“I know about Australians generally, but…”
“Gambling, moneylending, horse theft, rebranding…you name it. They’ve infiltrated the racing world in a major way. I think the groom - the one who left -was placed with me after I refused to cooperate on a scheme…but I didn’t realize that until we found the stick. He seemed like such a likely fellow…”
“What about the police?”
Mr. Milroy sighed. “Not interested. They’re going with what the doctor says, and that’s that. They think I’m trying to save the horse’s reputation. Which is true, of course. Does this change your mind about taking the horse? I’d like to give him a chance somewhere else. His reputation is done for in this district. You heard what Tommy said. No one wants to mate their dam with Dead Shot. Afraid of getting a wild one out of the deal. You’d do well, you know. You could either have him stand at your farm or travel around your district. You’d get a lot of takers either way…”
Frank thought for a minute. The horse was a good one. No doubt about that. Its offspring would be first class. And he hadn’t heard of any Australians in his part of the world, or any kind of gang…although Karira had mentioned that the inspector from Wanganui was looking into gang activity. But with the way money was at the moment, it was worth the risk, on balance.
“I’ll take him,” he said finally. “But I may need to hire another assistant - an ex Maori constable who I’d trust with my life - to keep an eye on the horse. And you’ll have to cover his costs. Fifteen shillings a day. He’s my partner in an investigation agency.”
Mr. Milroy nodded slowly. “Fair enough,” he said. “How about next week? I’ll have the trainer bring him down to you by sea. The Jane Douglas leaves on Friday and should be in Foxton by Sunday or Monday. Could you arrange to pick him up there? I’ll take care of all the shipping costs and send a groom as far as Foxton.”
“You prefer the steamer to the train?” asked Frank.
“Safer,” said Milroy. “Too many bad apples on the trains. And too easy to get a horse off and away before a guard can spot the empty horse box. We’ll send him on the deck in a sling. Best way in my opinion.”
“I’ll send Constable Karira and my new man to Foxton to bring him to my farm,” said Frank. “But I’m surprised to hear there might be problems on the train.” It sounded more like something you’d expect in America, a train robbery. The trains here got blown off the tracks, but no one robbed them. Not that he’d heard off, although rumours ran around the countryside like wildfire.
“Didn’t used to be,” said Milroy. “But with this influx of new blood to the colony…and the Australians…”
“We don’t get many Australians in Palmerston,” said Frank.
“You can’t tell by looking,” said Milroy. “I’m talking about the sons of convicts, like this Ned Kelly bloke who’s been in all the papers. I’ve heard that we have a gang of them established in Taranaki. If they’re not in your district already they soon will be. One man runs the whole operation up here, so they say.”
“I haven’t heard anything,” said Frank. “But I’ll keep an ear out for anyone with the accent.”
“If you see my groom, bring him back to me,” said Milroy. “He isn’t Australian…he’s Irish. But he came here by way of Melbourne. I’d like to have his Irish hide…”
“I’ll keep my eye open for him,” said Frank. “What does he look like?”
“Not very tall,” said Milroy. “Thickset, dark hair, curly…a scar on his…” He gestured towards his forehead.
Frank felt the blood in his veins turn to ice. “Boyle?” he asked.
“That’s the fellow,” said Milroy. “Paddy Boyle. Know him?”
After quickly agreeing to have someone meet the steamship in Foxton, Frank took less than five minutes to get to the hack stables behind the Albion. He was out of breath with a stitch in his right side. “I need a horse,” he said urgently. “I have to get to Wanganui tonight…”
The groom at the stables moved like a man walking through a peat bog as he led Frank to the stalls. “We have Merry Weather…she’ll get you to Wanganui…just to Wanganui, you said?”
“Feilding,” said Frank. “But I can pick up another horse in Wanganui…”
The groom ruminated for a minute. “Merry Weather can’t go much further than Wanganui…fifty miles…that’s about her distance…” he said. Frank stopped himself from shouting at the groom, that yes, he understood. Hadn’t the fool heard him say he’d change horses at Wanganui?
