‘I’m not a very good rider,’ Claire confessed. ‘I’ve only ridden a few times.’
‘The horses are so well trained, it’s like sitting in an armchair,’ Rosina urged. ‘Come on – it will be fun. The horses love swimming, and we can ride out in the water bareback.’
Claire reluctantly agreed; there was nothing else to do on the lot, except perhaps more jobs. So the girls washed and changed out of their working clothes and into bathing suits, putting fresh jodhpurs and shirts over the top. Rosina put a couple of flour sack towels into a saddlebag and begged some bread and cheese from the cook for a picnic.
Then they caught two of the huge horses – Florian and Pluto, one dazzling white and the other pitch black – and tacked them up.
They rode along slowly, enjoying the sunshine, heading south towards the harbour. Lula rode on the pommel in front of Rosina, chattering in monkey gibberish and pointing out things that interested her.
Rosina led the way on Florian, choosing to ride through parks and quiet backstreets rather than the busier main roads, full of cars and vans. Claire thought it felt quite strange to be riding horses in the middle of the town rather than out in the country. They trotted and cantered on the green lawns of the parkland along the harbour foreshore.
At a small cove, Rosina pulled up the horses.
‘We’ll unsaddle them and go for a swim here,’ Rosina suggested. ‘It’s nice and shallow.’
The girls took the saddles and blankets off, and stripped down to their swimmers.
‘Down, Pluto,’ Rosina ordered. The big horse lay down on the grass so it was easy for Claire to remount him. They rode down into the saltwater. Lula preferred to sit on top of the pile of saddles and watch from dry land.
The horses struck out until the water was lapping up over their backs. Claire clung on tightly. The horses whickered and snorted with pleasure. It was so much fun to swim on horseback.
Afterwards, the horses rolled in the grass to dry off, while the girls sat on their flour sack towels and ate their lunch. Lula nibbled her bread, picking out crumbs with nimble fingers.
‘This is heaven,’ Claire said, staring up at the sky. ‘I could stay here for hours.’
‘It’s lovely, but let’s saddle up again and ride further,’ Rosina suggested. ‘We can go for another swim in another cove.’
Claire lay down on her back and closed her eyes for a moment.
‘I’m going,’ came a teasing voice from Rosina.
Claire sighed and struggled to her feet. ‘Oh, all right then,’ she complained.
They rode further east until they came to Kirribilli, with all its grand waterfront mansions.
‘Oh, look,’ said Rosina. ‘There’s Kit’s house.’
Claire had a sneaking suspicion that it was no accident that they had managed to ride so close to Kit’s house.
‘Do you think we should drop in?’ Claire suggested with a cheeky grin.
Rosina flushed and pretended to be nonchalant. ‘Oh, no – I’m sure he’s probably busy. Besides, his father would have a fit.’
They rode closer. ‘Is that a police car parked outside Kit’s house?’ Claire asked with a frown.
‘And another one parked in the driveway?’ Rosina added. ‘I wonder what’s happening.’
The girls rode their horses closer. Claire felt a niggling, nervous feeling in her stomach at the sight of the two police cars. The car on the street had two police officers sitting in the front, watching Kit’s house closely.
‘Do you think something’s wrong?’ asked Claire. ‘Perhaps something has happened to Kit.’
‘Surely not,’ Rosina said. ‘It must just be a routine check.’
‘With two police cars?’ asked Claire.
‘I think we should keep going,’ Rosina suggested. ‘Mr Hunter made it very clear that we were not welcome.’
Claire stopped Pluto outside Kit’s garden and peered through the wrought-iron fence.
The house looked quiet. Just then the front door opened and two policemen came out, accompanied by the housekeeper, Mrs Bruce. She looked as though she had been crying.
‘Come on, Rosina,’ insisted Claire. ‘Something’s up. We need to make sure Kit’s all right.’
Claire urged Pluto to walk through the gate and onto the gravel driveway. Pluto picked up his feathered hooves delicately. Rosina hung back on Florian.
‘Hello, Mrs Bruce,’ called Claire brightly. ‘I’m Claire Stanton, and this is Rosina Sterling. We’re Kit’s friends. Remember, we were here last night? We just popped by to see him. Is he home?’
