To Touch the Clouds : The Frontier Series 5 (29 page)

The sailor resumed his duties as the dots and dashes continued to flood the airwaves. Suddenly he reached for his pencil and began scribbling on a pad. Many messages were being sent to his station lately from cruising German warships and traders. Hirsch took a deep breath and sighed. It was time to return to his office and resume his duties for the governor administrating the island. He placed his cap on his head and turned to make his way to the door.

‘Sir!’ the young signaller called to him. ‘I have just received an urgent message from the Schumann plantation. I think you should see it.’

Hirsch took the sheet of paper and read the deciphered signal. ‘God in heaven!’ he exclaimed. ‘You have just sentenced yourself to death, Captain Macintosh,’ he said aloud as the radio officer watched him in expectation. Hirsch glanced across at the young man. ‘Are you in contact with our patrol boat?’

‘Yes, sir,’ the sailor replied.

‘Then get a signal off to them to return to Rabaul immediately,’ Hirsch commanded.

The communications officer began tapping out the signal as Hirsch scribbled the formal signal for transmission on an official message pad. He turned to a map on the wall covering the immediate area of German interests around Rabaul that also stretched to German New Guinea. He knew the Schumann plantation from formal visits in the past and it had just recently installed a radio set. With his finger he drew a line between it and Rabaul, calculating how long it would take a coastal steamer to arrive. He knew that he must now hurry to the governor’s office and brief him on developments. He was certain that the Australian ship was on its way to carry out an act of espionage against the Kaiser’s interests in the Pacific. With the current international situation as shaky as it was he was convinced that they had to be moving towards inevitable war in Europe although he still prayed England would remain neutral. No matter what the rest of the world was experiencing he was at least certain his war had already started.

18

G
eorge Macintosh stood by the window of his office, his hands behind his back. Patrick Duffy held the telegram in his hand, reading its contents while Randolph Gates hovered, waiting for the reason he had been asked by Patrick to accompany him to the Macintosh offices in the city.

‘I believe that you may know something of the man who has sent this telegram regarding the situation Fenella has found herself in,’ George said to his father without turning to face him.

‘I do not know him personally,’ Patrick replied. ‘But I do know his uncle’s firm. It enjoys a very high reputation and for many years in the past our companies used their legal services. When did you receive this?’ Patrick asked, holding up the telegram.

‘This morning,’ George said, turning to face the two men in his office.

‘What is it?’ Randolph asked, sensing the tension between father and son.

‘Nellie is currently in the custody of the American police in their territory of Hawaii,’ Patrick answered. ‘It appears from the telegram that she is safe and well but she is to be extradited home to face a murder charge.’

‘Fenella did not kill Wilkes,’ Randolph blurted. ‘That is impossible.’ He noticed that neither man disagreed with him but that was to be expected when it was a family matter. ‘I will vouch that she was with me the night Wilkes was killed.’

‘Is that true?’ Patrick asked eagerly.

‘No,’ Randolph replied, shifting uncomfortably for the perjury he knew he would commit in any court of law as he suddenly remembered something. ‘God damn it!’ he swore. ‘I am not in a position to do that. I have already given a statement saying Fenella was not in my presence for that time.’

‘Could it be that you left out Nellie’s being with you, to protect her reputation,’ Patrick offered hopefully.

For a moment Randolph thought about the idea but dismissed it. ‘I was at my rooms in the hotel and the night porter confirmed that when the police spoke with me,’ he said. ‘I doubt that I could include Fenella.’

‘We could bribe the chap,’ George said quietly. ‘He could swear that Nellie was with you.’

Patrick shook his head. ‘We would be creating too many loose ends that could easily unravel, and we know that my daughter did not kill Wilkes.’

George nodded. ‘Then all we can do is wait until Nellie is returned to us, and employ the best defence lawyers in Sydney to represent her.’

‘That would have to be your distant cousin’s firm,’
Patrick said, wondering at the strange turn of events. He had let his contact with the Duffys from Redfern lapse over the years. Now that he would need their help to save his daughter he felt the pangs of crushing guilt. All he had to do was go to the police and tell them the story of what actually occurred on that night and his beloved daughter would be free. But that would also mean seriously jeopardising the military mission so vital to Australia’s future security. He knew that he was caught between saving his daughter and saving his country. The only hope he now had was that the Duffy blood of his father would be strong enough to save both his daughter and his country.

