‘Come on,’ she said softly, leaning in to kiss his tense mouth. ‘It’s after midnight. Let’s go to bed and forget this whole day.’
‘Alright, my love,’ he gave in, kissing her forehead and then her lips again.
‘And you’ll forget about going after Viktor, right?’
He didn’t answer, just moved her towards the bedroom.
‘Jack?’
He had no intention of promising her that Viktor would not end up facedown in a gully with a bullet in his chest.
‘Let’s just go to sleep.’
Her beautiful brow was still rippled with worry, but she said no more and let him take her to bed.
He made love to his wife, filled with the relief that the woman he adored and loved was safe, that his child was safe. He turned his anger into passion and exhausted them both. But when Pru fell into a deep sleep, he lay wide awake, working through the plan that had begun to form. He hoped Viktor slept well. Because it would be his last night on earth.
***
Prudence woke to Henry’s crying. It was a normal morning, but she was exhausted from the late night, the altercation with Viktor and then her husband’s passionate and extended lovemaking. It had been a long time since they had made love like that. Like two lovers who knew they had one last night to be together.
The thought struck Pru as she lay in that fuzzy world between sleep and waking.
One last night.
Quickly, she rolled in her bed to reach for Jack. She was alone.
‘Jack?’ she called out.
Crawling out of bed, she moved over and picked up Henry. He needed to be dealt with first, so she gave him her breast and sat back on the bed to watch her son feed.
Why on earth would Jack be up so early? she wondered.
Perhaps he had decided to go and milk the goat and let her have a lie-in. Perhaps he had trouble sleeping. It had been a frightening night and very late when they had finally fallen into bed. And she had felt him tossing and turning beside her for a good portion of the darkest hours.
When Henry had finally had enough milk, she lay him over her shoulder and walked out into the kitchen to make a pot of tea. Henry finally let out a cute little belch and she chuckled.
‘There’s my good little man,’ she said and put him down on the floor with his favourite toy, a drum Jack had seen in a store in Ballarat. The thing gave her a headache, but Henry loved banging the big wooden stick against the animal skin, and it kept him entertained for hours. ‘Now, where is your daddy do you think?’
Looking about the room she glanced at the bureau, and froze. The gun. Jack had laid it on the bureau last night after he’d disarmed her.
It wasn’t there.
She opened all the drawers in the bureau. Nothing.
Rushing to the front door, she dashed across to the stables. Persephone was gone. Jack was gone. And she knew exactly where.
‘Dammit.’
She rushed back into the house and impatiently thought about where he would have gone first in order to find Viktor. All the while trying not to think about Jack killing Viktor, or worse, about Viktor killing him.
She paced the floor. ‘When I get my hands on that father of yours, Henry, I’ll wring his neck myself.’
Henry looked up at her with big brown eyes and stopped drumming long enough to smile at her. He looked so much like his daddy at that moment she gasped. The same tawny eyes and devilish grin, and the boy was not even a year old yet. If Jack lived to see his son grow up, he’d see a mirror image, she was sure. And just now she wasn’t convinced that was a good thing. The last thing she needed was another devil on her hands.
She needed to go after Jack, but how could she with Henry?
She’d just poured tea when she heard horses. Praying it was Jack, she rushed to the door and threw it open. Bobby and Katie dismounted their horses and Katie stepped up onto the porch to kiss Pru’s cheeks.
‘Good morning. Where’s that beautiful boy of yours?’ She moved past Pru and into the house.
Pru stayed where she was, watching as Bobby stepped up onto the porch too.
‘Where’s Jack?’ she asked.
He looked conflicted, wouldn’t meet her eyes.
‘Bobby, I know he’s gone after Viktor,’ she said. ‘Please, tell me he hasn’t done anything that can’t be undone.’
Bobby hesitated and then gave in. ‘Not yet. Not as far as we know anyway. He showed up on our doorstep in the God-forsaken wee hours of this morning and asked us to come out and protect you and Henry in case Viktor came back.’
Pru moved quickly into the house. Katie had Henry on her lap and he was gurgling and laughing happily. Her prayers had just been answered.
