Man of Two Tribes (10 page)

Chapter Sixteen

SOMEWHAT ruefully this time Bony sat back and watched the thaw of icy fear. Brennan's eyes moved as though by great effort. Riddell wetted his upper lip with the tip of his tongue, his eyes closed, one hand beginning to unclench. Jenks fumbled in his pocket for tobacco, and the girl moved her gaze from one to the other as though she had never before seen them. Dr. Havant appeared the least affected; he was still smiling as though at a joke none would understand.

Bony waited. His contribution to the build-up of Igor Mitski's return had not borne fruit. Mitski's murderer had not broken, and only Clifford Maddoch had almost reached breaking point.

Myra Thomas's next act was unexpectedly normal. She came forward and proceeded to gather the eating utensils scattered when Maddoch snatched up the ‘tablecloth'. Tin plate meeting tin pannikin was a familiar sound, and this brought the men back to a degree of animation.

Maddoch removed the canvas cloth and looked stupidly about. Terror on his face was like a waxen mask which the sun of silence began swiftly to melt. His lungs expanded to take in air, and expelled the long deep breath. Jenks said:

“How did you like it, Cliff?”

“It was.... My wife was like that ... between her fits ... as she was dying. I couldn't stand it ... again. Will it come again? Will it?”

Dr. Havant chuckled. He addressed Bony.

“Although the stage props were magnificent, Inspector, the resurrection of our departed friend was too
overwhelming—which is to be regretted. It leaves our double certificated murderer still hidden.”

“My compliments on your acute perception,” Bony said, coldly. “Meanwhile, the problem of escape is now paramount.”

“Gettin' out's the main thing, and that ruddy dog knows how,” Riddell said importantly. “Why crawl about getting backache and neckache when all we need do is loll around and eye the dog. She won't stop running in and out 'cos we happen to be watching her.”

Jenks, the only one who had made determined efforts to break out, suggested that the dog should be tied to someone.

“We must remember,” Bony told them, “that Lucy isn't a town dog, even though she is a United Nations. At least one of her ancestors was a pure bred dingo.

“Many of these bush-bred dogs are close to pure dingo, and, aware that their first litter was destroyed, will hide their pups so cleverly that they never appear until she permits them. You won't locate the pups by tying a string from their collar to your ankle, or be led to them, if the dog has the faintest suspicion you are watching her. You must watch her without her knowing it, and that is not easy. You must not make a fuss of her more than usual. To sum up. If you rush this dog she'll stay put and laugh at you.”

“The barrier idea is best,” Havant said. “Let us extend it. If she gets out this evening we shall know she didn't go by way of the blow-hole passage or beyond the Jeweller's Shop. We shall then station ourselves at various points to await her return—waiting up for the errant daughter.”

“Lot of common in that,” contributed Jenks. “She's got to give herself away some time, the sooner the better. I've had this ruddy joint, and there's times when I reckon I can't stand no more of it.”

“It won't be much longer, Jenks,” Havant said, confidently, as the tough ex-sailor seemed about to break down. “Now isn't the time to abandon hope, but to permit it to revitalise
our flagging spirits. As you have just mentioned, the dog will show us a way out eventually. And then...”

“And then I'm gonna hunt the swine who put us down here,” Jenks said with the solemnity of a Crusader taking the vow. “Once I get me hands on one of 'em I'll be like the Irish terrier I had. I'll never never let go. Was it the Gov'ment put us down here?”

“Certainly not,” Bony replied. “Who was instrumental in placing you people down here, I don't know—yet.”

“Got any notions who it might be, Inspector? You been full of questions. You answer some. Answer that one.”

“Theorising is often useless,” temporised Bony.

“Yair! But a bloke can have some satisfaction in thinkin' what he'll do to them who put him here.”

“That's the idea, Ted,” purred the girl. “Meanwhile you could fill the stove with kero, and fetch water. I've an urge to do some baking this afternoon.”

“That stove wants more kero?” Jenks snarled, getting to his feet. “Damn it, it eats oil.”

“Please yourself. You're the boss,” she snapped. “No stove, no bread, nothing.”

“Pity someone couldn't boss you, you slut,” yelled Jenks, and Brennan came charging from the kitchen.

