Forgiven_BooksGoSocial Historical Fiction

by Geoff Lawson

  anyone seeing him, throw more rocks on the old Chink’s roof

  and then go home. He walked and whistled, hands in pockets

  and smirk on his face. Silly old Brothers don’t tell him what to

  do.

  Then unexpectedly, a group of school kids emerged from

  an intersection ahead; which was decidedly odd because he

  knew them, they were from his class! They stopped, staring

  and pointing. What were they doing? Foreboding suddenly

  flashed through his mind. He turned to look back. There were

  more approaching from behind with the teacher in tow. One

  pointed.

  “There he is!” The cry went up from a dozen throats as

  they sprinted towards him. Desperate to escape, he ran

  between two houses where he startled a woman who was

  bringing in washing, and scaled the fence down the back. He

  noted with satisfaction that the other boys didn’t dare to

  follow, so when he emerged in the street behind, he was

  alarmed to discover that a group of pursuers had anticipated

  this move and were about to cut him off.

  They chased him past houses and gardens, through sections

  and over back fences until he was finally cornered in an empty

  lot. Gasping, his trousers torn and his forearms bleeding, he

  was run to ground and triumphantly carried back to class;

  where he was held over a desk by many willing hands and

  whopped with a cane. His attendance at Marist Brothers

  School had come to an end – he was expelled. Mother and

  father were not amused.

  In later years, there was many a time he came home with a

  black eye, usually for failing to keep his inflated opinions to

  himself. There was also the time that Richard had a set-to with

  Albert outside the Rutland hotel. Naturally, she had only heard

  218

  Albert’s version of what had happened, but knowing Richard

  now, it seemed all the more likely that Albert had been the

  instigator all along. Not that it did him any good, for Richard

  had bested him, which served him right.

  Her thoughts then returned to the present. She got off the

  bed and peered out the window, trying to spot a landmark she

  recognised, but there was none. Everything she could see was

  new to her. Wherever she was it was not far from town, of that

  she was sure. They hadn’t travelled long enough to be more

  than two or three miles from where she was abducted, although

  there was little consolation in having worked that out. She

  looked around the room again, but everything was secure –

  there was no way out except through the door.

  The gall of these men! They had nicked her from a

  suburban street in broad daylight. Were women not safe

  anywhere? It would seem likely that no one had noticed, for it

  had only taken seconds to bundle her into the sack and drive

  away, all innocent and nobody else the wiser.

  She sat back on the bed again, feeling depressed. She could

  feel the tears welling. Just then, the bolt on the door began to

  scrape as someone drew it back.

  “Right you are Miss. Time to take you home.”

  Alistair returned to the footpath and consulted his watch.

  The loan shark said they would arrive at twelve and there were

  only five minutes left to go. He was fast becoming nervous to

  the point of being jumpy and returned his watch to his

  waistcoat. There was a lot more at stake now, if anything went

  wrong. He was beginning to have doubts about the wisdom of

  going to the police. Perhaps he should have just given the

  crooks the money and waved them goodbye, but it was too late

  to go back on it now. The die was cast, for better or worse. The

  only option left was all or nothing and what would be, would

  be.

  As if the crooks could read his mind the cab swept into

  view. It began to slow and stopped in front of him, where the

  doors swung open and the occupants emerged, with Rachel

  held between them. At the sight of her father, Rachel tried to

  push past them but was stopped.

  219

  “Not just yet, miss,” warned the older of the two minders.

  She pulled her arms free, but made no further attempt to move.

  “Well Purdue, one daughter, returned unharmed. Where is

  my money?”

  Alistair fished in his pocket and produced the wad of notes.

  .

  “Well now, let me see,” said Alistair, “I’d better check it’s

  all there.” He began to thumb through the wad, counting on the

  fact that all eyes were on him.

  “One hundred and eighty, two hundred, two hundred and

  twenty…”

  The loan shark lost patience and grabbing the wad, began

  to count it himself, silently and efficiently. When finished, the

  total was correct. He straightened the wad and folding it, thrust

  it into a trouser pocket.

  “Bloody ‘ell,” gasped one of the minders, “It’s the police!”

  Alistair jumped, slamming the cab door shut, then stood in

  front of it, only to be bodily lifted and thrown to the ground.

  The constables leaped from their bicycles while still in motion

  and sprinting, two of them converged on the first of the

  minders. Alarmed, the loan shark stepped over Alistair and

  reached for the cab door, but alas, too late.

  The cabbie had been watching with growing unease. All

  had seemed well until the girl had been put aboard. There was

  something in her demeanour; intimidation, fear? His

  suspicions that all was not right were now confirmed and he

  had no wish to have any damage inflicted on his coach, so he

  cracked his whip and the horse lunged forward as Alistair

  grabbed the loan shark by the leg and attempted to rise.

