Authors: Deborah Challinor
The gangplank was still down and Israel ran up it, pleased to see that Daniel was still on board. Charlie Dunlop was back, too. No one was talking, but that, even Israel knew, was because they were all too busy running around doing the sorts of things sailors did
before they sailed. There was a bump and then quite a violent lurch as the tug pulled away from the schooner and the slack between the two was taken up, and Daniel shouted to Israel to pull up the gangplank.
He stooped and grabbed the end of it, then something made him look up, and freeze. A hundred yards away, near the land end of the wharf, was a line of scruffy, nefarious-looking Chinkees, and they were trotting straight towards the
Katipo
! Even worse, he could see the one they called So-Yee! He let out a squeak of terror, dropped the gangplank and darted across the deck into the safety of the cabin.
‘
He
didn’t last long,’ Charlie remarked to himself.
But Kitty, who was fifteen feet up the mainmast, had spotted the group and climbed down as the first of their number stepped onto the gangplank. Mystified, she crossed the deck, then relaxed as she recognised the figure leading the party, although in a black cotton shirt tucked into worn, knee-length trousers he looked notably less dapper than usual. Gone also was his smart hat, and his feet were bare, but his spectacles remained firmly in place.
Without preliminary, he said, ‘How many hands do you have at your disposal?’
Kitty, feeling protective of her people, but also deeply apprehensive regarding what they were about to attempt, replied stiffly, ‘Me, Mr Royce who is normally a crewman, Mr Cooper who, as you can see, has the use of only one arm but is a very experienced sailor, and a boy whom I must admit is not entirely accustomed to the sea.’
Mr Chen made a
pffft
noise. ‘Do not be silly, Mrs Farrell. You cannot sail a schooner with only one real sailor. Wong Kai has sent us to assist you.’
The
Katipo
lurched again and swung around into the Yarra’s current. The gangplank tipped up of its own accord and slid onto the deck with a clatter. Daniel closed the hatch and stowed the gangplank, hoping Kitty hadn’t seen the look of relief on his face. He’d never met
this Wong Kai, but he was deeply grateful to him for sending seven of his men to help sail the schooner. Between them, he and Kitty and Charlie Dunlop might—
might
—have got away with sailing out into Port Phillip Bay, with the perfect intensity of wind to drive them and nothing amiss with the new gear, but as all sailors knew, there was no such thing as wind with perfect intensity and gear always broke, whether it was brand-new or not. But for him to have suggested to Kitty that they travel to Geelong by horse or coach instead would possibly have earned him another slap across the face, or, far worse, the misery of having to watch her reduced to weeping yet again. And he didn’t think he could bear that.
The tug cast loose once the
Katipo
had moved into the deeper waters of the bay, tooted once, turned in an arc and headed back up the river.
The sun, well above the horizon now, was almost behind them, and the wind, in spite of Daniel’s pessimism, rose to a sharp northerly that filled the new sails until they snapped and cracked. The comforting roll of the deck beneath her feet delighted Kitty, lifting her heart and replenishing her spirit. At this rate they would be dropping anchor in Corio Bay in a little over three hours.
Mr Chen’s people—including So-Yee, who had greeted Kitty with his usual charmless nod—were swarming all over the schooner, sailing her as though they had been born to the sea. This had intrigued Kitty, and when she’d asked Mr Chen where these mariners’ skills had come from, he had explained that the region in Kwangtung Province from which they hailed was not far from the coast, and that they were as accomplished at raising a sail as they were using a hoe or guiding a plough across ground ripe for breaking.
Charlie was at the helm having the time of his life, Israel had been coaxed out of the cabin, and he and Daniel were tying down ropes as sails were unfurled to their fullest extent. The wind had picked up
from sharp to almost brutal, and the
Katipo
was approaching her top, and legendary, speed of twelve knots.
