Papua

by Peter Watt

  ‘Definitely not this Adolf Hitler who the papers are all talking about,’ Jack said with a short, bitter laugh. ‘She mentioned that she knew him when we were in Sydney and I suspected at the time that she was a bit taken by the bastard.’

  Karin’s face clouded. She vaguely remembered Hitler when he had visited their home in Munich during the winter of 1919. She had instinctively not liked him but had never imagined in her wildest thoughts that the man would rise to such prominence. ‘Her husband’s name is Gerhardt Stahl. He is very high in this Nazi party that I have read about.’

  ‘Never heard her mention his name,’ Jack muttered. ‘Must be a mate of Herr Hitler. But how did Paul get the letter all the way out here?’

  ‘Through the office of Sir Hubert,’ Karin answered. ‘It was simply addressed to him via the Australian authorities here. Paul feels that his sister is in some kind of trouble.’

  ‘Like what?’ Jack frowned.

  ‘As much as Erika appeared to dislike Paul, it is not in her nature to remain so silent for so long. He has what you would call a gut feeling that his sister needs him.’

  Jack could see the pained expression in Karin’s face. It was as if she were struggling with unpalatable facts. ‘Do you think that she is in serious trouble?’

  Karin turned to stare directly into his eyes. ‘I think so – and I think it has something to do with the events unfolding in Germany. I fear that the things that we left behind in the old country will drag Paul into a dangerous situation, one beyond our control.’

  ‘I would never let anything happen to Paul,’ Jack consoled gently. ‘He’s my mate and mates stick together, no matter what.’

  Tears glistened in Karin’s eyes. ‘He has not told you yet but he plans to return to Germany to see Erika. I cannot tell him that I fear his life is in danger if he returns to Munich. I am his wife and I love him. And I know that even if you were to try and convince him not to go he would still return because he loves his sister and feels responsible for her.’

  Jack stared up at the Southern Cross. He had missed its brilliance when he had served in France. If he died he wanted to do so under its crystalline comfort and nowhere else. ‘If he goes to Germany,’ he said quietly, ‘then I will go with him.’

  ‘Thank you, Jack,’ Karin said and wiped away the tears that spilled down her face. ‘I know that my husband will always be safe in your company. You were born to be brothers.’

  Jack broke into one of his broad smiles. ‘Tried to kill each other once,’ he reminded her. ‘But what else would you expect between brothers? Kind of a family thing, I suppose.’

  Karin laughed at his twisted reflection on the bond between the two men. Jack was truly the other half of the man she loved. And in loving her husband she also loved the Australian in ways she knew she could never tell him.

  That night Jack lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Outside a full moon glowed over the plantation. His thoughts were in turmoil: Erika and Germany, Lukas and losing him. Sleep came in the early hours and his terrible dreams returned, but this time Lukas stood by him in the trenches. He could hear his son screaming one word: ‘Why?’ Jack woke with a start and felt the sweat clinging to him. He sat up and propped himself against the bedhead. This had been the first time that he had dreamed of his son. Maybe he was unconsciously accepting that his son was now a man and it was natural that he should share a part of his nightmare. At least there would be no more wars such as that. The GreatWar had proved how futile it was to use science and technology to wage a war no one really won. Admittedly armed conflicts were even now being waged across the globe but they were restricted by national boundaries. Surely no truly civilised nation could ever entertain the idea of starting another global conflict? Jack rose from his bed and found his pipe. He lit it and sat on a chair in his bedroom to watch the sun rise over the coconut trees.

  The following day an incident occurred that was to mar Lukas’s stay at the plantation. Isokihi the Japanese boat builder arrived in one of his launches to drop off supplies for the Manns. Dademo sighted the wooden craft puttering into the bay and went down to assist with the unloading. Karl and Lukas were lounging around on the verandah, taking in the early morning sun.

  ‘Isokihi comes in his boat,’ Dademo called to them as he passed the two boys. ‘You want to come down to the beach?’ The boys glanced at each other and rose from their comfortable cane chairs. ‘What the heck,’ Lukas shrugged and they followed the boss boy.