“Take her to the Rutland on Victoria Avenue,” said the groom. “In Wanganui, I mean. That’s the best place to get a fresh horse…”
Frank pulled out his money clip. “How much?”
“Three pounds,” said the groom. Then gauging Frank’s desperation. “And another two pounds to have her returned. I don’t send many…”
Frank threw five pounds at the groom and took the horse from her stall. Money he could scarcely afford. “Tell them at the Albion to put my bag in storage. I’ll send for it.”
He stopped briefly at the post office next to the Albion and sent a telegraph to Karira warning him that Paddy Boyle was trouble, and asking him to make sure Mette was safe; then he was off down the hill towards the Patea River, and south to Wanganui, riding as fast as he could on Merry Weather. His mind kept returning to Mette, alone on the farm with a man - the member of a gang - who thought there was nothing wrong with killing a horse with his shillelagh to make a point. A man he himself had brought into her life, even though she had told him she didn’t like the look of him.
He arrived in Wanganui in a muck sweat. It had been a while since he’d ridden that hard, and he was annoyed with himself that he couldn’t get more speed out of Merry Weather. He took the horse round to the back entrance of the Rutland on Victoria Avenue and woke a sleepy groom, who took charge of Merry Weather and gave Frank a fresh horse named The Dane, which he took as a good omen. He crossed the Wanganui River on the new bridge at the end of Victoria Street, and headed south. A half hour later he was at the Wangaehu River, watching the ferry punt sit idle on the far side.
“Hello! Anyone there?”
The ferry punt rose and fell in the swell of the tide, but no one came to operate it.
After twenty minutes of frantic pacing, he decided he could wait no longer, and forced The Dane into the shallowest part of the river. He reached the other side soaked to the waist and continued on. The track south was dark, but fortunately the moon was almost full and he could see where he was going. The horse was sure footed as well, and faster than the sluggish Merry Weather. He began to hope he could make it to Palmerston before the town awoke.
He had just started to dry out when he reached the outskirts of Palmerston. The sun was up and the town was beginning to come to life. He would find Karira and together they would go out to the farm and take care of Boyle. It had been a long time since he had prayed, but he did now. Please God - don’t let anything happen to Mette.
6
Boyle is Sent Away
Mr. Boyle was in the small paddock exercising the horses. Mette could see him holding their one-year-old filly Meteor on a long leash, as she trotted around the perimeter. He seemed quite capable, but she felt uncomfortable about him being there. When she ran into him on the property somewhere, he said “Hello Mrs. Hardy” in a perfectly friendly manner, but there was a look in his eyes that unnerved her. He seemed to be sizing her up in some way. How could Frank not have seen the type of man he had hired?
Hemi was in the large paddock mending a gap in the fence, and she went over to talk to him. He also said “Hello Mrs. Hardy,” whenever he saw her, but his face crinkled up in a lovely smile and she couldn’t help liking him. He was a serious boy who wanted to make something of his life. When she’d first met him at the pa, the Maori village that the chief had sold to the government without the agreement of the iwi, he’d been a shy young boy who avoided looking at her. But she’d taught him to read, and now they were almost friends - as mu
ch friends as a fourteen-year-old boy and a twenty-four-year-old woman could be.
“Hemi,” she said. “How are you managing in the soddy with Mr. Boyle?”
She saw his expression change slightly. “Very well thank-you Mrs. Hardy.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded without looking at her. He was chewing on the nail of his little finger.
“I’m not so sure about him,” she said.
Hemi sat back and took his finger from his mouth. “Me neither.”
“You said you’d teach me how to shoot the rabbit gun,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t see the connection. “Could we do that later today? After tea?”
“Yes, Mrs. Hardy,” he said. “Up in the high paddock, I’ll show you up there.”
The farm sloped up from the house, and the high paddock was the furthest away from it. It wasn’t a full paddock, just a dip in the land before it fell again to the river. When they were building the farm, Frank had cut a seat up there, a notch in the hill where they could sit and watch the sun set or look back towards the house, to make sure everything was safe and secure. He called it the blind, because if you were sitting there you couldn’t be seen from the house. “I’ll meet you at the blind,” she said.
