“Yes, I know.”
“You don’t seem to think that’s what happened.”
“It appears obvious of course.”
“You’re worried. You mustn’t let all this upset you, Mrs. Madden. I get quite concerned about you.”
“You’re always so kind and helpful, Mrs. Laud. You have been ever since I came out here.”
“Well, why not? And you the mistress of the house. I think you should put all this out of your mind. That would be the best way.”
“I can’t. Did you know that some people have an idea that the murder has something to do with the Green Flash?”
“Whoever thought that?”
“There’s talk in the town.”
“But what could Mr. Bannock’s death possibly have to do with the Green Flash? It’s missing, isn’t it? Mr. Henniker put it somewhere and it’s been stolen.”
“That’s the point—and perhaps we ought to do something about finding it.”
“How, Mrs. Madden?”
“Make every effort. The Green Flash was stolen from this house. We should find out how and when it was taken. Mr. Madden’s against it. He doesn’t want inquiries about the Green Flash and old legends revived. He doesn’t want people to think that opals are unlucky, which they always do when the Green Flash is talked of.”
“He’s right. Jimson says that sort of talk is bad for business.”
“We needn’t stress whether it’s lucky or unlucky. What I want is to find out the truth. I must know what’s happened to it.”
“What will you do, Mrs. Madden?”
“I’m not quite sure, but I’m going to start ferreting around.”
“By yourself?”
“If I can get help, I will. You might be able to help, Mrs. Laud.”
“You can be sure I’ll do all I can.”
“You know who came to the house.”
“Well, you saw at the Treasure Hunt—there are hundreds of them. People are in and out of Peacocks all the time.”
“The fact remains, Mrs. Laud, that someone came into this house, found the hiding place, and took the Green Flash.”
“You really think it could have been Mr. Bannock!”
“I find it hard to believe that of him. I liked him very much, although I had known him such a short time. He seemed such a happy man. It doesn’t seem possible that he could have anything on his conscience.”
“Yes, that’s very hard to believe. So you’re going to start making inquiries.”
“Discreetly, not openly—because Mr. Madden doesn’t want it.”
“No, I see he wouldn’t…” She stopped suddenly as though she had said more than she had intended to.
“Why?” I asked sharply.
“He…er…wouldn’t want inquiries…” She looked a little distressed.
“It’s because of this talk about opals being unlucky,” I said firmly.
“Oh yes, of course. That’s the sole reason. That’s what I meant, of course.”
She was protesting too much. I thought I understood what was in her mind. She knew of Joss’s infatuation for Isa. Isa was like one of those princesses in the fairy tales of my youth. “To win my favors you must bring me the…” and then would follow the seemingly impossible task which the prince always accomplished in the end.
It was becoming obvious. She loved opals. “I want my collection to be the finest in the world…” How could it be, if it lacked the peer of them all? “You must find it for me, bring it to me and then…my hand in marriage…” Wasn’t that how it went in the fairy tales?
But they had not been free for marriage. Isa was free now though. Joss wasn’t…not yet.
“You’re shivering suddenly,” said Mrs. Laud. “Are you cold?”
“It’s nothing…someone walking over my grave, as they say at Home.”
She smiled at me strangely, enigmatically. I asked myself then: Are we thinking the same thing?
The Spinet Player
A few days later I made an alarming discovery.
During the last weeks the house had seemed to oppress me. I had the uncanny feeling that there was something there from which I must escape. I thought a great deal about Ben because his personality was stamped on Peacocks. Lately, I suppose because I was in a rather nervous state, I had fancied I sensed his presence there. I believed that if there had been a close bond between people it did not necessarily end with death. He was after all the only person who had really loved me. For a short while I had been happy in that love, and when he died I realized how alone and desolate I was. I suppose everyone longs to be loved, and those who do so most are those who have missed the good fortune of enjoying that which I have come to believe is the most desirable thing in life. My childhood had been loveless. I was an encumbrance from the first. My own mother had found life intolerable and had left me. I could not say that my childhood had been unhappy because it was not in my nature to be unhappy, and in those days I had not missed what I had never known. In fact, it was having been loved and cherished by Ben that had taught me what I had missed.
Perhaps that was why I felt this special bond between us, and I fancied that his spirit was in the house warning me in some way because I was in danger. Everything had certainly not turned out as he had planned it should. He had bound Joss and me together, but such interference in the lives of other people could be dangerous. Had he really known how far Joss would go to get what he wanted? Had he ever thought that I might be the wife who was in the way of a ruthless man and because of this I could be in a situation of acute peril?
Who was it who crept up to my room at night and would on the last occasion have come in if the door had been unlocked? Why? For what purpose? Was it Joss? I believed it was. Had he come to plead with me to let us begin a new life together? No, he was too proud for that. He had always said he would not force himself on me. Then why? And what did it mean?
Was I right in thinking that there was some element in the house which was trying to warn me?
