The Steam Mole (23 page)

“Too right,” nodded a gangly workman in a singlet and a holey pair of khaki shorts. “Count me in. This Ness bloke c'n tell me I won't work again, and that the boss has the whole industry so sewn up we'll be blacklisted and that he's got so much clout that no charge will ever stick. But I had enough.”

“Robert Rainor is in Ceduna central right now. He's been refused bail. The magistrate was unimpressed by his lawyer, or his threats. Said he'd have let him out if he hadn't got those. And we'd like to make sure the charges do stick. Now, we're here investigating the reported death of one Timothy Barnabas.”

“They could have found the kid. I reckon that was a mistake McGurk made, putting it off with the sandstorm, but by the time we went out looking the tracks were gone. We couldn't even find the scout mole the girl took.”

Mary Calland seized on that. “The
girl?
”

The fellow in the khaki shorts blinked, taking in the presence of a woman among the police slouch hats, and hastily doffing his own.
“Yeah, too right, ma'am. Little slip of thing came up here beggin' us to go look for the kid. And then when we go below, she takes off with the scout mole into the desert.”

“I think we've finally found where Clara has got to,” said Captain Malkis.

“Clara. Yeah, they said that was her name. Gutsy little thing. Rainor tried to stop us looking for her, too, but that was too much. The fellers said they'd be shot and be damned first, and he let us do a search for the mole. Trouble is, she'd gone too far for us to see her. Someone caught sight of smoke to the west, though. It could be the mole, could be blackfellers. Ness promised he'd get some blackfeller trackers onto it. Said she was an orphan, and though he wanted her found, well, she had no kin and that was why she'd come up here and got involved with some boong. Kind of shocked all of us that. Said she had a history of trouble.”

“She's my daughter,” grated Mary. “And trouble is nothing to what's coming Mr. Ness's way. We're here to look for her, and for young Tim Barnabas. Can you tell us where to start?”

The railway-man shrugged. “Nowhere close ma'am. It's…its pretty tough out there. If she stayed with the mole she's got water and some shade. She's got a chance. But the boy's a boong. They can survive out there.”

“Tim, despite appearances, is not one of the aboriginals, or even of aboriginal descent.” Mary Calland was getting to the point where she found this aspect of Westralia intolerable. It was like the British attitude to the Irish.

“Oh, you mean he's like one of them Iteys or something? Not an aboriginal? I guess no one knew, him being dark-skinned and all. Well, ma'am, no use pulling punches. He's dead, I'm afraid. A day out there without water will do that, two and there is next to no chance, and he's been gone more than three.”

Mary bit her lip and shook her head. “He's a clever lad, but, well, I feel really sorry for whoever was responsible if he's not found
alive. We can just hope Clara found him! We will have to mount a proper search. Fortunately, we have the flying wing here.”

“Can't do much until morning,” said the pilot. “Landing isn't safe at night and I can't keep her flying until daylight.”

“Well,” said Captain Malkis, “it does sound as if we have a mess to clear up here before we move on.”

“Indeed!” said Lieutenant Willis. “Let's get down there.”

“Hold your horses, Lieutenant,” said the WMP inspector. “Let's try to do this more or less by the book.”

Captain Malkis nodded. “Let's first find out what information we can and then do this quietly and so we get the most out of it.” He turned to the railway-men. “Do you gentlemen mind telling us exactly what you know, and then we can try and plan this?”

So they heard about Tim being put off the steam mole and how Clara had taken the scout mole after pleading with them to go and look for Tim. They heard about how the shift captain had taken control of the winder room and negotiated an end to the situation, which had left him free and working. “This Ness feller. He just don't care whether it is right or wrong, as long as the drilling goes fast. He wants the first clankers of ore going south in less than month, no matter what.”

“He was mad about the scout mole, but when McGurk wanted wimps…er the coppers called, he wasn't having any. Said it would hold things up and they needed men of Vister's experience and skill. Said he'd get trackers. Well, they're not here yet. I reckon no blackfeller is going to come near this place.”

In the hold, Linda blessed the absence of noise and the fact that it was warmer. She was stiff, sore, and desperately in need of a drink and a bathroom, and not in that order. And she'd had a lot of noisy hours to think about her actions and the consequences of them. The level of trouble was going to be large, just like her need to get out of that flying wing. She found her way to the hatch she'd come in through and started fiddling with it…only to have it suddenly open. The man staring at her looked nearly as surprised to see her as she was to see him. She said, feeling it a tad inadequate, “Er. Good afternoon.”

