Miles Off Course (15 page)

Rowland grabbed the lapel of Abercrombie’s jacket and dragged the terrified Englishman up with him.

Bodies crushed against them in the blackness.

“They’re here! There’s a murderer in here!” Abercrombie was near hysterical. Predictably, his declaration started a panic within the cave and soon they were nearly
deafened by a cacophony of distress and fear which bounced and echoed against the cavern walls. The shoving and jostling began in earnest as people scrambled to escape.

“Ed?”

“We’ve got her, Rowly.” Clyde’s voice.

“I can’t see a thing,” Rowland shouted in the general direction of the voice, his grip still firmly on Abercrombie’s lapel. An elbow caught him in the stomach as someone
pushed past. There was a crack. It was louder than the screams, the sound nearly physical in its impact. At first, it startled everyone into shocked silence and then the panic intensified.
Abercrombie pushed Rowland to the ground. There were many others there now.

Abercrombie started to pray. A few people joined him. Rowland might have shot the Englishman himself if he’d been armed.

A beam of light cut through the darkness. Then another. The caretaker had arrived with torches. “Calm down now, folks, there’s nothing to worry about. Just a bit of a problem with
the lights. No harm done. Now if you just follow me—careful now—there’s no need to push folks!”

R
owland used his hat to slap the grit of the cave floor off his suit. Abercrombie sat on the low stone wall trembling and mopping his brow with a
silk handkerchief. Rowland was too annoyed to speak to him.

Edna adjusted her hat back into place, but having been protected from the ground by Rowland’s body, she was otherwise unsoiled. “Well, that was a little alarming.”

“Do you think it was a gunshot?” Clyde asked, keeping his voice low in the wake of the recent panic.

Rowland shrugged. “Hard to tell. Maybe.”

“Of course it was!” Abercrombie exploded. “My life is in danger, I tell you!” He looked around. “They could still be here…”

Rowland sighed.

Everyone was out of the cave now, essentially unhurt. A few people reported seeing apparitions, but according to the caretaker that was not an unusual reaction to the complete darkness of the
caves. “The mind plays tricks when yer eyes ain’t no use.”

The crack, which may or may not have been a gunshot, was, however, not an hallucination—unless it was one shared by every person in the cave. A telephone call had been made from Caves
House through to the Kiandra courthouse for police assistance, but it was unlikely that any sort of constabulary would arrive soon.

Shocked visitors milled around the entrance while the caretaker assured them that there was nothing to worry about and that lighting would be restored to the caves as soon as possible.

Rowland’s attention was caught by a smartly dressed man who was speaking with the caretaker a short distance away. He strode towards them. “Babbington? Charlie Babbington?”

The man turned, his face creasing into recognition. “I say, Sinclair, fancy seeing you up here!”

Milton, Edna and Clyde left Abercrombie, still complaining, and joined Rowland who was shaking the hand of Charles Babbington.

Rowland introduced the various parties. “Charlie works at Dangars.”

Babbington looked a little pained. He lifted his nose and sniffed indignantly. “I have the pleasure of serving with Mr. Sinclair as a director on the Governing Board of Dangar, Gedye and
Company.”

“Yes… Of course. Sorry, old boy… I didn’t mean to suggest you actually worked.”

“Quite all right, Sinclair—a mere slip, I’m sure.”

“What brings you to the caves, Charlie?”

“My good lady’s from the area—a little place called Tumbarumba, no less!” Babbington laughed loudly, shaking his head as if the name of his wife’s hometown was
beyond belief. “I’m doing a bit of fishing while she visits her relatives.”

“You were in the cave then, when—”

“Yes, that was rather a spot of bother, wasn’t it? I’ve just been telling that caretaker chap about our new Listers. I daresay this sort of inconvenience could be avoided with
a proper diesel generator. I say, Sinclair, are you planning to attend the April meeting? I could take your apologies…”

“No need, Charlie. I’ll be back in Sydney by then.”

“Well if you find you’d like to stay on longer…” Babbington glanced fleetingly at Edna, “I’ll be at Caves House for a couple of weeks.”

Rowland cleared his throat. “Terribly decent of you, Charlie, I’ll bear that in mind.” He looked back at Abercrombie who was still sitting woebegone on the low stone wall.
“We’d better get Humphrey back to Caves House—he’s had a rather trying morning. Will you join us for luncheon, Charlie?”

“Thank you, Sinclair, but no.” Babbington flipped open his pocket watch and checked the time. “I have some business to attend to, I’m afraid.”

“Some other time then.” Rowland offered Babbington his hand and they took their leave.

“What’s worrying you, Rowly?” Edna whispered, having noted the slight furrow of his brow as they walked back to Caves House.

He smiled as she hooked her arm through his. “Nothing really. Just never known Charlie to be so easygoing about my attendance at board meetings. It’s rather strange—he’s
a bit of a scorekeeper generally.”