“That'll do! Stop it!” shouted Bony. They coagulated like drying blood, and their furious eyes were ensnared by his. “Sit down, all of you. D'you hear? Sit down.” Jenks cringed, turned to sit on a blanket. Brennan smiled sneeringly, and obeyed. The girl turned to go back to her kitchen, and Bony lashed her. “You, too, Myra. Or didn't you hear me?”

Turning, she regarded him superciliously and continued on her way. Brennan said, grit in his drawling voice:

“Better sit down, Myra. Might be knocked down if you won't. Looks like ‘beg pardons' are old-fashioned.” She sat, and Brennan continued to watch her. “I'll make you a cigarette,” he promised, but she ignored the offer.

“That's better,” Bony told them. “I intend to explain several matters clearly so that you will understand what is ahead and how damn silly it is to brawl among yourselves.

“I believe I know where the dog found her way out. If I am correct, it might mean days, perhaps a month of labour enlarging the passage, and you must be sufficiently intelligent to know that where Lucy can go, Joe Riddell might not.

“But no matter when we escape, the hurdles are many and severe, and you must realise just how severe if you hope to live. The best way, the surest way, is for all of you to remain quietly here while I go back for help and transport. You will have to wait only three weeks. You will...”

“Nothing doing,” snarled Riddell.

“Wait here!” shouted Jenks. “Not for a million. I'd be out and away in a flash.”

“Not for me, Inspector. I don't like Mitski's Dead March,” Brennan said. “What about you, Doc?”

“I am going to be sensible and hear what Bonaparte has to say,” replied Havant. “And I would be obliged did you people remain silent and listen to what he wishes to say.”

“You will not suffer that noise again,” Bony assured them. “The plug in the drain at the bottom of Fiddler's Leap has been forced through and the waters released. That is one danger eliminated. Now listen attentively.

“When we gain our freedom we have to walk two hundred miles to the nearest homestead. We could cover twenty-five miles a day, the journey thus occupying eight days. That is, of course, if all were in training. Can any one of you honestly say he has ever walked twenty-five miles, or even fifteen miles in one day? Can any of you be utterly confident of walking fifteen miles every day for a week after being cooped in these caverns for years? Of course not. If one or more of you didn't crack within a week, I'd turn gangster.

“Still, we could assume that all of us can walk at least ten miles a day, so that our journey will take twenty days, say three weeks. We then have to provision ourselves for those
three weeks, also arrange our own water supply, because it's possible that for days on end we won't find any.

“What you must understand is that it won't be any question of the survival of the fittest. If, after I have placed all the cards face up, you are still determined not to wait for transport, then you will obey my orders without further argument, because it is my duty to return all of you to civilisation, not only the fittest, leaving the weak to perish.

“You will also understand that I am the only one among you who can lead you across the Nullarbor Plain, and that if anything should prevent me, say a blow to the back of the head, all of you will wander in circles until you drop and die. I can assure you that to perish of hunger, and especially of thirst, is the worst death you can suffer.”

Bony paused for comment. They watched him: were silent.

“There is a large number of people, who, because they happen to be born in Australia, believe they know everything about this Continent. They travel by car or bus to towns in the farming belts, or by bus and car on the highways spanning this Continent, even encircling it, and believe they can be told nothing. Doctors and university professors, sailors and old maids—they know everything about Australia. And I have no reason to believe you are not of that vast number of know-alls.

“Since I informed you that you are now at the northern extremity of the Nullarbor Plain, have you asked yourselves why you were brought here when there are many such caverns within a few miles of the railway, within stone-throw of the only tourist road following the southern extremity? No. You have been so occupied with your grievances, imagined and otherwise. Why were you brought here? Because if you ever did manage to get out, the Nullarbor Plain would claim you as surely as though you escaped into a forest of ravening tigers.

“In fact, if you determine to accompany me back to civilisation, you are going to be beset by worse than tigers. Fatigue will torment you. Your tortured imagination will
create monsters to stalk you. And Fear will snap at your heels.”

Bony paused for emphasis.

“Remember, I shall be with you. You won't lie down when you are tired, because I shall boot you to your feet. You won't moan about being utterly exhausted, because I shall energise you with a burning match under your nose. If you leave here with me, you will arrive with me, even if then you are gibbering idiots.

“You won't bluff me. The Plain won't bluff me. But the wild aborigines might, so that those who accompany me will walk much further than ten miles per day.” With studied insolence he added: “I trust I make myself clear enough for your limited understanding.”

Again he paused for comments, and again none were offered.