Kitty took a few moments to lean on the ship’s rail and watch the waves skim past below. Then she lifted her gaze to the bright shoreline little more than a mile away, the force of the wind coaxing involuntary tears from her eyes. Very soon, she would finally be with Rian again. She felt elated beyond words that he was alive, and sick to her stomach with fear that by the time she reached him he might not be, or that it would all go horribly wrong and they would perish in their attempts to rescue him. Daniel had insisted she was not, under any circumstances, to go into the place where Rian was being kept prisoner, but she had made her views on that subject very clear. He’d glowered, but she knew he hadn’t the power to stop her, except perhaps by physical force, which she strongly suspected he might use if necessary. So she had glowered back at him, then Mr Chen had intervened, suggesting that as both himself and Mr Royce were armed with pistols, they should all three go, as no doubt the captain would want to see Kitty as soon as possible. And if he was as incapacitated as had been reported, they would all be needed to carry him out once he had been liberated.
Daniel had grumbled but agreed, and Kitty had also thought it was an excellent idea, especially as she, too, was armed: Rian’s pistol was tucked neatly out of sight in the back of her waistband beneath her jacket.
She felt desperately sorry for Daniel. She knew he must feel awful after those few short minutes of sweaty, grasping pleasure they’d shared in the cottage only four nights ago. She certainly did. She’d felt guilt and embarrassment and shame at her passionate abandonment, and yet she was grateful to him because he’d given her comfort. He was the only man apart from Rian who could ever have done that.
What must he be thinking now he knew Rian was alive? Rian was his good friend, and his boss. He must surely be feeling he had betrayed him. Will he tell Rian what he and I did? she wondered.
But what would
she
say to Rian? Because Daniel hadn’t committed the worst kind of betrayal—she had.
The
Katipo
changed course slightly as she followed the curve of the shoreline, turning more due west towards the narrow channel into Corio Bay. Her sails deflated a fraction as the wind was deflected by a promontory of land, and Charlie gave the signal for several to be lowered to half-mast, slowing the schooner and settling her hull a little deeper into the waves.
Four or five dozen ships were already anchored in the outer harbour, and perhaps several dozen more notably smaller vessels on the other side of the channel in Corio Bay itself.
‘Do you want to chance it?’ Charlie asked, coming to stand next to Kitty.
‘The channel? How deep is it? Will she do it?’
Charlie shrugged. ‘Wouldn’t put money on it. Only thirteen feet at high tide. Many a ship’s had her arse torn out, and the channel’s only been open a year.’
‘Then we’ll anchor out here,’ Kitty decided, turning away from the rail.
The
Katipo
weighed anchor and the ship’s boat was lowered. Kitty, Daniel, Mr Chen and two of the Chinese sailors climbed down the rope ladder and seated themselves at the oars. A second later So-Yee followed, landing lightly in the boat.
Mr Chen looked at him, and said something in Chinese.
So-Yee replied in kind, sat down and took the last oar.
Mr Chen spoke again, this time much more sharply.
Daniel and Kitty exchanged a mystified glance. The two Chinese sailors stared at the shoreline, apparently deaf.
Very quietly, So-Yee uttered a few further short words. Mr Chen bowed his head in reluctant acquiescence, but his mouth settled in a
compressed line and the knuckles wrapped around his oar were white.
They pushed off and were soon over the sand bar and pulling towards the shore, Kitty with the drawing of Rian’s prison safely folded in the pocket of her shirt. Israel, who had begged to be allowed to come ashore, had been left behind to hang over the
Katipo
’s rail, waving forlornly, Charlie at his side.
There were plenty of people about, unloading cargo brought through the channel via the smaller vessels and by barge across the bar. Wharves reached seaward above the lapping waves and the town’s buildings encroached almost as far as the beach. There was no major river in Geelong running to the sea to provide a dumping ground for effluent, but the town still stank in the summer heat. It was almost, in fact, a replica of Melbourne with its wide, dusty streets and pockets of grand architecture next to rows of wooden buildings hastily thrown up to service hopeful miners arriving from the four corners of the world.
They reached the beach and hauled the boat up onto the sand.
‘Do you know what you’re looking for?’ Daniel asked, pulling his hat low over his forehead to reduce the sun’s glare.
Kitty handed him the map, tattered now at the edges.
‘Someone must have really been in debt to this Wong fellow,’ Daniel remarked, then squinted down the beach. They should almost be able to see the place from here.
