by Peter Watt
The Duffys were not the only people with contacts in the ranks of Sydney’s police force. Money and social position just happened to ensure even higher contacts than could be acquired by working-class Irishmen. ‘Mister Horton will give you assistance when the time comes I believe,’ Granville said as he prepared to depart from the barque. ‘He also has the right domain of skills,’ he added as his own private joke
Mort stared at his foppish-looking employer as he walked away and he suddenly had a greater respect for his employer whom, until now, he had considered rather ineffectual. What the man proposed displayed absolute ruthlessness.
The observer glanced idly up at the well-dressed man who passed him by on his way to a carriage drawn by a fine set of matched greys. There was nothing of interest happening around the Osprey worth reporting.
Two days after Mort and White met on the deck of the Osprey, Daniel sat stunned in Gerald Sullivan’s office as he listened to the Irish lawyer tell him the bad news. Gerald Sullivan placed an expensive bottle of imported Irish whiskey on his desk and he invited the young solicitor to pour himself a stiff drink.
Gerald had just been informed from his network of spies on the Sydney waterfront that the Osprey had sailed for the islands and its murderous captain had slipped their grasp. The devil protected his own, he thought.
‘How?’ Daniel asked in stunned disbelief, as all their intelligence corroborated the sailing date of the blackbirder to be at the end of January. Not early January! The shipping clerks had confirmed the intelligence.
‘It seems the Osprey sailed last night under another name,’ Gerald answered as he put away a generous shot of whiskey. ‘All the papers for her departure had been prepared in advance. We seem to have underestimated the cunning of Mister Granville White. From what I have been told by Constable Farrell, Sir Donald’s son-in-law was instrumental in arranging the deceit.’
‘There must be something we can do to execute the warrant,’ Daniel pleaded. ‘Something within the law to aid us.’
The older lawyer shook his head. ‘There is nothing we can do about it,’ he replied glumly. ‘We could insist on the police investigating the inadequacies of the port authorities but that would achieve very little other than possibly a prosecution against some corrupt government clerk. Little else, I’m afraid. We may have failed in this attempt but there will be others. And I propose a toast to the next time. That means you have to respond, Mister Duffy,’ he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. ‘I might even keep proposing toasts until we get falling-down drunk and Isaac orders us out of the office. We could go down to your father’s salubrious establishment for the day.’
Daniel poured himself a stiff drink and joined Gerald Sullivan in morosely toasting future opportunities to bring down Mort and the Macintosh family. But the whiskey tasted sour in his stomach.
THIRTY-EIGHT
The boat trip to Curtis Island brought back bittersweet memories for Kate as she gazed across at the lagoons of the river. She remembered years earlier on the same water when Luke Tracy had first spoken to her with his soft and melodious American drawl. But that seemed a lifetime ago and she knew his memory should be forever relegated to those other ghosts of her past. Now she stood at the railing of the chartered paddle-steamer with Hugh Darlington beside her.
Kate wore a fashionable light cotton dress as white as the coral sands of the tropics, with a wide-brimmed straw hat. Her chic appearance had brought one or two jealous remarks from the matrons of Rockhampton, whose idle tongues wagged that the barmaid at the Emperor’s Arms was nothing more than a brazen opportunist. Kate knew of the talk but did not care. She was stronger than the gossip and she knew that she had many friends who were quick to support her. They ranged from tough old teamsters to the dashing young Hugh Darlington. But most important were the friendships of the Cohens and the Jameses.
The weather had cleared, although rain clouds still boiled over the range of hills behind Rockhampton. It was muggy on shore, but out in the mouth of the Fitzroy River the sea breezes cooled the passengers who stood on the deck of the paddle-steamer with their picnic baskets.
The sea breeze toyed with wisps of Kate’s raven hair that had dislodged from under her hat and Hugh could not help but admire the smooth curve of her slender neck. Her pale skin was like that of an alabaster statue and he had a strong urge to kiss the back of her neck . . . maybe soon, he mused. When Kate turned to speak to Hugh, she was acutely aware that he was standing very close and that his eyes held his deepest and most intimate thoughts. Kate felt a warmth she had not known for a long time.