“When I set out to look for Myra Thomas, I had no knowledge of the disappearance of you men, your failure to report in accordance with your release doubtless being attributed to defiance. I have been in this part of the country for three weeks, and did not once find any evidence of aborigines. I did admit to that possibility ... of wild aborigines wandering this northern extremity of the Plain, but had no reason even to assume that there might be aborigines working for people who abducted released murderers, and who were instructed to await my arrival and capture me did I locate these caverns, and then add me to the members of the Institute.

“It is certain, if I accept the contacting of the aborigines before my arrival, which I do, that they will have contacted those white people who conveyed you here, and that the aborigines have been ordered to maintain watch over this part of the country, just in case I manage to escape and go back for assistance. Therefore, the wild aborigines represent the great obstacle confronting me as your leader.

“You think you know all about the aborigines, having seen them driving farm implements or trucks, their children going to school, and their women attending sewing classes. Perhaps you have seen them drinking milk shakes in town cafes, and even reading newspapers and books, and attending a cinema. Doubtless you have always regarded them as spineless nitwits, being infinitely below your own regal white-folk intelligence.

“You will not be amused when I tell you that the wild aborigine, in his own unfenced and unfarmed country, places you as little innocent, squawking ducklings, running around just waiting for your necks to be wrung. Can you see yourself, Doctor Havant, or you, Joseph Riddell, as a little duckling? I can.

“I do not assert that if we are captured by the wild aborigines we shall be massacred or we shall become the sport of savages. I state with utter conviction that if we are caught we shall be returned to these caverns and guarded well until another jail is found for us, or the exit has been sealed for ever. And I have no wish to remain here, for ever.

“If you have any sense left, you will remain here until I return with transport. I could do that within two weeks. My reputation is my guarantee that within three weeks you will be back with the crowds and the lights of your pet city. And what tales you will have to tell! What publicity, fame! Free food and drinks. The opportunity to make even enough money to muzzle the taxation bloodhounds.

“If you come with me, you cry with fatigue, you may moan with the pain of my boots, you may even die, but your body will arrive with me at the end of the journey you could have made in a comfortable car or aeroplane.”

Chapter Seventeen

“TOUGH guy!” Riddell said, sneeringly.

“Quiet,” commanded Dr. Havant with unusual severity.

“Sez you,” persisted the hairy man.

“Riddell, look at me.” Riddell was obstinate; Dr. Havant determined. Riddell visibly cringed. “I say, Riddell,” repeated Havant. To Bony he continued.

“As you requested, we have listened attentively. What you have told us is the essence of common sense, and your picture of the Plain an undeniable endurance test. I agree that we must wait here for you to send relief. As a medical man I agree that we are not fit enough to undertake the journey.”

“I'm not hanging around here,” Jenks asserted. “Not for mine. I can walk the trip. I'm going with Bonaparte.”

“Me, too,” declared Brennan. “I'll be on my way from the toe line. If I can't walk two hundred miles, I'll go crawling on hands and knees. I want to feel the wind and the sun; the big black boys don't scare me.”

They waited, waited as though for Riddell to cast his vote, but Riddell glared at them, was silent. Maddoch then said:

“If you, Doctor, decide to stay, I'll stay with you.”

“Thank you, Clifford,” Havant replied. “Riddell, I think you had better go.”

“I'm goin', Doc. Don't worry.”

“And so shall I,” added the girl.

“No,” advised Havant. “You must stay with Clifford and me.”

“It would be too dull. You two together don't even add up to one real man.” Her eyes mocked. Easter's assessment now proved right. “All of you have given me only sensational radio
material, enough to make real money, and I'm not missing out. I don't intend to be Daniel, left with two tame lions.”

“You could be disaster, Myra, for the lions you would accompany,” she was told, coolly. “The lions, as you now call us all, might not get through because of you, a woman, and therefore, a weak link.”

“I'm as strong as any one of them, and no one will stop me from going with Inspector Bonaparte. Not even Bonaparte.”

“Sez you,” snarled Riddell, and she turned on him.

“Shut up, you repulsive gorilla,” she shouted. “Shut up, you ... you...”

“I second that,” softly interposed Mark Brennan. “Myra, calm down. You're a lady, remember? You will do just what the Inspector decides. If he says you must stay here, you stay. Because, Myra, I won't let you spoil my chance of getting back to Pitt Street on a Saturday night. I'll bloody well choke you to death first. Get me, Myra?”