They trudged across the sand and up onto the street that ran parallel to the beach until they came to the building depicted in the drawing. It looked abandoned, and the back of it extended out over the water on wooden poles encrusted with barnacles, just visible below the green-stained high-water line. A jutting lattice of crooked poles and splintered planks suggested that there had once been a short jetty there, but that it had been torn down or had decayed beyond repair.
Deeper than it was wide, the building was two storeys high and bereft of paint, there were weatherboards missing, all the windows
had been boarded over, and the single narrow door visible from the road looked barely wide enough to squeeze through. The waves beneath the rear of the building lapped against the pilings, sending up tiny plumes of spray and the smell of invisible sea creatures dying in the shade.
Kitty’s heart sank: surely no one would keep a wounded man prisoner in such a ruin? But, yes, one man would, and she knew it.
She approached the door and pushed on it, stifling a gasp as it creaked open an inch or two. ‘It’s not even locked!’ she whispered to Daniel.
‘Could he know we’re coming?’ Daniel knew better than many what sort of man they were dealing with, and he wouldn’t put it past him to have prepared a particularly unpleasant welcome.
Kitty beckoned So-Yee. ‘Mr Wong’s informant: is there a chance he could have double-crossed him?’
So-Yee gave her a look that could have frozen water at the Equator. ‘No. It is common knowledge that Wong Kai does not tolerate turncoats.’
Daniel pushed the door all the way open. The small foyer inside was bare, except for a narrow, straight staircase directly ahead. Leading off the foyer in both directions was a mean hallway, its ceiling sagging and its floor holed, revealing shadowed views of the sand below. Daniel unholstered his pistol and crept along the hallway to the left, followed it around behind the staircase, peering into each dank, smelly room he came to, then reappeared again having gone full circle.
He shook his head and whispered, ‘Nothing.’
Above them, something made a faint creaking sound.
Convinced that the pounding of her heart must surely be audible above the whisper of the waves beneath the building, Kitty began to inch up the stairs, then was jerked indelicately backwards as Daniel clamped a hand on her shoulder.
‘
I
will go first!’ he hissed directly into her ear. ‘You stay right at the back, do you hear?’
She glared at him, but stayed where she was until Mr Chen and So-Yee had squeezed past her.
At the top of the stairs a wall barred their way; it seemed to completely intersect the top floor. Behind them, a small landing appeared to lead onto a series of small rooms, but all that stood in front of them was the wall. There was, however, a door in the wall, and the door was closed.
Pushing her way to the front, and feeling Daniel grab a good handful of her jacket as she went past, Kitty carefully put her ear against the door and listened. And as she did, she felt her fists involuntarily clench. A moment later she abruptly pulled away.
Daniel raised his eyebrows.
Through clenched teeth she mouthed, ‘A man. And a woman.’
He frowned, both at the very unlikely prospect of a woman being in there, and at the thunderous expression on Kitty’s face.
Her features suddenly softened. ‘Daniel?’ she whispered, her fingers as light as a butterfly’s wing on his cheek.
He loosened his grip on her jacket and leant closer to hear her better, and just like that she was gone.
K
itty burst through the door. The room before her was neither large nor small. The windows on either side were boarded over, and the one at the far end of the room, through which a view of Corio Bay could be glimpsed, was part-shuttered and part-glazed, its dirty glass cracked but letting in enough light to illuminate the tableau within. Something smelled bad.
Lily Pearce stood with her back to the window, a glass halfway to her mouth, which was open in an ‘o’ of shock.
To one side, a man sat at a table facing away from Kitty. His coarse, grey hair hung loose to his shoulder blades. It had been groomed until it gleamed, and he wore no hat. His light summer coat and trousers were of a good cut, and his boots shone with recently applied polish. He laid aside the pen with which he had been writing in a journal, picked up a pipe propped next to a burning oil lamp, and, in a leisurely fashion, turned to face her.
‘Miss Carlisle,’ he said in the cultured, gravelly voice Kitty recalled
so clearly, and which still made the hairs on her neck prickle nastily. ‘Or I should say Mrs Farrell, now, shouldn’t I? How wonderful to see you.’ He appeared perfectly composed, but his voice bore a trace of surprise and annoyance.
