking.’
‘No, mate, I’m not. Winifred made a statement. Somehow it got leaked. That’s why I’m here, as it affects you, being such a good friend of Malone’s and taking over this place. We didn’t want you to hear it from another source. Plus they may need to come out here to collect evidence.’ He took out a pack of Camel and offered James one. Shaking his head James picked up his pipe. The policeman knocked a cigarette out of the packet and lit it.
‘But why?’ James stammered. ‘I mean how?’
‘It turns out Winifred was a good friend of Malone’s wife,’ he said.
James nodded, lighting his pipe. ‘Yes I was aware of that. Dawn told us she’d asked her to keep an eye on Finn after she left. Martha Hogan said Winifred used to help out in the corner store. I know my wife, Kathleen, tried to make contact with her when we arrived, but she shied away. And she came to Kathleen’s photographic exhibition in Tamworth a while back.’ He paused, taking a deep draw of his pipe. ‘I think she wanted to tell me something, but she took off.’
‘Yes, she mentioned that, trying to get it off her chest. Lost her nerve. Anyway, she reckons what happened was that her old man followed her out here the morning of Malone’s death. She’d promised Malone that when he came back from Brisbane after drying out, she’d help get the place in order for when you lot arrived. Her old man confronted her and Malone and accused them of having an affair. That’s when the bugger took to her, hitting her hard and trying to drag her off. Malone grabbed his gun and told him to leave her alone and get the hell off his property. Rather than leaving, the bastard went to his ute, grabbed his own gun and shot Malone dead before he had time to react.’
James put down his pipe and placed his hand to his heart to stop it pounding. ‘You’re saying Winifred’s husband killed Finn right here. At Eureka?’
‘That’s what she’s saying. The bugger threatened to shoot her as well, and forced her to help him drag Malone’s body to his truck, then drove across country to that mine where you found him. She said the old man used to work there when it was a going concern. She reckoned he planted Malone’s gun and some empty whisky bottles he’d found back here to make it look like Malone was so drunk he’d taken himself off and topped himself.’
James shook his head. It was difficult to believe what he was hearing. He had always found it odd that Finn had killed himself. But to be shot like that.
‘I wonder if Finn had been drinking when he was shot? I mean …’
‘Nah … Winifred reckoned he was as sober as a judge. She’d been knocked to the ground and he was trying to help her up when the bugger got him in the head. Didn’t have a bloody chance.’
‘He shot him in cold blood?’
‘Reckon so.’
‘What a coward!’
‘What’s more, Winifred said Malone had been really looking forward to you lot coming. That alone could point to murder rather than suicide.’
‘But Finn owed a lot of money …’
‘So Winifred said when the question was put to her. He was a slow payer, but would’ve got round to it … then that happened.’
‘He’d let the place go so much …’
‘Winifred said he’d lost interest after his wife left. As I said, she was supposed to come out here to help him get it in order before you got here.’
James shook his head again, trying to fathom the dreadful scenario. ‘So why didn’t Winifred dob her husband in for the murder?’
‘Blackmail. He threatened to tell the police that she was having an affair with Malone and that when he rejected her, she went out there and shot him in revenge. A woman scorned.’
‘But surely she could have managed to tell her friend Dawn what had happened? After all, Dawn used to be married to Finn.’
‘Evidently they lost contact when Mrs Malone moved to Sydney. Perhaps when Dawn had come up for the funeral, if Winifred had known she was here, it might’ve been different.’
James thought back to Finn’s funeral. Dawn had told them she was going to visit her friend Winifred, but the husband wouldn’t let her in as she was in bed with a bad case of influenza. Obviously he hadn’t told her that Dawn had come by.
‘Once the daughter went up north, that’s when she couldn’t take it any longer,’ the policeman said. ‘She was s
upposedly threatening to go to the police, when, drunk as a skunk, he started slapping her around and took to her in the kitchen. That’s when she picked up the carving knife and … well … we all know what happened next.’
James lifted his pipe from the desk and lit it again as he sat looking at the policeman. The laughing face of his friend flashed before his eyes. James wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that he hadn’t killed himself, or distraught that he’d been murdered in cold blood.
