The Secrets of Black Dean Lighthouse

by Jack Dey

  “Oh, this is too good to be true. I knew she was underage... and a runaway, too!”

  Grabbing the file, Willis stumbled over his chair in the haste to get to Roy. Clutching the file like it was of great personal value, he burst into Roy’s office, but Roy was still on the phone and gave Willis an annoyed stare.

  He held the file up to Roy, pointing and mouthing, “I know where she is.”

  “Gotta go!” Roy ended his phone call in a hurry, throwing the phone back into its cradle.

  “This girl... I know where she is! She’s living in an apartment down the road from me and get this... she’s pregnant!”

  “You’d better be right, Willis. Come on, lets go pay a little visit.”

  *~*~*~*

  Chapter 45

  The Redden apartment was quiet in the early afternoon hour and after completing a sundry list of household chores, Becky was exhausted, especially since yesterday’s fiasco with Doctor Munroe and Doctor Sarah refused to leave her mind. She had been churning over Munroe’s apparent desire to abort a baby on the suspicion of something nasty. Even if her baby did have the disease or syndrome, whatever it was Munroe was so afraid of, she wouldn’t kill her child just because it may cost them some money, a little discomfort and extra work. Doctor Sarah represented a group of people whom the media portrayed as kooks and agitators, but they were the only ones who had gently explained what was going on with her baby and encouraged her away from aborting on such shaky evidence, thus putting her mind at rest.

  The graphic explanation of the abortion process and the dangers to the mother kept replaying in Becky’s mind. What sort of a person could do that to an innocent and helpless baby? A frightened woman, who had been deceived by medical practitioners like Munroe, she conceded. After an afternoon nap had been advised by Doctor Sarah, Becky wandered into their bedroom and lay down on their bed. Staring at the ceiling, she pondered the different approaches of the two doctors. Where Munroe seemed to be money focused and pushed through his patients as fast as he could—Becky sarcastically wondered whether he got paid by the abortion referral—Sarah, however, disarmed the fear and spent whatever time the mother needed to understand the emotional pregnancy journey and the importance of her child. The difference, she concluded, was passion for life on one hand; and passion for money, on the other.

  A sudden outside noise awoke Becky with a start, but her mind was heavy with sleep and she looked around the room, confused. It was still daylight and the bedside clock indicated mid afternoon, having slept for two hours, yet the evening meal needed to be prepared and she had to get to it. Pushing herself up from the mattress, she groaned and eventually shuffled out into the kitchen to prepare, knowing Brett normally arrived home just after 5:30 pm.

  With the dinner simmering on the stove and the table set, Becky glanced at the clock, realising Brett would be close. Longing for him to be home, she hurried to the bathroom, combed her hair, put on some perfume and freshened her face. Her man’s arms around her and his child growing in her womb were delights that made her feel alive and fulfilled. When the door finally opened, she met his hug and kissed him with warmth, ending the evening ritual with a reciprocated, "I love you."

  Brett turned to face the landing at the front of the apartment where a large cardboard box was sitting against the wall. “What’s with the box?” Brett asked, holding the door open and staring outside.

  “What?” Becky threw him a questioning look. She pushed around him and peered out the door. “I don’t know.”

  Brett picked up the box, and stuffed partially inside the folded cardboard flap, a note hung out. Removing the note, he read it aloud. “These are part of my most treasured possessions. Your baby blankets, bibs and woollen diapers. I wondered whether you might want to use them with your baby. If you don’t want them, can you return them to me and I will keep them. I didn’t want to disturb you as I figured you might have been resting. Love, Mum Emma."

  Becky sighed. “I heard something earlier in the afternoon. It must have been Mum dropping it off. She is so thoughtful,” Becky mused. “Can you bring it in for me, honey? I’ll go through it tomorrow.”

  Brett carried the box inside and placed it on a table in the lounge room where Becky could unload the contents without too much reaching. Becky began to reminisce over her beautiful and thoughtful mum and asked Brett if he minded waiting for his dinner until she could contact Emma and thank her.

