The Key Plan
THE FOLLOWING morning, instead of joining Emery at the breakfast-table at seven o’clock. Bony sent a message to Wilton saying that he would not be going out that day, and asking him to call on him at eleven.
From the hotel balcony he watched the majority of the Bermagui launches appear from beyond the promontory hiding the bar and the mouth of the river, pass across the inner bay, skirt the headland for bait-fish, and so set out to sea. He now knew them all by name, and he instantly noticed among them a strange craft. It was a sleek cruiser-type launch, some fifty feet in length and painted silver-grey.
“Do you know the name of that launch?” he called down to the yard-man who was sweeping in front of the building.
“That’s theDolfin,”came the reply. “She belongs to Mr Rockaway who lives down at Wapengo Inlet. She brought a swordie in this morning to be weighed.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes. A black marlin. Weighed two hundred and ninety-one pounds. Miss Rockaway caught him south of Tathra.”
Watching the tail end of the procession of launches, Bony felt keen-edged regret that theMarlin was not among them and he in its cockpit, for that drug which Emery had said was worse than alcohol was already his master.
He was in the lounge studying his sketch maps when Wilton arrived.
“They tell me that that smart launch which went out this morning was theDolfin?” he said, query in his soft voice.
“That’s so, Mr Bonaparte. Miss Rockaway landed a nice two-ninety-one-pounder. Black marlin. That’s her third fish this season. She’s pretty good at game fishing.”
Bony led the way outside to the sidewalk where he faced his launchman, and said smilingly:
“I thought we’d give Joe a spell today. There are a few matters I have to attend to, and I thought you might like to assist me.”
“Only too glad to.”
“Well then, I would like to meet Miss Spinks to whom you could give me an introduction. While I am talking to her you could engage the mother with small talk. Confide in her my profession.”
“All right.”
An expression of doubt touched the keen brown eyes regarding Bony, and Bony’s blue eyes became abruptly hard. Wilton recognized in them that indefinable something stamping all men who have made their mark on the world, several of whom had been “his” anglers.
“I shall not upset Miss Spinks by severe questioning and a too vulgar probing into her family relationships,” Bony said, slowly moving off along the street in the direction of Nott’s Tea Rooms. “I am not going to hold out any hope that Spinks is alive, although we have no proof that he is dead. If, however, he is alive and should one day return home, Miss Spinks might consider herself in a more favourable position to accept the suggestion of marriage, don’t you think?”
Glancing sideways at Wilton, Bony noted the expression of strain.
“I know, Jack, how matters are with you. In fact, I know about you more than you may think. My first impression of you is wearing very well, and had I not been born a detective-inspector I would have been a great match-maker.”
Marion Spinks turned from dusting the shelves and glass containers beyond the counter to welcome her prospective customers, and instantly the susceptible detective was charmed by her freshness and gipsy beauty. There was no guile, only a pleasing frankness in her dark eyes.
During the introduction, Bony noticed the flash of hostility in those expressive eyes, replaced almost instantly by friendliness. He bowed in his own inimitable way, and said:
“I thought, perhaps, that Jack could interview your mother, and himself bring me a pot of morning tea, while you and I enjoyed a little chat. I would like to prove to you that chatting with a detective can be enjoyable,” Bony spoke in his grand manner which, although probably overdone, never failed to charm. “There appear to be no customers requiring your attention just now. Shall we sit at one of these little tables?”
She nodded and, passing round the end of the counter, sat down opposite him. Wilton departed.
“I want you to understand, Miss Spinks,” Bony began, “that I do not believe your brother had anything to do with the killing of unfortunate Mr Ericson. Further, as theDo-me evidently was not a victim of the sea, I am inclined to the opinion that your brother was killed with Mr Ericson.”
“He’s still alive, Mr Bonaparte,” she said quietly, confidently.
“Do you know that for a fact or do you just feel it so?”
“I don’t know it and I don’t feel it.”