  Isokihi had already launched a dinghy with a large pile of goods balanced in the stern. When the two boys reached the beach they noticed a tall, well-built young Japanese man with the solid, little Japanese skipper.

  ‘Fuji,’ Karl said quietly. ‘That bastard is working with his old man now.’

  Lukas squinted against the shimmering seas and focused on the figures. He too recognised the man in the boat staring back at them from his days at the primary school in Port Moresby. Fuji had been a fellow student who neither boy liked, always surly and refusing to make friends with the others. It was as if he carried an air of superiority towards those not of Japanese blood. And now here he was years later with the same sneering expression on his face.

  Dademo waded into the sea and helped guide the boat to the beach. Fuji jumped from the boat and turned to stare at the two boys a few yards away.

  ‘G’day, Fuji,’ Karl said by way of greeting, but the young man simply stared at him with an expression of contempt. ‘See you haven’t changed,’ Karl added with the slightest trace of a grin.

  Without a word Fuji turned his back to take the anchor rope and secure the dinghy to the beach. His father clambered over the side to stand beside his son. Dademo carried on, unloading the boxes and parcels of supplies.

  ‘Better give a hand,’ Karl said and the boys walked towards the boat. As Dademo worked one of the parcels fell from his hands and splashed into the surf. Isokihi swung on Dademo with amazing speed for a man of his age and the Papuan went down in the water. It happened so fast neither Karl nor Lukas had time to intervene. When Dademo struggled to his feet gasping for air, blood ran down his face. Isokihi had his fists raised again to strike, but this time Karl leapt forward. With all his strength he swung at the side of the Japanese boat builder’s head. The blow was true and the solidly built man staggered, his ear ringing from the impact. Fuji spun to deliver a kick to Karl but missed as the heavily built young man moved with unexpected speed for one so big. He retaliated by moving in on the young Japanese man before he could regain his balance and hammering his face and body with hard, stinging blows, driving Fuji into the sand.

  ‘Your old man doesn’t have the right to hit Dademo,’ Karl gasped. ‘What happened was an accident, you bloody Jap bastard,’ he continued as he stood over the young man. ‘No one has a right to maltreat Dademo.’

  Fuji glared up at Karl. The battering had felt like a series of steam pistons pounding his body. Already one of his eyes was swelling to the point of almost closing. Fuji turned to seek out his father who stood in the surf, holding his damaged ear. The impact had burst a drum and the pain was acute. Lukas stood between Fuji and his father, obviously covering Karl’s back against a possible retaliation.

  ‘I think you should drop off the supplies and leave immediately,’ Lukas said calmly. ‘What has happened here will remain on the beach. There are no hard feelings but you have to understand that, as Karl said, no one goes around hitting Dademo. He’s a bit like family here.’

  Fuji rose warily from the sand to assist his father. Dademo had also recovered and quickly unloaded the last couple of boxes from the boat, the blood still streaming down his face from his smashed nose. Fuji went to his father who greeted him with a silent glare of pure contempt. Fuji recoiled from the unspoken rejection for not saving face in front of the barbarians. With his head lowered he commenced to push the dinghy out to sea. ‘I will come back one day and kill you, Mann,’ he spat as he clambered aboard followed by his father. ‘I will never forge
t this.’

  Both boys gave the Japanese boat builder and his son distance as they departed. Watching as Fuji guided the boat back to the small coastal trader anchored in the bay. ‘What do you think will happen now?’ Lukas asked.

  ‘Nothing,’ Karl replied as he rubbed one badly swollen knuckle. ‘Fuji is all talk and I doubt that his old man is going to complain about being done by a kid like me.’

  Lukas smiled at Karl’s description of himself. He was hardly a kid and he had the build of a young bull.

  Dademo glanced up the beach. ‘I think Master Paul is coming down,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank you, Mr Karl,’ he added quickly, but Karl’s shrug dismissed any more need for thanks. It was just something that was expected when defending the honour of friends and family.

  Paul frowned when he came close enough to see Dademo’s injuries. He could sense from the quiet behaviour of the two boys that something had occurred. ‘What happened?’ he asked calmly. ‘How is it that Dademo has blood on his face?’