When the paddle-steamer drew close to the shore of the island, rowing boats were lowered and the passengers were taken ashore in relays. When the boat taking Kate and Hugh beached on the coral sand, he stepped into the warm clear water, soaking his trouser legs to the knees, and grasped Kate by her slim waist. He lifted her easily from the boat and carried her to the beach where he was reluctant to release his grasp. She gently prised his hands away with a knowing smile.
They shared the picnic with Hugh’s friends, who were mostly eligible bachelors escorting young ladies from some of the best of Rockhampton’s families. There was also a smattering of young married couples and Kate noticed that Hugh mixed mostly with the clerks, government employees and their families. Kate found them rather stuffy with their affected formality and she missed the boisterous company of the tough and colourful sun-blackened men of the frontier; the teamsters, stockmen and prospectors who frequented the bar where she had once worked. That was gone now as she had given her notice at the Emperor’s Arms to pursue her newly established business interests.
The publican had expressed his bitter disappointment in losing his most popular barmaid. The tough and weather-beaten teamsters had presented Kate with a beautifully plaited stockwhip, swearing her in as an honorary teamster to their ranks. Her rowdy farewell cost the generous publican four kegs of beer but he felt that she was worth the expense as her presence at the hotel had attracted a lot of patronage over the years.
Hugh had helped set up the office and depot which she’d rented for her transport business and the Cohens regularly met with her at their store to coordinate the purchase and dispatch of goods using Kate’s bullock team for local hauls. The teamster she employed to handle Harry’s team of bullocks proved an excellent choice and the Eureka Company was off to a promising start under her capable management.
When the picnic lunch was over, the men rolled up shirtsleeves and a cricket ball and bat were produced as two teams were organised. The alcohol flowed freely between runs; champagne and gin, English beer in bottles and dark rum. Kate was bored with sitting and cheering the men at their game and she decided to take in the beauty of the island.
She excused herself and walked down to the beach alone. Hugh had been buttonholed by a client who wanted to talk conveyancing. As he was an important client, Hugh was forced to apologise for not being able to join her.
Kate flipped open her parasol and kicked off her shoes as she strolled along the sand bordered by rainforest trees. The sand felt gritty but pleasant underfoot and she had not strolled very far when she noticed a familiar figure at the furthermost end of the pleasant beach.
‘Emma!’ she cried out happily.
‘Kate! Oh, it is good to see you.’ Emma squealed with delight when she saw Kate hurrying towards her. They met and embraced.
‘Are Henry and little Gordon with you?’ Kate asked, disengaging herself from the embrace.
‘Yes. We have just arrived,’ Emma replied. ‘I left Henry and Gordon playing cricket with the others. I didn’t know you were coming over for the picnic and I love your dress.’
Kate beamed with pleasure at her friend’s compliment. ‘You know, it is the first nice dress I have bought since I left Sydney,’ Kate replied modestly and she gave her friend another hug to thank her for noticing.
‘I heard about your good fortune,’ Emma said as the two women walked over to the shade of
the trees. ‘Henry and I want to visit you as soon as he gets a little better.’ An awkward silence fell between them at the mention of Henry’s recovery from the snakebite. The story of the encounter with the infamous bushranger Tom Duffy had been told and retold in the bush shanty grog shops along the bullock tracks. And even as far south as Rockhampton’s hotels.
‘Your brother saved Henry’s life,’ Emma said in a more serious tone, breaking the awkward silence between them. ‘Henry said that if he had not done what he did, then he was surely a dead man. Tom must be a good man and it’s so tragic that Henry had to go after him the way he did. But he has his duty . . .’ Emma’s short and halting statement was as much explanation as it was a plea for understanding. She had avoided Kate and Judith, as she had felt they would not understand what had occurred in Burke’s Land.