Milton nudged him. “Perhaps he’s doing a bit more than fishing himself.”

Rowland smiled. “I wouldn’t have thought it of Charlie. He’s somewhat inhibited.”

Milton shook his head. “Nope, he’s up to no good, he’s trying to get you on side by getting you out of a board meeting.”

Clyde grinned. “He’s worked Rowly out then.”

“Wil’s adamant I be at the April meeting.”

“Why?”

“No idea, but I’m sure he’ll tell me.”

“Mr. Babbington could just be trying to be congenial,” Edna suggested. “Not everybody has a sinister motive, Rowly.”

“Sinister? Of course it’s sinister.” Abercrombie had heard her last words. “Surely this morning’s events are evidence that my life is in danger.”

“He might have a point, Rowly,” Clyde murmured. Rowland was not prone to overreact at the best of times, but he seemed particularly dismissive of Humphrey Abercrombie’s
predicament.

Rowland exhaled slowly. “Perhaps a spot of lunch will make a course of action clearer.”

“Of course, luncheon…” Abercrombie visibly cheered at the suggestion, and the implication that some action would be taken. His step quickened. Rowland’s did not.

“Righto, Rowly, what gives?” Clyde demanded, as they sat down in the dining room which was already abuzz with conversation about the blackout at the caves. Humphrey
Abercrombie had departed to don fresh clothes, apparently unable to countenance eating in his morning attire.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem a little unconcerned about your friend’s safety. He’s a bit of an old woman, but given the shooting…”

“We don’t know that it was a gunshot,” Rowland replied. “I imagine sounds amplify and resonate in the caves.”

“Still…”

Rowland leaned back in his chair and rubbed his brow. “Sorry, you’re right… it’s just that Humphrey’s always been completely paranoid, convinced that danger was
just round every corner.”

“Was he wrong?”

Rowland smiled. “Not always… but then it’s not entirely surprising that the odd person wants to kill him, is it?”

“The caves, this incident with the men in bad suits,” Clyde persisted, “surely it’s more than a coincidence.”

Milton glanced up from his menu card. “Clyde’s right, it is more than a coincidence though I don’t know that it has anything to do with the Honourable Lord Abercrombie. I think
we should be more worried about Rowly.”

“Me?”

“Why?” Edna asked, alarmed.

“Well, these chaps in the cheap suits—they sound like the goons that tried to take Rowly at the Hydro Majestic.”

“A lot of men wear cheap suits, Milt.” Clyde glanced briefly at his own rather worn jacket. “Particularly these days.”

“Still, they were asking about the guest list—they might have been trying to find out if Rowly was here.”

“And the caves?”

“Maybe it was a bungled attempt to snatch him there.”

“I think we’re getting a bit carried away,” Rowland murmured. “I’ll tell Humphrey to chuff off back to Sydney. He’s only going to work himself into some kind
of hysterical breakdown here.”

“Poor Mr. Abercrombie,” Edna said softly. “But what about you, Rowly? Maybe we should head back as well.”

Rowland’s eyes darkened a little. “We will, as soon as I find out what happened to Harry.”

Edna touched his sleeve. “You’re really worried about him aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t think…?”

“I don’t know… God, I hope not. I hope Moran is right and he just walked off.”

Humphrey Abercrombie strutted into the dining room at that point. He had swapped his plus-fours for the smart tweed suit, and made his way quickly over to their table. He dropped his face into
his hands as soon as he’d sat down. “Not a constable in sight!” he said. “A man is nearly murdered and the authorities still haven’t arrived.”

“What man?” Rowland barely masked his impatience.

“Why me, of course.”

Rowland pushed his hair back from his face and paused a few seconds before he answered. “Perhaps you’re right, Humphrey. It might be prudent to head back to Sydney as soon as
possible.”

Abercrombie’s face lightened. “Do you really believe so, Rowly? One doesn’t like to seem like one isn’t—”

Milton couldn’t help himself. “Courage, poor stupid heart of stone, or if I ask thee why, care not thou to reply, she is but dead and the time is at hand when thou shalt more than
die.”

Abercrombie blustered, confused.

“Lord Tennyson.” Rowland turned back to Abercrombie. “What Milt is trying to say is that there doesn’t seem any other sensible course of action, considering
there’ve been so many attempts on your life.”

Abercrombie’s face lifted further. “You may be right, Rowly.” He nodded emphatically. “There’s no point being foolhardy, as you say. Clearly these fiends will stop
at nothing.”

“Clearly.”

“But I say, Rowly, we’ve only just renewed our acquaintance.” He seemed quite disconcerted. “Why don’t you return to Sydney as well? What do you say? Let’s
jolly well leave this godforsaken place to the savages.”