The Conference
IT WAS DARK when Bony entered Constable Telfer’s office to see there, other than the policeman, the owners of theGladious, theEdith and theSnowy, and Joe and Wilton. Setting a suit-case and a brief-case on the table, previously cleared by Telfer, Bony smiled at the seamen and asked them to draw chairs to the table and be seated. Not a man answered his smile: every one of them was wondering why he had been asked to attend and what he had to do with the reason actuating Telfer’s request that they attend.
“Gentlemen,” Bony began, seating himself at the head of the table. “I have an explanation to offer and then a favour to ask which I am confident you will grant. It is known that I am a cattleman from the Northern Territory here on a fishing holiday. My name, indeed, is Napoleon Bonaparte, but I am as insignificant as the great Emperor was mighty until disease, not his enemies, destroyed him. I am a detective-inspector from Queensland come here to Bermagui to solve the mystery of theDo-me and the fate of those who went to sea on her.”
The men stared for a fraction of a second at the dark and handsome face supported by the encircling starched collar. Then they glanced at each other and at Telfer, who sat at the other end of the table. As though accustomed to addressing meetings, Bony waited until their attention was again directed to him. Then:
“All of us here have a common interest. Constable Telfer and I hope to succeed in bringing to light the fate of theDo-me and those three men, not only because it is what we are being paid a salary to do, but because, as normal citizens suspecting foul play, we desire to see justice done. Your interest in the matter is also of a dual nature. You want to see justice done on behalf of Spinks and his mate, as well as on behalf of the unfortunate angler, and you want to see lifted the shadow this mystery has cast on Bermagui and big game angling here. You will, I know, be anxious to have this mystery solved, having reasonable hope that the solution will prove that it was not the sea or the normal conditions of deep-sea angling off this coast which accounted for the disappearance of theDo-me.”
This produced confirmatory exclamations.
“I have taken the liberty of making the usual inquiries about all of you, and these inquiries produce the belief that you are one and all decent fellows who, when my request is placed before you, will gladly consent to assist me. I know that the average man and womanis suspicious of a detective, dreading to be associated with a criminal trial with all its inconveniences and worries. I am aware that there have been detectives whose ethics were not above reproach, but today they are exceedingly few in number. I am not going to ask you to make statements, and tell you to be careful what you say, and then cross-examine you as though I believe you to be liars.
“My Chief Commissioner often tells me that I am a cursed bad policeman but a damned good detective. As a fact, I am an investigator who once I am able to say how it was done and who did it, leaves the arrest and charge to other officers. I am interested less in the fate of a criminal than his psychology.
“I am convinced that neither the sea nor its hazards were responsible for the disappearance of theDo-me. The recovery of the human head by the trawler crew indicates murder, and the wound in the head was caused by a. 45 pistol bullet and not a. 32 rifle bullet fired from the rifle Spinks always had with him on theDo-me with which to dispatch sharks. That Mr Ericson was shot and his body thrown overboard to be partially devoured by the sharks may be taken for granted. Placing last things first, the question is: Who killed Ericson?”
In the short ensuing silence the men relaxed, but their supple bodies again tensed when he continued speaking.
“You all knew William Spinks and his mate, Robert Garroway. You will hasten to assure me that neither killed his patron. I incline to agree with you because of the absence of any motive for the crime, and because Mr Ericson intended to settle here and benefit the entire Spinks family. It is possible that Garroway had a motive for killing Mr Ericson, for Garroway was not included in Ericson’s plans for settling here and he may have resented the prospect of unemployment. I used the word ‘possible’ not the word ‘probable’, which please note.
“And now for my request. A study of the reports compiled by the Sydney detectives indicated that they sought for wreckage and bodies along the coast and confined their investigations to the land. Aeroplanes searched the sea, we know, and Jack Wilton and Joe Peace, on theMarlin, hunted for flotsam: still the main investigations were confined to the land.
“It is my intention to concentrate on what happened to theDo-me. She put to sea that fine and calm morning, and she was seen later making towards Swordfish Reef. Because theDo-me was a vehicle of the sea and not of land, I find myself at a great disadvantage, not being a seaman as you are. Away beyond the railways, in my own country, I’d lose you in five minutes, but here on the sea you turn the tables on me. Now, will you join me in a free and easy discussion of this mystery, like business men discussing a deal, without thought of anything said being recorded and checked and-” Bony smiled-“used in evidence against you?”
This raised a general laugh and one after another the launch-men promptly assented.
“Thank you.” Bony reached forward and drew to him the suit-case: “Before we begin, gentlemen, I want you to join in drinking a toast to my first swordfish. Mr Telfer, glasses, please.”
Telfer departed for the glasses. Bony beamed on the conference, and produced bottles of beer.
“If the usual run of detectives used more tact-with beer-they’d get on better,” observed Eddy Burns, owner of theEdith, and on whose face was the indelible stamp of Anzac. “This is going to be the first time I’ve drunk beer in a police station.”
“I don’t care where I drink,” rumbled the vast Joe, to add as an afterthought: “Providin’ it ain’t water or tea.”