The housekeeper looked at Claire and burst into tears. The policemen looked exasperated. Claire felt her stomach knot. She knew something had happened to Kit – something terrible.
‘Is everything all right, Mrs Bruce?’ asked Claire. ‘Can we help you?’
‘He’s gone,’ wailed Mrs Bruce. ‘Someone’s taken him. He’s been kidnapped, just like that poor child of Charles Lindbergh.’
Claire looked at Rosina in horror. Everyone had been talking about the Lindbergh kidnapping in New Jersey. Three weeks previously the famous aviator’s toddler had been snatched from his cot while his parents were in another part of the house. The criminals had demanded a huge ransom, but there was still no sign of the child.
Claire slid off Pluto’s back. Rosina urged Florian closer.
One of the police officers looked around. ‘Mrs Bruce, we don’t know what’s happened yet, but we’ll leave two of our police officers on guard. You call us if anything more turns up. And phone us as soon as Mr Hunter gets home.’
At the mention of her employer’s name, Mrs Bruce sobbed once more. ‘I don’t want to be here on my own, Detective Drummond. They might come back.’
The police officer put his notebook and pen away in his pocket. ‘Now, now, Mrs Bruce, two of my officers will be here, just out the front. You’ll be perfectly safe.’
Claire thrust her reins into Rosina’s hands. ‘Mrs Bruce, can I make you a nice cup of tea?’ asked Claire, smiling sympathetically. ‘Rosina and I can stay with you for a while, at least until Mr Hunter gets back.’
Mrs Bruce nodded and wiped her eyes. ‘Thank you. Thank you very much. I’d appreciate that.’
The police officer looked at Claire gratefully. ‘That would be very helpful. We need to get back to the station.’
Rosina tied the two horses up to graze in the front lawn then followed Claire and Mrs Bruce into the entrance hall of the house. At once they could see that something terrible had happened. Paintings were missing from the walls. Paper and books were strewn over the floor, emptied from various drawers and shelves. There were streaks of what looked suspiciously like blood smeared on the floor.
Claire swallowed when she saw the blood.
Mrs Bruce wrung her handkerchief between her fingers. She led the way to the back of the house to the kitchen, a pale yellow room with blue cupboards, a huge gas range and a black-and-white chequered floor. Claire pulled a chair out at the small kitchen table for Mrs Bruce to sit down. Rosina sat down next to her.
Claire filled the kettle, put it on the hob to boil and found all the makings for tea.
‘Mrs Bruce,’ Claire began, ‘can you please tell us what happened?’
Mrs Bruce seemed to calm down in the comforting environment of her own kitchen.
‘It’s Sunday, so most of the staff have the day off,’ explained Mrs Bruce. ‘Mr Hunter went out early this morning in his car, to do something for that Captain de Groot, who’s being held in custody.’ She glanced at Claire then Rosina, and wiped her eyes. ‘Master Kit had an excursion planned. He also wanted to deliver some of the leftovers from the party to a friend, so he took a few baskets of food in the car. Larry drove him.’
Claire set out some cups from the dresser and poured milk in a small jug.
‘There was no one home,’ continued Mrs Bruce, ‘so I finished tidying up a few things from last night then went to church. I came back at about midday to find the front door wide open, the back door smashed in, the house in chaos, dozens of paintings stolen and blood on the floor.’
She sobbed again and buried her face in the handkerchief.
‘It must have been terrifying,’ said Claire, patting her on the shoulder.
‘But how do you know someone took Kit?’ asked Rosina, looking looked pale and worried.
‘I don’t know,’ said Mrs Bruce. ‘At first I thought it was just a burglary, so I telephoned the police. They came to investigate, and I was just showing them around the house when I found a note on the hall table. It had been typed on the typewriter in Mr Hunter’s office. Detective Drummond took the note with him when he left.’
Claire poured out three cups of milky tea and placed one in front of the housekeeper.