“Then-”
“I would have felt it had he died,” she proceeded earnestly. “Bill and I are twins. When he was caned at school I used to feel on my hand the cuts he got on his. If he got them on his right hand, then my right hand would sting and on it would appear a dull red mark. Father used to drink a lot, and one day he hit Bill with a billet of wood and knocked him unconscious. I was away picking blackberries when it happened, but I knew the instant Bill was hit. I could tell you about other things showing how close Bill and I are together. If Bill had been killed I’d have felt it. As it was, that afternoon theDo-me vanished I felt unsettled, and then, when mother and I were waiting at home before we went down to the jetty, I felt that Billwas wanting me badly.”
“Have you felt like that since?”
“Often,” she replied, nodding her black-crowned head. Then she clasped her hands tightly together on the table and she cried out as though made desperate by all the people who had refused to accept her belief.“Bill’s not dead, Mr Bonaparte. I know he’s not. I’d have known it if he was. And I know he had nothing to do with the shooting of Mr Ericson. He’s too fine to do anything like that.”
“And you are twins, I think you said?”
“Yes.”
Bony stared at her and she wondered why.
“Tell me, Miss Spinks, did you know beforehand that your brother and Mr Ericson intended to fish along Swordfish Reef?”
“Oh, yes. Bill told mother and me at supper the night before. It wasn’t finally decided then, but when mother took Bill’s and Robert Garroway’s lunch down to the jetty the next morning Bill and Mr Ericson had decided on Swordfish Reef.”
At this moment Wilton came with Bony’s morning tea which the girl set out on the table. To Wilton, Bony said:
“When did you know definitely that Bill Spinks and Mr Ericson were going out to Swordfish Reef?”
Wilton hesitated to reply.
“I don’t remember,” he admitted. “I’ll have to think back. Ah-yes, I know. It was when Joe andme rowed to the jetty from theMarlin at lunch-time. We stopped for a chin-wag to Martin Hooper and Fred Penny. Fred Penny was saying that Swordfish Reef was as good as anywhere off Montague Island for sharks, the argument coming about because theDo-me had gone out to Swordfish Reef that day.”
“Oh!” Bony sipped his tea. “It was then fairly general knowledge?”
“Yes. There was no secret about it, anyway.”
“Hum! Now you go back and talk to Mrs Spinks. Tell her that the tea is just how I like it.” To Marion, Bony said after Wilton had left them: “Your brother did not have any enemies?”
“No. Everyone liked Bill.”
“And you all three liked Mr Ericson?”
“Oh yes. He was a wonderful man. Bill said he was so kind and considerate. He even let Robert Garroway have his rod for half an hour catching tunny.”
“I understand that Robert Garroway boarded with you. How did you get along with him?”
“Very well. Robert was quiet and he was always polite to mother and me.”
“He wasn’t in love with you?”
For the first time the girl smiled. She shook her head.
“Then he was backward for his age, Miss Spinks,” Bony told her, softly chuckling. “How did Robert Garroway accept the idea of your brother working Mr Ericson’s prospective launch, and you and your mother going to live in Mr Ericson’s new house? That would have meant that Garroway would have had to seek another job and another home, wouldn’t it?”
“But that wouldn’t have happened, Mr Bonaparte. At least I don’t think so. Bill thought a lot of Robert Garroway. He was quick to do what he was told at the wheel, and he was always polite and obliging to anglers. It wasn’t settled, but Bill was going to ask Mr Ericson to let Robert be his mate on the new launch.”
“Then you can think of no reason whatever for Robert Garroway to have shot Mr Ericson?”
“Of course not.”
Bony then conducted the conversation into generalities. He learned that the business was thriving; that Mr Blade continued to act as a business adviser; that Mrs Spinks suffered only two delusions, and that Marion “rather liked” Jack Wilton.