So when I came in and found Peacocks quiet, I often had the desire to get out of it. Sometimes I sat in the pond garden, but more often I chose the peace of the orchard. There among the lemon and orange trees I could relax and think about my day at the offices and what I had learned. I would then admonish myself for my foolish fancies, and there among the oranges, lemons, and guavas I felt a return to common sense.
I had brought several books from the offices and these were teaching me a great deal of opal lore. I liked to take one of them to the orchard, find a shady spot, and sit and read, as I did so memorizing facts with which I loved to startle people, in particular Joss. I could see that he was impressed, though he never said so, but there would be a certain lifting of the corners of his mouth and twinkle in his eyes. I found this very gratifying because I knew that I was arousing his grudging admiration.
It was there in the orchard that I made the discovery.
The grass was coarse and where the earth showed through it was brown and cracked. I suppose that was why the spot which had been dug up recently was noticeable.
Looking up from my book, my eyes went straight to it, and I saw at once that the earth had been turned over and that something looked as though it was protruding. I studied it for a few seconds without moving. The sun caught it and it glittered like gold.
I went over. It was gold. As I pulled it out I was limp with horror, for what I had found was a red leather purse with a gold band, and I knew at once that it had belonged to Ezra Bannock, and that he had carried it with him when he was shot at Grover’s Gully.
Who had buried it in the orchard at Peacocks?
I could no longer stay in the orchard. I went to my room in a haze of horror and indecision.
***
I could not make up my mind what to do. The theory that a bushranger had shot Ezra was false. What bushranger would come
to Peacocks and steal into the orchard in order to bury the purse there?
There seemed to be one answer to the mystery. Someone at Peacocks had killed Ezra Bannock and taken his purse to make it look like robbery and then buried the purse in the orchard.
There was only one I knew who had a motive.
With Ezra out of the way, Isa was free. But Joss was not. He was married to me, and while I lived he was not free. While I lived…
That was the thought that kept recurring. It was becoming like a nightmare.
I took out the purse and examined it. “He had a red leather purse full of sovereigns. He used to fill it up every morning…” Isa had said something like that.
What was it that Joss had aroused in me? Was it love? I wanted to protect him, whatever he had done. I wanted to go to him and say: “I have found Ezra’s purse. You hid it in the orchard…not very cleverly. The ground was so parched it was obvious. We must get rid of it…”
But why should he bury the purse in the orchard? Why had he not got rid of it somewhere in the Bush? It seemed like a panic-stricken action. Strangely enough I could believe he might be a murderer, but not that he would ever suffer panic.
He would say to me: “So you believe that of me. Why don’t you betray me? Why involve yourself?”
“Because I’m a fool,” I would say. “I have the same feeling for you as you have for Isa Bannock. Perhaps now you understand.”
But I would say nothing of the sort. I did not know what to do, and being in doubt, I put the purse into a drawer and then was afraid that it might be discovered. It was the perfect clue which would lead to the murderer.
I must tell him. He would lie. He would say he hadn’t put it there. But who else, Joss? Who else?
I spent a sleepless night and twice rose to look at the purse in the drawer to assure myself that it was there and I hadn’t dreamed the whole thing.
The next day Joss had left when I went down and I rode into the town with Jimson. We talked as we rode, but I don’t remember what about. I could think of nothing but that red purse with the pieces of orchard earth staining it.
As soon as I returned to Peacocks I went straight up to my room and as I entered I knew that something had changed. One of the drawers was not properly shut and instinct told me that someone had been there looking for something. I went immediately to the drawer in which I had put the red purse. It was not there.
I sat down in a chair and thought of what this meant. Whoever had killed Ezra now knew that I had discovered the purse and taken it from its hiding place.
***
It was difficult to appear normal. I tried to think what would be the best line of action. I told myself that as soon as I saw Joss I should know, because even he must be shaken by what had happened.
I went to the window and stood there looking out across the grounds to the arid Bush. I could just make out the calico tents on the fringe of the town. As I stood there, I saw Mrs. Laud drive in with the buggy. She often took it down to the town and brought back provisions which were carried into the house by the servants. She looked up and saw me, lifting her hand in acknowledgment.
I went to the hall. I felt an urgent need to get back to normality.
“It’s very hot, isn’t it?” I said.
“My goodness, yes.”
“You should have taken Lilias with you.”
“I think she sees a little too much of Jeremy Dickson.”
“He’s a very pleasant young man. Why don’t you like him, Mrs. Laud?”
She didn’t answer but pressed her lips tightly together.
“You must be worn out,” I went on. “Why don’t you have a cup of tea.”
“I thought I’d go to my room and make one. Would you care to join me, Mrs. Madden?”
“Why yes, I’d like to.”
