“Who Did It?”
SHORTLY AFTER ten-thirty the secretary of the Bermagui Big Game Anglers’ Club announced the weight of Bony’s second swordfish. The crowd on the jetty raised a cheer, and, when theMarlin was finally moored, strangers to Bony shook hands with him, and others asked for his autograph.
Joe’s estimated weight was remarkably close, for the fish scaled at five hundred and eighty-one pounds. Suspended from the hoist at the head of the jetty it looked enormous, and subsequent pictures of it hanging on the town triangle, with Bony standing close beside it and holding one of Blade’s spare rods, were even more impressive as the angler was dwarfed to almost a third its length. He did not get away for some time, having to submit to amateur photographers and more autograph-hunters.
The entire township was thrilled by his capture, and for three days people from inland towns and farms came to see and photograph it. The fame which came to Bony was to have repercussions he could not have foreseen.
Showered and shaved and dressed in usual day clothes, he spent an hour in Blade’s office where he received reports from the secretary and Wilton concerning matters he thought it best for them to inquire into. After lunch he wrote at length to his wife and to the Chief Commissioner in Sydney, posting these letters himself. Later he visited Nott’s Tea Rooms, where he was waited on by Marion Spinks. She exhibited just that degree of interest which caused Bony to suspect that had the fate of her brother been less uncertain his fine capture would have been given intense enthusiasm. He asked her if she still felt that William Spinks was not dead, and her answer was the same.
He was wondering what reliance could be placed on this example of affinity between twins as he walked up to the headland with his brief-case under an arm. He was no mocker of unexplained mental phenomena, being conversant with the astonishing power of telepathy possessed by his mother’s people, and himself often having been guided aright by what he called intuition.
In him intuition was divorced from impressions of people and things. One of the first lessons he had learned in his profession of crime investigation was never to permit impressions of men and women to blossom into such importance that they swayed him to form judgements not based on cold facts. The final analysis which places a man on trial is not gained by impressions of his personality obtained by his accusers. They know well that the Lombroso school of criminology, defining criminals by their heads and countenances, is wholly in error; that your smiling, easy-mannered handsome man is often capable of slitting a human throat, and that your low-browed, ill-favoured man will just as often ask another to put an injured horse or a dog beyond its agony.
The point in any investigation arrived when a particular person came to the screen of Bony’s mind for intimate examination. This was when a correlation of facts offered the possibility of this particular person having been in the position of being able to act in a particular manner. Such an examination was always due to facts and not to impressions.
This afternoon he found shelter from the wind (which would have teased his papers) among the scrub facing the seaward edge of the grass-crowned headland, and some distance back from its blunt apex facing to the north. He was here able to look out over the sea to the long eastern horizon, as well as to the north where the summit of Montague Island and its light-house seemed to be fugitive from the massive Dromedary Mountain.
The sea was blue and green, and speckled with white horses running northward to ride down the long rollers still coming westward after the commotion of yesterday’s storm. A hundred feet below where he lounged the grey and brown armour of the headland was being ceaselessly splashed by a white paint which gave no hope of permanency. Bony’s remarkable eyes found the mast of two launches supported apparently not by a craft but by the hair-like line of the meeting of sea and sky. A third launch trolled miles out from the Brothers rocks, and Bony’s mind was pricked with a pang of envy. Yet resolutely he exorcised the devil that was trying to tempt him from legitimate work.
He lay over on his chest and pressed his eyes to his crossed forearms the better to shut out memory of the sea and those launches trolling for swordfish, as well as to rest his aching eyes from the reflected glare. In this pseudo darkness he was able to throw upon the screen of his mind the picture of that key plan evolved by Blade and himself from the maps completed by the launchmen and from information received. On this plan the sea had been forced to retain the tracks of five motor-launches, a small steam launch, a trawler and an overseas liner. He continued to have faith that here was hidden a clue of vital importance once he obtained a lead indicating it.