A stout man, whose face was perfectly round and whose eyes were small and blue-grey, chuckled but said nothing. His facial expression was one of eternal peace with himself and the world. Owner of theSnowy , his name was Edward Flandin. Telfer came in with the glasses, and Bony filled them and himself handed them round to his “collaborators”.
The toast was drunk with enthusiasm.
“May Inspector Bonaparte catch many more,” said Remmings, a dark, red-faced man and owner of theGladious.
“May he land the biggest yet,” said Eddy Burns.
“The second biggest,” interposed Flandin. “I promised the biggest to those Americans booked with me for next week.”
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Bony said, smilingly. “This is the first investigation I have conducted permitting me pleasure with work. Now let us begin.”
From his brief-case Bony produced a wad of papers and a bundle of sharpened pencils. Then, lighting a cigarette, he exhaled the smoke and looked through it at the conference.
“I am aware,” he said, “that you three men who were at sea the day theDo-me disappeared have already been severely questioned by the detectives. You, Remmings and Burns and Flandin state the time you left the jetty and the time you got back to it, and the time each of you last saw theDo-me. Although your respective statements are positive, the details are few and confined to those on which you were questioned. You can, I think, supply me with many more details of what happened that day. And your statements, when correlated, may well give me a lead. And a lead I must have.
“On one point I owe the Sydney men something: by their questioning of you they must have fixed in your minds a mental picture of everything you did that day theDo-me failed to reach port. You have had much time to think of that day, to discuss its generalities among yourselves.
“Now, here on these sheets of paper I have drawn a rough sketch map of the coast for twenty miles north and south of Bermagui. By the way, why is the town spelled Bermagui and the river Bermaguee?”
“The Postal Department named the town BERMAGUI,” replied Remmings. “It was a long time ago. Why, no one can tell.”
“And what does the word ‘Bermaguee’ mean? Do you know?” pressed Bony.
“Yes. It means, in abo language, a meeting place.”
“Ah! I like to know these small details. Now for my maps. I want you, Flandin and Remmings and Burns, each to take a map and a pencil, and to plot on your map, as accurately as possible, the course your launch followed throughout the whole of that vital day. Take your time. There are several bottles still to be emptied. I want you, Jack, to sketch on this map the position of Swordfish Reef, the edge of the Continental Shelf, and any other reefs of which you are familiar. And you, Joe, you are a man after my own heart, for you can track at sea as well as I can track on land. Do you think you could plot on this sketch map the drift a piece of flotsam would take assuming it came from theDo-me which sank above Swordfish Reef?”
Joe grinned with pleasure at the implied compliment.
“I’ll give ’er a go,” he said, and accepted paper and pencil, to examine the paper with his eyes screwed to pin-points whilst he sucked the point of the pencil.
“Were you able to borrow the weather records from the postmaster, Telfer?” asked Bony.
Telfer nodded, placed a wad of official forms before the detective-and then filled all glasses. The others worked industriously at their maps, and Bony fell to studying the weather records. One by one the maps were passed to him. He gave Flandin another sketch map of the coast, saying:
“I want you to plot the course of theDo-me till the moment you last sighted her, marking her position then, and your own position, with a cross and noting the approximate time.”
Flandin having done this the same map was passed to Burns, theEdith having been the next launch to have lost sight of theDo-me, and after he had continued theDo-me ’s course and marked his own and her position when he had last sighted her, Remmings was asked to continue the tale, as he on theGladious was the last of all to see theDo-me.
“When I am in my native bush, gentlemen,” Bony began in explanation, “everything I observe, except the clouds, is static. On the sea nothing is static. A ship does not leave tracks on the sea, but when I have transferred the courses of your launches and the ships you saw that vital day to one key plan we will see how the sea was tracked by their wakes for a few seconds.
“You have been patient with me, and I am going to present each of you with yet another blank sketch map and ask you to plot the course of any ship or other craft you saw during that day theDo-me disappeared.”
Whilst the men were working he thoughtfully watched them, noting how each bore the same stamp of the sea upon his face and neck and hands whilst retaining marked individuality. The colour of their eyes was different, but the manner in which all eyes were employed was exactly the same. Here in the lamplight all eyes were wide open, and all were as clear as the sea which was their background. When their maps had been returned to Bony, he gave several minutes to studying them. Then:
“So the mail steamer, Orcades, passed northward that day. How far out from shore was she?”
“About fourteen miles,” replied Burns, and Remmings agreed.
“You, Remmings, saw a trawler working south of theGladious. I assume that that was the same trawler which was spoken of the following night by you?”
“That’s so.”
“There was only the one trawler working off the coast hereabouts that day?”
“Only that one.”
“She was theA. S. 1, not theA. S. 3, which recovered the angler’s head?”
“Yes, she was theA. S. 1,” confirmed Remmings.
Bony produced a telegram from his suit-case, and, glancing at it, said to Remmings:
“You did not that day see a launch about fifty feet in length, without a mast, and painted a silver-grey?”
“No.”
“That day, Mr Remmings, you worked southward of Bermagui, and theEdith andSnowy worked about Montague Island which is north of Bermagui. I want you to be quite sure that you did not see that launch painted silver-grey. Think.”
