Forest Shadows

by David Laing

  Hector couldn’t hang on any longer. His hands lost their grip and he fell to the ground, legs and arms spread-eagled as if he was staked to a cross.

  Shadow leaped onto his chest, teeth inches from his face, his eyes staring into Hector’s. He growled as white foamy spittle dripped from his fangs onto Hector’s stunned face. Don’t dare move. Don’t move an inch.

  Shadow waited for Reg.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  * * *

  Reg, with Shadow doing most of the work, shepherded Hector back to where Jars, Snook and Quenton were waiting. ‘Hey,’ Snook said as soon as he saw who’d arrived with Reg. ‘I know you!’ He jabbed a finger towards Hector. ‘You’re that bird smuggler. I bet Shadow nabbed ya just like he did last year.’

  Hector glared and spat in Snook’s direction. ‘Watch it kid!’ he snarled. ‘Or you and that dog will …’

  Snook raised his eyebrows, ‘Will what? Anyway, where’s the rest of your gang? Didn’t you bring ’em with you?’

  Jars gave Snook a nudge and pointed towards the path leading out of the woods. ‘Look over there; it’s the Grimshaw lady and …’

  ‘Yes, you can say it. It’s my dad.’ Quenton said finishing the sentence for her.

  Feeling slightly embarrassed, Jars didn’t know how to reply, what to say next. ‘They’re getting away,’ she finally managed. ‘Shouldn’t we go after them?’

  Reg shrugged. ‘Why bother? They can only go in one direction – to the harbour, the same as us.’ It was true. The Henty River came to a dead end at its source, and Hell’s Gates was far too rough and treacherous for their little runabout. ‘We’ll catch up with them in Strahan. As soon as we’re on board The Shandora, I’ll get Snook’s dad to radio ahead to let the Coast Guard know what’s happening. They’ll contact the police.’

  ‘What’ll the police do?’ Snook asked.

  ‘Arrest them for a start, I’d say. Hector will probably be charged with firing a rifle in a national reserve. As for the other two, I’d wager that they’ve definitely been up to no good. They sure looked guilty about something.’

  Jars slapped the side of her head. A thought just struck her. ‘We left the shack unlocked. I bet they got in and were trying to steal Mr Wu’s collection!’

  Reg nodded. ‘You could be right. They don’t have it now though. They weren’t carrying anything. If stealing the treasure was on their mind, then something must have stopped them. Let’s go back and find out.’

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  * * *

  Back inside once more, Jars was the first to notice that the hessian bag containing the stones was lying on the floor. ‘It’s been moved!’ she said. ‘They were trying to steal Mr Wu’s collection.’ She bent over to pick it up.

  ‘Hold it by its edges,’ Reg said. ‘There could be fingerprints.’

  She looked inside. ‘I don’t think anything’s missing. The gold and opals are still here and look, the crocoite, too! Mr Wu’s given it back! She reached in and took out one of the other specimens, holding it up for everyone to see. Everything else looks …’

  ‘Don’t touch that!’ Reg yelled, running over and swiping the crystal from her hand.

  ‘Wh-what’s wrong, Reg? What did I do?’ she asked; her mouth dropped open and her eyes studied the floor. She must have done something bad to cause Reg to act like that. It wasn’t like him to act as he had.

  ‘Sorry if I frightened you,’ Reg said, ‘but that crystal you picked up is realgar and it’s dangerous. It’s an arsenic sulphide. You can contract poisoning through the skin because it reacts with water – including sweat. Give me your hand.’

  Still puzzled, Jars did as she was told. Reg lifted her outstretched hand, felt it and then sniffed. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘No perspiration and no smell.’

  ‘What do you mean, no smell?’

  ‘If it had smelled like garlic I would have been worried. You would have been poisoned.’

  Jars gulped. ‘How come? It doesn’t look dangerous.’

  ‘Normally it isn’t, but if it reacts with water and if you touch it, well, it gives off a poison that could enter your system. You were lucky. You had dry hands.’ Using his handkerchief, he bent over and picked up the orange-red crystal. He put it back in the bag, which he placed back on the table. ‘The realgar was dry too. You were lucky again. It might have been wet. After all, you’ve just climbed through a waterfall and crossed a river with it on your back.’

