She rested her fingertips on the window pane. A garnet kimono caught her attention, with its embroidered birds and flowers in all hues of the rainbow. Frances squinted but she couldn’t read the price tag.
‘Well, strike me dead.’ The blurred image of a stocky man appeared in the window. She couldn’t see his face which was cast in shadow by the hat he wore, but his croaking, nasal voice implied that he leered at her. The voice! Help, she tried to shout, but no sound came out.
He moved closer, blocking the shop door. Her whole body went rigid with fear. Where was Jack?
‘What’s a pretty sheila like you doin’ here all on her lonesome?’
Perspiration beaded Frances’ forehead.
‘No need to be shy, my pretty.’ He was close enough for her to smell his sweat. She nearly gagged.
‘I can show you a good time, have a drink or two, take a stroll lakeside, and if you’re nice to me, we’ll get you that fancy underwear all right, first thing tomorrow morning. How d’you like that?’ His breath ruffled her hair.
Her heart beat loud enough to be heard a mile away.
Another shadow appeared. A hand clamped down on her tormenter’s arm, twisting it behind his back.
‘She doesn’t like it at all,’ a smooth voice said. Jack! Frances pressed her hand to her heart to slow down its beating.
He said, ‘The lady’s with me, and you’d better remember that if you value your bones.’
The man drew in his breath through clenched teeth. ‘Right,’ he said.
Jack gave his arm another tug before he released the man. ‘Off with you,’ he said, in an unruffled manner. The man looked first at Jack, then at Frances. ‘Bloody hell.’ The sulky expression in his face changed to white-hot fury.
Jack met his gaze with a cold smile.
The man turned on his heels and swaggered off, as if to show he didn’t care.
She bit on her knuckles to refrain from sobbing.
He clasped both her shoulders. ‘I’m here,’ he said. ‘I won’t let anything bad happen to you, sweetheart.’ She began to shake.
His eyes narrowed. ‘Did that bastard touch you?’
She shook even harder. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘But, oh, Jack …’
‘Yes?’
‘The voice. It was the same voice. That was Croaky.’ Tears welled up in her eyes. ‘It was when he said he’d take me lakeside. He recognised me, didn’t he?’ Her knees buckled under her.
Jack lifted her up with one swift movement and carried her ten steps to the car. He closed the door behind her and walked over to the driver’s side. He revved up the engine as soon as the motor came to life.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘Following our man. We need to make sure Croaky won’t bother you again.’ His voice became gentle. ‘Unless you’re too shaken.’
‘No. It was only the shock, and that I couldn’t run away, and I didn’t know where you were.’
Jack peered out of the front window. ‘Over there,’ he said. ‘He’s hot-footing it into that alley. Makes me wonder why he’s in such a hurry.’
‘He knows who you are,’ she said. ‘You could see it in his face.’
‘Am I that scary?’
She attempted to smile.
He braked. ‘It’s too narrow down there for the Rover,’ he said. ‘I’ll have to follow Croaky on foot. Lock the doors from inside, Frances. Can you drive? No? Well, if I’m not back in ten minutes, wait until a respectable looking person walks by, roll down the window and send them to get Bluey.’
He pressed a handful of coins into her hand. ‘Give a bob to the messenger, and promise him the rest as soon as he returns with Bluey.’ He threw the door shut and rushed off.
She locked the Rover from inside. The fear came back to haunt her. What if Croaky cut through another back alley and found her here? He might smash in the window to get at her. She slid down on the seat as far as she could.
The silence grew thicker. The street was deserted. She could have been the last person left in the world. A weapon; she needed a weapon. She felt around in the glove compartment. Her fingers touched a cloth-wrapped bundle. She pulled it out, uncovering a spanner and a monkey-wrench. Their solid weight comforted her as she put them into her handbag.
How quiet it was, she thought. Too quiet. Shouldn’t Jack be back by now? A distant scream broke the silence. She couldn’t tell if it was male or female, or human at all, but what if it was Jack?