She disappeared into the bedroom and a moment later came out dressed and shoving a gun into the pocket of her coat. She’d remembered the tiny pistol Jack had popped into her purse one afternoon for protection on the roads.
‘Pru, what are you doing?’ Bobby asked.
‘I’m going after Jack.’
‘He told us you should stay here.’
‘I told him I didn’t want him going after Viktor,’ Pru shot back angrily. ‘He’ll get himself killed.’
She moved to kiss Henry on his soft downy head.
‘Take care of Henry for me,’ she said to Katie.
‘Pru—’ Katie started.
‘What would you do, Katie?’ Pru interrupted. ‘If it were Bobby? What would you do?’
Her heart ached as Bobby and Katie exchanged loving and understanding looks.
‘Go,’ Katie said with a resigned nod. ‘We’ve got Henry. He’ll be safe.’
‘Take my horse,’ Katie offered, ‘she’s already saddled.’
‘I’m going with you,’ Bobby insisted.
‘No,’ Pru said. ‘If Viktor comes back, you need to be here for Katie and Henry. Please, Bobby, please do this for me.’
Reluctantly he nodded.
‘Where was Jack going?’ Pru asked as she headed for the door.
‘Duchess of Kent Hotel,’ Bobby called after her. ‘Viktor stayed there last night, room five. Pru, be careful. Viktor is a dangerous man. You don’t know what he’ll do.’
‘I’m more worried about what Jack will do. I’ve never seen him so deathly calm in his anger before. He’s going to kill Viktor, I know it.’
‘Would that be such a shame?’ Bobby asked.
Pru didn’t answer. She took a last look at her smiling baby, hoping he would get to see his mama and papa again and closed the door behind her. Mounting Katie’s horse with ease, she turned and headed out of the gates, headed for Ballarat.
***
All the way to Ballarat, Pru’s mind whirled with what she might find when she found Jack. If he’d found Viktor, had he killed him? Or had Viktor killed Jack? Neither scenario was good. She prayed, and willed Jack not to do anything stupid.
Shaking the multitude of unhelpful images from her head, she urged Katie’s horse to go faster. Didn’t he realise that all he had to do was tell the police where Viktor was and the convict would be tossed back into gaol where he belonged? No, Jack was too angry to think clearly. But then, would Viktor give Jack up as well? Would the police believe Viktor? She couldn’t take that chance, she had to get to Jack.
Arriving at the Duchess of Kent, she tied the horse at the rear of the saloon. It would be smarter to remain unseen. Jack had, God knows how many hours head start on her. Surely he’d caught up with Viktor by now and … No. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, think that way. Perhaps Viktor had been out bushranging, playing cards at another hotel, or maybe he was at Miss Lola’s. He’d been in prison for eight years. A man like him would spend time doing all the things he’d missed out on in gaol. He’d need money and he’d want sex. She hoped the man’s basic needs kept him away from the hotel.
Peering into the rear entrance of the hotel, Pru stopped to listen. It was quiet. Most patrons would still be in bed, she assumed. Taking the back stairs as silently as sh
e could, she moved up to the second floor.
Room five, Bobby had said. Standing at the door, she tried to think of what she would say to Viktor. Not only had she grabbed the gun when she’d left the house, she’d taken the wad of pounds she had hidden away in case of an emergency. It was a lot of money, and if this wasn’t an emergency, she didn’t know what was. She doubted Jack would pay Viktor what he owed him now, but if she could get him the money, perhaps Viktor would take it and leave them all alone. She’d tell him to take the money and get out of town or she’d tell the police where he was. And if that didn’t work, if he threatened to expose Jack … The gun was cold against her hand in her pocket, but it didn’t stop her palms from sweating as nerves overwhelmed her. She hoped she wasn’t too late and that Jack hadn’t found Viktor already.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she knocked softly. There was no answer, so she knocked a little louder. When there was still no response, she tried the door handle. It opened and she stepped quickly inside.