“Crikey! What are you doing in there?” demanded the airman.

“Er. Hiding.”

He shook his head at her, giving her a hand to get out. “You're lucky you didn't freeze to death.” He looked at her askance, his lips twitching. “Don't tell me you're the girl that Dr. Calland is looking for.”

“No. She's going to be pretty mad at me, I think,” admitted Linda. “But I did it for the best…please, I desperately need the bathroom.”

He looked both uncomfortable and understanding. “Here. We don't usually use it when the plane is not in flight, but I think the ground will survive.”

Linda came out to find the news of her presence had preceded her.

“Your parents will be worried stiff about you, and you could have died of the cold in there!” said Dr. Calland.

“I know. But it seemed like the only thing to do at the time. You see they were going to subpoena me to testify that you had
forced that horrible man to sign that confession. If I wasn't there, they couldn't do it. And I honestly couldn't think of anywhere else to hide, or to go to.”

“But, my dear girl, you simply had to tell them the truth. The captain did trick him into it, but he didn't force him.”

“Nicky said he'd…he'd give my father my letters if I didn't say he was forced.” Linda bit her lip. “My father can…can get very angry.”

“I see,” said Dr. Calland. “This is your young man? The one who told you not to tell your father about Clara?”

“He's not my young man anymore.” Linda found some relief in saying that. “He's a toad. He was…he was the other clerk at the Discovery North Railroad office.”

“The callow young one with the attempt at a moustache?” asked the captain.

Linda nodded miserably.

“I don't think you need to trouble yourself any further about him or his threats,” said the captain calmly. “I've met your father, and it's not you he's going to be angry with. Well, not you so very much. The first thing we need to do is to contact Max Darlington and reassure him that you're safe. The flying wing has a Marconi-transmitter. We can at least send a shortwave message.”

Linda really did not enjoy writing down the message for the flying wing copilot to code and send to her parents. Because of the noise, they used Morse code for messages, not voice. Dr. Calland and Captain Malkis composed it, and they didn't pull their punches. The message started by telling them she was safe and had been a stowaway on the flying wing. The rest…She had to tell them Nicky's full name, and what he'd wanted her to say, and what he'd threatened her with.

The copilot looked at her. “The radio op said I should hold. He was contacting your parents.”

“Excuse me, Miss,” said one of the two proper policemen. “Do you mind giving us a statement about all this? It could be very useful, and er, when you've done that, the lieutenant here has been hatching a plan I don't know if I should know anything about. You're…more or less the same age as Miss Clara Calland, and the new man who was sent up here won't know what she looks like. Lieutenant Ambrose wants to know if you'll help to give him enough rope to hang himself. He assures me you'll be quite safe.”

“Why shouldn't you know?” asked Linda, wary.

“It's entrapment. We're not supposed to do it.”

The lieutenant smiled. “I thought it was only entrapment if they were forced to say it.”

“It's something of a grey area,” said the policeman, “and they have clever lawyers. We like to do things by the book with them, to avoid a lot of hard work for nothing. I should caution him first.”

“You, of course, would caution him if you knew he had actually done anything, but we don't as yet have conclusive evidence,” said Lieutenant Ambrose, smoothly enough to be a lawyer himself. “All she will say is that she doesn't want to talk to him. She wants to talk to the Westralian Mounted Police. Just what a good citizen would do.”

“Not in these bleeding parts, unless they were in deep trouble,” said the railway-man who had been working on the shed. “Me and Tony and three of these submarine coppers will be with you, Miss. He's likely to go bark-o.”

“And there will be several men just outside the door,” said Lieutenant Ambrose. “The rest of the men will be taking up positions in case of any trouble. But I gather Vister and his crew are out in their mole, and they would have most to lose. They get in in two hours' time, so we want to move as soon as you have that statement, Inspector.”

A little later, Linda found herself being escorted by grinning, burly men to the office of the power-station manager. There was a large, jowly, unshaven man with narrow eyes propping up the passage wall outside it. “Where do you think you're going?” he growled, fondling the rifle he held.

“Got a girl to see the manager,” said the railway-man, stepping between the rifle and her.

Sergeant Morgan and Inspector Johns, who had approached, walking quietly, from the opposite direction to the group with Linda, were almost on top of him before he realized they were there. He must have heard them at the last minute and turned. Seeing two large men in the uniforms of the Westralian Mounted Police didn't seem to be quite what he was expecting. He dropped the rifle. “Ah. It's Porky Balmin,” said Sergeant Morgan. “I've been looking for you, Porky. There'd better not be any live rounds in that rifle, or you'll be in stir for even longer.”