  Snook, who’d been standing open-mouthed during all this, stepped forward. ‘Geez, Jars. You could’ve croaked.’

  Reg gave a half-smile. ‘Handling that stuff can definitely be dodgy but it’s safe enough now.’

  ‘But what’re these?’ Snook asked, moving across the room. ‘There’s two more bags on my bunk.’ He picked them up ‘These weren’t here before. Looks like they’re made outta some foreign-lookin’ material. See!’ He held out one of the bags. ‘Have a look.’

  Jars reached over and felt the material. ‘It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. And there’s something else.’ Snook handed the two bags over. She held them up to her nose. ‘It’s got a sort of almond smell.’ She opened one of the bags, then the other. She looked inside. ‘It’s the stolen crystals from Pearson’s shop and that other place, the jewellery shop in Strahan! And guess what?’ She put in her hand and pulled out another deli-cate, orange-red specimen much like the realgar. ‘It’s Mr Wu’s crocoite!’

  Snook craned his neck to see. ‘This is all gettin’ a bit much. I’ve only got a small brain, you know. What’s it all mean?’

  But Jars wasn’t listening. She was thinking about the crocoite and how much it had meant to Mr Wu, how the aliens had wanted it to repair their spaceship. She was also wondering how and why it had suddenly appeared here now?

  Then she understood. It was incredible, but it was the only explanation that made sense. The aliens had brought it. They had fixed their ship and had learned of Mr Wu’s wish to give the crocoite to her. He must have told them. In her mind’s eye, she could see Wu Han now with Po-Yee on his lap, sitting by his fire smiling and telling her what he wanted. Suddenly, she felt terribly sad. But she knew what she had to do now – return the rest of the stolen items to their owners.

  ‘C’mon, everybody,’ Reg said, breaking the mood, ‘it’s time to move out of here. We’ve got a boat to catch.’

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  * * *

  'The boat’s coming,’ Jars said to the others. ‘I can hear it.’ They were standing around next to the old jetty waiting.

  The Shandora drifted the last few yards alongside into shore. Jim stepped onto the jetty while Arnie held the boat steady.

  ‘What the … what’s going on?’ Jim’s bottom jaw dropped. His mind filled with a thousand questions. What was Hector Grimshaw doing here? Why were his wrists tied? Why is Snook looking so smug and pleased with himself? He looked across at Snook. ‘Well?’

  Snook pointed at Hector. ‘He was shootin’ and his sister and Mr Quigley were tryin’ to steal a treasure from us and there was this Mr Wu, he …’

  ‘Whoa there. That’s enough. You’re talkin’ gobble-d-gook.’ He turned to Reg. ‘So, what’s the story?’

  Reg didn’t answer. Instead, he pointed to the boat. ‘What say we make tracks. I’ll fill you in on the way. It’s a long story, but be warned, you probably won’t believe it.’

  Quenton and Arnie sat next to each other in the cabin, neither feeling inclined to talk. Not after the happenings of the last few days. Quenton was the worst. Seeing his father for the first time in twelve months in such circumstances had clearly shaken him.

  Arnie wasn’t much better. He looked across at his brother. Hector, still trussed, had wedged himself into a corner as though trying to hide. ‘W-why d-did you d-do it?’ Arnie managed to say .

  Hector raised his eyes; then through thin, twisted lips he said, ‘You’re a traitor, a double-crossing rat. You’re a deserter, so don’t talk to me. I don’t wanna hea
r any of your stupid questions.’ Signalling that his tirade was over, he turned his head back towards the corner.

  Surprisingly, Quenton turned to Arnie and patted him on the shoulder. ‘Don’t listen to him; he’s the rat and so is my father.’

  In the meantime, Jim was listening to Reg’s version of the last few days. ‘Unbelievable,’ Jim said, shaking his head back and forth. He reached over and turned on the two-way radio.

