Ill-Gotten Gains

by Evans, Ilsa

  ‘Have you told Mum?’

  ‘Yes. And she thinks it’s a good idea too. With or without carcasses.’ I looked at the clock. ‘God, it’s half past four. Why aren’t I in bed?’

  Petra sighed as she picked up Deb’s phone again. ‘Come on, we’d better get to work.’

  I nodded, rather reluctantly, and then typed in Werner Haas. Apart from a mention on two electoral rolls he had no other information so I wrote him down. The next seven names were crossed off for a variety of reasons, such as age, marital status and, in one case, dwarfism. I suspected it would have been more difficult to cover her tracks had she run off with a dwarf. This wasn’t Snow White.

  ‘Thought I had them for a moment!’ Petra sat back. ‘Thomas Littleton married a Matilda in 1886 but the wrong one. She was born in 1860 and she’s butt ugly.’

  ‘Maybe she was good in bed.’

  ‘Well, she’d been married twice before so she had to have something going for her.’

  The door opened and Deb slipped inside. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Slowly. Is it time to swap already?’

  ‘Yep.’ She came over to stand behind Petra. ‘Is that all you’ve done?’

  ‘There were a couple of complicated ones,’ said Petra. ‘Required extra time. I thought it was important that we be thorough.’

  ‘You’re right. Well done.’

  I stood and picked up my coat. ‘My turn then. How much time have we got left?’

  ‘Forty minutes max.’ Deb sighed. ‘That’ll bring us to five-thirty and we can’t risk staying any longer. This is shaping up as a real fizzer.’

  The chill enveloped me as I left, even worse now that I had spent an hour in the warmth. The only area that remained snug was my neck, encased in foam. I thought about running up and down the stairs for a while, but instead simply took up my earlier position on the windowsill. Nothing had changed. No visible signs of injury, say forensic experts. Victim most likely bored to death.

  For about twenty minutes I played with mental floor plans, mostly around the bottom floor of my proposed residence. I thought about how tired I was, which prompted a series of yawns, my chin pressing down into the collar. Then I decided to visit the bathroom before my replacement arrived. The joys of a middle-aged bladder. I had just settled myself when I heard a muffled whoosh, which was a little disconcerting. But the house was almost one hundred and fifty years old so a few idiosyncrasies were to be expected. I wondered what this room had been back then, because it was doubtful that it had always been a ladies room with three stalls, two washbasins and a hand-dryer. It was odd to think that the girl we were searching for had actually lived here at one time, wandered these halls, touched the walls, gazed through the windows.

  The latter thought reminded me that I was supposed to be on guard duty so I finished up, washed quickly and went back to my windowsill. The minutes ticked past slowly, although I had no way of knowing how many. It did seem as if I should have been replaced by now. I decided to count to sixty-nine, because it was three times my favourite number, and then go and hurry them along. I had only reached twenty when the sound of a door opening echoed up the stairwell. I froze, and then leapt to my feet as the stairs creaked beneath heavy footsteps. With my heart hammering, I ran down to the office and pushed at the door. It was locked. I stared at it stupidly and tried again, with similar results.

  ‘Petra! Deb!’ I hissed. ‘Somebody’s here!’

  There was no reply and now the footsteps were even louder. Slow, but relentlessly steady. I looked frantically to my left but the passage ended abruptly just past the Historical Society office. A couple of filing cabinets stood there but I doubted I could cram myself into one of the drawers. Filed under P for petrified. I hesitated another second and then ran lightly back the way I had come, hoping to be able to duck into the alcove. But I had barely reached the last office when a darkened shape hove into view. Both the shape and I immediately stopped, mid-movement. I wondered if it could see me as clearly as I could see it. After a few moments it began to slowly advance up the remaining steps. It reached to one side and light flooded the passageway.

  ‘Nell? Nell Forrest?’

  ‘Oh my god, Will. Oh god.’ I put one hand up to my chest. ‘I thought –’

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I replied, opting for the attack.

  ‘I came in early. So much to get done. But hey, I work here! It’s not even five-thirty!’

  ‘Really?’ I didn’t know what to say next. Where were Petra and Deb?

