Pearls (21 page)

'I see.'

Wingham fidgeted under the young woman's gaze. He sipped some more lemonade and noticed for the first time how drawn Mrs Niland she looked. It had not been evident to him at first, partly because of the bright sunlight, and partly through her clever use of cosmetics.

'Well, that's all. Perhaps I had better go.'

'No, wait. I'm sorry. I'm being very rude. It's just that I don't know what to say.' She bit her lip and he realised with horror that she was close to tears. Please don't break down in front of me, he thought. I'm not equipped.

'I'm very sorry about your father,' Wingham said, to cover the long silence. 'I had known him for many years. He was a fine man.'

'He was a rogue and a drunk, Mister Wingham. We all know that. But he was my father and I loved him ...' Her voice cracked and she broke off. Wingham sipped more lemonade. Ghastly stuff. Too sweet.

'So. What am I to do, Mister Wingham? What am I to believe?'

'As his lawyer, I am bound to say only one thing.'

'And when you are not being his lawyer?'

'I am always a lawyer,' Wingham said.

Kate got up. 'No doubt you have heard the talk about me.'

Wingham felt himself blush. Really, this wasn't proper. 'This is a small town. One hears all sorts of things over the years,' he said. 'One pays no attention.'

Kate gave a tight, bitter smile. 'Well, let me tell you this. I may be George Niland's wife but I believe I know Cameron McKenzie better than anyone in this town. I know his capacity for spite and revenge. I want to believe he is innocent, but ...'

'In my mind, there is reasonable doubt.'

'Don't misunderstand me, Mister Wingham. I don't for a moment believe that he killed my father in cold blood. What I think ... is that my father went looking for him on the
Roebuck
and Cameron defended himself a little more robustly than he might have done. At the same time I have no wish ... to ... to see him hang. It will not bring my father back. I just hope I never have to see him again. He has turned my life into ... a nightmare.'

Wingham got to his feet and put his hat back on his head. It had been a mistake to come here. The poor woman had been through enough. 'I do apologise for troubling you. I'll go out this way if you don't mind,' he added and went down the back steps.

He paused in the garden and looked up at her. She looked so fragile, like a china doll. Not at all like the spirited young girl he remembered before she married.

'Shall I convey any message at all?'

Kate shook her head. 'No,' she said, 'no message.' 

Chapter 33

Sergeant Clarke rapped on the cell door. 'Cameron, it's Mister Wingham.'

Cameron jumped to his feet. He peered through the barred window. 'Have you been tae see her?'

'I did as you asked.'

'Will you nae come in and tell me what she said?'

'There's nothing to tell.'

'What did she say?'

'Nothing, Mister McKenzie. Nothing at all.'

Cameron slumped down on the edge of his bunk. He put his head in his hands.

'Jesus Christ,' he muttered. He was damned.

***

The window of George Niland's office looked out over the sullen mangroves of Dampier Creek. George always kept the back of his chair against the window so visitors had to squint against the glare of the sunlight to look at him. It immediately put him at an advantage.

Huey Fong sat there squinting. He looked like he'd had a heavy night. He wiped the sweat off his face with the palm of his hand and rubbed it on his khaki trousers.

George toyed with his fountain pen. 'You wanted to see me?'

'It's about that white boss. Flynn.'

'Really. What about him?'

'I know who do for him.'

George got up and locked the door. Huey Fong swallowed hard.

'The police seem to think McKenzie murdered him,' George said.

'No, boss. Not him.'

'Who then?'

'Simeon Espada.'

'Your young friend? The one who had the pearl?'

Huey nodded.

'How do you know this?'

'He drunk too much last night. He told me.'

'Did he tell you why?'

'Something about that pearl.'

'But he doesn't have the pearl.'

Huey shrugged. 'Well, I dunno. But that's what he said.'

'Has your friend told anyone else about this?'

'Don't know, boss. Shouldn't have told me should he? But like I say, he was too much drunk.'

'You're absolutely sure he's telling the truth?'

'Why would he say he done it if he didn't? Have to be something wrong in his head, right?'

George put a finger to his lips, thinking. Fong was a shifty little blighter, one of those chinaman that could never look you in the eye. Perhaps he was making this whole thing up, because of some private feud he had with this Manilaman. Could he take the chance? This Simeon fellow could ruin everything if it was true.

George reached into the drawer for his cheque book. 'I need a number one diver on the
Ilsa
this season, Fong. I'm sure I can offer you more than Lacey ever paid you.' He wrote out a cheque and handed it to him. 'Here's your advance plus a bonus for your loyalty.'

Huey bobbed his head appreciatively.

'You can hire your own crew,' George told him. 'Just make sure one of them is your friend, Espada.'

'Doctors say he can't dive no more, boss.'

'He'll dive. If you offer him enough.'

Huey reached for the cheque but George slapped his hand down on it before he could pick it up. 'Just make sure Espada doesn't come back and I'll double your bonus. Do you understand?'

Huey nodded. 'Dangerous business, diving for pearl.'

'Yes,' George said. 'It is.'

Huey Fong put the cheque in his pocket. George came around the desk to unlock the door and slapped him on the shoulder as he left. 'Good man,' he said.

***

Wes looked around the tiny cell and shook his head. 'Bin hyar mebbe hundred time. You?'

'It's my first time, Wes.'