She fumbled with the lock, jerked the door open and stumbled onto the pavement. A stab of pain shot through her ankle. She ignored it as she limped into the dark alley. The ubiquitous streetlights that made Australia the most modern country in the world had not made it this far. The thin sliver of the moon made a feeble attempt to relieve the dark grey of the night.
She glanced around. The houses closed in on the alley, with barely enough space in between for a man to squeeze through, and solid brick walls enclosed the rear end of the properties.
She limped on. There must be a light somewhere, or voices, or, best of all, Jack’s comforting presence that would end all her fears. But she didn’t know where to find him. Her ankle throbbed. She paused two steps away from the last house.
A cat sat in a half-opened window. It gave her a disinterested stare as she heard the voice again. It said, ‘You looking for anything in particular?’
‘Could be.’ The answer was barely audible, but Frances felt it in her bones it was Jack. Her inside knotted up.
‘Don’t get cocky with me.’ A slapping noise, followed by a long silence.
She sank on to her knees and crawled under the window, thanking heaven for the large bottlebrush planted at the right distance from the house wall for her to hide behind.
The cat jumped down next to her, brushing its tail along her knees. A second scream made Frances flinch and the cat hiss; another feline, she thought with a small part of her brain. That must be what had startled her earlier.
Croaky went on, ‘Maybe I’ll ask you to be my guest while I go fetch your girlfriend. Took me long enough to find her, so how ’bout she and I have a bit of fun together.’
‘I thought I saw something venomous crawling inside the house.’ Jack’s speech was slightly slurred. ‘A big snake, that’s what brought me here.’
‘Get up,’ the other one yelled, only to lower his voice again. ‘You think you’re so smart, White Jack Sullivan, eh? Tell you what, I’ll phone the boss, and then you and I will take a nice trip to Lake Torrens, and tomorrow there’ll be another floater fished out of the water. Your sheila can wait.’
Frances bit her knuckle to prevent herself from crying out. She needed to think, and quick, or Croaky would kill Jack, and then he’d come looking for her.
Jack asked, ‘Who is your boss? If you condemn a man to death it’s fair to let him know who’s the judge and the jury.’
The pause lasted long enough for Frances to hear her own heartbeat. ‘You met his brother, that’s all I’ll say.’
‘Randolph Walker? I thought as much when I saw his weasel-face.’
Another slapping sound. ‘Enough,’ Croaky said. Frances heard a telephone being dialled. ‘It’s me, boss. Yeah, I know I shouldn’t call. Yeah, White Jack’s here. Sure, Lake Torrens. Meet me there in half an hour.’
She crouched deeper as she opened her handbag open to get at her weapons. A tall figure emerged from the entrance; Jack. A second figure followed, poking something into the other man’s back.
The cat jumped into the bottlebrush, snapping a twig.
Croaky swivelled around, pistol pointing away from Jack.
‘Duck,’ Frances yelled, letting the spanner, the monkey-wrench and the horseshoe she’d taken out of her bag fly in rapid succession at the pistol-wielding arm. Please, let her hit the nerve-centre.
The man yelped, dropped the pistol and clutched his arm. Jack jumped on to his back, embracing him in an unrelenting hug.
‘Get the gun, Frances.’
&
nbsp; She scrambled on her knees over to him. The pistol lay cold and heavy in her hands.
‘Aim it at his stomach. It’s a big enough target to hit.’
‘What do we do now?’ she asked. ‘Take him to the police station?’
‘The cavalry should be on its way,’ he said. ‘I met an urchin on my way and sent him to get Bluey.’
His captive struggled. Jack squeezed him tighter. The arm Frances had hit crunched. The man groaned. ‘Can you hold up that gun another minute, kiddo? And where did you learn that sweet throw?’
‘Uncle Sal. I hit him in the same spot once, and his arm went lame. I can also throw knives in case you’re wondering.’
Jack smiled. ‘I knew that you were good to have around.’ He craned his neck. ‘There are our reinforcements. Bluey!’
‘Are you all right, Mr Jack? I’ll take the gun, Miss Frances.’
She felt herself lifted to her feet. ‘And Danny, too,’ she said.
