by Maggie Groff
To keep occupied, I wrote a handwritten thankyou note to Captain Alistair Diamond, advising him of my flights and thanking him for his generosity. I addressed the envelope care of the airline. Then I paid some bills online, put my phone on charge and tidied my desk.
Oh, gawd. Why hadn’t Harper called?
I’d give it another hour, then I’d call her on some pretext or other, just to make sure she was okay.
There are none so blind as those who cannot see. This truism was about to prove itself to me by parading the evidence in front of my face.
I left an exhausted Chairman Meow asleep on his Windsor chair and nipped down to the beach for a head-clearing walk. It was warm and sunny with a few white puffy clouds cruising west.
Walking briskly, I headed south along the beach, and then cut through to the road by the café and came back along the path. Near the surf club I spotted Sarah, in police uniform, talking with a fit-looking young man wearing board shorts and holding a surfboard. When they’d finished their discussion, I wandered over.
‘It’s a dull beat, but someone has to do it,’ Sarah said, and I laughed. Then I told her how I would be using the free flights, and that I’d seen Rafe in Sydney and he was looking forward to coming home.
Sarah’s face suddenly fell. ‘Don’t turn around!’ she exclaimed.
Naturally, I turned around. Who obeys the law?
Walking across the street, hand in hand, were Toby and Sonya. When they reached the footpath, they kissed.
‘It’s okay, we’ve finished, I don’t mind,’ I told Sarah, but somehow I didn’t feel okay and I did mind. Pride, anger, jealousy; I had a little of all of them.
Sarah linked her arm through mine and steered me away. ‘You still don’t need to see it,’ she said.
We walked across the park towards the ocean and stopped in the shade of a Norfolk Island pine tree.
‘I, too, am a little annoyed,’ Sarah said. ‘I only play tennis with you so I can have your hand-me-downs, and I now see that I have missed out on Toby.’
I acknowledged her effort to cheer me up with a brief smile and said, ‘I’m more surprised than upset. I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming. All the red flags were there.’
‘You took your eye off the ball, kid,’ Sarah said. ‘I’m always having to tell you that.’
‘I did this time,’ I said dolefully.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ she asked, rubbing my back. ‘I have to go over to the pool.’
Nodding, I thanked her and she went off to the pool and I sat at one of the picnic tables and stared at the sea. I felt like I’d been hit in the face with a frying pan, but what had I expected? Toby to be celibate? No, that was ridiculous, but it was still a shock. And he hadn’t wasted any time.
My attention was drawn to a modest reality drama in the park. Kids were playing with the water bubbler and screeching with delight as they splashed each other. Their gaiety was a joy to behold, but it wasn’t to last. Enter wowser greenie from stage left. She was fortyish, whip-thin and wearing a faded floral dress, Jesus sandals and an angry face.
‘How dare you waste water,’ she reprimanded the children, and stood guard next to the bubbler. ‘Where are your parents?’
The children fell silent and stood looking awkward, eyes to the ground. In an instant, gleeful happy children had been transformed into frightened sad sacks. One of the boys cranked up the bellows and ran for safety.
My anguish over Toby and Sonya was building in parallel with my anxiety over Harper. Somebody had to get it. And I’d found just the somebody.
I stood up and strode over to the woman.
‘Happy now?’ I said, glowering at her. Then I turned on the bubbler and put my finger on the spout and squirted her in the face.
‘Whoops,’ I said. ‘Dodgy, these bubblers.’
The children shrieked with laughter and ran off to tell the one that got away. Smiling, I walked off without looking back.
It was a sweet revenge against a cruel world.
It felt good, too.
Another surprise awaited me at home.
Harper had let herself into my apartment, kicked off her shoes and was sitting on the sofa in my living room drinking tea and reading yesterday’s paper. Her feet were on the steamer trunk and Chairman Meow was curled up on her lap.
She was smartly dressed in a tailored burgundy skirt suit. The cropped jacket was undone, revealing an ivory shell with burgundy dots. On her face was a ten-megawatt smile.
Thank God!