‘Will Winifred Black get off?’ he asked.
‘If it can be proved the bullet that killed Malone came from her old man’s rifle and not Malone’s, then she’s got a damn good chance of getting a fair hearing.’
James remembered seeing an empty cartridge on the ledge in the stables. At the time he’d wondered how it had got there. He had it in his hand when Arthur came up and told him how he and Lillie had found Dingo playing with it. They’d put it there so that Dingo couldn’t get at it again. At the time James had thought it must have come from another of Finn’s guns, rather than his John Rigby, as the cartridge was smaller than the .416 of the John Rigby. He was going to throw it in the rubbish, but somehow it had made its way from the pocket of his trousers and into his top drawer, which was full of bits and pieces. As far as James knew it was still there.
‘Do you know if they recovered the bullet from Finn’s skull?’ he asked.
‘That’s not my field, mate. Though it appeared to be such a clear case of suicide they may not have bothered.’
James opened his drawer and rustled around. ‘Our dog was playing with this one day,’ he said and handed the cartridge to the policeman. ‘I know it’s a long shot, but it might help if it can be proved it came out of Black’s gun. At least it might prove he was here at some stage with that gun.’
The policeman took the cartridge. ‘Looks like it could come from a Winchester.’
‘What sort of gun did he have?’
The policeman gave a small smile. ‘I’m told the one they’re holding as evidence is a Winchester. They found it in the back shed of the Blacks’ home.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll take the cartridge with me if you don’t mind. I know there’s probably lots of Winchesters round. Nonetheless it might help her case.’
‘But how would they prove it wasn’t Winifred who shot Finn?’
‘She reckons she doesn’t know how to use a gun. But that’s up to the courts to decide.’
‘Yes, of course,’ James said.
‘Anyway, I best be off,’ the policeman said, heading for the door. ‘We’ll keep you posted, mate. Rest assured of that.’
After he left, James stood thinking for some time. Sad as he was for Finn’s death, he now knew he was vindicated for doubting his friend had committed suicide. The scenario the policeman had painted was far more likely than a scenario of Finn taking himself off to a disused mine and shooting his brains out. He looked across to the home paddock where he could see Kathleen leading Cosmo on a lunging rope. He began to make his way towards her. What would she think when she discovered their friend had been murdered at Eureka? That he hadn’t killed himself down that mine? Although she would be relieved to know Finn hadn’t taken his own life, he hoped knowing the murder had taken place here wouldn’t distress her too much. At least it wasn’t near the house. He glanced across at the paddocks dotted with horses grazing contentedly; from the river came the sound of the water lapping over the stones.
The knowledge that Finn was murdered, rather than having committed suicide, made James want to honour his legacy here at Eureka Park more than ever. Rathgarven and Ireland would always hold a special place in his heart, but Eureka Park was his home now. He’d enjoyed building the business, and it was doing well, with four stallions servicing not only Eureka Park’s mares, but many others. And there was a bumper crop of foals frolicking in the paddocks. Much to Kathleen’s delight, Shannon Boy had gone on to win a place in the Cox Plate for his new owners, and some of the yearlings they had sold over the years had also had a number of wins, including quite a few at country, town and city meets; even a couple of Group One races at Randwick in Sydney.
The new owners of one of their mares, Kenmare Lass, had asked James and Kathleen to be their guests at Randwick on one occasion. James had been so proud of Kathleen in a tailored white suit and black hat as she mingled with the glamorous crowd. And they both marvelled at the razzamatazz of it all. With pride they watched Kenmare Lass win by a head as they stood under the ornate arches of the 1886 members’ stand, which Kathleen said reminded her of colonial architecture in India. Yet, as he stood beside Kathleen that day, James couldn’t help thinking back to how he had stood by the racetrack at Killarney and watched the horse he had bet on lose. And how that moment had changed their lives forever. As he had watched Kenmare Lass win that race at Randwick — and standing here now — he wished more than ever that Finn was by his side. Eureka Park stud was becoming so well known there was now a waiting list for the services of its stallions. Finn had given him that opportunity and James would always be grateful to him for that. He knew what he had to do: he would ask Father Fogarty to give Finn a full requiem mass, and he would build a small grotto by the river to commemorate his friend.