Bony’s belief that Time was his greatest ally was once more justified by the discovery of Spinks’s rifle on board Rockaway’sDolfin . It did not occur to him that this was a lucky coincidence: that if the storm had not arisen, if the swordfish had not taken his bait-fish when it did, they would not have been forced to shelter inside Wapengo Inlet, would not have met the Rockaways and been offered the hospitality of theDolfin. If the rifle had not been presented to him by Time, Time eventually would have given him another lead. Time has been pictured as an old man, but Bony visualized Time as being a fair woman much like Dame Fortune who, if ignored, will bestow her many gifts.
On this occasion Time had been generous with her gifts to him. He had ignored her, wanting only the thrill of fighting fish, and she had insisted with her gifts on recalling him to the work which had brought him to Bermagui. Beside the rifle, she had presented him with several large-sized paint-brushes which pointed to the key plan on which was the track of a mysterious steam launch painted dark-grey, or warship grey. Had Blade and he not evolved that plan, the paint-brushes in Rockaway’s shed would have had no significance whatsoever. The rifle could easily be explained. It could be said that a member of theDolfin ’s crew had found it on a beach, or beside a road, and was entirely ignorant of its connection with theDo-me.
The importance of the rifle, however, was greatly emphasized by the discovery of the paint-brushes which formed the genesis of a trail that becamemore easy to follow the farther it went.
Bony had observed that the colour scheme of Rockaway’s house was white and light-brown. His launch was painted a silver-grey, whilst his jetty was treated with a preparation containing tar. The house builder and decorator at Bermagui, named Lawson, had informed Blade that the interior of Rockaway’s house had been “done” by him during August, and that nowhere had grey paint of any shade been used in the work.
For what purpose, therefore, had those several large paintbrushes in Rockaway’s shed applied paint of a warship grey shade?
Blade’s interview with the house decorator had produced further information of paramount interest. Rockaway had told Bony that he regretted being unable to entertain him at his house because it was in chaos due to the work of interior renovation. Lawson said he was not doing this, did not know who was doing it, and was not aware that it was being done. He had built the house, and since then had effected all repairs and renovations. He doubted that renovation was being carried out at this time.
Question: Was the renovating work being done with those several brushes still stained with dark-grey paint? If so, was not dark-grey paint an unusual colour to apply to the interior of a house?
Question: If Rockaway’s statement regarding the condition of his house was false, what lay behind it? It was obvious that he was naturally generous, a true sportsman who would throw his house wide open to an angler experiencing adverse conditions, and not wishing to invite Bony to his house he had done the next most generous thing by presenting him with the use of his luxurious launch. The offer of hospitality had not been sought, nor had it been expected. Perhaps a few provisions to be gratefully returned at a future date, yes, when the engine cabin of theMarlin would have provided shelter for the night, if little comfort.
Again the key plan was screened. On 3rd October theDolfin put to sea early to engage in swordfishing as there were two rods mounted in her stern. The trawler people last saw her at eight am when she disappeared in the haze of the south-east. At approximately twenty minutes after noon of this day the officer of the watch and the quartermaster on duty on the linerOrcades sighted a small steam launch painted warship grey. They did not remember sighting theDolfin at any time during their passage up the coast.
Was there not reason to assume that, after theDolfin had been lost sight of by those on the trawler, those aboard her had hurriedly painted her a warship grey with those several large brushes found by Wilton in Rockaway’s shed? They could have fashioned a funnel with a length of stove piping, and have put up the hinged mast having a shorter top-joint. The fact that theOrcades passed close to the grey-painted steam launch, reported to be longer than the average fishing launch, might have been engineered by those on the disguisedDolfin to attract attention and so divert possible suspicion from theDolfin normally painted silver-grey.
Further to all this, Bony possessed authority to assume that Rockaway had pre-knowledge of theDo-me ’s shark fishing trip to Swordfish Reef.
The evening prior to the disappearance of theDo-me, Rockaway’s truck was repaired by Mr Parkins, the garage owner. In the main bar parlour of the hotel, Ericson entertained several anglers and Blade that evening. Blade recalled that the prospective trip to Swordfish Reef was lengthily discussed. He remembered, too, seeing in the hotel both Malone and Marshall, Rockaway’s launchmen.
