by Edna Dawes
She took her favourite place on the jetty beside him, with her feet dangling in the water.
“Tell me what went on in the office,” he asked. “Did they give you all the details?”
Nancy nodded and immediately sobered. “Ken Jamieson has confessed to killing his brother—there was no point in denying it, against the evidence they have—and together with the story that Charlie’s wife has told them there are grounds for a full-scale trial. Charlie ordered stuff from Sydney which came out on the boat each month and which he sold at a profit to T’iang. He used the path round Disaster Point for these transactions, and it was while returning from one of them that the tail of a storm hit Wonara. Charlie sheltered in the jungle and was about to move off when he heard an aircraft overhead. The Jamiesons’ plane had been struck by lightning and they had no control over their direction. The pilot was trying to land on Wonara but he overshot it and dropped into the sea. Ken Jamieson scrambled out first, but as his brother was struggling to release himself, Ken saw the ideal opportunity to become sole director of the firm. He says it was carried out on a sudden impulse—but it is still murder! It was a simple matter to strike his brother down just as the aircraft sank, and then swim away from the spot.
“Charlie had witnessed everything, and saw the possibility of making some money from blackmail. At that stage, he had no idea who his victim was, so his demand was very modest by his later standards. Jamieson gave way to the inevitable and they worked out a plan together. Charlie arranged with T’iang for Jamieson to be smuggled out by boat to the next island, where he could pick up a steamer to New Guinea. Once there, he hid out in the interior and emerged ten days later, in a suitably emaciated state, but not nearly as incoherent as he made out.”
Ben broke into her story with a loud oath, and added: “What some blokes are prepared to do for money! Anyone who would willingly spend ten days in that New Guinea jungle without supplies or weapons is not sane enough to be the owner of such wealth.”
“It won’t do him much good now,” reflected Nancy. “Well, to finish the story: if Charlie had been content with the amount Jamieson agreed to pay into his Sydney bank account each month, he’d still be alive now. It was not until the newspapers carrying the headline story arrived on Wonara that Charlie realized the full potential of his hold over Jamieson. He immediately went down to ensure that the wrecked aircraft was accessible, and planned to collect the opals after his wife had contacted Jamieson. He sent her to Sydney earlier than planned, so that she was on hand for negotiations with him. That’s why Charlie was so anxious to get a letter from her when the boat came. You see, Ben,” she explained, “our friend T’iang had turned the tables on Charlie after he had helped the stranger get away secretly. Using his own kind of blackmail, T’iang demanded the supplies from Sydney as a gift from then on, and Charlie had to agree to leave the window of the stores open every so often for the masked raiders. Luckily, the native boy had no inkling of what lay beneath the sea, or the opals would never have been seen again.
“The news of Jamieson’s agreement to meet their demand came in that letter to Charlie which you gave him on the day I arrived. No wonder he was so full of bounce the following night!”
“Yeah, he had been unbearably chirpy since his wife left. I think she has had a lucky escape.”
“How do you mean?”
He looked askance at her and pursed his lips. “You don’t think a bloke like Jamieson would allow Charlie and his wife to bleed him to death financially? He would have thought of means to get them both out of the way. Now this has come to light, she’ll be safe—in prison, perhaps, but safe. Do they reckon Charlie killed Jim?”
“No. It appears he was unaware that anyone else was interested in the wreck. He only went down there when he read about the opals. Until then, it held no interest for him.” She swung her feet through the crystal water. “Sheila was working late with Uncle Matt that night, and Rod was talking to her for an hour or so afterwards, so it looks as though Jim really was the victim of an accident.”
Ben sat looking at the seaplane which had brought the two detectives early that morning, and which would be taking Sheila Maitland back when it returned. “If Charlie didn’t suspect that anyone knew what he was up to, why did he start attacking other divers? Have they figured that out yet?”
Nancy shook her head. “They can only guess that he decided to have a preliminary look at the aircraft after receiving his wife’s letter, and discovered it was no longer in the same place. He must then have become desperate to get the opals before they were irretrievably lost.”
“That’s why I’ve never taken to a life of crime,” reflected Ben. “You start off with something quite small, and then it never ends until you destroy yourself.”
“I’m pleased someone has a head firmly screwed on,” said Rod from behind them. “Your turn at the office, Ben. They’re taking statements from everyone—even those who aren’t first-hand witnesses.”
Ben got up slowly—he was still taking life at a leisurely pace. “Nancy has just been filling in the details. It’s a heck of a yarn!”
“Yes,” agreed Rod, and took Ben’s place beside Nancy on the sun-warmed planks of the jetty. “It’s not only a heck of a yarn, it has practically ruined my project on volcanic evolution,” he added bitterly. “I shall be left with two staff short, and I still don’t have a photographer. It’s virtually out of the question to try to continue under these conditions.”
The compulsion to look up at him was too great and, immediately, the fuse was lit. The way he was studying her produced the same breathlessness and pain in her chest that she’d had when near to drowning. The darkening intensity in Rod’s eyes betrayed him, just as surely.
Recognizing the danger, Nancy said quickly: “David has offered to take me back in the seaplane tonight.”
It was a shock Rod couldn’t hide. “Why? They won’t want your evidence for several months, when the trial comes up.”
“I thought, you’d welcome it if I left.”
“No, I don’t.” He was irrationally angry. “You are supposed to be here for another two weeks—you have a berth on the boat already booked. After your heated advice about not giving up, how do you suppose we are going to work without an underwater photographer? You are the only person who can help us. So much for your brave words! You are proposing to walk out at the first possible opportunity!”
“I’m not walking out!” she cried hotly. “I haven’t given him a definite answer.”
“Well, now you can—it’s no.”
“All right,” she heard herself agree. “I can’t say I relished the thought of being there when Sheila and Alec have to say good-bye.”
Rod sighed. “She is like those opals—smooth and cold on the outside, with a hidden heart of fire!” He paused for a second. “You are just the opposite, Nancy. Your fiery heart is there for everyone to see.” He took her hands. “You know what I did when I asked you to stay, don’t you?”
It was impossible not to look at him now. “Prolonged what you consider to be an explosive situation.”
“How about letting it explode and see what happens?”
She was in his arms and finding it difficult to think straight. “Aunt Meg would be embarrassed.”
He smiled. “If you are going to spend the next twelve months in this ‘dump’ she’ll soon learn to accept it!”
“Oh, am I going to spend the next twelve months here?”
“If I say so—I’m an old-fashioned guy who believes that stuff in the marriage service about love, honour and obey.”
“Oh, so we’re to have a marriage service, are we?”
“Well, what do you think! Of course we are! We’re not having any of your casual city ways here, Mrs. McNaughton-to-be!”
“Well, I’ll—” But his kiss cut short whatever it was she was going to say.
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