Later that morning Bony interviewed the club secretary, and related to Blade the details of the conference at the police station the night before. He agreed to meet Bony on theMarlin at two o’clock that afternoon.
At one o’clock Bony received a long telegraphic message from the Chief Commissioner at Sydney.
At two o’clock he found Blade with Wilton in the cabin of theMarlin. He asked for a rough table to be erected. Wilton went one better by borrowing a collapsible one from theVida.
“I have brought my sketch maps, Mr Blade, and I want you to assist me in transporting all their details to one key plan showing the movement of all craft at sea the day theDo-me disappeared. We shall want your advice from time to time, Jack. By the way, did you have a picture taken of my swordfish hanging on the town triangle?”
“It was taken this morning,” replied Blade.
“Good! I shall want it to convince my wife and children that I caught that fish. Now to work. I have divided these maps into two classes. We will each reduce a set to one map, and finally we will reduce the two resultant maps to a grand final plan. Here are blank sketch maps showing only the coast for use in plotting details from all other maps.”
For an hour they worked carefully plotting the course of every launch out from Bermagui that fatal day. Times and positions were marked relative to each other, theOrcades, the trawler working south of Bunga Head, the several launches out from Narooma. From this the final map was drawn giving all details except the actual courses. In silence the three men studied the key plan.
Presently Bony murmured:
“What can we learn from this? It might contain clues I cannot see but which can clearly be seen by such a man as you, Jack. Look at it carefully. Search for any absurdity, any abnormality. But wait a moment. It will help us if we sub-divide this plan into three areas.”
With a coloured pencil he drew curved lines circumscribing his three areas. The one at the top, which included waters about Montague Island, he marked “North”. That one east of Bermagui he marked “Central”, and that one off Bunga Head south of Bermagui, and which included Wapengo Inlet, he marked “South”. The “South” area showed the position of theGladious with that of theOrcades and the trawler, A. S. 1. In the “Central” area were marked the position of theGladious, Edith andSnowy with that of theDo-me from the time that craft left port until last sighted by theGladious. In the “North” area the positions ofEdith andSnowy with each other and theOrcades were given. After consideration Bony removed the launches from Narooma because, none having been off shore more than two miles, he felt sure they were unimportant.
“Well, Mr Blade, what do you make of it?” he asked, when again they were silently studying the final drawing.
“Not much as yet. The plan is most enlightening, for we get a kind of aerial view of all craft at sea.”
“That is not quite correct, for we have yet to plot in the part-course of theDolfin. The trawler saw her first at seven-fifteen in the morning making south-eastward across her bow. She lost sight of theDolfin, still making to the south-east, at about eight o’clock. I will pencil in those details. You see, theDolfin emerges from Wapengo Inlet and heads straight to the southeast until lost sight of by the captain of the trawler.
“We appear to possess two premises from which to build two structures of theory,” he went on. “The first is that the owner of theDo-me, William Spinks, murdered his angler and his mate, or the mate murdered Spinks and the angler, and then steered the launch farther out to sea for the duration of that day, to return at night to the coast where he sank theDo-me in shallow water and reached land in the small boat. So far we need not trouble with motive, but we have to recognize the difficulty of disposing of the small boat. The second theory, which seems to contain probability, is that a craft unknown attacked those on theDo-me, murdered them all, and then sank the launch. Here again we are without a motive. But we will leave motives alone and concentrate on what could have happened to theDo-me.
“If we adopt the first theory, then Spinks or his mate when taking theDo-me out to sea for the remainder of the day would have had to hide from theOrcades for at least an hour and a half whilst that ship was passing up the coast. If we assume the second theory to be more probable, then the craft that accounted for theDo-me had to escape the attention of those on theOrcades, theGladious, and the trawler; and it would presume knowledge that Spinks and Ericson had decided to fish along Swordfish Reef. Well, then, what craft on our map, without being observed by the others, was able to dodge north or south and so come in from the east to Swordfish Reef and theDo-me?”