There are three small parlours opening off the main bar, in another of which that evening lurked Joe and Eddy Burns, and according to Burns he distinctly remembered hearing Malone’s harsh voice from the interior of the third parlour. So that Malone and Marshall could easily have heard the discussion in the main parlour about the trip to Swordfish Reef the following day. Through Malone, Rockaway could have learned that night of Ericson’s intentions.
There was reason enough to assume all this; and to assume further that after those on theOrcades had lost sight of the dark-grey steam launch, that this launch ran westward to Swordfish Reef to do what was done to theDo-me and those on board her. Then the disguisedDolfin cleared away out to sea to avoid being sighted by other launches. There she was equally able to escape the notice of steamers passing north or south, and only north or south. After dark she ran into Wapengo Inlet where work on removing the grey kalsomine or cold water paint was at once begun. During the night the warship-grey paint would be removed, and daylight would permit any remaining evidence of the kalsomine to be wiped away. Then, perhaps a coat of silver-grey paint would have been applied to make doubly sure that the temporary disguise was removed.
Again faced by the usual three questions: how was it done? Why was it done? Who did it? Bony was becoming confident of the answer to the third question. The answer to “How was it done?” could for the present be left in abeyance, but the answer to the second question, “Why was it done?” might well be gleaned from the fictitious diary he was compiling from data supplied by the Anglers’ Club secretary, Ericson’s cheque-book, a solicitor’s statements, letters from Ericson to his friend the Chief Commissioner, and the weather records. The diary was fictitious only in that it was to be imagined that Ericson had kept it from day to day, from the time of his arrival at Bermagui to that day he had been murdered, or the day it was assumed that he was murdered.
Bony continued his work on this diary, and completed it about four o’clock. In a low voice he began to read it, finding that speaking decelerated the speed of his mind, thus making it digest each item in its turn. The diary thus read:
September 5. Arrived Bermagui by car and found quarters at the Bermagui Hotel. Weather squally and showery.
September 6. Arranged with Blade for oddments necessary to complete my gear for this tuna fishing. Also arranged with William Spinks about the hire of his launch, theDo-me. Met this evening five other anglers. (Note: Four of these anglers were known to Blade by previous visits. The fifth was a tourist from England, unknown to Blade, named Edwin Henderson. Henderson gave his Australian address as the Australian Hotel, Melbourne.)Weather fine and wind moderating. Spent the evening in the parlour talking fish with Henderson and Blade.
September 7. Started fishing today. Weather fine and wind light, but was seasick off and on. Caught ten tuna ranging up to twelve pounds. Great sport with light tackle. FoundDo-me to be a stout craft, and the two men keen on the job. Went to bed soon after dinner.
September 8. Weather good. Was not sick. Feeling very fit. Brought home fifteen tuna and numerous king-fish of no great weight. Put in the evening talking in the parlour with anglers.
September 9. Another good fishing day. Weather moderate.
September 10. Too rough to go out today. As time is of no value, I don’t intend to suffer discomfort. Ordered a lunch hamper and tramped south along the road to Tathra from which base line stretches of coast were explored. Like this place very much. Went to bed early.
September 11. Two of the anglers departed. Fishing moderate. Weather stormy.
September 12. Fishing much better today. Paid hotel bill.
September 13. Henderson departed today for Melbourne. Says he will certainly come out again next year. Fishing fair but good in weight. Four ranged from sixteen to twenty-three pounds.
September 14. Fishinggood. Paid Spinks week’s hire of boat.
September 15. Too rough to fish. Walked to Tilba Tilba, there had lunch at the hotel, and returned late this afternoon. Found that two Sydney anglers and their wives had arrived.
September 16. Had a great day. Amazed by shoals of tuna south of Montague Island. Fought fish after fish till my arms ached. Gaffed a fine one which Blade weighed at thirty-one pounds. This is an astonishing coast for fish. Seen more today in the water than I have throughout my life. Talked with Blade in the parlour most of the evening.