‘I’ve been waiting for you for hours,’ she teased. ‘I gave myself an early mark from school and drove straight down.’
Knowing I was on safe ground with her upbeat emotions, and that I had only been gone an hour, I went over and kissed her and remarked, ‘Actually, I’ve only been gone twenty minutes.’
‘Yeah, right. Sit down, I’ve something amazing to tell you.’
Feigning excited expectation, I sat down in the chair opposite her, glad she had wanted to tell me face to face.
‘What is it? Is it about the baby? Are you having twins?’
Note to Scout: Don’t overdo it.
Harper shook her head and carefully folded the newspaper, extracting every last ounce of relish from my anticipation. I mentally played a drum roll.
‘You aren’t going to believe this,’ she said. ‘I can hardly believe it myself.’
‘What?’ I said, moving forward to the edge of my chair.
And then she told me. The whole thing—Saskia’s family background, Saskia’s likeness to Jack and her mother-in-law, Andrew’s concerns that Harper had thought he was having an affair—the lot.
I deserved an Oscar. I feigned shock, excitement, amazement, and when I’d displayed my full range of thespian emotions, I asked, ‘When did you find out?’
‘Last night. Andrew arrived home with flowers, sat me down and told me how much he loved me. At first I thought he was going to announce that he was leaving me, but then he told me about Saskia. Honestly, Scout, I can’t imagine why I thought he was being unfaithful.’
‘Unbelievable, isn’t it?’ I endeavoured to look suitably flummoxed. ‘Do the boys know?’
She nodded. ‘They’re nervous about meeting Saskia. As am I.’
‘When will that be?’
‘Tonight. She’s coming to dinner. So are Andrew’s parents, Saskia’s grandparents. You should come too. Andrew’s picking up seafood and I’ll make a vegetarian platter and salads. And I popped downstairs and bought one of Miles’s New York cheesecakes. It’s in your fridge. Don’t let me go home without it.’
Much as I appreciated her offer, I thought so many new faces might overwhelm Saskia. Besides, I had too much to do.
‘I’d love to, but can’t,’ I said, and explained that I was heading off early Sunday to the Great Barrier Reef. ‘It’s work and I’ve a lot to prepare.’
As Harper wanted to spend time with Andrew and Saskia, we agreed to postpone our op-shopping expedition for another week.
‘What about Max?’ I asked. ‘When will he meet Saskia?’
‘Ha! He phoned as I was driving into Byron. He was at Sydney airport booking the next flight to the Gold Coast. I’ll pick him up on the way home.’
‘Have you told Andrew about the baby?’
She nodded and smiled at the same time.
‘And?’ I asked eagerly.
‘And he’s thrilled. We’ve decided not to tell anyone else, even the boys, until I’ve had the tests.’
‘Hang on,’ I said, standing up. ‘I’ve got something for you.’ I went to the bedroom and returned with the bag containing the maternity swimsuit and the Skipper cap. I handed it to her.
‘The cap’s for Fergus,’ I said.
She examined the cap, smiled and put it on Chairman Meow’s head. Then she held up the swimsuit.
‘I love it,’ she said. ‘It’s exactly what I need. Thank you. And I appreciate the sentiment behind it.’
I grinned h
appily at her. Chairman Meow hadn’t stirred under the cap. High jinks with Peppy had knocked him for six. Maybe even seven.
Harper put the swimsuit down and looked at me. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t pick up on the likeness to Jack in the photograph of Saskia,’ she said. ‘Your investigative skills must be slipping.’
I didn’t say a word.
I like my ears attached to my head.
Chapter 44
Harper and her cheesecake had left to pick up Max, and I was relaxing on the sofa watching The Lemon Tree. Chairman Meow had wolfed down his dinner and was snoozing in the study. He doesn’t like foreign films.
The movie had just got to a good bit when Dandy McCormack called and blew my watch, see and decide protocol out of the water.
He came right to the point. ‘Listen, mate, we need to talk.’
I paused the DVD. ‘How did you get my number?’