‘What did the policeman want?’ Marcus asked, sauntering down to the gate where he stood.
‘Go and get Freddie,’ James said. ‘We’ll walk down to Ma and I’ll tell you all together.’
As he waited for them to join him, he looked up at the sky and had a strong feeling that Finn was smiling down from above. Of course I wouldn’t have done something so damn silly as to kill myself, dear friend. Not when you lot were coming.
I should never have doubted you, James thought. Never.
CHAPTER
48
The first night she was back in Sydney, Lillie rang Eureka Park to speak to everyone. Luckily she’d been able to get her old room back in the Manly flat and had gone straight there from the airport. When Ma told her the whole story of how Uncle Finn had been murdered, she got a huge shock.
‘Oh my God! Poor Uncle Finn! Sounds as though he didn’t have a chance.’
‘No,’ Ma said. ‘Tragically he didn’t.’
‘But do you mind living at Eureka, knowing he was murdered there?’
‘It makes me feel all the more that we need to make a success of the place. The same as it does your father.’
As soon as she put the phone down, Lillie rang Deb in Armidale.
‘Mum said that man was a brute,’ Deb told her, ‘and he’d often threatened her. Particularly after she left him. So she won’t be surprised to know that he might have murdered Finn Malone. Dad was damn lucky he didn’t do him in as well when he found out he’d got Mum pregnant.’
Lillie thought back to the day she’d found that empty cartridge with Arthur. Little did she know its significance.
The next week she was on her way home to Eureka Park for Christmas. When the train rattled into Tamworth she was excited to see Ma and Freddie waiting at the station. Ma looked so much better and Freddie seemed to have grown a heap.
‘Dad and Marcus have a problem with a mare,’ Ma said, giving her a huge kiss. ‘So Freddie and I are the welcoming party.’
Lillie gave Freddie a hug. ‘You’ve certainly grown,’ she said, pulling his ear and laughing.
‘You haven’t,’ Freddie said.
‘You don’t have to rub it in.’
‘I’ll show you the spot where Uncle Finn was murdered,’ he said excitedly. ‘Down near the stables.’
‘I was the one who found the cartridge case, remember.’
‘Now tell me all about Ireland,’ Ma said as they walked to the car. ‘How is Alice? What it was like down at Drominderry House? And …’ she smiled, opening the driver’s door and sliding behind the wheel, ‘tell me about your Seamus.’
By the time Lillie filled her in on everything they had arrived at the front gate at Eureka. Although Lillie missed Ireland already, particularly Seamus, she was excit
ed to be back home. But how would she feel about Eureka now that she knew it was the scene of a murder? Yet when they got to the homestead and she rushed down to see Dad, Marcus and Arthur, and later when she stood on the spot where she had found the cartridge case, although she felt a great sadness for Uncle Finn, she found it didn’t change her feelings about Eureka Park.
The next day she joined Ma, Dad, Marcus and Freddie as Father Fogarty said a full requiem mass for Uncle Finn at the church at Gullumbindy and followed it with a small ceremony at Eureka down by the river in front of the beautiful grotto her father had built for him. Set into the rocks and encased in glass was a lovely, laughing photo of him that had been taken in front of Eureka’s homestead.
‘And may the Good Lord bring our Ronan home safely,’ Father Fogarty added at the end. And they all said ‘Amen’ to that.
Later on Ma showed her a letter that had just arrived from Ronan. He’d been promoted to lance corporal and was now second in command of his section. Lillie and Ma wondered if this mightn’t put him in more danger.
‘Not at all,’ Dad said. ‘In fact, I’m sure he’ll be a lot safer.’
But Lillie wasn’t so sure.
Back in Sydney after a quiet Christmas with the family, she worked hard at her jobs, which she had managed to get back, before she was to commence her English literature course at Sydney University. She missed Seamus heaps and wrote often. At first he wrote back with glowing words of love and told her how much he was missing her. But for the last few weeks she hadn’t had any letters at all. At first she didn’t fret; however, as the weeks went by she worried he was losing interest. This really upset her as she realised how much he meant to her.
The Homestead on the River Page 41