  ‘Coastguard. Urgent! This is Jim Kelly, skipper of The Shandora. Please inform police that two occupants of a small craft, currently heading for Strahan area, have committed the offence of attempted robbery. We have apprehended another person who was a likely accomplice. He is now in our custody. Estimated time of arrival at main wharf is approximately one hour. Request you inform authorities to meet us on wharf asap. Over and out.’

  At one-thirty, The Shandora dropped anchor at the Strahan wharf. Still on board, waiting to disembark, Jars dug Quenton in the ribs. ‘You won’t get seasick going through Hell’s Gates now.’

  ‘Why?’

  She pointed towards the concrete area of the wharf. ‘Because your mum and my auntie are on the wharf waiting for us. You won’t have to go back on the boat after all.’

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  * * *

  Quenton’s mother and Irene had left Cray Bay early that morning and now formed part of a small crowd that had gathered on the wharf. Earlier, they had been in a small cafe across the road when they saw The Shandora approaching. Downing their coffees, they’d made their way to the berthing area, and now, standing among a group of rather excited onlookers, they wondered what was going on.

  ‘What on earth’s happening?’ Madeline said. ‘The police are even here.’

  Irene raised her hands in the air. ‘I’ve no idea. I just hope the kids are all right … wherever they are. We’ll find out soon enough, though. The boat’s here.’

  The Shandora drew alongside the wharf. As soon as its engines shut down, a serious-looking Arnie jumped ashore and began tying up to a couple of bollards. Almost immediately, Jim and the others followed.

  ‘Hi love, what’re you doing here?’ Jim said, spotting his wife straightaway. He walked over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. ‘You’ve brought Madeline too, I see.’

  ‘What on earth’s happened?’ Irene asked. ‘Why is that man tied up? Where have you all been? What have you been doing?’

  Jim opened his mouth to offer some sort of explanation, but he was too late. Irene and Madeline had seen the kids. They forgot Jim and raced over to them. ‘Are you okay? Where have you been?’ Snook’s mother was the first to ask, inspecting Snook and Jars for injuries. ‘And Quenton, how are …’ She didn’t go any further. Madeline was already fussing over him.

  Jim came over. ‘It’s okay; everybody’s fine. Look, I’ll fill you in later, but right now all of us have to go and talk to the police.’ He placed his arm around his wife. ‘Why don’t you and Madeline go for a coffee? There’s a shop across the road. We shouldn’t be too long.’

  Still looking confused, Irene reluctantly nodded her head. She grabbed her friend’s arm. ‘It looks like we’re going to have to wait for answers … for now, anyway.’ They headed across the road as asked.

  As soon as the women had left, two police officers advanced towards Jim. Guessing that he was in charge, one of them, in a no-nonsense way, said, ‘I’m Sergeant Wilson. This is Constable Collins.’

  After a quick glance towards Hector, he asked, ‘What’s this all about? Is that man one of the alleged thieves?’

  Jim quickly explained, about the shooting, the attempted robbery and how Evelyn Grimshaw and Quigley escaped by boat.

  Getting the gist of the situation, the sergeant turned to his partner. ‘Joe, hightail it over to the little jetty on the edge of town. See if the other boat’s docked there. Place them under arrest if it has.’

  ‘Just one moment.’ It was Reg. He dug into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flicked it open and showed it to the sergeant. Displayed inside was a signed I.D. card. It read:

  ‘R CARTER – CONSULTANT – AUSTRALIAN RESEARCH INSTITUTE’

  ‘So? What are you saying?’

  ‘Some time ago a man died on the Strahan wharf, a Mr Yao Ming. Are you familiar with that incident?’

  The sergeant nodded. ‘Yes I am, Strahan was in my jurisdic-tion then and from memory a post mortem revealed that he died from arsenic.’

  It was Reg’s turn to nod. ‘As I understand it you haven’t, as yet, found out where the arsenic came from or how it ended up in his system. Is that correct, Sergeant?’

  ‘I guess so. It was a mystery to us then. Still is now. It’s been put on the unsolved cases file for over a year.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s a mystery any more. I’m almost certain the poison came from a mineral called realgar. I learned of its unique properties during my work. I also heard of your unsolved case and, well, I just wondered …’ He could see the bemused look on the sergeant’s face. He briefly explained: ‘I used to be a ranger but now I’m a research scientist.’

