Black Mountain (11 page)

‘If you're sure?'

‘I'm sure.' Beth took a deep breath. ‘Enough of this,' she said firmly. ‘Now, the next step. Number twenty-three is an exceptionally good serum. I used it on my face, as I did all of them as they came along, but this was the best by far. And I tried it on the scar on my thigh from a mole I had removed a couple of years ago, and it faded to where you could hardly see it. The only problems are the texture and the aroma. It's glutinous, and it feels terrible on the skin. And the aroma. Very strong and unpleasant.'

Elly nodded. ‘Yes, I remember.' She looked at the screen. ‘It's all here. But Dad and I talked about it, and he'd begun working on a slightly different formula to remove that, and give it that extra something that would take it to the next level—the ultimate skincare.'

‘The fountain of youth.'

‘Yes.'

‘Without him, I don't have the expertise to do that. I'm not a scientist,' Beth said, ‘but you do, Elly. Could you do it?'

Feeling a rush of excitement, Elly answered, ‘I've done a lot of research in the last few months. I'd like to try.'

‘Then let's go for it.'

Determinedly, Beth put the bottle labelled twenty-three on the bench next to Rob's instruments, then went to the dresser and took down a book resting there.

‘This is all we now have of the plant,' she told Elly, opening it and carefully extracting the dried flower with a few leaves attached that had been pressed between its pages, and placing it on a dish.

Elly took it and placed it next to number twenty-three. ‘There's no moisture left in it, so I won't be able to extract any oil, but let's see what we can do. I'll check back through the earlier experiments too, to see if there's anything in those formulas that might help.'

Beth went to the desk and opened one of the drawers. Taking out a folder she handed it to Elly.

‘As you know, I was the guinea pig for testing each batch, and this is my record of the results, the effect of each one on my skin.'

‘Thanks, Mum, that'll be most helpful.'

‘Is there anything I can do?' Beth asked.

‘I don't think so. Is there anything you want to do here, or do you have things you want to do in the house? Don't forget Greg Talbot is coming to lunch tomorrow.'

‘I haven't forgotten and I have something prepared. I must say he's one of the last people I ever expected to be coming here for a meal. I hardly know him, and I know your father never fraternised much with him. They didn't have much in common.'

‘He's at a bit of a loose end up here on his own, l think he just wants the company.'

‘Well, he's welcome enough. Now I'll leave you to it.'

Elly spent the next few hours re-reading her notes and examining every one of the previous experiments, feeling each potion's texture, checking its ingredients and viscosity, and using the various instruments to glean as much information as possible from each one. Then she read her mother's observations about the results of the practical trials on her own skin, which she had analysed with clinical detachment and recorded meticulously. Each batch gave different results and she had made notes of Rob's observations as well as her own, and their discussions of each.

At the end of the day Elly came to the conclusion that, while each batch showed good results, it was number twenty-three, where her father had taken a different approach, which yielded the best results. But the glutinous texture and unpleasant aroma meant it was unacceptable as a commercial preparation. As she closed her laptop at the end of the day she wondered if she was good enough to be able to continue his work further.

Chapter 17

When Greg arrived at
Wanagura
Beth opened the door to him and greeted him pleasantly, but there was no sign of Elly.

‘Please come in,' she said holding the door open for him to enter. ‘I'm afraid Elly is a little tied up at the moment, and I don't like to disturb her when she's working, but she'll be out in time for lunch.'

‘I hope I'm not intruding. It was very kind of Elly to take pity on me and invite me to lunch today.'

Beth shook her head. ‘Not at all,' she replied. ‘It's a pleasure to have you. We lead a quiet life up here these days.'

He hastened to offer Beth his condolences on Rob's untimely demise.

‘I know time has passed, but you must still be feeling his loss terribly,' he sympathised. ‘Having lost both my parents suddenly, I can understand a little of what it must be like for you.'

