Laughs, Corpses... and a Little Romance

by Michael White

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  My job at the old boatyard was over, Four days work and I hadn’t been paid a single cent, and now I was back working on Annabelle again. What was worse, after working at the boatyard and helping the police I just couldn’t settle down. We did our usual runs, out to the island, and up and down the river once a day, but instead of enjoying every minute like I used to, I felt a bit bored. Every time we passed Bob’s Point I looked across at the silent boatyard with its slipway and jetty and workshop and its little cottage, and I felt a funny kind of yearning.

  Occasionally we divert from our usual mail route to make a special delivery up a side arm of the river, and a few days later in fact we went up Burton Waters, to where there’s another boat yard and a small marina. The riverbanks up there are much closer together and there are all sorts of pretty little coves along the way. Lots of boat owners keep their boats moored at the marina, tied up to mooring buoys, all jostling together, masts swaying and dancing together in the breeze. We don’t go up Burton Waters very often, and I was leaning on the rail looking at the scenery gliding past and listening to the sizzle of the water running along the sides of Annabelle. I was pondering how wealthy people pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for a beautiful boat, then keep it moored and corroding away most of the time, going nowhere and doing nothing. There, hidden in among all the other yachts, was the last yacht I’d painted. “Dad,” I said, “look, over there, that’s the yacht Eric and Maria ran off in. Better not let ‘em know we’ve seen ‘em.” “We’ll call in and let the cops take care of it.” Dad said. We continued on our normal course, and dad turned on the CB radio. “Hi Nicky, can you find that business card Sergeant McFarlane gave me?” After a pause Nicky came back on. “Yes Ted, found it.” “Phone him up and tell him Tim’s seen the missing yacht he’s looking for.” “Ok.”

  When we got back to the wharf Nicky said the water police were coming and they wanted me to meet them at their boatshed. “I don’t like this at all Tim” dad said. “If you go with ‘em and they arrest this Eric and Maria, they’re going to recognize you for sure, and there could be a nasty payback later on.” “Well” said Jack, “in that case what Tim should do is to get the cops to tow Lizzie up there, and after he’s pointed out the stolen yacht he can take off in Lizzie, and the cops can do the rest.” “Yeh, I suppose so” said dad, a bit reluctantly. I took Lizzie over to the police boatshed and waited for the cops to arrive. It was Angus McFarlane again, with three constables. We took off up the river with Lizzie bouncing along behind us on the end of a long towrope. We turned east into Burton Waters, and very soon came up to the marina. “Stop by that big schooner a minute” I said. As we stopped I pointed “Look, that’s the one, the one with the midwatch blue hull and the white decks over there.”

  I climbed into Lizzie and ducked behind the schooner, out of sight but able to see what happened. The cops cruised over to the yacht I’d pointed out. They used a loudhailer to tell Eric and Maria they were coming aboard. There was silence from the yacht. The three constables jumped over the rail into the cockpit and banged on the cabin door. Still no answer. One of the policemen drew his pistol, kicked in the cabin door and stuck his gun inside. I saw them all go into the cabin, then after a few minutes they came out again, holstering their pistols. I started up Lizzie and went over there. “What happened?” I asked Angus. “Nobody there, they’re long gone.” “So what happens to the yacht now?” “We’ll leave it here for the time being” said Angus, “D’you want us to tow your tinny back to the harbour?” “No thanks, I’ll come back on my own later.” They took off in their launch.

  I cruised in Lizzie over to the marina and called in at the owner’s office. He’s a tough guy called Bill James, but I’ve always got on well with him. “G’day Bill.” “Oh hullo Tim, what the hell was going on out there? I saw the water police turn up and lots of action.” I explained to him about the stolen yacht racket, and how he had a stolen yacht moored in his marina. “So what happens to it now?” “Dunno, you’ll have to ask the cops about that. Where did the couple go that brought it in? He’s a tough Irish bloke about my height, and she’s a Spanish looking girl, slim build, a bit taller than me, long black hair.” “Yeh, I remember them. They came in and booked a mooring for a week, then they took off in a taxi.” “You’d better tell the cops that. If they can trace the taxi they can find out where they went next." "Do I have to get mixed up in this?” “‘Fraid so, they’re wanted on a murder charge.” I told him about Johno’s body being dumped in the river. “Well that’s different, I’ll give ‘em a call.”

  We talked about what I’d been doing over at the old boatyard. “So what are you going to do now Tim, go back working for your dad?” “Yeh, I guess so." "The reason I asked is I’m a bloke short in the boatyard, and I’m having trouble finding an experienced man. Want a job?” “What working up here for you?" "That’s the general idea.” ”I couldn’t do that Bill, I wouldn’t want to travel all the way up here each day.” “You wouldn’t have to. I’ve got a spare room over the boatshed. You could sleep up there and pay me a bit of rent. You could still go home each weekend to see your mum and dad. Come on, I’ll show you the room.” We went up some rickety stairs at the back of the workshop. There was a nice room at the front with a view that holiday makers would love, looking out across the marina and the river, but Bill took me to a small room at the back with a small bed and not much else, looking out over an assortment of rusty tanks and old junk to the cliff at the rear, and the smell of fried chips and stale cooking oil coming up from downstairs. “There you are Tim, you can have it for thirty bucks a week plus board. What d’you say?” “It would be a big jump for me, I’ve always lived at home ‘till now.” “Well, perhaps it’s about time you got out on your own: saw a bit more of the world. You’re a big lad now. I’ll tell you what; you can have the room for free. I can’t do better then that now can I?" "I’ll have to think it over. Thanks for the offer Bill; I’ll get back to you.”

  I walked back to Lizzie and headed for home. My brain was full of new thoughts, and I couldn’t even muster up any interest in fishing. When I saw Jack again he said, “So what was the big fight about between Eric and Johno?” “Dunno. I never found out.”