After a period of further study, Wilton said:
“TheGladious could have done that. Gladious could have seenA. S. 1in the distance; but it was hazy and being a small craft the trawler wouldn’t have seen her at half the distance.”
“And up here in the north area theEdith could have come south after theOrcades had passed her at twelve-forty,” Blade contributed.
“I think we can absolve theEdith,” decided Bony, “because Flandin on hisSnowy checked the course of theEdith, after Burns checked his course with theSnowy and either one would have noted error in the other’s map-plotting. Which leaves usGladious andDolfin. ”
“Yes, both could have reached theDo-me without being seen by those on the trawler-and, too, without being seen by anyone on theOrcades after twelve-thirty pm.”
“I agree with you, Jack,” Blade said, reluctantly. “Phew! For Remmings on hisGladious to have done that would mean that he had to make confederates of his mate and his two anglers who are professional men in Melbourne. As for Rockaway on hisDolfin, he would have had as confederates his crew of three men and his daughter if she went to sea that day. Hang it! Rockaway has been living at Wapengo Inlet for years, seven years. He built himself a fine house. He owns several cars and theDolfin. He built a comfortable jetty to take theDolfin. No, no, no! It couldn’t have beenGladious orDolfin.”
Once again silently they studied the plan. Now and then footsteps sounded on the decking of the jetty outside. Through the cabin entrance drifted the low murmur of human voices, the cry of sea birds, the eternal roar of surf. Then Bony said, softly, taking pleasures in throwing a bomb into the works of the plan:
“Do either of you know a launch about forty feet in length, steam driven, with a black funnel and no mast, and painted warship grey?”
Both his hearers stared at him, and then both answered in the negative. Bony smiled a little when he went on:
“I received a message today conveying the information that the officer of the watch on theOrcades when she passed up this coast, as well as the quartermaster at the wheel, remember seeing such a craft approximately due east of Bunga Head by fourteen miles. They remember seeing this craft because they passed it by only a couple of hundred yards. The two men on it waved to the passengers lining the ship’s rails. The time of passing this craft was about twenty minutes after twelve o’clock, and, you will see by our map, seventy-five minutes afterGladious last saw theDo-me still making to the east in the direction of that steam launch.”
Wilton whistled. Blade offered no comment.
“Never even heard of such a craft,” Wilton said. “Did theOrcades say which way she was making when they saw her?”
“She was making to the south.”
“She will have to be located,” Blade said.
“The police of Australia are now searching for her,” Bony stated. “I think it is too late now to discover her, because she will have been disguised. However, by no means do I think our work on this key plan wasted. The next step is to write history from the day that Ericson arrived at Bermagui to the day after theDo-me disappeared. I have made a copy of the weather records, and from your books, Mr Blade, other items can likely enough be obtained to go into the making of the history.”
The secretary’s grey eyes were shining when he said, eagerly:
“My books would give a great deal of information, because they concern fishing and items that will recall incidents from which other items of information can be built up. We could, I think, make the history of those days fairly comprehensive.”
“Good!” exclaimed the half-caste. “We’ll make it a personal history, as though it were a diary kept by the unfortunate Mr Ericson. From it might emerge alead. I am beginning to feel that the motive behind the destruction of theDo-me was the killing of Ericson, and that the motive for the murder of Ericson might be discovered in those twenty-nine days.”
Swiftly he gathered the plans together and placed them in the brief-case. It was five o’clock and the first of the launches was coming in over the bar.
“I want to go fishing tomorrow, Mr Blade. Could we devote a couple of hours to the History of the Twenty-nine Days, say after nine o’clock tonight?”
“Yes. Certainly.”
“You’re a brick. I will be at your office at nine. Jack, tomorrow we sail for the open sea and the big fish.”
Blade chuckled.
“It’s a great sport, isn’t it?” he said.
“Sport!”Bony echoed. “It’s a grand passion!”