“I’m quite sure about it,” Remmings said, positively. “If I had seen her I would have remembered because she must be theDolfin, Mr Rockaway’s launch.”
“Oh! I have not seen her.”
“No. She hasn’t been in with a fish since you’ve been here.”
“Where, then, is her headquarters?”
Telfer answered this question.
“Mr Rockaway has a house near the mouth of Wapengo Inlet, a mile or two south of Bunga Head. He’s been living there for a few years now. Builthis own private jetty.”
“Great angler,” supplemented Burns. “Mr Rockaway’s a member of the Bermagui Anglers’ Club, and when he catches a fish he brings it here to be weighed and recorded.”
“Hum!” Again Bony studied the sketch maps last filled with detail. “I see here that you, Burns and Flandin, have noted the presence of several launches in the vicinity of Montague Island, but have not named them. Where did they come from?”
“They came from Narooma, a bit north of Montague,” replied Flandin. “None of ’em were this side or east’ard of the Island.”
“So I see. And you, Burns, who that day was well east of Montague Island, would have seen any Narooma launch that was east of Montague Island, would you not?”
“Yes. I was trolling out there east of the Island most of the day.”
“Hum! Can you tell me why Spinks named his launch theDo-me?”
The question produced smiles and chuckles, and Remmings answered the question.
“When Bill Spinks and Joe, here, were building her we’d go and have a look at their work and chiack ’em about the ideas Spinks was putting into her, and he used to say: ‘Well, she’ll do me, anyway.’ ”
“And I suggested to Bill when naming came up that he call her theDo-me,” added Wilton.
“Well, I am most grateful to you men for your interest and assistance,” Bony said, smiling at them in turn. “We have certainly laid foundations more solid than those put down by the Sydney detectives. What I would like agreed upon is the limit of visibility that day theDo-me vanished. I mean the limit of visibility beyond, say, five miles off the coast.”
“There was more haze that day than there was today,” Flandin said, with slow deliberation.
“Yes, there was,” confirmed Burns. Then he asked: “Visibility of what, Mr Bonaparte? We’d see a liner farther away that day than a launch, you understand. We seen theOrcades quite plain at about six miles, but we’d have found it hard to see a launch at four miles.”
“Quite so, Burns. I am thinking of small craft sighted from small craft.”
“It wouldn’t be much more’n four miles,” Remmings contributed, and Flandin agreed with him.
Bony proceeded to question them about theDo-me. All stoutly resisted the suggestion that theDo-me was unseaworthy, or that her engine and petrol feed system was faulty and likely to cause fire.”
“She was only three years old,” Wilton said. “I helped to install her engine which was a new one, and her petrol-tank was away up in the bows. Spinks always stowed his supply of extra petrol up for’ard, because he and young Garroway were great cigarette smokers and he was naturally cautious. Anyway, if she’d caught fire someone would have seen the smoke.”
“And I’d have found drift wood or something when me and Jack follered the currents to Swordfish Reef the next day,” added Joe.
“Nothing happened to her like that,” Burns said, with solemn conviction. “Even if that head hadn’t been found I’d never believe that theDo-me disappeared through natural causes.”
“What were the odds against the trawler bringing up the head?” asked Bony. His confreres regarded the ponderous Joe who had once served aboard a trawler.
“Smaller than you’d think,” answered Joe. “The sea bottom is as plain to a trawler skipper as a paddock is to a farmer. The trawler man knows all the reefs, and all the bottoms that are clear of reefs and rocks. The only thing about that head being found in the trawl is that it was found in the trawl when the bottom bar of the net is higher than the ground on which it is dragged.”
“Then, how do you account for it?”
“Well, it’s like this here. It seems to me that after Mr Ericson was shot he was tossed overboard, or his body fell overboard after he was shot. There was a shark or two about and they fought over the body, tearing it to pieces, you understand. They missed the head what sinks while they’re fighting over other bits, and the head comes to rest on thick seaweed a few feet above bottom.”
“It wouldn’t be feasible to send a diver down in the locality where the head was found-to search for, let us say, theDo-me?”
“No. Because they don’t know where the head entered the trawl. They only know where the trawl was brought up. That trawl was down one hour and thirty minutes, and it had travelled over the sea bottom four or five miles along a zigzag course.”
Bony rose to his feet.
“Well, gentlemen, the night is ageing and we all have to go to sea early in the morning. Permit me again to thank you, and to make a final request. That is, that you will continue to think of me as a cattleman from the Northern Territory, and not to disclose my profession. Good night!”
Left alone with Constable Telfer, Bony wrote on a sheet of blank paper. Then, regarding the constable intently, said:
“Get this message off to Headquarters first thing tomorrow. We must know if the officers of theOrcades saw any small craft far off land that day the liner passed up this coast. One of them may have remembered seeing such a craft. No note of it will be in the log, but yet one may remember.”
“That’ll be done, sir. Why did you ask about Rockaway’sDolfin?”
“Because the captain of the trawlerA. S. 1has reported seeing her early that morning, and I think it important to have noted, on the key plan I will be preparing, every craft at sea that day.”