Patrick glanced at Randolph and could see the pain in his face. At least little Nellie had met a man worthy of her, he thought. He placed his hand on the American’s shoulder, regretting that he could not share his terrible secret with him. ‘Come, old chap,’ he said. ‘We have much work to do.’

‘Do you know that Mr Thorncroft spoke with me yesterday?’ Randolph asked as both men left the office and stepped onto the busy street shrouded by heavy winter clouds and whipped by a cold wind from the harbour. ‘He has completed the film and wants to release it in Australian theatres as soon as possible.’

Patrick thought about Arthur’s dilemma. ‘I want you to go to Arthur and tell him that we will not be releasing the film until this matter concerning Nellie is cleared up. If he needs money to get through until then you can inform him he only has to speak with me and it will be approved.’

The three men standing at the bow of the Macintosh ship scanned the harbour waters that were shimmering under the tropical sun on this cloudless day.

‘Look there,’ Matthew said, pointing across the bay to the clean lines of what from a greater distance might have been perceived as a millionaire’s yacht. The upper structure of the two-masted, single-funnelled craft with its clean white-painted upper hull, lay at anchor but there was no mistaking the three deadly four-inch naval guns on her decks or the ensign of the Imperial German Navy fluttering in the breeze at her mast.

‘It’s the
Komet
,’ Alex said. ‘She is Governor Haber’s gunboat in these waters. ‘At least we know where she is and apparently not on station looking for us.’

The comment did not take away Matthew’s unease. The German gunboat had the capacity to blow them out of the water and there was nothing they could do to defend themselves; .303 Lee Enfield rifles were pea shooters compared to what the formidable gunboat carried.

Bob Houston lit a cigarette and watched as the smoke swirled away. ‘What do we do now?’ he asked, taking a puff.

‘We go ashore as the innocent traders that we are,’ Alex said, turning from the bow rail. ‘I think that once we have cleared the port authority and Customs we should go to the officers’ club in town and look up a man I met on my last trip. I am sure that he will provide us with some hospitality.’

Ashore, the three men watched a column of uniformed German men wearing slouch hats and with Mausers slung over their shoulders marching along a tree-lined avenue.

‘Interesting,’ Alex muttered as the men paraded smartly by under the command of a junior officer.

‘What do you mean?’ Matthew asked his cousin with a note of suspicion in his voice.

‘They look like reservists,’ Alex replied. ‘Maybe it’s just a routine training exercise,’ he concluded. When the column had passed the three men continued their walk towards the German club in the settlement.

‘Captain Macintosh,’ an accented voice called from across the avenue. The three men turned to see a smartly dressed German officer hurrying towards them.

‘Hauptmann Hirsch,’ Alex greeted warmly in German, extending his hand. ‘It is good to see you again.’

‘Ah, Captain Macintosh, what brings you back to Rabaul?’ Hirsch asked, eyeing Matthew and Bob.

‘Maybe we should have a discussion in your wonderful club,’ Alex said. ‘But not to the extent of last time.’

Both men laughed lightly at the reference to the generous hospitality and even more generous amounts of schnapps Alex had consumed on his last visit to the club.

‘I should introduce my companions,’ Alex said, turning to Matthew and Bob. Introductions made, Hirsch invited the three to join him at the officers’ club where it seemed that half the island’s military had gathered for a drinking session. The rowdy party of uniformed and civilian-clothed Germans fell silent upon Hirsch and his guests’ entrance.

‘Gentlemen,’ Hirsch proclaimed. ‘I would like you to extend our hospitality to our guests, one of whom many of you are already familiar from his last visit . . .’ A murmur of agreement met his words. ‘Captain Macintosh and his companions, Mr Robert Houston and Mr Matthew Duffy. Both men have served their country in the South African campaign.’

Matthew had a good grasp of German and was surprised to hear that this stranger already knew about his past, as he also did of Bob Houston. That knowledge made him feel uneasy but he did not show it. A tall, good-looking young
man stepped forward holding out glasses of clear liquid to Matthew and Bob while Alex accepted the same from another of the club’s patrons.