Hemi nodded. “He won’t see us if we’re up in the high paddock…”
The sun was almost down, and they were out in the open grassy area of the high paddock, Hemi showing her how to smash a pumpkin from fifty yards away, when Karira crested the hill on horseback. He dismounted, looking worried.
“Mette,” he said. “Have you had a problem with Mr. Boyle?”
“Not yet,” she said. “But I was…why are you asking me about him?”
“I got a telegram from the post office in Patea,” he said.
Mette dropped the rabbit gun. “Frank’s in trouble?”
“He’s on his way home,” said Karira. “He’ll be here in the morning. He heard something bad about Boyle…”
“I knew there was something wrong with that man,” said Mette. “What are you going to do? Send him away?”
“Best not make him suspicious,” said Karira. “Where is he?”
“In the stable I think,” said Mette. “He keeps his horse there, and spends a lot of time with it. It’s the only good thing about him…”
“I’ll tell him he’s to go into town to meet Frank on the early train in the morning,” said Karira. “I can keep an eye on him there. Once Frank is back the two of us can do something about him.”
She followed Karira to the stables where Boyle was spreading fresh straw in the stalls. He dropped his rake and gave Karira a mocking salute. “Top of the mornin’ to you, Constable Karira.”
“Frank sent a telegram,” said Karira. “He wants you to meet the early train to give him a hand with something.”
“Did he say what it was then?” asked Boyle. “What he wanted help with? Where is he? He didn’t tell me where he was going.”
“He’s up in Patea,” said Mette. “He’s looking at a stud horse up there…” She saw a look flicker across Boyle’s face and knew she’d said the wrong thing.
“And he’ll be back on the early train tomorrow, you say?”
Karira nodded. “The freight train I think. He knows the engineer and he’ll hop a ride on the engine. It comes in at five, so you’d better go into town tonight.”
“Hop Li will find a bed for you at the Royal,” said Mette. Best they knew where he was.
“I’ll get my kit and be off then,” said Boyle. “The Royal tonight, and then first thing in the morning at the station…”
Mette nodded. She knew neither of them believed what they were saying, but at least he was leaving.
Boyle left, followed soon after by Karira, who promised to keep a close watch on Boyle. She took the rabbit gun from Hemi and put it beside her bed. If Boyle came back, she would shoot him if he took a single step into her home. She wondered what it was he’d done.
* * *
She was awoken in the night by a thud. The farm was the quietest place she’d ever been, even quieter than the clearing in the bush where she once made her home with Maren and Pieter. She slid out of bed, assuming it must be Frank arriving earlier than expected, and fetched her shawl. Her boots were sitting near the front door, which faced in the direction of the stables and the soddy. As she opened the door she saw a shadow move out from behind the stables and disappear into darkness. It happened so quickly she was not sure she’d actually seen anything.
She watched for a few more minutes, but nothing happened. Worried about Hemi, she ran back to her room and got the rabbit gun. It was loaded, but with a single shot, and she hadn’t thought to ask Hemi for more ammunition. She’d have to depend on the threat. But she couldn’t leave Hemi alone with whoever was out there.
Boots on now, she crept across the muddy yard to the stables and went inside. Dolores and her yearling were in their stalls. Copenhagen was snorting softly in the stall at the end of stable. The yearling snickered quietly, awake it seemed. She rubbed its muzzle to calm it, then left the barn and stepped quietly towards the soddy, the rabbit gun propped across her arm. Her arm was shaking uncontrollably. Who could it be, visiting at this time of night?
Candlelight suddenly flared inside the soddy. Surely that meant that Hemi was safe, that no one was there attacking him…Boyle, or anyone. She put her ear against the door and listened. She could hear the heavy breathing of the cow, and the soft murmuring of voices. Someone was definitely in there with Hemi. She raised the gun so it was pointed at the door, braced it against her shoulder and kicked the door open with her boot, feeling foolish as she did it.