‘Thank you. We must all move on,' she said, summoning a smile. ‘Would you like to look around outside before we have lunch? The mango harvest's in full swing.'

‘I'd be interested to see it.'

He followed her down the long hallway of the gracious old Queenslander and out through the back door.

As they walked outside Greg's eyes flicked around the property. They walked between the orderly rows of mango trees, watching the pickers using the long-handled implements that cut the fruit off with the stem attached.

When they left the orchard, he queried Beth about the herbs she grew, professing a deep interest, and she took him to view the herb garden and her small greenhouse.

‘Was Rob interested in herbs too?' he asked.

‘Yes, in so much as he could use them in his work.'

‘And I believe you use them extensively in your own work?'

‘Yes, along with essential oils.'

‘And did you and Rob work together?'

‘Yes, we worked a lot together, we made a good team. He had a strong interest in plants and herbs, and mine's always been primarily the essential oils.'

‘So you were able to combine your strengths, so to speak.'

‘Yes. It worked well enough.'

‘And were you working on anything before he went?'

‘Oh yes, this and that. He loved experimenting, you know.'

‘How interesting. And was there anything exciting in the pipeline?'

Beth gave a little shrug. ‘Every experiment is exciting. You never know if it's going to be a success or a flop.'

‘Always hoping you might have the big breakthrough and come up with the next big thing, eh?'

Beth shrugged again. ‘Of course.' She looked at her watch. ‘I think it's time for lunch now, if you're ready to come inside.'

‘Certainly,' Greg replied.

Beth walked over to the small building that stood a little apart from the main house and opened the door.

‘Elly,' she called. ‘Can you stop now and come for lunch? Greg is here.'

Standing close behind her, Greg saw Elly working at the far end of the room at a bench with scientific instruments on it. His gaze raked the room quickly, taking in all the equipment, the shelves with the rows of bottles and the rest of the paraphernalia in the room.

‘Just give me a minute,' Elly replied, turning towards the door with a bottle in her hand. ‘Hi, Greg, be with you in a moment,' she called.

‘No worries,' he replied easily.

The talk at the table was general as they enjoyed the meal Beth had prepared, delicious local freshwater crayfish and salad, followed by fresh mango and her own homemade ice cream, decorated with candied violet flowers.

Greg's opportunity to slip away came after lunch was over, when the two women were clearing away the dishes. He excused himself and left the room, but bypassed the toilet, which was near the back of the house, and stepped quickly out of the back door. Hastening to the door of the laboratory he opened it and slipped inside.

Scanning the room quickly he saw the jars with their numbers plainly visible sitting in a row at the back of the bench where Elly had been working, and noted that the one marked clearly with twenty-three, the highest of the numbers, was at the front of the bench. Obviously, it was what she had been working with.

He scurried back into the house and slipped into the toilet, coming out and closing the door noisily behind him.

Shortly after he thanked his hostesses warmly for the delicious meal and took his leave. As soon as he had driven a short distance he stopped the car, pulled out his phone and made a call to Jackson Lee.

***

Jackson Lee was getting restless—he'd been here long enough. There was only so much you could take of a life of lazy indulgence, even if it was being funded by someone else. Also he was becoming uneasy about his chances of becoming discovered now the tourists were thinning out. And the heat and humidity was getting to him. He thought longingly of the cool shores of Akaroa, his home town in New Zealand.

He wanted to move on, but he had to wait for the big payout Greg had promised him. Besides, he had to rely on Greg to take him back to New Zealand in his yacht, the same way he'd brought him in, without using his passport. It'd been easy, just one more yacht among the many that sailed the Whitsundays, and he'd slipped ashore and blended in easily among the throng of tourists here in the northern winter.