  Brett shook his head. “I can wait.” And as the phone call lingered, he listened patiently as Becky affirmed her mum..

  “I will use them, Mum, and I’ll take good care of them. Thank you for being so thoughtful,” Becky ended the call and took her place at the table.

  “Guess what?” Brett teased.

  “What?”

  “Smiley and Jacqui have set a date for the wedding,” Brett announced cheerfully.

  “When?!” Becky returned excitedly.

  “A year from today and he wants me to be his best man.”

  Becky laughed. “You’ll be the best, best man for the job, Brett.”

  “I think Jacqui has her sights set on you for matron of honour from what she was saying today, but I’ll let her confirm that.”

  “I hope I have my figure back by then,” Becky worried and then broke into a smile at the thought of being Jacqui’s MOH.

  The night once again passed slowly for Becky, but Brett’s heavy breathing told her he was enjoying his sleep and she felt envious. The baby seemed to be growing each day and the little kicks were getting more intense, often waking her from her sleep. It didn’t matter which way she turned, she couldn’t get comfortable. Feeling frustrated with sleep’s indomitable absence, she raised herself from the bed under great effort and sauntered over to a chair by the wall. Two large pillows lay across the seat and she reached for the top one, carrying it back to the mattress, then lowered herself to the bed carefully, trying not to wake Brett. In her efforts, she crashed to the innersprings, sending a bump through the mattress that disturbed him.

  “You okay, Becky?” Brett whispered hoarsely.

  “Sorry, honey. I can’t get comfortable enough to sleep and I just needed a pillow to support my legs. I was trying to be as quiet as I could,” she whispered. Becky turned to lie down and placed the pillow between her legs, her back facing Brett. Brett sidled up and began to gently rub her spine and before long, she’d drifted off into a deep sleep.

  When she woke, the room was aglow with warm sunlight and a note was attached to Brett’s pillow. Didn’t want to wake you. Have a lovely day and see you when I get home. All my love, Brett. She smiled at Brett’s note and then checked the time. It was 9 am. Feeling deeply refreshed, amazed that she had slept so long and that the baby hadn’t woken her with its little kicks, Becky eased her legs over the edge of the bed and pushed herself up with her arms behind her, slowly rising to her feet. Throwing her dressing gown over her shoulders and feeding her arms into the sleeves, she started to walk toward the kitchen. A series of little kicks alerted her to the fact that Baby was awake and was trying to get comfortable again.

  Becky held her stomach and giggled, “You awake too, little one?”

  She reached for the kettle to prepare for her much coveted morning cup of coffee since under Doctor Sarah’s advice, she’d cut her intake down to one cup a day. The bright spot of her morning was to sit in the warm sunshine at the kitchen table with her coffee and gaze out the window into the bushland next door. As she reached for a clean cup from the cupboard, her glance deflected to the box of baby items Emma had brought over, bringing a smile to her face.

  Becky gently rubbed her baby bump and with an air of excitement, she spoke to her tummy. "We’re going to have some fun going through my old blankets and you can have the same ones I did. Wouldn’t you like that?”

  Feeling relaxed and contented and buoyed by the coffee, Becky waddled over to the cardboard container sitting on the lounge table and untangled the flaps, exposing the first layer
of cloth. A heavy smell of naphthalene flakes met her senses as she unloaded the box and started to trace her early childhood history. By the time the box was empty, a large pile of bibs, blankets and woollen diapers filled the tabletop, yet she was particularly drawn to a beautifully embroidered soft pink baby blanket.

  Wow! You don’t get quality stuff like this anymore, she thought.

  Becky admired the needlework and turned it over in her hands, looking for a tag to see where it was made. Finding what she was looking for, she squinted to read the faded manufacturer's name and managed to piece together the meaning of the worn embroidery.

  Especially made for you by the skilful hands of the blind.