  The sergeant spluttered. His department, plus the Hobart and Launceston police, had been puzzling over the Yao Ming case for ages, and out of the blue this academic comes along and reckon he has it solved … in five minutes. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He did neither. ‘We’ll look into it, your theory, and let you know if you’re right. But I doubt it.’ He scratched the top of his head instead.

  Reg went on, ‘If it’s all the same to you, I might as well go with your constable. I know the people we’re after.’

  The sergeant, as though lost for words, waved his hand towards the police car; then he stood watching and scratching his head as Reg and the constable sped off along The Esplanade towards the little jetty on the western side of town.

  After they’d gone, the sergeant didn’t waste any time. He drew himself up to his full height, thrust out his chin and in his best commanding voice, said, ‘I’ll need statements from all of you. You won’t be required to attend the station in Queenstown but there is a room in a hotel we sometimes use for purposes such as this. It’s the one on the hill. We’ll have to walk, I’m afraid; Joe’s got our one and only car.’

  Snook was curious. ‘Statements? We gotta make statements? What’re they?’

  His father explained.

  ‘Yuck. That sucks. That’s just like bein’ in school.’

  Jars looked down at Shadow. He was looking a little perplexed. Things were happening around him that he didn’t understand. She gave him a pat. ‘Don’t worry; you won’t have to make a statement.’

  Snook overheard. ‘That’s a pity. He could do mine. He probably knows more than I do, anyhow.’

  Chapter Sixty

  * * *

  'Take a seat,’ the sergeant said after they were ushered into one of the back rooms of the hotel and Hector had been locked in another room. ‘This is the hotel’s staff room,’ he explained, ‘but it’ll serve our purpose for now.’ There was a long table, several chairs, some in-boxes for mail and an urn. A row of mugs that hung on hooks lined the end wall, and beneath them were some cupboards next to a sink.

  He pointed at Jars, who was standing at the back of the room. ‘We’ll start with you. Name and address first. Then tell me everything that’s happened.’

  Sitting behind the computer, fingers poised above the keyboard, the sergeant waited.

  Jars, eyes lowered, stepped forward. She didn’t want to do this. It was too … confronting. She forced herself and in a wavering, halting voice, she told the policeman everything she could remember. She told him about Mr Wu and his collection, about the strange creatures from outer space, about Shadow capturing Hector, and about Evelyn Grimshaw and Quenton’s dad making their suspicious escape from the ranger’s shack.

  The sergeant, who had been busy writing notes on a pad, looked up and asked, ‘Did you see either Evelyn Grimshaw or Hector Grimshaw actually steal anything from the
shack?’

  ‘No, but they left evidence. The bag with the crystals was on the table. When we came back it was on the floor.’ She lifted her eyes and pointed towards her uncle. ‘That bag, the one my Uncle Jim is holding by its edge ’cause there might be finger prints on it, is the one with the precious stones, the one they tried to steal.’

  ‘Mmmm, I see. Finger prints, you say. Well, I’ll need to retain that, I’m afraid … for evidence.’ He took the bag from Jim and placed it to one side. That done, he continued with the paperwork.

  Snook was the last to be interviewed. ‘Where’d ya stick Hector?’ he asked, before Sergeant Wilson could say anything.

  ‘Don’t worry about him. He’s not going anywhere.’

  ‘What’s gonna happen to ’im? Will he be charged with somethin’?’

  ‘That’s for the courts to decide.’

  ‘I think he should be. He’s not very nice.’

  ‘You’re a persistent little devil, aren’t you?’ The sergeant took off his hat and scratched his head for the second time that day. ‘Look, all I can say is that if he has committed a crime then he will be taken to court and charged accordingly.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘In Burnie, I should imagine.’

  ‘What’ll he be charged with?’

  A kind of arrrgh sound came from the back of his throat. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. ‘That’ll be enough for now. No more questions.’ Returning to a more normal posture, he pushed up from the chair. ‘There’s enough material here for us to get the picture, but I must say, some of your statements about aliens and flying saucers are a bit, shall we say, startling.’