  ‘Dademo fell over and hit his face on the side of Isokihi’s boat when he was unloading stores,’ Karl replied, wanting to nurse his hand as it throbbed with pain. ‘Nothing much else.’

  Paul glanced at his boss boy to confirm Karl’s story. ‘That is all, Master Paul,’ Dademo said but could not look Paul straight in the eye.

  Paul turned his attention to the coastal trader in the bay. Whatever had happened on the beach had been settled here, he thought. If Karl was concealing the truth it was because he was old enough to make such decisions. There was nothing to be gained by pursuing the matter – at least not for the moment. ‘Well, let’s fetch some of the boys from the shed to come down and get these supplies up to the house,’ he finally said.

  Only that evening did Paul learn all that had happened on the beach when Dademo came to him with the truth in case Isokihi laid a formal complaint with the authorities in Port Moresby. Paul listened quietly and thanked Dademo for his honesty before dismissing the boss boy for the evening. It had taken a lot for him to come forward but Dademo’s concern was for Karl who had intervened on his behalf. Paul would let the matter drop. What was done, was done.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Jack’s leave with Lukas in Papua went all too quickly. Although Lukas was missing the beautiful Miss Sarah Sullivan he found plenty to entertain himself with in the company of Karl. They spent their days riding into the hills, swimming in the warm waters of the Gulf of Papua and hunting pigeons. And there was also the distraction of the Moresby social set to tempt two young men from any thoughts of fidelity to their respective girlfriends in Sydney. Visits were made to neighbouring plantations where the young ladies wore formal dresses and danced to popular songs on the gramophone, passing the night amidst the frangipanis and hibiscus that filled every room with their heady fragrance.

  In the men’s tennis doubles the young men teamed up and proved unbeatable. The singles competition was a cliffhanger as the boys were pitted against each other and both fought hard to win. In the end Karl was declared winner with a final ace in front of an audience of admiring young ladies, the daughters of planters and government administrators. Lukas accepted his defeat with grace. Although he had lost at tennis he won in love and danced that night away in the arms of the prettiest of the spectators.

  Meanwhile Jack had taken time out from the tennis tournament to visit his old friend Kwong Yu Sen at his house on the outskirts of Moresby. He was greeted warmly and surprised to see that the Chinese businessman was now the proud father of twin girls and a son. Although he had lost contact with his old friend, he thought that such important events would have been transmitted to him. The girls were aged six and Sen’s baby son gurgled contentedly from his cradle.

  ‘When they are older I will return to China,’ Sen said with a sigh as Jack poked at the chubby little pride of his father.

  ‘You have everything here,’ Jack replied in his surprise. ‘Why would you want to leave?’

  ‘Everything but the respect of you Europeans,’ he answered with an edge of bitterness. ‘All the money I have cannot buy respect here.’ Jack accepted what his friend said. Sen was wealthier than most Europeans in the Moresby district and they resented him for that as much as for his race. ‘And this country has taken Iris from our lives. My wife has never been the same since we received the news that she was O’Leary’s captive all those years ago. She insists that her sister still calls to her from over the oceans for her help. It has caused a rift between us,’ he added sadly.

  At the mention of Iris’s name Jack ceased playfully prodding Sen’s son. He too often had recriminations on the matter. ‘You should have told me what you were planning when you sent Paul on that expedition up the Fly River. I should have been with him. Didn’t you have any faith in me to find her?’

  ‘I could not tell you, Jack. I feared that you might be killed,’ Sen replied, hanging his head. ‘Mr Mann was not as close to me as you and I rightly judged him to be a very competent man capable of carrying out the mission.’

  Jack had to concede to his point about Paul’s competence and was touched by Sen’s concern for his welfare. So much for the inscrutable reputation of the Chinese, he thought. ‘You haven’t heard if O’Leary ever returned to Papua?’

  ‘Not a word,’ Sen replied. ‘I suppose he knew that if he came back Sir Hubert would have hauled him in for questioning about his recruiting methods. The missionaries received reports on the way he was going about it and have a lot of pull with Sir Hubert in such matters as the welfare of the natives.’