The unshaven man gaped at them, then tried to turn to run, only to find himself brought up short by a hand on his collar. “You go ahead,” said the inspector to the rest of them. “You're just seeing the manager, I'm arresting a known felon,” he said, face absolutely prim.

They knocked and went in.

“Who said you could come in?” asked the sandy-haired man with very pale amber eyes. Linda thought his eyes looked rather like those of the Weimaraner dog down the road, but without any sign of the dog's pleasant nature.

“We're the scout mole crew. We was working topside. We brought this girl to see you, Mr. Ness.” Ned pushed Linda forward a little.

Ness smiled. It was not a kind smile. “Ah. I see why Balmin let you in. Well, you can get out. I'll deal with this. You've got some questions to answer, girly.”

“I'm not saying anything to you. I want to talk to the Westralian Mounted Police,” said Linda, eyes downcast.

“You're in such trouble, you don't want to talk to them,” said Ness. “I'll make you a deal, little girl. You tell me what I need to know, you shut your face for life, and I'll see you get a ride to Kalgoorlie. There's some places there that'll take young girls. Your mother is dead, and you've got no one. Forget you ever came here, forget your boong boyfriend, and we won't prosecute you for theft.”

He looked at the men still standing there. “I thought I told you to get out.”

“Can't just leave her,” said Tony. “Give her a break, Mr. Ness.”

“Break! She's lucky I don't tell Balmin and the boys to take her out into the desert and leave her there. And if you're not out of my office in thirty seconds I'll see you get something broken. What's your name?”

“Tony Porter. Look, yer can't do this. Yer boss won't let yer. You got no authority to do this, and me and the boys ain't leaving until yer prove yer have. Yer covering up murder, and now you want to send this poor lass to Kalgoorlie. That's a bad town, that.”

“Porter,” said Ness icily. “You're fired, and docked your outstanding pay. Any of you even speak of murder or about this girl, I'll get to hear about it and you'll never work again. There's no time to waste on some aboriginal kid being got rid of, and girls like this are not going to stop us. Rainor said it was to be all hushed up, and that's the way it'll be. We've got a blacklist for workers who cause trouble, we circulate it, and all the major employers work together on this. I've warned you…”

“Show me yer authority. Yer talking through your hat. Mr. Rainor never said you could do this. Them's crimes. We're going to tell the wimps,” said the big Tony Porter, putting a hand on Linda's shoulder.

“We
own
the police, you fool. You're going to end up breaking rocks for your trouble. I've orders directly from Mr. Rainor, in person. Balmin!”

“He's been detained,” said Inspector Johns, leaning around the open door. “Can I help you? Seeing as you ‘own' me.”

The sight of the slouch hat and uniform made quite an impression on Ness. “I…I was just speaking rhetorically,” he said. “I meant no harm, really. Of course I was going to call the police. It's just been really important to Westralia to keep the tunneling going.”

“Tell it to the judge,” said Inspector Johns.

“Oh, by the way,” said Clara's mother, putting her hand on Linda's other shoulder. “Miss Darlington is not my daughter. And I am not dead. Now, would you like to explain where you thought you were going to send my daughter?”

“Not unless he wants me to march his teeth out of what he sits on,” growled Gordon, the submariner who'd been playing a plainclothes witness. “Better stay in jail, because we won't need a list to remember you.”

“I want a lawyer,” said Ness, looking like a cornered rat.

“Mr. Cheswick?” asked Lieutenant Ambrose.

“Yes!” said Ness.

“I believe he's going to be one cell over from your dear boss for his role in attempting to subvert a witness. We'll get him to talk to you once the clanker takes you down to Ceduna. Now, we need a secure place to lock these two up, and we need to round up the rest of those who might try to stop a police investigation. I think this place could be the scene of at least one crime.”

Linda had no part in the arrest of the shift-captain or the foreman. She was up at the wing, writing a reply to her father's message. He wanted to know if she had suffered from frostbite and if her lungs were all right…and nothing about Nicky. She didn't know whether to be relieved or worried that it was not being mentioned.

The WMP, however, were making sure that her ex-boyfriend's boss was not going to be happy. Linda was pretty certain it was deliberate, she just wasn't quite sure why. They declared the tunnel
a crime scene and off-limits until further investigation. They declared the newly returned steam mole a crime scene. They found McGurk, who had been relegated to a back office and was steaming about that…and charged him, too. When the clanker came in the morning, the prisoners would all be on their way to Sheba in irons. The WMP were playing very hard, it seemed.