The room was dark and smelled like man and liquor, blended with another odour she didn’t recognise. Only a thin sliver of dawn light made it through a gap in the heavy curtains. Dust motes danced in the pale light, and as her eyes adjusted, she could see the shape of Viktor sprawled across the bed fully clothed. She closed the door behind her with a bang, surprised when he didn’t make a move. Still so drunk from the night before, no doubt, that he couldn’t move. But she took the pistol from her coat pocket anyway, just in case.
‘Viktor, wake up,’ she demanded in a voice that didn’t waver, despite her fear. ‘You need to get out of town before I go to the police.’ Okay, not how she had rehearsed it, but he’d get the point.
Nothing. The damn man was probably passed out drunk. A pillow across his chest obscured her view, feathers scattered across the bed from a tear in the lining. Stepping a little closer, she tried to make him out in the darkness of the room. Too frightened to stick to her original plan, she pulled the money from her coat pocket and tossed it on the end of the bed.
‘Here’s the money Jack owed you. Take it and get out of town. And never come back, never threaten me or my family again, or I’ll show you just how good a shot I am.’ The gun shook in her hand, and she took a deep breath to steady it as she pointed it at his chest.
Still nothing. She kicked his leg where it hung off the side of the bed and tried again.
‘Just thank your lucky stars that I got here before Jack.’
Moving closer still, she saw his half opened eyes. He looked strange. Too relaxed even in his drunken state. Her foot caught in a corner of the blanket that had slid to the floor and she staggered forward, pulling the rest of the blanket down from his body as she fell. She had to put a hand out on the bed to stop herself from landing flat against Viktor’s body. Knowing she was far too close to Viktor than was safe, she scrambled to get up and away from him. He was a strong man who could overpower her—even blind drunk. But as she righted herself, the pillow shifted and she saw the dark stain on his white undershirt.
‘Oh, dear Lord!’ she gasped.
Pushing up off the bed, she gasped again as Viktor’s head lopped to the side. The man was dead.
Chapter 17
She managed to stifle the scream that threatened, mostly because her mouth had dried up. All that came out was an unnatural squeak. Staggering back away from the bed, her foot caught the blanket again, and as she skidded on the shiny wooden floors, she squeezed too hard on the trigger.
The noise of the gunshot exploded into the room about a second before the noise of the door bursting open.
‘Prudence?!’
She whirled around.
‘Jack!’
He rushed forward and took the pistol she was still waving about, before staring down at the body of Viktor. She began to shake uncontrollably as he checked Viktor for any signs of life.
‘Pru. What have you done?’
‘What have I done? What have you done, Jack?’
‘You’re the one with the gun.’
‘He was dead before I got here,’ she insisted.
‘Then why did you shoot him again?’
Pru frowned at the new bullet wound in Viktor’s chest.
‘It … it was an accident,’ she stammered, horrified that she had shot a man—a dead man—but a man all the same. ‘I slipped on the floorboards and the gun went off.’
‘Shhh,’ he reprimanded. ‘We have to get out of here. People will have heard the gunshot.’
He pushed her roughly out of the room and down the back stairs of the hotel, just as they heard people rushing up the front stairs.
Finally outside, they mounted their horses and set off at pace for the scrubby bushland that would hide them.
***
Neither of them had spoken for a while in their rush to get away from town. But once they were in the cover of the dense forest, Jack slowed his horse and Pru followed suit.
‘How could you do it, Jack?’ Pru asked. Now that her fear had abated, the horror of what she’d seen, what she’d done—unintentionally, of course—hit home.
‘What did I do?’
The innocent look in his face would have been funny, if the situation weren’t so serious. ‘You killed Viktor!’
‘I didn’t kill him!’
‘But you shot him.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘So it was just a coincidence that you left our house in the early hours of the morning. That you happened to be in his room. And that now he’s dead.’
‘You were the one in his room, waving a gun about no less.’
‘But I didn’t shoot him!’ she yelled and then shook her head, trying to clear it. ‘That is, I didn’t shoot him the first time, and the second was an accident.’
Jack was unusually quiet as they walked the horses, and Pru gasped at his expression.