  ‘Maybe one day we will get lucky,’ Jack mused. ‘And when that day comes O’Leary will answer for what he has done in the past.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Sen echoed, but without much conviction. He would still have to live with an emotionally disturbed wife who continued to speak to her half sister as if she were in the room. For all that he knew Iris could be dead. ‘Come, we will have tea,’ he said to distract them from their gloomy thoughts.

  Jack followed him to the verandah where they were served tea by a haus meri. They sat and drank for a while in contemplative silence. Finally Sen opened the conversation with what was on his mind.

  ‘I have had word from Sydney that Quentin Arrowsmith is out to get you, Jack.’

  Jack merely smiled. ‘We have crossed swords on more than one or two occasions,’ he replied. ‘It seems that Arrowsmith is a man who keeps a grudge.’

  ‘You must have caused him a great loss of face to be so intent on destroying you.’

  ‘I think I once made him feel real fear. I don’t know that he had ever before considered his fate at the hands of a man with nothing to lose.’

  ‘Then be careful,’ Sen said quietly. ‘He is a man who will stop at nothing to destroy those who he dislikes. And it seems that you are his number one enemy.’

  ‘Probably because I have cost him a lot of money in our latest transactions. I went under him in a big purchase that it seems he had spent quite a bit of money on. He thought he had it in the bag until I used a couple of my own contacts in government to cut him out.’

  Sen nodded. He feared for his friend. Quentin Arrowsmith was also a man with contacts. He even suspected that Arrowsmith was capable of considering murder as a business option.

  Jack bid his old friend farewell and was driven back to Moresby. There he stopped off at the hotel and shouted a round of drinks for all in the bar. He was cheered and repaid in shouts by the old timers who remembered the brash young man who had crossed the border into German territory before the Great War. And now he was a successful miner and generous to friends to boot.

  Jack was very drunk and happy when he was dropped off at Paul’s plantation the next day by a couple of prospectors in their truck. He sported a black eye and a split lip but could not remember whether he had fallen over or had been knocked down in a fight at the hotel. Karin shook her head and called Dademo to fetch a couple of the boys to take Jack down to the surf for an involuntary swim.

  Ma
ny hours later he sat on the verandah with Paul who grinned at his friend’s sorry state. ‘Would you like a schnapps?’ he asked mischievously.

  Jack leaned forward in his cane chair with a groan. ‘Bugger off,’ he replied ungraciously.

  ‘You were just unlucky that Karin saw you first when you got home,’ Paul said as he lit the most pungent cigar in his possession. The thick and acrid smoke drifted towards Jack.

  ‘No sympathy for a dying war veteran,’ he said. ‘Just gave me a ten minute dressing down about setting a good example to the boys after Dademo had been given instructions to drown me. Hell, I would rather face a bunch of enraged Kukus with poisoned arrows than your wife again.’

  Paul burst into a gale of laughter that hurt Jack’s head. ‘My friend,’ he finally said, ‘why do you think you have never seen me drunk?’

  ‘What’s this I hear about you planning to go to Germany?’ Jack countered. He was not sharing his friend’s good humour in his present state and got the response he wanted. Paul grew serious and stared at the coconut trees, waving in the last onshore breeze for the day.

  ‘Karin told you,’ he said. ‘I have to go. I know that Erika is in some sort of trouble and she is still my sister, despite everything.’

  ‘You know that I will be going with you,’ Jack said quietly. ‘And Karin thinks that is a bloody good idea.’

  ‘What reason would you have for going with me?’ Paul asked with the raise of an eyebrow.

  ‘Always wanted to see the country of my mother’s people,’ Jack answered. ‘And I promised that I would take Lukas to see it too.’ He was lying but knew that his son would be ecstatic at the opportunity to visit Europe. ‘Might even drop over to Ireland to visit my old man’s relatives while we are at it.’

  ‘That the only reason you would go with me? Or is it that you would want to see Erika again?’

  ‘Karin said she is married with a kid,’ Jack casually countered. ‘Nothing more than that.’