Mrs Bruce stirred sugar into her cup. ‘The spelling on the note was terrible, but it said, “We have taken your son, Christopher. Do not call the police. We will kill him unless you pay a ransom of twenty thousand pounds. We will telephone with instructions to deliver the ransom.”’ Mrs Bruce sobbed. ‘There was a bloodstain on the bottom of the note.’
Claire breathed in deeply and went cold with fear. Her brain started ticking through everything that she’d heard, searching for information – anything that might be useful.
‘Twenty thousand pounds?’ gasped Rosina. ‘That’s a fortune.’
‘I shouldn’t have called the police,’ sobbed Mrs Bruce, ‘but I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t know when Mr Hunter will be back.’
‘How do you know Kit came back from his friend’s house?’ asked Claire.
‘His hat was on the front hall table,’ explained Mrs Bruce. ‘The car was parked in the garage, but Larry must have gone out after dropping Master Kit home. His uniform was in his room, but he’s not here.’
Claire rubbed her forehead, thinking. ‘Who would do this? Who would do such a terrible thing?’
Rosina put her cup down on the table. ‘There are thousands of desperate, poverty-stricken people in Sydney,’ Rosina said. ‘Crime has been rampant since the depression began – robberies, murders, muggings and cutthroat razor gangs. The papers have been full of the Lindbergh kidnapping.’
Rosina gestured around the room. ‘A family like the Hunters must be a tempting target.’
‘We have an armed watchman at night, but he doesn’t work on Sundays either,’ added Mrs Bruce.
‘Did the police find out anything that you know of?’ asked Claire. ‘Were there any clues at all?’
Mrs Bruce nodded. ‘The gardener next door was coming back home and saw a small blue van parked in the driveway. Two men in white overalls were loading something into it. He did think it was odd that they were doing pick-ups on a Sunday, but he didn’t take any further notice until the police approached him asking questions.’ Mrs Bruce shook her head. ‘The gall of them to break into the house in broad daylight on a Sunday morning. I just can’t believe this is really happening.’
The telephone began to ring shrilly in the hall. Mrs Bruce went to answer it. Claire and Rosina exchanged nervous glances.
‘We shouldn’t get involved,’ Rosina whispered, biting her lip. ‘We shouldn’t even be here. Police and circus folk don’t mix well. And Kit’s father hates us.’
Claire shook her head. ‘We have to do something.’
The girls finished their tea. Claire rinsed the teacups and set them on the draining board.
Mrs Bruce returned to the kitchen. She looked somewhat relieved. ‘That was Detective Drummond calling from the police station,’ she explained. ‘They’ve contacted Mr Hunter and he’s on his way home. The detective is meeting him here in a quarter of an hour.’
Claire stood up. ‘Well, in that case, Rosina and I will be on our way, Mrs Bruce. We don’t want to get in the way of the police.’
Mrs Bruce nodded. ‘Thank you, girls, for your company. It helped having someone to talk to.’
‘That’s a pleasure, Mrs Bruce,’ replied Claire. ‘I hope with all my heart that the police find Kit safe and well.’
The girls hurried out of the house, keen to be gone before Mr Hunter returned. The horses were happily cropping the grass on the front lawn. Claire was just preparing to mount when Larry walked through the front gate, wearing ordinary street clothes and a flat woollen cap. He looked completely different not dressed in his uniform. He had his shoulders hunched and was smoking a cigarette.
‘Larry,’ called Claire urgently, ‘when did you last see Kit?’
Larry flicked the cigarette away into the garden bed.
‘What?’ asked Larry, looking startled. ‘I haven’t seen Master Hunter. It’s my day off.’
‘Larry, Kit’s been kidnapped,’ said Rosina. ‘Someone broke into the house and took him.’
‘Oh, oh – th . . . that’s terrible,’ Larry stuttered. He looked pale and dazed. ‘I’ve been out helping a friend move house. I’ve only just come back.’
‘But Mrs Bruce said that you took Kit out this morning.’
Larry rubbed his forehead, collecting himself. ‘I’m sorry, it’s such a shock. I drove Master Hunter down to La Perouse this morning at about nine o’clock. He took several baskets of leftovers and delivered them to a family living in the unemployed camp there.’
Claire glanced at Rosina. ‘Jem’s family. That was thoughtful.’