The violet eyes turned to Bony, who decided it would be wiser to have the woman under his own lash, for those who stayed would be in the position to betray those who went. He said:

“In Myra's favour is the fact that she has been here only a short while, and, physically, would be fitter than those who have been here for a year and more.

“Now, let us be clear. Doctor Havant stays, and Clifford thinks he ought to stay also. You others have elected to go with me. Mark Brennan, I like your spirit. I applaud your determination not to permit Myra, and others may be included, to ruin your chance of returning to civilisation. May I expect you to support all my decisions?”

“You may. Too ruddy right, you may.”

“Then, our next step. Because the way out taken by the dog might be comparatively easy for us, I warn you that to escape into the open in broad daylight could well mean the smashing of all our hopes. There are those wild aborigines, with eyesight like eagles. From our present position we cannot
know where they are, and thus they could be watching for us to emerge, waiting like dingoes for rabbits to bolt. To our great advantage is their fear of the Plain by night. So we work our way out by night. We emerge by night. Your journey to freedom and the bright lights begins by night. Now go to it. Look for Lucy's passage in the kitchen.”

Bony was left, seated on Curley's pack-saddle and rolling a cigarette. Even Dr. Havant rushed to the kitchen. Bony was reminded of his three boys at home when, as reward, he had started them on a treasure hunt.

Havant had performed miracles under extraordinary circumstances. He had preserved their sanity, and in so doing had preserved human decency, under mind-destroying conditions.

They had obeyed simple sanitary rules and kept themselves reasonably clean, retained a form of civilised eating. They conformed to rough but invaluable community demands and, if occasionally they lost control, the loss was temporary and beneficial.

For twenty-five years he, Napoleon Bonaparte, had hunted murderers. He regarded murder as the most loathsome crime. He had viewed the bodies of the slain, and was nauseated by the public sympathy for murderers, and the cold indifference to the murdered. He believed there was but the one penalty for murder: an eye for an eye, the justice of the Bible, the justice of the aborigines.

Here were six murderers, and here was he who loathed murderers and hunted them relentlessly. Right now could he hate Clifford Maddoch? Or Mark Brennan? Even animal Joe Riddell? Havant was something of an enigma. The girl was a type he disliked, beyond the fact that she was a murderess.

When engaged on a man hunt, the murderer had been an impersonal thing, like a wild dog. This hunt for a lost woman, which had led to the discovery of a community of murderers, had become personal. They accepted him without rancour,
even making him a Fellow of their absurd Released Murderer's Institute.

There was not among them a human tiger beyond reformation, save only, perhaps, that one who had killed Mitski. Imprisonment had imposed discipline and reliance on the officers. Time tended to heal animosity against the police responsible for their arrest and the judge responsible for the sentence. As Brennan had hinted, they had acquired loyalty to their fellows, and a kind of pride of the jail where they had served their sentence. It was something akin to the soldier who takes pride in his regiment, and is loyal to his comrades.

By welcoming Bony into their Institute, they were running true to form. The police had done a job of work, and the warders had performed another job. They and their opponents were in different trades unions, that was all.

He must beware of such reflections lest they should influence his approach to future man hunting. A lover of justice, he must recognise the danger of maudlin sentiment. The State—that easy front for diplomats, politicians, and appointed scoundrels—had defied and frustrated the courts of justice to gain personal kudos. The State was responsible for surrendering to mass hysteria, representing so many votes, and reducing the crime of murder to the level, of say, bigamy. His duty now was to do all possible to return these murderers to civilisation, when his official interest in them would end. With one exception.

They returned from the kitchen, wilting like cut flowers.

“The hole is behind the rock at the back of the stove,” Mark Brennan announced. “We can't move the rock; we'd need such things as crowbars and gelignite. Looks like we're sunk.”

Bony entered the kitchen. The stove had been moved to one side. A great boulder, or an upthrust of rock, had either fallen from the ceiling, or had been parted from the wall, creating a space of a little less than one foot. In this space, the dog had found the outlet at the foot of the wall.

“Take an atom bomb to shift that,” jeered Riddell, and the girl said brightly:

“That all? We'll ask the aborigines to pass a few down.”

“You can reach in, Inspector, and feel the hole in the wall about a foot up from the floor,” Maddoch informed him.

“The dog,” Bony ordered.