We climbed to her room and she put the kettle on the spirit lamp. It was a very cozy little room with a bunch of dried leaves in a pot in the fireplace and on the polished table a runner of red plush. The chairs had tapestry seats, and I was sure she had made them herself. In the corner was a whatnot on which were displayed miniature pieces of china, and there was a cuckoo clock on the wall.
She watched my gaze. “I brought these things out from England, and when I came here Mr. Henniker let me furnish my own room. I appreciated that.”
“That must have made it seem very homey.”
She made the tea. She seemed upset about something and I determined to find out what. It took my mind off that other terrifying matter.
“I hope this is to your taste, Mrs. Madden. Tea doesn’t taste right here to me. Not like Home. They say it’s the water.”
“You were going to tell me about Mr. Dickson,” I prompted.
She looked at me in a startled fashion. “Was I?”
“You…er…don’t like this friendship between him and Lilias?”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.”
“How far would you go?”
“I’m being silly, I suppose. I wouldn’t want her to make a mistake. I suppose mothers do feel like that about their daughters.”
“Has he done anything to upset you?”
“Oh no…not him.”
“Someone else…then?”
She looked at me in a worried way, and she reminded me of an animal caught in a trap.
“I have been in this house so long,” she said, which seemed to me straying from the point. “There I was at my wit’s end…”
“I know, and Mr. Henniker offered you the post.”
“I brought my children up here. I was treated…as though I belonged.”
“Mr. Henniker was a wonderfully kind man.”
“I couldn’t bear anything to go wrong in this house. I just don’t like what’s being said.”
“What was that?” I asked sharply.
She looked at me blankly then she said: “When you think back it’s hard to put your finger on it. It’s implication…or something like that.”
“Who implied what?”
She looked over her shoulder as though she were seeking some way of escape.
“You’re the last one I should be saying this to.”
“Why? Does it concern me?”
“It’s a lot of lies…plain lies…”
“Now, Mrs. Laud, you have said too much to stop. Someone’s been telling lies about me, have they?”
“Oh no, not about you, Mrs. Madden. Everybody’s sorry for you.”
“Why are they sorry for me?”
“They say it’s a pity Mr. Henniker made that will. They say it’s forced things. Mrs. Bannock’s not liked in the town. She’s not liked at all. Oh, Mr. Madden would be angry if he knew. I really mustn’t say any more. He’d turn me out. Perhaps I deserve it for talking to you like this.”
“I want to know what they’re saying.”
“If I tell you, will you promise to say nothing to him?”
“To my husband, you mean?”
“Yes, please don’t tell him that I talked to you like this. He’d be so angry…heaven knows where it would end. It’s only talk, that’s all, but it upsets me. I told them it was a lot of lies…but that doesn’t stop them. They wouldn’t say anything to you, of course. You’re the last one they’d talk to.”
“Mrs. Laud, I want to know what this is all about.”
“It’s not exactly what was said. It’s the looks…the nods…and…”
“Implications,” I said. “What was it?”
The words came out in a rush. “They said they’d always known how it was between them. Ezra put up with it for a long time because of his position in the Company. Then he wouldn’t have it…and that’s why he died.”
“No!” I cried fiercely, forgetting that it was exactly what I had thought myself. “It’s impossible.”
“They say she has the Green Flash, that he took it from its hiding place and gave it to her.”
“I never heard such nonsense,” I cried firmly.
“No more did I, but it upsets me…and you just caught me at a bad moment.”
“I’m glad you told me, Mrs. Laud. But let’s forget it, shall we?”
She hesitated. “Well, I don’t believe it, of course, but I think…well, I just think you ought to be on your guard…”
I stared at her and she bit her lip in embarrassment and went stammering on: “…on your guard against gossip.”
“Cuckoo, cuckoo,” said the clock on the wall, and went on repeating his silly cry to denote the hour.
***
When I went into the town, I imagined people watched me furtively. They were sorry for me, asking themselves how much I knew. In a place like this everyone knew everyone else’s business. The notices asking for information about Ezra’s murder looked out at me from every post.
It was an uneasy town. The cozy theory was that Ezra had been shot by a bushranger who was now miles away, the only other alternative being that we had a murderer in our midst. Murderers had to have motives. I knew that the murderer was someone who came to Peacocks and was such a frequent visitor that no one would notice when he went into the orchard to bury a purse.
When I went into the offices, Jeremy was waiting for me. He wanted to show me the finished product of that opal I had had such a feeling about.
“You can be proud to have your judgment proved correct,” he told me.
“Does it really mean I’m learning or was it just good luck?”
“It was pure hunch, and that’s what we all wait for.”
He said he would make tea, and as he did so I felt a great urge to talk to him about my discovery and my fears, for it occurred to me that he was one of the few people I could talk to; but I knew that would be unwise.
I brought the subject around to the Green Flash.
“Have you heard the rumor that Ezra stole it and died as a result?” I asked.
“I never take any notice of rumors like that.”
“I suppose there’s just a possibility that it might be true.”