‘Then I dropped him back here at the house before eleven o’clock,’ said Larry. ‘He said he was going to take a tram to visit Miss Sterling at the circus to ask her about his charity function. He didn’t want me to drive him as it was a Sunday. That was the last time I saw him. I changed and went to help my friend.’
‘What time did you leave the house?’ asked Claire.
Larry shrugged. ‘It was about eleven o’clock.’ He swallowed. ‘Look, I don’t want to be rude, but I think I’d better go.’
‘Of course,’ replied Rosina. ‘You’ve had a terrible shock. And the police are on their way back, so I’m sure they’ll want to talk to you.’
Larry nodded and hurried off to his room over the garage. The girls mounted their horses and rode out the front gate. The two police officers were still sitting in a car on the street.
Claire frowned as she looked over at them. ‘I hope Kit’s all right.’
‘Don’t worry, Claire,’ said Rosina, trying to sound confident. ‘The kidnappers have asked for a ransom. They won’t hurt Kit. As soon as the money’s paid they’ll let him go.’
Claire thought back to the chaotic scene in the entrance and the ransom note. ‘There was blood, Rosina. Kit may already be badly hurt.’
16
Investigation
It was midafternoon when Rosina and Claire returned to the circus lot. They rode past Manfred the Magician, who was strolling back to his caravan. The girls called out a greeting, which Manfred returned.
‘He looks very pleased with himself,’ said Claire.
‘Manfred always looks pleased with himself,’ Rosina replied. ‘He’s probably been charming some pretty shopgirl with disappearing paper flowers.’
The girls unsaddled the horses and put them away in their yard, then they hurried to find Jem.
Jem was talking to Frank and Roy near the lions’ cage. Frank handed Jem something, which he tucked away in his back pocket. It looked like a wad of cash. Jem wandered over to meet the girls, a broad smile on his face. Jaspar bounded over, tail wagging, and he licked both Rosina and Claire on the hand.
‘There is a great mystery to solve,’ Jem claimed.
‘How do you know?’ asked Claire. ‘What have you heard?’
‘Why, only that a swanky young man arrived at my mother’s home this morning bringing baskets of food f
or the family,’ Jem explained. ‘The kids were so excited. I think they ate until they were nearly sick. So who do you think the hero could be?’
‘That’s no mystery, Jem,’ retorted Rosina. ‘It was Kit.’
Jem’s face darkened. ‘I don’t know why he thinks we want his charity,’ he snapped. ‘We can manage just fine without him.’
Rosina swallowed and squared her shoulders. ‘Shortly afterwards Kit was kidnapped . . . and he’s now being held for ransom.’
Jem looked shocked. ‘Kidnapped?’
‘Yes,’ Claire replied. ‘The kidnappers want twenty thousand pounds.’
‘Cripes – that’s ridiculous. No one would pay that much for him. Not even his knuckleheaded New Guard father.’
Claire glared at him.
‘It’s not a joke, Jem,’ Claire reproved him. ‘It’s very serious. Kit’s been hurt.’
‘The police are looking for him,’ Rosina added, her voice cracking.
‘Somehow that doesn’t make me feel very confident,’ Claire replied. Her eyes welled with tears.
Rosina gave her a hug. ‘Why don’t we take the elephants over for a dust bath and we can talk it over?’
Most days the elephants were taken over to the back corner of the lot, near the boarded-up department store, where they could dig in the dirt and throw dust over themselves. Claire, Rosina and Jem walked the elephants over to the dust bowl and sat in the shade of the store, watching the elephants dig and play.
Claire sat, deep in thought, while Jem and Rosina chatted. Elsie used her front foot to stomp on the ground and break up the soil. She then sucked up dirt with her trunk and sprayed it over her back in a fine, brown cloud of dust. Empress rubbed her head against Elsie’s side then blew dust over them both.
‘It must be someone who knows Kit,’ Claire announced after a while.
‘Why do you say that?’ asked Rosina.
‘It’s someone who doesn’t like Kit or his father,’ Claire added.
‘Well, that must narrow it down to a few hundred thousand people,’ Jem scoffed.
The Sequin Star Page 16