Danny’s teeth gleamed. ‘Your policeman mate will soon be here, Miss. Do you want to hang around or shall I bundle you home?’
‘None of this,’ Jack said. ‘Take Miss Frances to the Chinese doctor in North Terrace to have a look at her ankle, and after that bring her to my apartment to clean up. Tell Ginny to fit her out with clean clothes.’ His gaze met hers. ‘You look like you’ve been dragged through the bush, kiddo, and we don’t want your mother to get the fright of her life.’
‘Wait,’ she said. ‘What’s going to happen now?’
He arched his eyebrow. ‘Good question.’ He cupped her elbow and led her a few steps away, out of earshot.
‘I can’t let you stay, or your name will turn up in Phil’s report, kiddo.’
‘I know, but what about the other man?’ She willed her voice to be firm.
‘Phil should know what he’s doing.’
‘But what if he doesn’t, and the boss goes free?’
‘There’s always that risk,’ Jack said, holding her gaze. ‘Do you have any idea?’
‘Bluey and Croaky are about the same size, right? In the pictures, they’d swap coats.’
‘And we’d turn up at Lake Torrens, with Bluey masquerading as Croaky, holding me at gun-point. I like that. But you have to go now, Frances.’
‘Yes.’
‘You’ll be careful, won’t you?’
‘Always.’ Jack said. ‘Sweet dreams. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
25
Frances smiled all the way home. Dr Lum Yow had bandaged her ankle and provided her with a bottle of his famous ‘Cure-All’ tonic, Ginny had brushed out her clothes and produced a pair of real silk stockings from Dolores’ stock, and, best of all, she and Jack were safe.
She sank deep into the plush upholstery of the car. She caught Danny’s gaze in the front mirror. He winked at her.
∞∞∞∞
She was too tired to do more than knock on her mum’s bedroom door to let her know she was back, and have a quick wash. Her bed had never felt more tempting. She snuggled deep under the eiderdown and drifted off as soon as her head hit the pillow.
∞∞∞∞
With Frances gone, Jack waited for the police. His prisoner struggled to get free, but the rough side of Bluey’s fist shut him up until the police arrived.
‘Phil?’ He pulled him aside as two officers bundled Croaky into a van.
‘You better come with me to the station for your statement, Jack.’
‘Sure, mate, but later. I’ve got a plan you might like.’
Phil hesitated. Jack put an arm around his shoulder and whispered the details into Phil’s ear.
‘What if anything goes wrong?’ Phil stroked his moustache.
‘You want the boss-cocky?’
Phil nodded.
They drove down to the lake. Bluey squeezed into Croaky’s coat and marched a resisting Jack step by reluctant step towards the water. He dug the gun into Jack’s back.
Jack prayed that their target already waited for them in the shadows, and that the moon would stay behind clouds. Right now, the darkness was their best ally.
A whistle pierced the silence.
Jack and Bluey stopped.
‘Closer,’ a man’s voice said.
Bluey pushed Jack forwards, until only six steps separated Jack and the shadowy figure.
‘Time for a swim, Mr Sullivan. Your turn, Muggins.’
Bluey grunted and waved the gun.
‘No gun. Slip him a knife if you don’t have your cosh. It’s quieter.’
Bluey put the gun away and fumbled in his pocket. Jack lunged himself at the man, landed an upper-cut on his chin and pinned him to the ground.
The man spat in his face.
‘Boss?’ Bluey picked up the man and took him in a choke-hold until Phil appeared out of his hidey-hole and slapped handcuffs on him.
∞∞∞∞
Maggie and Uncle Sal were all agog at breakfast. They didn’t even notice that Frances dragged her left foot.
‘Where’s Phil?’ she asked as Maggie put a piece of already buttered toast on to her plate.
‘He had to leave at the crack of dawn.’ Her mother’s face shone with happiness. ‘Would you believe it, our Phil snatched that horrid man who killed that poor Mr Petty. You can’t imagine how much safer I feel.’
‘That’s wonderful.’ She didn’t know what else to say. Surely Phil had enough sense to keep her part out of it? Maggie would have a heart attack if she knew.