  There was another smaller inscription overleaf in the same stitching that she couldn’t read. Becky placed the blanket down and wandered into the spare bedroom that Brett sometimes used as an office. Searching each drawer in turn, she eventually found a magnifying glass in the bottom chamber before returning to the lounge and focusing the glass on the tiny embroidered inscription and tried to read.

  To... something... little... something... Rebe... love... something... atie.

  Confused, but determined, Becky tried to fluff the embroidery with her fingernail and had another read with the magnifying glass.

  To... um! To our...! To our little...!

  Becky licked her finger and ran it over the inscription again, hoping to get more clarity, then re-read.

  To our little mir... miracle! To our little miracle Rebe... Rebecca! To our little miracle Rebecca love... something... atie... Katie!

  To our little miracle Rebecca love something Katie!

  Becky’s mouth fell open and she dropped the magnifying glass in shock. What did this mean? Could it be a coincidence, or was it really a message for her to someday find, designed to cross the ages and the mysteries of her family history? She couldn’t make out the final word, but the message was clear. This was her blanket and if she had to make a guess, this little blanket was what Emma and Jacob had brought her home in and the message was about her as a baby... from someone who knew her blood family. Feeling a rising hope, Becky sighed and hugged the little pink blanket and then flopped, shocked, into the lounge chair, wondering what significance the little message held.

  Who was Katie?!

  Was it the Katie who haunted her dreams?

  Was Katie her mother, trapped in some horrific nightmare trying to reach out to Becky?

  Why did the message call her a miracle baby?

  Did Emma know about this inscription?

  She tussled with her thoughts. Emma probably had never seen the inscription. It was only by chance that Becky had decided to check the label and had had to use a magnifier, even with her youthful eyes.

  *~*~*~*

  Chapter 46

  Provincial Legislative Commander Robert Draper pondered his growing workload pinning him to his desk. Two ships had disappeared in as many months, vanishing from the face of the earth. Head office was demanding results and a successful conclusion to the disappearances, but he had nothing. The times and tides would put Black Dean right at the centre of the suspect list, yet evidence was scant to confirm his theories and Black Dean wasn’t about to give up her secrets.

  The wild claims of Captain Lewis, stating his near collision with a missing renegade cutter bearing the name of Rebellious, then the next day he and his ship loaded with dignitaries disappear into thin air, adding to his dilemma. To top it off, Emit Krueger had been onto the divisional chief, demanding an apology from Draper over his accusations of Krueger’s involvement in the disappearance of his own vessel, Rebellious. The chief had warned Draper to back off, stopping short of demanding the apology, understanding Draper’s suspicions of the wealthy man, so he let the apology slide... for now.

  Draper sighed audibly and pushed the back of his office chair into a semi-reclining position, his oversized frame stretching the chair’s integrity to its limits. As if all these worries weren’t enough, now a couple of cowboy businessmen were attempting to build a lighthouse on the rocky wall of the Barrett Passage above Black Dean. He’d given the pushy Desapo fellow his tentative agreement to the scheme and a temporary permit to proceed pending a full examination of the working environment. It was Draper’s responsibility to make sure Black Dean didn’t have a field day with the lives of those involved in this crazy undertaking.

  *~*~*~*

  Bellaruse paced the floor of his box-like room in the Lightning Strike Hotel and after Desapo had recognised him, he needed to keep a low profile. The flea bag hotel was damaging his dignity, but he had no choice other than to take up residence there as the Desapo brothers had clear run of the best accommodation in town and if he tried to avail himself of a room befitting his dignity, he was sure the Desapos would put him out of business and run him out of town. Through the years, Bellaruse had managed to keep one step ahead of the troublesome brothers, but now he was playing Russian roulette and forced into a dangerous game of cat and mouse.

  His hunt for the earl’s sister had come to a skidding halt and so far, she had eluded him, with the search becoming more difficult now that the Desapos were aware of his presence. However, he had another more vexing problem and if the Desapos succeeded in making Black Dean navigable, he would lose a faithful ally and a perfect way of committing an untraceable crime. The circumstances were forcing him to show his hand and should the earl’s sister elude him indefinitely, he needed a way of destroying the Desapos’ scheme and in so doing, allow Bellaruse to continue his pirate activity undetected. If he was caught, they had enough evidence on his previous... business dealings to put him away for life.