It had been a simple job—strike up a friendship with Elly in Cairns, find out where she kept her father's journal and steal it. He and Greg were old mates, and when Greg had told him about it over a beer in a Wellington pub, he'd said it would be a cinch. Greg knew he wanted to leave the country for a while, until the widow he'd relieved of a sizeable slice of the money her husband had left her had calmed down. He'd felt he was entitled to most of it anyway, he'd kept her happy for a good while.

Mind you, he'd had an unaccustomed feeling of guilt over stealing from Elly. Apart from her beauty, she was smart and fun to be with, and he'd actually become quite fond of her. In fact, if he'd met her in different circumstances, when he was himself and not acting a part, he'd have pursued a very different type of relationship with her. For a short while he'd even contemplated letting their friendship develop naturally into something deeper, an idea he found extremely appealing but, unusually for him, his better nature had come to the fore.

He knew she had agreed to the weekend away because she was ready to take that next step, but he didn't want to hurt her, he thought too much of her for that, and he'd told too many lies while playing the part of the dashing Qantas pilot to be able to reveal his true identity. No, there was no future for him with Elly, so he'd gone ahead and done what Greg hired him to do. Searched her apartment, found her father's journal and handed it over to Greg. And that was the end of his relationship with her.

Now he wanted to move on, so when Greg phoned and told him he had one more job for him he was delighted, until he found it meant returning to Cairns.

‘Are you crazy?' he asked. ‘It's too risky for me to go there again. I might be seen.'

‘All you have to do is catch a plane up here and I'll meet you at the airport and take you back to my motel room. Have you let your beard grow like I told you?'

‘Yes, but still …'

‘Make sure you're wearing a cap and sunglasses, and carry your backpack so you look like just one more backpacker. There're heaps of them here now for the fruit picking. The risk is minimal, and you'll be well paid.'

‘I'm not going to risk walking around Cairns!'

‘You won't have to. Now, I want you here on the next plane. Ring and let me know your flight number and I'll be there to meet you. '

‘All right,' he grumbled.

Clicking off his phone he dialled the airport to check on flights, and late that afternoon he arrived in Cairns.

Greg was at the arrivals gate to meet him, and nodded his approval at Jackson's appearance.

‘Good, your own mother wouldn't know you,' he greeted him, before hurrying him out to the car park.

‘It's not my mother I'm worried about, it's Elly Cooper.'

‘Get in the back and keep your head down,' Greg told him as took his backpack from him and threw it in the boot. ‘We're going straight to my motel, you're safe as houses.'

When Greg told him a little later what the job was, Jackson exploded.

‘Go to Elly's place and pinch something while she and her mother are in the house? You're crazy. She'd recognise me in a flash if she saw me.'

‘She won't see you. They'll be asleep, and the laboratory is separate from the house. You won't even have to go around the outside of the house, you just creep in through the mango trees, go in and pick up a couple of bottles and come out again. I'll be waiting nearby with the car and we'll be on our way.'

Reluctantly Jackson let himself be persuaded.

They waited until one o'clock in the morning before they set out, and an hour later they pulled up a little way from the entrance to
Wanagura
. All was still and silent as Jackson left the car and climbed through the wire fence into the plantation. The heavy clouds obscured the moon, making the night almost pitch black. Jackson, dressed in dark clothes and gloves, with his cap pulled well down and a scarf around his neck to pull up and cover his face if needed, was almost invisible as he made his way amongst the trees towards the house, with only the narrow pencil beam of his flashlight to betray his presence.

His sneakers made no sound on the dry earth, and he found his way to the laboratory without any bother, and checked the door. As expected, it was locked. Undismayed, he edged around to the window, to find it also secure. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small implement and patiently worked away at the catch, alert for any sound, until he was able to open the window. He shone his light inside and saw he had a clear space below.

Climbing inside he flashed the light around the room and, seeing the bench with the instruments on it, moved across to it. Yes, there were the bottles and jars, exactly where Greg had said. He chose those marked twenty-two and twenty-three, and wrapped each in a small towel for protection before placing them carefully into the small bag he had brought with him.