‘I should have realised how much you must have worried,’ Kate said gently. ‘How you must have thought that I would hate you for what occurred. I suppose that is why Judith and I have not seen you for a while.’
Emma nodded and there was the hint of a tear at the corner of her eye. ‘I thought you might hate Henry for doing what he did,’ she said, forcing herself not to cry. ‘In arresting Tom.’
Kate took Emma’s hands in her own. ‘Any other policeman would have shot Tom out of hand,’ she said with a gentle smile. ‘But Henry cares. I know that. And he risked his life to make sure Tom would get a chance for a fair trial. I could think of no other man on earth who could have cared as much as your Henry. He is the finest of men, Emma, and a man I consider among my truest friends.’
Kate’s gentle and reassuring words brought tears of gratitude and reconciliation to Emma, who still tried to restrain her feelings.
‘Do you know?’ Emma said, both sobbing and laughing, ‘Henry told me that Tom actually went back and bailed up the publican of some grog shanty and paid him to help get Henry to Burketown. Henry said it was the first time he knew of a bushranger bailing a man up to give him money.’ Both women laughed at Tom’s exploit. ‘Henry says it was not a robbery under arms but a giving under arms,’ Emma added with more merriment. ‘Mister Uhr was very good in sending Henry back to Rockhampton to recover.’
‘You and Henry must visit me as soon as you are able,’ Kate said wistfully. ‘I have a thousand . . . no, a hundred thousand questions to ask Henry about Tom. He is the only brother I have left and I miss him every day of my life. Oh, I know what people say about Tom but I only remember how much like Da he was . . .’
Kate’s sentence trailed away and Emma could see her friend was close to tears. ‘We will,’ she said, and hugged Kate. ‘And Henry will tell you just what a fine man your brother truly is. I know, he has told me.’
Hugh found the two women sitting under the trees engaged in an animated conversation. He thought it was rather ironic that the sister of the bushranger Tom Duffy should be a close friend of the policeman who could claim the dubious honour of being the only man to get close to capturing the legendary criminal. But such ironies were part of the frontier in a colony with so few people to populate it.
‘Missus James, how good to see you,’ Hugh said as he joined the two women. His roving eyes travelled over the slim figure of Emma James and he thought idly that the big policeman had done well for himself. She was pretty, in a wholesome way, although not as beautiful as Kate sitting beside her.
Emma politely returned the greeting even though she was aware of the man’s eyes appraising her and felt annoyed. He had the reputation around town of being somewhat of a ladies’ man, smooth and charming with his fine looks and delicate hands. But Emma was annoyed more for Kate, who might get hurt by the man at some future point. Then she glanced at Kate and smiled. On the other hand, Hugh Darlington might get his comeuppance should he ever cross Kate. She was a rare and special person. Equal to any man – if not better!
‘I ran into the sergeant just a few minutes ago playing cricket,’ Hugh said by way of polite conversation. ‘He tells me that he has no sense of taste and smell as a result of the bite from the snake. Terribly peculiar!’
Emma returned a wry smile. ‘At least Henry cannot tell whether I have made a mess of any meals I cook,’ she said, causing Kate to laugh lightly, as she knew full well that Emma was an excellent cook and that Henry would be cursing the fact that he could not taste her meals.
‘The good sergeant has told me you will be returning to Burketown,’ Hugh said as he sat to one side of the women, ‘when he is deemed fit to resume police duties.’
‘You didn’t mention you were going to Burketown, Emma,’ Kate stated with a questioning glance at her friend.
‘I told Henry,’ Emma replied, ‘that if he didn’t take Gordon and myself back with him I would leave him. He has this silly idea that I should be wrapped in cotton wool and left on the mantelpiece for safekeeping. I had to remind him that it was I who chose to marry him, and not the other way around.’
‘Ah, yes. A man pursues a woman until she catches him,’ Hugh said, meaning to sound witty on the subject. But he received only scornful looks from both women for his ineptness at humour on such a delicate subject as matrimony and he was wise enough to retreat from their company. He was learning something that Solomon Cohen already knew – that he was excluded from the subtle intercourse of the sisterhood.