'Coppers, dey put me in hyar fo' drinkin' and carryin' on, and dat one time fer puttin' dat Mary in de fambly way. So dey says. Coulden prove nuttin'. It was twins anyways. None of my womens has twins. Never has done befo'.'

He eased onto the cot beside Cameron, resting his massive hands on his knees. 'So what they goin' to do wid you, skip?'

'They intend to hang me, Wes.'

He blew out his cheeks. 'You? No, dey doan wanna hang you, skip. Dat crazy.'

'They have me trussed and tied like a sheep on a spit. I dinnae think we'll be pearling together again.'

Wes shook his head. 'Ain't right.'

'You'd better find yourself another skipper.'

'Mebbe I get on board dat
Ilsa
, I reckon.'

'Who's sailing her?'

'Dat Huey Fong.'

'Fong? Well, be careful Wes. Fong does nae have a very grand reputation. He once cut a diver's line when the
Donna
was caught in a storm.'

'Mebbe. But de money's good.'

'Well, just be careful, man.'

Wes got up to leave. 'Yo' a good man, skip. Ain't right.'

'Aye, well.'

Wes seemed about to say something else. He stood there, shuffling his feet.

'Well, spit it out, man.'

'Ain't nothin',' Wes said, finally. He banged on the door. When Sergeant Clarke opened it, Wes glared down at him, hands on his hips. 'Ain't right,' he repeated.

Clarke shrugged his shoulders. 'I don't make the law.'

'Mebbe I bust his head fer you, skip?'

Clarke took a step back.

Cameron shook his head. 'He's right, Wes. It's nae his fault.'

Wes shrugged and brushed the policeman on his way out, enough to knock him off balance. 'Bye, skip.'

'Goodbye, Wes.'

Clarke raised his eyes at Cameron. 'Christ, he's huge,' he said and the door slammed shut.

Chapter 34

Chinatown was quiet. It was close to the first neap tide and most of the fleet had sailed for the pearling grounds. For nine months every year, between April and December, Broome slept.

Tomorrow the
Ilsa
and the rest of the Niland fleet would head out, bound for the Condon Banks. Huey Fong wondered how he would deal with Simeon. Of course, if the opportunity presented itself, he would take it; if a storm blew up while he was underwater, or if his line snagged on a coral, or ... well, there were a thousand fates waiting for any diver. As master of the
Ilsa
, he held Simeon's life in his hands.

But the important thing was it had to look like an accident. Simeon had friends and relatives among crews on the other fleets; the white boss's money was no good to Huey if he ended up with a knife in his ribs.

He decided he needed some insurance.

He made his way up Spring Moon Lane to Tanaka's store. It was almost midday, siesta time and the street was almost deserted. A squat Japanese in a snow white singlet and shorts was bending to pick up a bundle of silks from the shop front.

'Hanaguchi,' he said.

Siosuki turned. His pug features were hideously disfigured. A broad scar ran across his nose and down his cheek and the skin over one eye was smeared pink, like melted wax.

'What you want here?' His voice was like the honking of a goose. The Koepangers and the Malays - even the aborigines - laughed at him behind his back now.

'I wanted to see you.'

'What about?'

'How would you like to get even with Simeon Espada?'

Siosuki hawked the phlegm from the back of his throat and spat in the gutter. 'Close up shut time. More better you come in the shop. We talk then.'

***

Huey waited in the little office at the back of the store while Siosuki closed up the shop. Finally Siosuki pushed the beaded curtain aside and sat down.

'Okay. We talk now.'

Holy Mother, Simeon did a job on him, Huey thought. He stared in terrible fascination at the livid pink scar on the other man's face. 'I heard you don't dive anymore.'

Siosuki pointed to his own face. 'Your friend do this to me, smash nose, smash cheeks, all smash up inside. Doctor say me - you doan dive no more. But I try, just one. One fathom and head feel like it will burst open, like melon. so, no more dive. All finish now. Have to work here in this ... shop.' His chest heaved.

'You want to kill him finish?'

Siosuki's eyes narrowed. 'Why you come here, Manilaman?'

'Got my reason.'

'You his friend, right?'

'Maybe. Maybe not. Up to you, Japanese. You want to see him pay for what he do to your face, your whole life?'

'How?'

'I am number one on the
Ilsa
now. Simeon is number two. I need crew.'

'Crew?' Siosuki said, contemptuously.

'Anything can happen at sea. Up to you.'

Siosuki thought about this. 'What crew?'

'Cookboy.'

Siosuki jumped to his feet. 'Cookboy? You want me to be cookboy?' For a moment he thought the little Japanese was going to throw him out of the shop. A fleck of spittle hung from his bottom lip.

'Well, you cannot be his tender. Like I say, up to you, Japanese.'

He got up to go. It was a bluff, because he was desperate, but it worked. Siosuki grabbed him by the arm to stop him leaving. Huey watched the play of emotions on his face.

'How?' Siosuki said at last.

'I'll tell you how when we are at sea.'

'Must be slow.'

'You decide. I don't care.'

Siosuki nodded. 'Cookboy?'

'
Ilsa
sail at high tide tomorrow.'

'Maybe I be number one diver this season, if not for Manilaman.'

'You make him pay then. Okay?' Huey walked out into the bright March sunshine. The money was as good as in his pocket.

Chapter 35

The red mud was bare. George had insisted on a marble headstone and that had to be shipped up from Fremantle.