  His surprise had turned into a frown. Without saying another word he strode forward, pushed past me and went down to the society office. He tried the door and then fished out his keys and unlocked it. The door swung open but he didn’t enter, instead he looked back towards me. ‘You’ve been in here. It’s still warm.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Will, I really am. But it was the only way to finish our – my research. I couldn’t let anyone know because of the risks. After what happened to Sam, you know.’

  ‘Nothing happened to Sam. He was killed by Ned.’

  ‘No, I don’t believe he was. I think he discovered something about Majic, a secret, and he was killed because of it. Ned too.’

  Will stared at me, and then turned towards the empty room again. After a few long minutes, he looked back but his gaze now seemed unfocused. ‘What did you find out?’

  ‘That Petar Majic may have been murdered. That he was married, and the original James Sheridan tried to cover that up. He falsified documents, married the widow. There was a child also and she should have inherited everything. But she was defrauded.’

  ‘They tried to find her!’

  I blinked. Then moved sideways, towards the stairs. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘I was told,’ replied Will quickly. ‘Sam told me, the evening he died. Before. I just haven’t said anything because, Nell, don’t you realise what this means? If it gets out, the town will be ruined! Majic is made of Sheridans. Sheridan Road, Sheridan Lane, Sheridan House.’

  ‘That doesn’t make it right.’

  Will took a step forward. ‘But who is it hurting? Even if the girl had descendants, they aren’t part of this.’ He spread both arms out wide. ‘They don’t know Majic. And what about this centre? Everything I’ve – we’ve worked for! Do you realise we could lose it all?’

  ‘I doubt it. There might be compensation but this place at least should be safe.’

  ‘But you don’t know that. Are you willing to take the risk? What about the commemoration this weekend? The statue of Petar Majic and James Sheridan side by side? We’d be the laughingstock of the country. Nell, I’m begging you, don’t do this.’

  I stared at him. ‘Did you kill Sam?’

  ‘No! Certainly not!’

  ‘Did you beg him also, and he said no? And my car! Did you try to kill me?’

  Will closed his eyes and sucked in air, then let it out in a sigh that sounded visceral. ‘I just don’t understand. Why couldn’t you leave it alone? Look at everything the Sheridans have done for this town! They’ve provided employment, donated this centre, even sponsored the football team. There’s not a board in town without a Sheridan on it. You can’t trip over a working bee that doesn’t have a Sheridan involved. James is the mayor! Surely they’ve compensated for a mistake made one hundred and fifty years ago?’

  ‘A mistake?’ I glanced stiffly towards the stairs, calculating my chances of making it before Will. They were fairly good. ‘Even if James Sheridan wasn’t a murderer, he was certainly a cheat. That’s a crime, a series of crimes, not a mistake. They shouldn’t be in a position to provide employment, or sponsor teams. And the house wasn’t theirs to donate.’

  ‘This is because of Tessa Sheridan, isn’t it? You’re trying to get revenge.’

  I shook my head slowly. ‘You’re mad.’

  ‘So now what I am supposed to do?’
His voice came out in a querulous whine. After a moment I realised he actually expected an answer.

  ‘It’s over, Will. I’m not the only one who knows all this.’

  ‘What?’ He shook his head. ‘That’s not true. Who? Who else?’

  ‘Me for starters,’ said Petra from the stairwell. ‘And Deb Taylor, who is right now calling the police.’

  I whipped around, as far as the collar allowed. Relief flooded my body, mixing with the adrenalin. Behind Petra was Deb, who was talking rapidly into her phone. I looked back at my sister, just in time to see her eyes widen. Then suddenly there was an arm around my neck wrenching me backwards. The collar took most of the force, but it still hurt. Instinctively I clawed at the arm as I staggered, trying not to lose my balance. My hat flipped forward, covering my face, so that now not only was I being dragged backwards by a maniac but I was also in darkness. I kicked out but my foot caught in the hem of my coat and drove us both sideways, into the wall.

  ‘I’ll kill her!’ he said shrilly. ‘Don’t think I won’t do it! If you don’t –’

  A muffled thud cut his voice off mid-rant and suddenly I was free. I collapsed, my foot still caught in the coat so that one leg twisted beneath my weight. I yelped even as I looked sideways to where Will was now sitting beside me with his hand to his nose. Blood streamed out between his fingers, dripping onto his shirt. He removed his hand for a moment and stared at it in disbelief.