Avery Bannerman had not aged well—he was probably approaching sixty by now, Kitty guessed—but year upon year as an inmate in Hyde Park Barracks did that to a man. His bloodhound features had sagged even further, the hoods over his eyes sunk deeper, and his jowls were now pendulous. His full lips, however, had retained their somehow shocking sensuality, and his watery blue eyes were as sharply intelligent as ever. He smiled at her with his big, tobacco-stained teeth.
Kitty felt Daniel and the others move cautiously into the room behind her. A quick glance told her that they had not yet drawn their weapons.
‘Aha!’ Bannerman exclaimed. ‘Sergeant Royce! So that’s where you disappeared to! We all wondered, you know. Especially after that Kinghazel business.’
Kitty ignored his outburst. ‘I understand you have my husband.’
‘I do, indeed,’ Bannerman said, and waved his pipe at a filthy heap of bedclothes in the far corner of the room.
Kitty walked, then ran across to the dishevelled pile, and fell on her knees. Rian was lying flat on his back, so insubstantial among the tangle of old blankets that she hadn’t even seen him. His eyes were closed, and beads of sweat had collected on his brow and upper lip. He had a beard and he stank, and he seemed to be unconscious. But he was breathing.
She bent close to his ear and whispered his name, but there was nothing. So she shook him, hard; this time he moaned faintly, but she saw no sign that he recognised her, or even that he was awake.
‘You’ll have to do more than that if you want some sort of a response, Kitty, my love!’ Bannerman called jovially from across
the room. ‘Try pulling his trousers down!’ And he laughed.
Bannerman loved riddles, Kitty knew—he wasn’t
just
a dirty old bastard—so she lifted a blanket off Rian’s legs, and recoiled in horror and revulsion.
His right thigh was a reeking, festering mass from a point three inches below his groin to his knee, crawling with maggots and oozing pus and watery blood. She gagged, swallowed, gagged again, and closed her eyes and waited until her gorge had subsided.
‘Daniel?’ she called weakly.
Not taking his eyes off Bannerman or Lily, Daniel crossed the room. ‘Christ almighty,’ he said quietly, feeling the red heat of rage start to burn in his belly.
Slowly, Kitty pushed herself to her feet, trying very hard not to cry. She walked away from Rian, Daniel at her shoulder.
Dully, she said to Bannerman, ‘What do you want?’
Lily Pearce interrupted, her voice strident. ‘Just a minute. How did you know where to find us? Who squealed, Avery? What are you going to do about it?’
‘Yes, that’s a point, isn’t it?’ Bannerman mused.
So-Yee, standing near the door, said in a tone so sanctimonious that Kitty flinched, ‘Who squealed? Mr Bannerman, you sell goods on the black market, you are a money-lender, you are a dishonest landlord, you launder money and you finance houses of ill repute. You must surely be a man with
many
enemies.’
Kitty looked at Lily. Was that the connection? Had Avery Banner-man paid for her whorehouse in Ballarat, and now she owed him a debt?
And at that, Kitty’s vision, just for a second, became disconcertingly bright and sparkly with shock as the realisation hit her like a blow to the head.
Rian
owed Bannerman a debt! If Bannerman hadn’t provided Rian with forged documents, Rian would have been hanged in Sydney in
1840—and the debt had never been paid!
‘Very good, Kitty!’ Bannerman said delightedly, watching her face. ‘I knew you’d work it out in the end.’
‘But what about the traitor, Avery!’ Lily whined.
‘Oh, shut up, Lily. I know who the traitor is,’ Bannerman replied, allowing his gaze to wander casually about the room until it settled deliberately on one particular person. ‘Don’t I?’
Kitty flicked an appalled glance at Mr Chen. His expression remained inscrutable, but a slight clenching of his fists at his sides gave away his mortification.
Mr Chen’s lips barely moved. ‘I had expected you would accord me anonymity, Mr Bannerman, and a little honour.’