‘You called me on your mobile!’ he said, guffawing impolitely.
Cripes! I’d forgotten that.
Embarrassed, I demanded, ‘Why were you following me at Brunswick Heads?’ I prefer to be on the attack rather than the defence when caught napping. Quickly I unscrambled my thoughts from the injustices being played out in a Palestinian lemon orchard to the realities of cutthroat journalism.
‘I wanted to see if we were patting the same dog,’ he said.
‘And do you think we are?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Did you follow me from Byron Bay?’ I asked.
‘Yep.’
‘How did you know I lived in Byron?’
‘I found your name on the tennis club scores on the net.’
I sighed. It was sometimes that easy to track someone down.
‘Were you worried I was muscling in on your case?’ I said.
‘Not really, mate. My olds live in Bangalow. I was due for a trip down,’ he said. I knew he was attempting to make light of any concerns.
Bangalow is a picturesque village near Byron Bay. McCormack must have asked in town about me and discovered that I lived above Fandango’s. He’d probably hung around until I emerged and then followed me to Brunswick Heads.
‘I know why you visited Overton Siliphant,’ I said. I wanted McCormack to know that I had done my homework on him too, and hadn’t bothered pursuing him further. If he was smart he’d figure out that meant I already knew I was working on a different case.
‘And why was that?’ he asked.
I couldn’t resist showing off. ‘To dot the i’s and cross the t’s on the principals of your case. Namely, Leila Leary and the forged reference she used to apply for the bar manager’s position on Silver Gull Island.’
‘Bloody hell, you are good. Brian said you could leap tall buildings.’
I hesitated. ‘As in Brian Dunfey?’
‘Yeah, mate. We’re both on his books.’
Huh! It was probably Brian who had told McCormack where I lived. Jeez. All that guff about tennis scores.
‘I’m guessing,’ he went on, ‘that the reason you didn’t contact me after you’d found out the details of my discussion with Siliphant means we’re on different cases. What are you working on?’
He was smart.
‘You first,’ I said cautiously.
‘Organised crime, as in illegal brothels.’
I gulped. Surely Leila Leary wasn’t a madam.
‘I know,’ I lied, recovering fast. ‘I was checking to see if you would be honest with me.’
‘And you?’ he asked. ‘What’s your story?’
‘It’s an old case,’ I said evasively. ‘Contaminated dive tanks and a suspicious drowning.’ Hey, it was a little bit true.
‘What’s Leila Leary got to do with it?’ he asked.
‘Zilch,’ I admitted. ‘It was someone else in your newspaper photograph that interested me. I picked Leila at random. Pure chance. I knew nothing about her.’ I was confident there were enough other people in the photograph to lay a confusing trail. ‘As a matter of interest,’ I added, ‘why weren’t the names of the people in the photograph listed, or the name of the charter company?’
‘I didn’t want anyone else to recognise her and track her down.’
‘And you thought I had?’
‘Yep. Are you absolutely certain you’ve never seen Leila in the flesh and she’s never seen you?’ he said.
‘Never,’ I assured him. ‘Why?’
‘Because I need someone from out of town that I can trust to help me. I can’t do what I need to do because everyone up here knows me, and knows what I do.’
I knew what he meant. Sometimes it was impossible to work a case on your home turf. I thought for a couple of seconds. If the corduroy man was asking for my help, he might, in turn, be able to help me, though at this point I had no idea how. But he knew the Whitsunday area and he knew the people. There would be something.
‘On a scale of one to ten, what’s the danger level?’ I enquired.
He hesitated. ‘Hard to say.’
‘Tell me,’ I barked.
‘Not over the phone.’
‘Listen, McCormack,’ I said. ‘One of the reasons I can leap tall buildings is that I’m a stickler for checking the building’s dimensions and wind sway before I jump.’
‘Do ASIO know about you?’ he said.
‘I turned them down,’ I told him, and he laughed.
‘I’m on the level,’ he said. ‘And I might be able to assist you with your case.’
He’d made the offer I was waiting for.