  ‘You bitth! You hit me!’

  Petra was rubbing her knuckles. ‘God, that hurt.’

  I scuttled sideways, away from Will. My neck, which had been feeling better, was now throbbing again. And so was my leg. I tried to straighten the collar but it seemed to be jammed under my left ear. I picked up my hat instead.

  ‘Oh my god!’ Deb loomed into view, staring from Will to me. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘No,’ said Will, with his edge of whine. ‘I need a ambuyance.’

  I glared at her. ‘Where were you two?’

  ‘Where were you?’ returned Petra accusingly. ‘We heard the heating come on so made a run for it. You were supposed to be on guard!’

  ‘We thought you must have already left,’ added Deb. ‘So after we called and you didn’t answer, we went straight outside. We were running around in the dark trying to find you.’

  ‘I suppose all’s well that ends well,’ I replied forgivingly. ‘Besides, it might not be what we intended, but we’ve solved something at least.’

  Deb grinned. ‘We’ve solved more than that. We found him. Matija’s husband.’

  ‘Really?’ I took a deep breath, let it out. ‘That’s even better.’

  ‘Who?’ asked Will. Blood had formed crimson seams between his fingers.

  ‘Petar Majic’s son-in-law,’ said Deb smartly. ‘Avery Logan. The man who Matija Majic ran away with. And married. And had a child with.’

  ‘No. No.’

  I watched Will’s expression slide from disbelief to despair. I felt a little sorry for him in spite of everything. It had all been for nothing. The jarring sound of the rear door echoed up the stairwell and heavy footsteps could be heard hurrying up the stairs. Matthew Carstairs burst into view followed, of course, by Ashley Armistead. I pushed myself back against the wall, hoping to burrow into the plaster.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Ashley, striding forward. He paused beside Deb and took in the scene, then turned to Matthew. ‘Ambulance.’

  ‘It was Will,’ said Deb. ‘He killed them. He tried to kill Nell too. Just now.’

  Ashley stepped over me and hoisted Will to his feet in one movement. Will yelped, and then yelped again as he was firmly manoeuvred down the passageway. Ashley slapped him against the wall and patted him down, ignoring the objections. Matthew had joined him by the time he finished so Ashley left Will in good hands and returned to us. A splatter of blood finished with a smear across his windcheater. He stared at me and took a deep breath.

  I got in first. ‘Before you say anything, can I just say that we didn’t know he’d be here.’

  ‘It’s five-thirty in the morning.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  His gaze remained steady. ‘Where’s your security?’

  ‘Guarding my house. You need to include a lecture at the academy on how not to underestimate a middle-aged woman.’

  An ambulance siren sounded in the distance, rising and falling and getting steadily louder. Ashley looked at Deb. ‘I expected more of you. Breaking and entering?’

  ‘But I have a key. So it’s not breaking and entering. It’s just starting work early.’

  ‘I note you didn’t say you expected more of me,’ said Petra, flexing her hand. ‘I’ll have you know I saved the day.’

  ‘I’d prefer the day didn’t need to be saved at all, but I’m beginning to see that’s a pattern with you lot.’ He gazed at us each in turn, clearly unimpressed. ‘So after we get the ambulance officers to check you out, we’ll go for a little trip down to the police station and you can tell me exactly what happened. Should be fascinating.’

  He turned away to check on the situation with Matthew and Will. Deb was texting on her phone, no doubt to her husband. I reached out a hand and Petra grabbed it, helping me to my feet. I wobbled a little until my equilibrium returned, just enough to make me stable. Then I wrenched my collar around until the dip was under my chin instead of my ear, adjusted my hat and limped with as much dignity as I could muster towards the stairs.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hello, my name is Olga and I want companion. You have lovely smile. I am warm and well-developed and just want to be loved.

  It was almost nine o’clock before we were able to leave the police station. The clear night had given way to a cloudy morning, with the pale winter sun hanging low above the mountain range across the east. A spidery-fine drizzle shimmied in the breeze and the only relief from the homogeneous grey were the umbrellas that bobbed and weaved along the street.