‘Oh, dearie me, no, Mr Chen, there’s no honour among thieves.’ Bannerman gave another of his oily laughs. ‘You should know that.’
So-Yee stepped forward, flicked his wrist and a flash of brightness tumbled through the air. Mr Chen’s eyes widened, he made a little burping sound, then slumped forward onto his knees where he remained for several seconds. Then he collapsed onto his side and lay gasping quietly like a recently landed fish, as a small pool of blood spread beneath him. After half a minute, he stopped breathing altogether.
So-Yee retrieved his knife, wiped the blade clean on Mr Chen’s shirt and resheathed it in his belt.
‘Well then!’ Bannerman exclaimed gaily, as though they’d all been treated to a particularly good parlour trick but now it was time to get down to business. ‘Your husband, Mrs Farrell, owes me a debt, and as payment I want his claim at Ballarat. I was told by reliable sources,’ he said, pointing at Mr Chen’s body, ‘who sadly couldn’t pay their gambling debts and had to trade useful information in lieu, that it’s paying extremely well. At first, to be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure how I was going to convince your husband to sign his claim over to me, but what a godsend that flash flood turned out to be! Then he got
sick and now he
can’t
. But you can. Really, it’s a good thing you
have
come along, isn’t it?’
Kitty eyed him and thought, You can have the damned claim. But she didn’t trust Bannerman at all. ‘No. I want Rian taken out of here first.
If
he survives, I’ll make sure he signs the claim over to you.’
Bannerman shook his head. ‘Oh, no, no, no. I’m afraid you’ve misheard. I said I want you to sign it over now.’
‘I don’t have the authority, not while Rian is still alive.’
Bannerman’s sleekly groomed eyebrows went up. ‘Really? All right, I’ll kill him.’
He withdrew a pistol from inside his coat, cocked it and aimed at Rian.
Daniel started to move and by the time Bannerman pulled the trigger, Daniel was between Rian and the pistol. The bullet hit him in the side and he crumpled, sliding across the floorboards into the pile of bedding, shunting the whole lot against the wall.
Kitty drew her own pistol and fired it at Bannerman. To her surprise, her shot hit him in the left temple. He leaned back in his chair, a bemused look on his face, then very slowly his head tipped farther and farther back until he was gazing directly at the ceiling. His hand opened, his pistol clattered to the floor, and his bladder let go.
At the instant that Kitty fired at Bannerman, Lily whipped a small handgun out of her skirt pocket, but before she could even cock it, So-Yee threw his knife. It went through her forearm, the tip of the blade protruding from one side and the handle from the other: staring at it goggle-eyed, she was so mesmerised with shock that she didn’t even notice Bannerman was dead.
So-Yee ran past Kitty, crouched and pressed his fingers against Daniel’s neck.
‘He is breathing. Help me.’
Kitty, her heart thudding behind her ribs and her bowels feeling
alarmingly watery, took hold of Daniel’s boots and hauled him, weakly coughing blood, onto Rian’s blanket. She and So-Yee took an end each and began to drag the two men towards the door. They felt as though they weighed at least a ton, and the blanket kept catching on splinters in the floorboards, and by the time they got across the room she was weeping openly.
‘Stop it, girl,’ So-Yee said; and for once, Kitty noted, he didn’t sound bad-tempered.
There was a crash as behind them a chair fell over, then Lily’s voice, harsh with pain, rang out.
‘Stop, or I’ll shoot you!’
Both Kitty and So-Yee froze.
Slowly, they turned.
Lily stood only yards away, her feet set apart for balance, the arm with the knife protruding from it held stiffly across her body, the hand holding the pistol resting on it and aimed directly at them. Fat, dark drops of blood splattered steadily onto the wooden floor. Her face was as white as flour.
‘Sign the claim over, Kitty. Sign it over to me.’
Kitty straightened, careful not to move too quickly. ‘No, you’ll just kill us if I do that.’
‘I’ll kill you if you don’t.’
‘My men know where we are, Lily.’
‘They do not. You would have said that to Avery.’
Kitty shot a glance at So-Yee, trying to ascertain whether he was carrying another knife. He understood, and with the merest narrowing of his eyes managed to convey to her that he was not. On the floor, Daniel groaned.