Lucy was brought. Bony on his knees pushed her forward, urging her to “Sick 'em! Sool-'em-up!”

Lucy required little persuasion. She disappeared. Silence enabled them to hear her muffled barking, and when no one followed her, she returned. Bony suggested that they try again to move the boulder.

He assisted. They heaved and hauled and pushed, grunting from the effort.

“Must be an upthrust, all right,” he said. “Anyone done any mining?”

Jenks claimed to have worked on sinking wells in the New England district of New South Wales.

“We'll try an explosive charge, Jenks. Could you bore a hole in this rock for the charge? It will take time.”

“With what?” Jenks asked.

“I have eight steel tent pegs and a small hammer used for driving in pegs and repairing dingo traps. I'll get them.”

They followed him to his pack-bags, from which he produced the hammer and pegs, and Jenks examined the pegs with care.

“They're not steel, but good iron,” he said. “But wait on, now. Where's the explosive?”

Bony produced two boxes, each containing fifty high power rifle cartridges.

“We extract the bullets. Cordite might do the trick,” he pointed out.

“Yair, but what about detonators to set her off with?” persisted Jenks, and Bony explained that each cartridge had a percussion cap or detonator, and for fuse they would have to fashion a train of kerosened rags, light it, and run like hell.

“It mightn't work,” he warned them. “We can but try.”

“You're just tellin' us,” agreed Riddell. “Let's give it a go, Ted.”

“First, remove the stove,” Bony advised. “Do it now, and Myra can get on with her baking. And grab that dog. She'll have to be tied up.”

The indignant Lucy was attached to the riding saddle, and Bony sat beside her. He could hear the low thuds of the ‘miners' at work, and watch Myra, who was absorbed with her cooking, obviously an avenue of escapism.

Havant came to sit beside Bony. The shaft of sunlight fell between them and the entrance of the main passage, and across the opening above passed woolly white clouds which Bony could only guess were southward bound.

“You are wise to elect to wait for relief, Doctor,” he said, when it became apparent that Havant waited for him to speak. “I wish the others possessed as much wisdom. If we do manage to get out and away, you will not jeopardise our chances by making a rash move?”

“Of course not. That would react on me, Inspector. What are your difficulties? What can I do? You will find me anxious to co-operate.”

“My main worry is those wild aborigines. As I said, they will not rove the Plain at night, being too fearful of Ganba. This place is but three miles from the northern desert country where they live and feel safe.

“If and when we can use the passage taken by the dog, we must on no account attempt to leave during daylight. It would be essential to be at least ten miles out on the Plain before the night passes, and we must trust to luck that our tracks won't be found and followed. Alone, I wouldn't have the slightest worry. With the others, and one a woman—you know their physical condition.

“Assuming we can prevent undue haste, even panic, those who wait must on no account use that passage. In fact, I shall
ask you to block it. You could resist the temptation to use it, even at night, but do you think you could control Maddoch?”

“Yes. The woman, no. I shall be glad if she leaves with you.”

“You are not an admirer?”

“I am not an admirer, Inspector. To me she is repellent. She has likened herself to a hen in a yard of roosters, a Daniel in the den of lions. Actually she isn't a hen, or a female Daniel. She is sexless without knowing it, but her husband knew it, and the knowledge was the basis of the animosity which led to his death.

“She has what is termed, in layman's language, a split mind, and I don't mean a split personality. One part of the mind worships Myra Thomas, and the other constantly defends a Myra Thomas who is fearful of men, of sex, and of the penetration by women of the vanity behind the facade. So take her with you and lose her, Inspector.”

“She goes with us, Doctor. Now tell me, what is your opinion of Mark Brennan?”

“Brennan was, I think, the least affected by legal imprisonment, and subsequently by these caverns. He realises most clearly his dependence on you to get them through. A likeable fellow in many ways, but ... the psychiatrist can cure the mind which once was healthy; he can do nothing for a mind deformed at birth. I was able to do a great deal for Mitski. I have been able to help Maddoch. Nothing can be done for Brennan. But you will find him an excellent first mate. Riddell is merely a body ruled by low intelligence. Jenks is slightly higher and, I have discovered, the hardest to understand. There is a lot of good in Jenks. As for Doctor Havant, well, you know about him. You found him sucked dry of the will to live. You will find.... Did you see that shadow?”

“Yes. There is someone up there.”