  Gawking nervously from behind the yellowing drapes covering the small window of his tiny room, Bellaruse scanned the busy harbour and determined the lighthouse construction had to fail and he had to do everything in his power to assure its failure and ensure his own survival.

  *~*~*~*

  Desapo couldn’t determine whether the success of his estimate for Black Dean was a good thing or not. Although the contract had been signed, Kruger had insisted on a default clause. Should the lighthouse take longer to build than the two year contracted term, then he would lose twenty-five percent of the total contract price and a further five percent for each month of delay. Desapo worried that unforeseen circumstances could severely hurt his bottom line, even though he had doubled the original estimate. Black Dean was an unknown and most people thought his plan was sheer lunacy. Although Neddy stood by him, if things went bad, it would be Desapo’s business and empire that would suffer and not his older brother’s.

  Desapo began to worry about the ruse of Neddy being in charge, wondering whether he should come clean with the ladies and just bury his secret admiration for the black haired beauty. She was proving to be more elusive than he expected, and playing a game putting Neddy as the boss would make it difficult for Desapo to attend to the work on the job site; but then he figured, now that Neddy had Tess’ respect and admiration, he wouldn’t take too kindly to being ousted out of his role. Desapo loved his brother but he also had a company to run, and so just maybe he would play along for a little longer and see how things panned out.

  Desapo closed the door to his room and walked up the staircase to the third floor, ascending the steps three at a time and making the third floor in five swift movements. Once he was at the head of the stairs, he did a sharp right turn and located the number 18 identifying Neddy’s room. Rapping loudly, the door to his brother’s room swung open. Neddy was expecting him.

  “Want some breakfast?” Neddy mumbled, chewing on a piece of steak delivered to his room via room service.

  “No thanks, Mr Parduck,” Desapo answered sarcastically, wondering whether he should have increased the estimate again to cope with Neddy’s luxurious tastes.

  “Hey listen, Desapo,” Neddy tried to speak, chewing over a large mouthful, “I told you this was gonna cost you, brother.”

  “That brings me to another
concern. How am I going to be able to conduct my business with you masquerading as the boss?”

  “That’s your worry, Desapo. Tell me who it was that practically forced me into playing the part?”

  Desapo sighed. “Yeah, it was pretty shortsighted of me to fall for a woman who has inward seeing eyes.”

  “I hate to tell you this, little brother, but like I said before, she would be perfect for you.”

  “What are you inferring, Neddy?! That I have eyes for myself?!” Desapo chided.

  “If the shoe fits,” Neddy teased.

  “Can we get off my character assassination and onto the busy day ahead?” Desapo grumbled.

  Neddy shrugged, dabbing his lips with a white cloth napkin and then swallowed the last of a cup of coffee. “The office has been leased and as soon as we have the phones connected, we can get the platform and the crew mobilised from down south. I’ve made a list of what’s needed so Tess and Katie can work through each item, organising all the stone and cutting gear,” Neddy handed the list to Desapo, who ran his eyes down the page, mentally checking off things.

  “I think I just had another brain wave,” Neddy remarked.

  “What’s this one going to cost me?” Desapo agitated sarcastically.

  “If you don’t want to hear it, I’ll just keep it to myself,” Neddy’s indignant crow told Desapo his brother was becoming short fused.

  “Come on, Neddy. You just tortured my character,” Desapo complained.

  Neddy grinned. “Okay. We can get around your problem of access to the job by me hiring you as a consultant engineer.”

  Desapo coughed. ”You are going to hire me?!”

  “Can you come up with a better way for you to be hanging around all the time without causing suspicion?” Neddy challenged.

  “Yeah! We call this whole charade off and I take back my company!” Desapo groaned.

  “Oh, no you don’t! Tess thinks I am the boss and I think she may be developing a liking for me,” Neddy countered.