  Two constables grappled with the first minder who

  staggered backwards. All three tripped and fell heavily on

  Alistair. Now liberated, Rachel bolted, while three more

  constables converged on the remaining minder, who downed

  an antagonist with a kick to the groin. The other two constables

  were careful to keep out of range while continuing to engage

  his attention.

  Alistair was injured and on his knees when Rachel

  reappeared with a piece of pipe she had acquired from the

  yard. Bent over low and with a two-handed hold she stealthily

  220

  approached behind the remaining minder and swung at his leg

  as hard as she could. The preoccupied minder gasped and fell

  on one knee. Instantly, the constables attacked, swiftly

  bringing him down, and pinned his arms while the injured

  constable rolled on his legs.

  221

  Chapter Twenty-four

  RENSBURG Region, Cape Colony. January

  1900

  Slowly, the twin columns of horsemen continued on through

  the midday heat, their end destination still invisible on the

  distant horizon. In between, their foot bound captives walked

  wearily in single file. At the rear of the column there were

  some ambulances and wagons that carried water, wounded and

  a number of prisoners that for one reason or another were lame

  and una
ble to keep up.

  It was now high summer. Overhead, the sun bleached a

  broad, shimmering plain covered with dry, ankle-length grass.

  Clumps of spindly trees were dotted here and there, along with

  dead looking brambles and thickets of scrub; everywhere

  anyone looked there was no sign of water holes or animal life.

  The captives trudged on grudgingly and none were talking; it

  was far too hot to talk and all were trying to conserve their

  strength for the hours that lay ahead.

  Directly opposite me was an Australian whose face I didn’t

  know, but he had pleasant, congenial features and was

  probably ideal for what I was about to try.

  I left my position in our line and casually crossed through

  the column of prisoners to fall in beside him. His face held an

  easy smile.

  “Hello cobber, what’s your game?”

  “Hello matey. Nothing really, just need a new face to talk

  to – I’m Richard by the way.” I held out my hand and he had to

  lean to get his right arm around enough to shake it.

  “How do, Richard. Are you enjoying our little jaunt?”

  “Charming, isn’t it,” said I, surveying the dryness and the

  absence of any life. “The vacation of a lifetime I reckon;

  cucumber sandwiches, ice cubes in our gin and tonic. What

  more could anyone want? How’re you lot getting on?”

  “Bloody marvellous, cobs. Riding the hinterland from sun

  up and down, cool breezes to fan one’s face; cold beer on tap

  222

  ev’ry hundred yards and not required to be home ‘till after

  midnight.” Then he pointed to the prisoners. “The locals are

  charming too y’know, always havin’ us home for tea, givin’ us

  hugs an’ Chrissy presents. You know, I always wanted to see

  the world – if only my ma could see me now.”

  I gave a little laugh.

  “What’s with that Devereaux character? I met him earlier;

  doesn’t seem to fit with you lot, does he?”

  “That useless sod – you can ‘ave ‘im if you want. Quite the

  social butterfly ‘e is. Doesn’t like anyone. He’s such a bloody

  snob he won’t even talk to ‘is fellow officers.”

  “I see, barrels of fun eh. Loves the job too, I’ll bet.”

  “Yeah mate, you got that right – when we’re heading home

  for tea he suddenly comes to life. Full of bravado an’ self-

  effusive bullshit.”

  “You know, I think I’ve seen ‘is ugly mug somewhere

  before. You don’t know where he comes from, do you?”

  “Hell no, but if you ask me cobber, I reckon he’s one of

  them white collar crooks on the dodge. Probably spent some

  poor bastard’s tax money on the horses or something,’ an’ now

  he’s hiding out.”

  “That so? Right!”

  I slapped Stanley on the shoulder and did a rearward loop,

  falling in beside Devereaux who watched my approach with

  thinly disguised suspicion.

  “Hello Albert ol’ boy, how’s life in the land of milk and

  honey?”

  He blinked. How could I possibly know his real first name?

  “What do you mean, Sergeant? That’s not how you address

  a superior officer.”

  “Ah well, you know how it is, ol’ boy. How were things in

  Christchurch?”

  His face blanched.

  “Yeah, you know, you were doing a law degree or

  something, weren’t you?”

  His features instantly darkened into a mask of hostility.

  “Stop talking riddles and bugger off Sergeant, or I’ll have you

  on report for insubordination!”

  223

  “Aw, that’s no way to treat your future brother-in-law, me

  ol’ mate. Rachel’s a good looking tart isn’t she? Pretty alright

  eh, hot stuff what?”

  His jaw dropped until it bounced off the ground. His face

  turned purple. He bunched a fist and shook it in my face. “You

  dare to mock me! I’ll have your arse for this, you worthless

  miscreant; you don’t even…”

  I dug in my heels and sprinted off. That definitely rattled

  his cage. As I shot past Stanley I gave him a grin and a wave.