September 17. Too rough to go out, although the others did whose time here is limited. Have the idea of settling here and so looked at property for sale. This place is a fisherman’s paradise all right, and they tell me that the swordfishing is excellent from December to April. Went with a Mr Pink and Blade to look at two properties on the outskirts of Bermagui. Saw a plot of land about five acres overlooking the township and the river and the bay. Could build there and be most happy. Blade a charming fellow and very helpful. Prices seem reasonable, but Australian State* and Commonwealth Income Taxes on top of British taxes would be a burden unless I transferred my investments from England. *State governments no longer impose income taxes, and have not done so sinceWorld War II.
September 18. Good fishing but sea rough. Talked land and houses with Blade in parlour after dinner. Wrote to Henry and paid hotel account.(Henry-Commissioner of Police.)
September 19. Fishinggood. Weather improved.
September 20. Rained all day, but sea fairly calm. Fishinggood. Biggest tuna weighed twenty-nine pounds. Three more anglers arrived.
September 21. Another good day. Several anglers departed. Paid hire of launch.
September 22. Fishing excellent. Sea alive with tuna for miles and miles. Fished till tired out. No waiting between fish. This evening wrote Henry that I was seriously thinking of settling here, and of buyingthat five acres of land. Could build a nice place there, and have my own launch and run a garden. Told Blade about these dreams of mine, and he seemed delighted. Keen fellow, Blade, for his club and Bermagui.
September 23. Generally good day.
September 24. Weather fine and fishing fair.
September 25. Weather hazy and sea calm. Fishing again excellent. Paid hotel bill.
September 26. Too rough to fish. Had another tramp over those five acres. Talked about things with Spinks in the cabin of theDo-me during afternoon. Suggested I might buy a launch, and offered him a position of managing it for me. He seemed keen. Decided this evening to buy the five acres.
September 27. Too rough to go out first part of day, so hired a car and interviewed a solicitor at Cobargo to act for mere purchase of the five acres. Fishing good in the afternoon. Blade went out with me.
September 28. Weather still rough and fishing again good. Paid Spinks for hire of launch. Suggested that his mother and sister could live with him at my new house. Have extra rooms added if they would. Mother could cook and sister housemaid for me.
September 29. Weather moderating. Fishing superlative. Fished till I was tired. Then let Garroway and Spinks take a turn. Fished again till I could fish no more.
September 30. Too rough to go out. Prospected my five acres on which I have paid for option to purchase. Yarned with launchmen at the jetty all afternoon. Enjoyed their company much: heard many amusing and interesting stories of fishing and the coast. Was given details of a strange affair of many years ago which resulted in the naming of Mystery Bay, up the coast a little. Once a policeman always a policeman, I suppose, for I find I am attracted to a mystery just as much as in the old days.
October 1. Fishing wild and sea boisterous. Wrote Henry this evening telling him I had bought the land, and saying I would insist on him and Muriel coming down for the house warming.
October 2. Weather fine and warm. Fished till my arms ached. Biggest catch a twenty-four pounder. Saw a man named Rockaway on jetty when we got in. Rockaway had brought in a tuna which Blade announced to weigh sixty-seven pounds. Like Rockaway’s launch, but it looks a little too expensive for my purse. Had a party tonight in the parlour, several anglers and Blade being my guests. Talked of trying Swordfish Reef tomorrow for sharks, Blade saying he could fit me up with heavy rod and line and trace and hooks.
October 3. Weather dead calm and sea flat. Hazy. Went straight out to Swordfish Reef. Last saw the launchSnowy at eight-five a.m. Last sawEdith making to the north-east at eighty-forty a.m. Last sawGladious, south of us, at eleven-five a.m. Haze hid coast-line and low hills, but could see summit of Dromedary Mountain clear above the haze.
From this point Bony could proceed no further with Ericson’s imagined diary. Its details were of necessity meagre, but in their sectioning under dates they formed the skeleton to which a host of details yet to be garnered could be added. Somewhere in that range of time recorded in the diary must lurk a fact which would point to the answers to the questions: How was it done? Why was it done? Who did it?
He was pensively rolling a cigarette when a shadow fell across his feet and a woman said, wonderingly:
“Hullo! What are you doing there?”