By late afternoon the picnickers had packed and strolled down to the rowboats that would return them to the chartered steamers at anchor in the bay for the trip back to Rockhampton.
Hugh and Kate were among the last to take the trip out to their steamer. Hugh slipped Kate’s arm through his as they strolled down to the waiting boats and she did not try to stop him from doing so. As they made their way back, they were alone for a moment under the canopy of rainforest trees. It was then that Hugh stole a kiss and was stunned by her reaction to his presumptive move. Kate returned the kiss with a passion that was totally unexpected.
That evening Kate went to Hugh’s bed. And even as she did, she was not sure why she had, except that her body was hungry for the touch of a man. She did not fool herself that it was love as his delicate hands quickly and expertly undressed her. Hugh Darlington was no Luke Tracy, although she quickly dismissed any thoughts of Luke.
She was flattered by Hugh’s audible gasp of admiration as she stood naked before him in his room. The flickering set of candles accentuated the curves and dips of her body as he sat on the bed to take in the beauty of the young woman. So many men would have killed to be in his place at this time. Kate wondered why she felt no shame in giving herself to the handsome and dashing lawyer. Was it that the need to be held and possessed was stronger than any of man’s laws on morality and behaviour, she thought for a fleeting moment, as she went to him and sat on his lap with her arms around his neck.
‘I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams,’ Hugh said in an almost hoarse voice as he held Kate, ‘that this moment might occur so quickly for us.’
Kate placed her fingers on his lips to silence him. ‘Don’t say anything,’ she said. ‘Just love me.’
He drew her down onto the bed and kissed her as his hands slid along her body, searching for her thighs. She gasped and arched her back as the pent-up passion so carefully controlled for so long was unleashed. Hugh quickly shed his clothes, flinging them on the floor as he scrambled to capitalise on her need to be ravished. Neither needed the gentleness of arousal for they both recognised it had been present during the day’s outing to the island and Hugh’s thrusts were quick and hard. Within seconds he had spent himself with a long moaning shudder and he fell back against the pillows to sigh contentedly for the relief. Beside him, Kate lay on her back staring at the ceiling that reflected the flickering shadows of the candles as Hugh rolled over to find one of his cigars and light it. Kate could feel his wetness inside her and she wondered why she felt as if she wanted more. But it was not something a lady admitted to and she was grateful that he had found her so desirable. He was, after all, an extremely attractiv
e and successful man. And she knew there were many other young ladies in Rockhampton who would have clawed her eyes out to be in her place at this moment.
Hugh Darlington could not believe his good fortune as he lay back against the sheets admiring the curves of the woman who lay asleep beside him. It had not taken a fortune to get the beautiful woman to his bed and now all he had to do was keep her there. But that would not be hard, as he knew he had the looks and charm to do so.
THIRTY-NINE
Curious glances were cast in the direction of the tall bearded man who stood self-consciously in the schoolyard as the children poured out of their tiny, one-roomed timber schoolhouse. Screeching like cockatoos they passed Luke who smiled at some of the frank stares directed at him by scab-kneed, snotty-nosed kids who ducked their heads and giggled. Like an army of marauding ants, they headed for a paddock, where they spread out in search of mischief.
A young and pretty woman was the last to leave the schoolhouse. She also cast a curious glance at the tall stranger, who strode towards her with his broad-brimmed and battered hat in his hand. He vaguely reminded her of someone else she had once known. It was in his face, the faraway look of a man who was used to seeing the distant horizons from astride a horse, she thought. And it was his sparse and lean frame ravished by privation and fever, and the gun tucked behind his broad leather belt, which marked him as a man of the frontier. The display of guns was rare in Toowoomba, which enjoyed a conservative reputation for staid respectability.
The tall man fixed her with his striking blue eyes and smiled shyly.
‘Miss Jones?’ he asked when he came to a stop in front of her, and Rose returned the smile.
‘Missus Carr. I am married to Mister Robert Carr,’ she replied diffidently.