  Stanley returned a puzzled look and glanced around at

  Devereaux. It certainly would be interesting to see what

  Devereaux did next.

  I cut through the prisoners and resumed my usual place.

  Metaphorically, I had drawn a line in the sand, for now he

  knew that I knew – what he didn’t know was just how much I

  knew. Realistically, I’d exhausted what information I had and

  my ploy was to make him think I knew more than I actually

  did. I was gambling he wouldn’t report me, because if he did

  he would risk exposure of the kind that he could certainly do

  without, so now I’d sit tight and await his response.

  “Are you all right Rachel, do you require attention?” It was

  Doctor Kellerman, speaking with fatherly concern as well as a

  professional one. Kellerman had been the family doctor for at

  least twenty years; he had nursed the Purdue children through

  mumps, flus and viruses, abrasions and diarrhoeas; indeed, all

  of the maladies inherent in children. Rachel was like a child of

  his own. He had known her since she was a small wee thing; a

  pixie with large orbs for eyes.

  “Did those roughnecks cause you any harm?”

  She smiled.

  “No Doctor, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

  She had brushed most of the dust from her hair and

  changed her clothes for a bottle green velvet skirt and a simple

  white blouse. By now, excitement and trepidation in regard to

  the morning’s events had suddenly given way to fatigue. She

  was grateful that the whole frightening experience was finally

  over. The police had cuffed and manacled the three offenders

  and not long after, the paddy wagon arrived and the prisoners

  224

  were carted off. Half the street was standing at their front

  gates, arms crossed, silently taking it in.

  In due course the prisoners would be investigated,

  statements would be taken down and more charges could be

  laid. Kellerman had arrived only minutes before the police had

  left, divested himself of his black top hat and thigh-length coat,

  removed his gold cufflinks, rolled up his sleeves and turned his

  attention upon Alistair, who had been helped indoors and was

  now looking the worse for wear.

  Alistair’s pallid face implied he was in pain; he held one

  arm around his ribs and had barely touched the cup that sat

  before him – he had insisted that Kellerman take care of

  Rachel first and was only calmed when told that she had not

  suffered from the hands of her abductors.

  Emily Ellen had galvanized herself into motion and was

  prising the lid from a cake tin when there came a knock on the

  front door.

  “Rachel, can you see who that is?”

  Rachel stood and made her way up the hall. She swung the

  door open to find a thirtyish-something reporter, who doffed

  his hat and gave her his card.

  “Miss Rachel Purdue, I presume? May I come in?”


  The following morning, Alistair was prone on the sofa in the

  lounge, all bound up for fractured ribs, while Rachel held the

  newspaper and turned the pages.

  Courageous father and daughter defy criminals: ‘Yesterday,

  well known business man...

  Abductors arrested – dramatic fracas:

  Alistair Montgomery Purdue Esq. rests quietly at home …

  Brave young woman abducted:

  Yesterday, police hailed Miss Rachel Purdue…

  Heroine unfazed, assists police:

  Miss Rachel Purdue seemed calm and unfazed…

  The evening paper had even more to say –

  225

  Aftermath of Arrests:

  The three arrested after a fracas outside the home of Mr.

  Alistair Montgomery Purdue, appeared before His Worship,

  Justice Bulcher, this morning. Charges were laid in a special

  court session. A hushed court heard the details which included

  assault, abduction, extortion, and resisting arrest. The accused

  deemed held without bail pending a police investigation into

  the unaccountable disappearance of one Albert James Earnest

  Purdue, son of same Mr. Alistair Purdue and that the

  defendants may have played a role in said disappearance. If

  found to have culpability in the matter, further charges may be

  laid. Mr. Purdue is convalescing at home for injuries sustained

  from yesterday’s fracas and has nothing more to add to his

  statement at this time.

  The following day, a score of well-wishers came by to

  console and support, while bearing flowers and gifts of food

  for the family. As some left, more arrived, keeping Emily Ellen

  and Rachel busy making tea and distributing the cake that

  people had brought. There were His Worship the Mayor and

  members of the Town Council, representatives from church

  groups and ladies from the temperance union, as well as local

  Amazons and residents who simply wanted to wish the

  Purdues well. Naturally, they needed to know every detail of

  what transpired and at one stage, extra chairs from adjacent

  rooms were required to seat them all.

  By the time the last visitor had left, Emily was bushed. She

  stared at the pile of plates, forks and the multitude of cups that

  cluttered the bench.

  “Thank goodness Alistair is not a hero every day. I couldn’t

  handle much more of this.”

  226

  Chapter Twenty-five

  RENSBURG, South Africa. Early February