‘Schnapps, my friend,’ the tall German said in halting English to Matthew. ‘I am Lieutenant Klaus and I had the honour of serving as a volunteer gunnery officer to our Dutch allies in that war. We drink to brave men,
ja
?’

‘On both sides,’ Matthew replied diplomatically, raising his glass as did Bob.

‘Where did you campaign?’ the former artillery officer asked.

‘I saw most of my action at the Elands River,’ Matthew replied, causing the German to raise his eyebrows.

‘You were at Elands River,’ he answered with a note of respect. ‘I heard much about your gallant defence from our Dutch brothers who were also there.’

‘Well, I am glad not to be there now,’ Matthew responded.

The German officer turned to Bob and his questions took the three men into a deep conversation about shared war experiences, albeit from opposite sides. The conversation made Matthew feel just a little easier and he was growing to like the men he met around him. No wonder Alex had suggested that they go to the club to mix with men not unlike themselves.

Alex found himself mostly in Hirsch’s company and the two men exchanged idle news on many matters. But when Hirsch noticed a new arrival in the club he excused himself to walk over to a slightly portly German officer wearing his dress uniform and the insignia of a major.

‘So, those are the men who have caused so much consternation to our governor,’ Major Paul Pfieffer said, accepting a drink from a junior officer.

‘Yes, sir,’ Hirsch replied. ‘But from what we have learned I doubt that they will be able to do much as they have left their aeroplane at the Schumann plantation.’

‘Not now,’ the intelligence officer replied, sipping the drink. ‘I suspect that their visit is an attempt to throw us offguard. They know, as do we, that there will be nothing incriminating aboard their ship anchored in the harbour. After we are satisfied that they pose no threat they will steam back to the plantation, pick up their aircraft and return covertly to our shores to complete their mission. They are still as dangerous as ever and must be eliminated.’

‘Sir, all we have to do is use the
Komet
to shadow them and its presence will deter any attempt they make to carry out their mission,’ Hirsch said, hoping that the matter could be resolved without recourse to violence. The reappearance of the Australian militia officer had caused the German to remember how likeable Alex was. It would feel akin to treachery on his part if he was forced to have the Australian killed – it would be like murder.

‘I am afraid that we have lost the use of the
Komet
,’ Pfieffer replied, taking a cigarette from a silver case adorned with a regimental badge. ‘Governor Haber has directed that the ship be used to carry out an inspection of our islands here. I suspect that he does not wish to be involved in any dealings we may have with the English that may be viewed by civilians as being a dirty job. No, we have to use other means to once and for all finalise this matter. To that extent I am going to organise for a fairly powerful explosive device to be placed aboard their ship with a timing mechanism so that by the time the bomb goes off their ship will be a long way out of our waters. Its sinking will be seen as an accident and nothing will be able to be traced back to the German government.’

Hirsch listened to the senior officer whose calm expression had not changed as he described the sabotage he had planned to kill off the three young men who, as he spoke, were partaking of the Germans’ hospitality.

‘What if I send a signal to the Schumann plantation to simply destroy the aircraft,’ Hirsch countered in quiet desperation.

‘That has already been done,’ Pfieffer replied. ‘I had a signal sent as soon as their ship anchored today. It seems there was a tragic fire in the storage sheds and everything was razed to the ground.’

‘To blow the bottom out of a ship of that size will require a very large explosive device,’ Hirsch said.

‘I have arranged for a couple of our sea mines to be re-engineered for the task,’ Pfieffer said. ‘I have also arranged for them to be placed aboard using means that will not raise their suspicions. Trust me, Hauptmann Hirsch,’ Pfieffer continued, ‘I am very good at what I do in the interests of the Fatherland.’

Although frustrated at not being able to spare the lives of the three guests of his club, Hirsch realised that they were, after all, a threat to German strategic interests in a very uncertain time. He sighed and excused himself, rejoining Alex who was now sharing drinks with two other German officers. The laughter came easily in the club as the sun set over the placid tropical waters where the Macintosh ship rocked gently at anchor.