  A glance in the one-way mirror as we were leaving informed me that my skin was a similar grey, along with bags under my eyes so pronounced that they looked like elderly breasts. Thankfully my hair remained hidden by the hat, which I was growing fonder of by the minute, and I had no plans to remove it until seconds before I crawled into the shower. I was so tired that my bones were yawning.

  Ashley Armistead had departed soon after interviewing each of us, without having regained even a flicker of his usual humour. Another police officer arrived and they transported Will to Bendigo for questioning. A less than enthusiastic Matthew had been left to take our statements, a procedure made even lengthier by his insistence that we do so individually. Deb successfully argued for the right to go first, as she was keen to get back to the community centre before everybody began arriving for the day. Without Will and with the festivities due to commence tomorrow, it was going to be bedlam.

  ‘Home,’ I said with a sigh of relief.

  ‘Coffee,’ replied Petra, staring at the cafe across the road. ‘I can smell it from here.’

  ‘Have you seen what we look like? Let’s get out of here, have coffee at my place.’

  Petra shook her head as she started walking. ‘No-one will even notice. I’m not going anywhere without coffee. The thought of it was all that kept me going in that hellhole.’

  ‘We were there for three hours. And they had armchairs.’

  Rather than answer, she began humming the theme song from The Great Escape. I sighed and then followed her, mainly because I had no car and hadn’t caught public transport since 1986. Petra pushed open the cafe door and spoke to me over her shoulder. ‘Grab a table out here and I’ll get them.’

  There were several people eating breakfast inside so I assumed she was opting for privacy. Personally, I would have preferred warmth. However there was a chrome outdoor heater in the corner so I chose the nearest table, tugged it even closer, and then sat facing the street, leaning back with my arms folded and hat tilted forward. I fancied I looked a little like a 1930s detectiv
e. All I needed was a cigarette and a blonde. In other news: Dick Tracy spotted at cafe in main street. Nobody cares.

  A bus heaved into a parking bay on the opposite side of the road, disgorging workers who then hurried in different directions, handbags and newspapers held over heads. An orange umbrella with purple tassels bobbed past and was lowered to reveal Sharon, my mother’s offsider. She stared at me. ‘Nell? Are you in disguise?’

  I sat up a little straighter. ‘No. Just tired.’

  ‘Have you heard the news? Will Akermann was arrested!’

  ‘Good god. How on earth do you know that already?’

  ‘Kat Caldwell told me up at the community centre. Apparently they arrested him before dawn, at the centre. They think he murdered Sam Emerson! And Ned!’

  ‘That’s shocking.’ I swallowed a bemused smile. News travelled fast in this town.

  ‘I know. I can’t believe it. Little Willy Akermann! Just goes to show, doesn’t it?’ Sharon shook her head. ‘I saw him and Leisl only a few days ago. Even shared some gum. Not the actual gum, of course. A stick each. Mint.’ She glanced down the street towards Renaissance. A figure very much like Yen’s was positioning a book display under the awning. Sharon started. ‘Best get to work. Otherwise your mum’ll have my guts for garters.’

  The orange umbrella rose once more, tassels bobbing, and Sharon continued down the street. A car pulled up outside the art gallery and an elderly couple emerged, walking over to the window to examine the display. No doubt today was going to be a big day for business in Majic, and the next three days even bigger. I wondered how Will’s arrest would affect the planning, and I wondered if the mayor had heard yet. How was he going to react to the Discovery? And now ladies and gentlemen, I shall take this opportunity to inform you that my entire family is founded on fraud. So that this statue I am about to unveil is the ultimate in hypocrisy. Rather than celebrated, the name of Sheridan should be synonymous with theft. Theft of life, theft of money, theft of spouses.

  A wave of water rushed towards the gutter as a sedan parked nearby. The occupants had a brief discussion and then all four doors opened simultaneously. I watched with interest, particularly given I had just been thinking about the family, as Edward Sheridan exited from the driver side. He strongly resembled his older brother but where James was intrinsically embedded within the fabric of the town, Edward seldom left his farming property over towards Castlemaine. I wondered what had brought him here this morning, but barely had the thought formed than my eyes widened. He was also Deb Taylor’s father, and therefore Tessa’s. Who was arriving back from Queensland today, with my husband.