‘We could meet and discuss it,’ I said. ‘I’m flying up on Sunday.’
‘Great, mate. Which airport and what time?’
I told him.
‘I’ll meet you in front of the Hamilton Island Yacht Club an hour after you land.’
‘Wear your corduroy jacket,’ I said. ‘So I’ll know it’s you.’
Straightaway I called Hettie Armitage. Hettie had worked at our local post office for years and had recently transferred to Bangalow to be nearer home as her husband has Alzheimer’s. Hettie and I discovered years ago, while chatting in the doctor’s waiting room, that we were both type one diabetics. We hadn’t talked in a while.
‘How’s Ted?’ I asked.
‘We get by,’ she said. ‘It’s a wicked disease. It’s easier now that I’m working around the corner. I can check on him during the day.’
‘Anytime I can help, let me know,’ I told her.
‘I might take you up on it in the future, if that’s okay?’
‘I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it, Hettie,’ I assured her.
‘Thanks. Why did you call?’
‘To pick your brains, if I may? Have you come across the McCormacks in Bangalow?’
‘They’re an old Bangalow family. They have nut plantations. Randy McCormack took over from the old man last year and runs the outfit these days. There’s a sister, Mandy, who has an artist’s studio in town. I think there’s another son somewhere who is a journalist.’
‘It’s the journalist I’m interested in. His name’s Dandy.’
‘Lord save us,’ Hettie said. ‘Randy, Mandy and Dandy.’
We laughed, and as Hettie was unable to throw further light on the McCormacks of Bangalow, we chatted about the state of our respective health, which in both cases was fine, and then I asked her if she knew the Anemone Sisters, or where their lavender farm was. As I had found with other locals, Hettie knew of the sisters, but had no idea where they lived as they used a post-office box in Byron Bay.
After we’d rung off I put my grey matter to work. I mean, how do you hide a lavender farm? It defied belief that no one knew where it was, especially as the sisters’ names had to be on the electoral roll. In a sense it was further evidence that Leila, who would have known the Anemone Sisters’ home address from documentation relating to old Uncle Willard’s will, had to have told Mick the farm’s exact location. If locals didn’t know where it was, there was no way a stranger would
have found it without detailed instructions.
Then I remembered something my nephew Sam had told me. If you type a phone number into Google it will bring up the name of the owner of the landline and the location.
I went to the study and fired up the computer. Chairman Meow, who was curled up on the Windsor chair, raised his head, looked at me with bleary eyes, and promptly went back to sleep.
I typed in Hermione’s phone number and up popped a text box, which informed me that H Longfellow held the phone account and the location was Byron Shire. Nothing I didn’t already know.
On the off-chance, I typed in North Coast Lavender Growers’ Cooperative and a web page opened. The address was a post-office box in Lismore, which is a half-hour drive from Byron Bay, and the phone number was Hermione’s. The rest of the information was about growing lavender and wholesale and retail prices. No farm addresses.
Disappointed, I typed Dandy McCormack’s name into the search engine and started reading articles he’d written in the past. After a while a theme became evident. His stories were centred on organised crime, both here and in New Zealand. He had identified trans-Tasman syndicates involved in the importation and manufacture of illegal drugs, exposed cock-fighting rings, identified links between organised crime and the customs department, and exposed illegal gambling, child prostitution and a host of other nasties.
He played on the bad boys’ field and had sent a lot of criminals to prison. McCormack was no benevolent chappie in an old-fashioned jacket.
He danced on the edge of extreme danger.
And he’d asked me to tango.
Olé!
The day had one more surprise in store for me.
I was too wired to sleep and was lying in bed reading Bleak House aloud to Chairman Meow when there was a loud knock at my front door. I couldn’t imagine who would be turning up this late. It was a man’s knock. You can tell.
‘Stay there,’ I said to the Chairman, though heaven knows why. He didn’t take orders from anyone and would stay if he wished, and come if he wished. He chose to stay. ‘Good boy,’ I said.
I went downstairs and peered through the peephole. Rafe was standing on the footpath, holding flowers. I threw open the door.