‘Oh my God, you don’t believe me.’
He still didn’t say anything.
‘Why would I shoot him when I specifically told you not to go after him?’
‘He wasn’t in the hotel when I got there,’ Jack threw back. ‘I went out looking for him and he must have come back while I was searching all the hotels of Ballarat.’
She gave an unladylike snort. ‘Jack, you said you’d given up bushranging. You can hardly be surprised that I don’t believe a word you say to me just now.’
‘I have given up bushranging!’ he yelled at the sky. ‘I didn’t lie to you about that, Pru, and I’m not lying about this. Why would you believe what Viktor told you? He hasn’t seen me in years. Of course he’d assume I’m still working the highways.’
They rode in silence again for a while, both lost in their own thoughts, trying to work through the situation.
‘You still went after him when I told you not to?’
‘He threatened my family,’ Jack said through gritted teeth. ‘I didn’t shoot him, but I am not unhappy he’s dead.’
‘What are we going to do now?’
‘I’m sure you didn’t mean to kill him,’ Jack said. ‘He pushed you to it.’
‘I only came looking for you. To try and stop you.’
‘And you found Viktor first. It’s okay, Pru. I’m not going to have you arrested. In fact, we should throw a damn party.’
‘A party is hardly advisable after you’ve just killed a man.’
Jack made a grunting noise of frustration.
‘Let’s just forget about it, okay?’ Pru suggested. It was obvious that neither of them believed the other didn’t kill Viktor. ‘Do you think anyone saw us there?’
‘Someone could have seen either one of us going in or out of the hotel,’ Jack said thoughtfully. ‘We need to get our stories straight.’
‘We’ll talk about this later. We need to get home to Henry,’ Pru said and kicked her horse into a trot.
***
For two days, Jack and Pru stayed close to the house, trying to remain positive, trying desperately to get on with life, know
ing that any minute there could be a knock at the door and the police on the other side of it.
Bobby and Katie promised to let them know if they heard of anyone being arrested or questioned. By Tuesday evening, there’d been no news and they’d started to relax a little. Pru couldn’t help but wonder though. If it wasn’t Jack who’d killed Viktor, and it certainly wasn’t her, then who did?
They were about to sit down to dinner when it came. The knock they had been dreading. And when Pru opened the door, her worst fears were confirmed.
‘Good evening, Sergeant Carmichael.’
‘Evening ma’am,’ the sergeant said, removing his hat. ‘Is your husband at home?’
‘We were just about to sit down to dinner, Sergeant,’ Pru said, trying hard to calm her racing heart. ‘You’re not here to question him about coaches being attacked again, are you?’
‘May we come in?’
Pru glanced from the sergeant to his two constables. His reluctance to tell her why they were there rang alarm bells. Finally, she stepped back and motioned for the three men to enter the house.
‘Sweetheart, who is it?’ Jack asked, as he stepped in from the kitchen with Henry in his arms. ‘Oh, hey Serge. What can I do for you? Mickey.’
‘Mr Fairweather,’ Constable Mickey Doyle returned.
‘Mr Fairweather?’ Jack laughed. ‘Come on, Mickey, what’s with the formalities? We’re mates. I’ve been beating you at cards since you were fifteen.’
The constable gave an uncomfortable grimace. ‘Jack, give over. I’m here on business.’
‘Business?’ Pru questioned.
The sergeant graced Mickey with a glance that had the constable stepping back. ‘We have some questions regarding the death of man at the Duchess of Kent Hotel on Sunday morning. Mr Fairweather, where were you yesterday between midnight and eight am?’
‘You say a man died?’ Pru asked.
‘A man named Viktor Petrovic was shot and killed in his bed at the Duchess of Kent in the early hours of Sunday morning.’
‘Should I know who that is?’ Jack tossed Henry in the air and caught him, making the boy giggle.
‘He’s a convict. Escaped from Pentridge Prison about a month ago. He’s been spotted in this area and one of the waitresses at the Duchess said you and he had quite the heated discussion behind your office a few days ago.’
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