Two faces lit by candlelight stared at her through the gloom. Two figures were huddled on a mat in the centre of the main room. Hemi and a young man in a floppy hat pulled low on his head.
She aimed the gun at the man with the hat and said, her voice quavering, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
The young man stood up and raised his hands towards his head.
“No,” she said. “Don’t move. Keep your hands up and walk towards the door…”
“I can’t walk towards the door without moving,” said the young man. He took off his hat and smiled at her.
She let the gun fall to her side. “You…I thought…Wiki? Your hair…”
Hemi’s sister Wiki came forward and hugged her. “I’m sorry if I gave you a fright. I was just going to stay the night with Hemi and be on my way.”
“But why? What’s going on?”
They squatted on the floor together, Mette holding Wiki’s hand in both of hers.
“I was up in Parihaka,” said Wiki. “On a fencing party. They wouldn’t let women build fences. All I was doing was cooking, and I hate that. That’s why I cut off my hair. So I could go with the boys to build the fences. Te Whiti sends boys in first because the soldiers don’t worry about them - us - as much…”
“You’re a warrior,” said Mette. She squeezed Wiki’s hand. “You always wanted to be a warrior…but weren’t you afraid?”
“Tuh,” said Wiki. “We aren’t fighting. Te Whiti won’t let us fight. We build fences and if the soldiers come we sit and stare at them. Or give them food. They think we’re weak. I wish he would let us fight…”
“I’m glad you left,” said Mette. “Did you get scared?”
Wiki stared at their entwined hands and didn’t answer.
“She got arrested,” said Hemi.
“Ah min gud,” said Mette. “Arrested? But you’re here…”
“They were taking some of us by train to Wellington,” said Wiki. “And I jumped off when the train slowed down.” She showed Mette her arms, which were scraped raw below the elbows. “See? I landed hard, but I got away.”
Mette put her hand over her mouth. “Ah, min…where will you go? Won’t the soldiers be looking for you? You’ll have to hide somewhere. You can stay here for a while…”
Wiki shook her head violently. “No I can�
�t. I don’t want to get you into trouble. Just one night - and you can’t tell Sergeant Frank I was here.”
“Why not? He’ll understand.”
“No he won’t. He’s a soldier…”
“He’s just training…”
“No,” said Wiki. “He might be training volunteers now, but there’s going to be a war and he’ll have to go. He’s honour bound to tell the constables where I am. I’m the enemy.”
“He’ll be back in the morning,” said Mette, shaken by the idea that Wiki and Frank would be on opposing sides in a war. “You should leave before he gets back. I promise I won’t tell him that you were here. But where will you go? And how will you get there?”
“To the Marae at Motuiti. Some of the boys from the pa went there after the pa was destroyed. They’ll take me in. But it’s a long way. You wouldn’t lend me a horse, would you?”
“I could go with her, and come back,” said Hemi. “We could take Copenhagen…”
“Frank would never speak to any of us again if he found out I let you take Copenhagen…” said Mette. “A better idea is for me to take you there in the pony trap…”
“You’d have to come back by yourself though,” said Wiki. “I don’t want to put you in danger. You aren’t a warrior like me.”
Mette bit her lip, thinking. “There’s a special coach leaving Feilding this morning for the races in Foxton. I could take you to the coach and you could walk the last bit to Motuiti. It isn’t far. We could dress you up as a girl again - I have an old dress you can have. And I can pay for the coach…I’ll go in to Palmerston after you’re on the coach and wait there for Frank. I’ll tell him I needed to do some shopping. He knows I just got some money for my books…he won’t mind.”
She fetched her old brown dress and a bonnet and Wiki changed into them. She almost looked like a girl again once she had the bonnet on. No one would suspect her of trying to evade the constables. Hemi dragged the trap from behind the stable where Miss Lucy was napping, and between them they managed to hitch the trap to the pony. Mette climbed in to the seat with Wiki beside her. “This will be fun,” she said. “I’ve been dying to drive the trap by myself. Frank doesn’t want me to, but if I meet him in town I’ll show him how well I can drive.”
Dead Shot Page 4