‘It won’t work,’ Kitty said. ‘What do you think our men will do if you return to Ballarat with a deed saying you now own Rian’s claim?’ She took an almost imperceptible step towards Lily.
‘Stay where you are!’ The pistol in Lily’s hand shook and her
fingers tightened around the grip. ‘I’ll dismiss them all. I’ll say that their precious captain has finally repaid his debt to Avery Bannerman, and that Avery Bannerman owed me a debt.’
‘You’re mad, Lily. They won’t believe you.’
Anger and pain twisted Lily’s face, and she moved her wounded arm so that it rested against her chest. ‘Why won’t they? Why shouldn’t they believe someone like me? They always listen to you, don’t they? I’m as good as you are. Why shouldn’t they believe me?’
Her voice rose higher and higher until she was almost shrieking. Spit flew from her paint-smeared mouth, and her wig had slipped so that strands of someone else’s hair stuck to her pale, sweating face.
Behind her Kitty could feel So-Yee tensing. She hoped he wasn’t about to leap at Lily because she could see that the hammer on the pistol was cocked. Her own gun was useless now, the chamber empty.
Suddenly, but without taking her eyes off Kitty, Lily bent, staggered slightly and righted the chair she had knocked over. She sat down in it heavily, resting her arms on the table. The tableau was surreal—Lily with the glint of metal protruding from her bloodied, swelling forearm, and the corpse of Avery Bannerman slumped next to her, ruined head back, mouth gaping open, urine-stained trousers already drying in the heat.
‘My arm hurts,’ Lily whined, and beneath the truculence Kitty heard a chilling whisper of rising madness. ‘I have to take the knife out.’
Before she’d even thought about it, Kitty cried, ‘No! You’ll bleed to death!’
Lily raised the pistol at Kitty again. ‘You’re lying.’ She looked at So-Yee. ‘Is she?’
‘Yes. Remove it,’ So-Yee said.
‘Bitch,’ Lily swore at Kitty.
She laid down the pistol, grasped the handle of the knife and
gave it an almighty tug. The blade stuck for a moment, then slid out, releasing a fountain of blood that splattered across Lily’s face and down the front of her fancy dress.
She cried out, leapt to her feet, staggered and collided with Bannerman’s chair. Bannerman’s head fell forward and knocked over the oil lamp, the contents of which spilled across the table top and onto the floor. The oil ran along the grooves in the floorboards and soaked into the hem of Lily’s skirts, then caught alight, turning her within seconds into a human lamp.
Kitty let go of the blanket and clapped her hands over her ears to drown out the terrible sound of Lily’s screams as she careened around the room, her clothes and wig alight and her skin bubbling and blackening.
Then So-Yee jerked her through the door and shouted at her to take hold of the blanket again.
Somehow, as smoke began to curl down the stairs and fill the building, they managed to get Daniel and Rian outside and onto the sand. The ship’s boat was waiting and it took less than a minute to settle both men in the bottom and push off into the outgoing tide.
Melbourne
Flora sat in the chair, her hands folded in her lap, and watched as Kitty packed the last of her things into her trunk.
‘And the claim? What have you done with that?’
‘I’ve sold it to Wong Kai, and Wong Fu is going to manage it,’ Kitty replied. ‘And all the gear and the livestock and the cottage. There’s probably a little more gold down there before it bottoms out.’ She stopped what she was doing and made a rueful little face. ‘I’m sorry, Flora. If I’d thought about it, I’d have offered it to you. But I just wanted to be rid of it.’
Flora nodded; she did understand. Her friend looked pallid and exhausted. The last few weeks had been a terrible ordeal for her, which was why she, Flora, had come to Melbourne with the
Katipo
crew when they’d heard from Wong Fu via a message from his brother about what had been going on. Haunui and Hawk had been preparing to come to Melbourne anyway, having regretted allowing Kitty to ride off in search of Rian with only Daniel as a sort of shadow chaperone. What must they both be feeling now? Flora wondered grimly, given the consequences.
‘I still don’t quite understand everything that happened leading up to this, Kitty.’