‘Looks like you and Jack had a busy time yourself,’ Uncle Sal said, lowering his right eyelid in a slow wink.
Frances busied herself with the jam.
‘Mind you, Phil can’t tell us much yet, because it’s confidential and the investigation is ongoing, but the relief of it all.’ Maggie sighed.
‘I know how you feel,’ Frances said. ‘Now all he needs to do is catch the thief who took the funeral money from Mrs Jacobs’, and all will be back to normal.’ She heaved herself up.
‘What’s wrong with you?’
‘It’s a slight sprain,’ Frances said. ‘No need to worry, Mum. I’ve got Lum Yow’s tonic, and my ankle should be right in a tick.’ She blew Maggie and Uncle Sal a kiss, snatched her jacket and her cloche off their hook and limped into the crisp morning air to catch the tram, for once unworried about being spotted.
∞∞∞∞
The telephone exchange had as busy a time as she could remember. The lines buzzed and hummed with the excitement as news leaked out that the police had made an arrest over the murder of Michael Petty. It felt as if a heavy blanket had been lifted from her beautiful city.
Jack knocked at the door one minute after her lunch hour began. She gave a start.
‘It’s all right, kiddo,’ Jack said. ‘I dropped in to say hello to Mr Gibbons and ask if I could be of any more help.’
Frances felt a smile spread over her face. ‘You’ve done plenty already, haven’t you?’
‘I hope so,’ Jack said. ‘How’s your ankle today?’
‘Much better,’ she said.
‘Good. Now, where’s your hat?’ He opened the door for her.
‘Where are we going? Balfours’ again?’
‘No. I’m taking you somewhere we can talk undisturbed, if that’s all right with you.’
‘Perfect.’
∞∞∞∞
They sat under a white ash in Elder Park. ‘Lakeside,’ she said, looking at the softly rippling water.
Jack unpacked a picnic hamper bursting with grilled chicken, bread, tomatoes, cheese, fruit and pastries. ‘Lakeside,’ he said. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Why should I? It’s lovely here, without cars and noise and unhappiness.’
He took out a bottle and popped it open, filling two glasses with a yellow liquid.
‘That’s not the champagne you were talking about, is it?’ she asked.
‘Smell it,’ he said.
Frances sniffed. It was fruity and tangy, very much like … ‘Lemonade,’ she said, surprised.
‘I know I promised you champagne but that will have to wait until tonight.’
‘Pity.’ Frances sipped while trying to decide what to eat first. She took a chicken drumstick. ‘What happened after I left?’
‘A lot, thanks to you. Your plan worked like a charm. Bluey posed as Croaky, and Walker brother number two fell for it. Phil led us all the way to the police headquarters off Kilgore. Mug Muggins, or Croaky if you prefer, languished in a cell, and when we marched boss-cocky along, we flanked him and turned his head so it looked like we were deep in a friendly conversation.’
He chuckled. ‘Mug couldn’t wait to spit out the whole story in the hope of turning King’s evidence.’
Frances stared at him, drumstick forgotten in her hand. ‘Sweet!’
‘I’ll tell you the details tonight, over that champagne.’
‘What about Ella-Mae? Was she in on it?’ Embarrassing, how keen she was to hear the worst about the widow, but she didn’t like her, or the way she’d ogled Jack.
‘No. Her ex-boyfriend was, though, knocking on Ella-Mae’s door a couple of times in broad daylight, so neighbours would remember for sure.’
‘But why?’
‘Because that way it would look as if she’d had something to do with the switched jewels. Randolph Walker worked for his older brother, who’d entered a partnership with Michael Petty, enabling him to get his hands on the choicest gems, replacing them.’
‘But how did he get access to the safe in Petty’s house?’
‘If you know where to go, you can hire all kind of talent. My best bet is, he smuggled someone into the house while Ella-Mae was out and Petty was at work. The switch would have been undiscovered for a while, because Petty had no reason to open the safe or to examine every single item in the shop.’
A Matter of Love and Death: a historical mystery you don't want to miss Page 22