Tears Of The Moon - Part 15
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Part 15

Little Hamish stood beside Tyndall watching the new baby with great fascination, sometimes reaching out to touch the small fist and grinning in delight when little fingers curled around his own. He beamed at his mother and stood without moving, afraid of disturbing the baby, but Tyndall scooped the boy up and made room beside him in the chair so he could be close to the beautiful olive-skinned baby girl. Tyndall's show of affection further endeared him to Olivia.

At the Freemasons, Conrad had become very conscious of the raised eyebrows in reaction to Tyndall's domestic arrangements.

Major Ralph White, ex-British Army, old India hand and pastoralist who 'dabbled' in pearling, had taken a shine to Conrad. 'You picked an odd bod there to throw your lot in with,' he declared, his waxed moustache unmoving as he waggled his head in mock dismay. 'Decent enough chap, I suppose. Understand he helped out you and your good wife during difficult times, but I must say, Conrad, this baby business is not good form.'

'Rather unusual to parade about with it, I agree. But then, Tyndall has always been a non-conformist I suspect,' sighed Conrad.

'He's not the first and won't be the last to keep a woman on the side, white or black velvet, but it's rather throwing it in the face of everyone. Especially you and your wife. Very difficult. The women don't like it. Rattles them when one of their own kind lets the side down.'

He spoke kindly but Conrad knew there'd probably been a lot of discussion about it and the Major had been nominated to talk to him.

Conrad felt a faint flush around his collar at the Major's words but replied with some spirit. 'Tyndall is my partner and I respect him for his honesty and professionalism, but it is his personal business and, frankly, all the talking in the world is not going to change that man. He tends to live by his own rules. However, I will of course point out to him-once again-the inappropriateness of his behaviour.' Conrad hoped he sounded more positive than he felt, for he knew Tyndall would do just what he liked. He'd have another word with him and maybe Olivia could ask him to be more discreet.

The Major changed the subject and talked about his latest cattle venture which was proving very lucrative. 'Might even consider going into wool, old boy. Mind you, it's not a piece of cake. Blacks spear animals, d.a.m.ned weather is harsh, staff unreliable, but overall I seem to have a few runs on the board. Speaking of which,' he slapped his thigh, 'when are we going to arrange another cricket match? You're an excellent bat, splendid addition to the team.'

They called for another round and chewed over the highlights of the last club game, when Conrad had enjoyed a moment of glory after hitting several boundaries to give his side victory.

Excesses of weather dictated life in the north-west and this lay up season was proving particularly trying. The humidity drenched the body and numbed the mind, tempers were short-fused and explosive, minor matters became major issues. Small conflicts at sea became magnified into huge injustices in the simmering boredom of life ash.o.r.e.

Among the Asian community, in particular, there was a lot of tension. Ahmed conveyed this to Tyndall who warned the Hennessys and Niah to steer clear of the Sheba Lane area.

Sheba Lane, also known as Chinatown, j.a.p town, or the coloured quarter, was a collection of narrow alleyways that webbed from the original sand dunes where the enterprising Kamematsu Shiba had erected the first boarding house for the j.a.panese. Shanty dwellings, foodshops, sheds housing brothels and gambling dens crowded haphazardly together, creating a village of its own within the town.

The alleyways offered escape routes into or away from the various sections of the town, and a man could disappear into shadowy doorways, rickety upper floors, or backrooms at the flash of a knife.

Sheba Lane also accommodated other races and on the whole everyone rubbed along together with the general understanding that it was 'them' against the white bosses, the police, the law, and the belligerent members of the Yakuza, linked to powerful secret society leaders back in j.a.pan.

The monsoon was late and for guests at the Resident's garden party, there seemed no promise of relief from the oppressive heat and humidity. Storm clouds gathered, then slipped across the placid waters of the bay and got lost in the desert. The relatively new Australian flag hung limply on its flagpole alongside the Western Australian flag and the Union Jack. The RM liked the way the flags conveyed authority and elevated his position beyond its real status.

Olivia closed her fan and, excusing herself from the group of ladies on the terrace, walked across the lawn to where Conrad was sitting with the RM and Mrs Hooten, and Major White and Mrs White.

Of all the wives, Olivia found Amelia White the easiest to deal with because she made no demands on anyone. She drifted, in a haze of gin and lavender, smiling benignly at the world through slightly unfocused pale blue eyes. She was the ant.i.thesis of her bl.u.s.tering, loud, hearty, domineering husband and was thankful that while he was around she didn't have to make much of an effort.

Olivia was glad the Major had become a friend to Conrad. His c.o.c.ksure att.i.tude irritated her, but his fatherly advice seemed to mean a great deal to Conrad, who felt the friendship gave him extra standing in the small world in which they moved.

Talk turned, as it had with every group at the party, to the great fight that had erupted that morning between a group of j.a.panese and some Koepangers. No one was clear as to the cause. There was some perceived insult, shouted words, then the j.a.panese had chased the Koepangers along the foresh.o.r.e.

Later in the day each side had gathered support and there had been several clashes resulting in some nasty injuries. Two police officers had intervened and for the last two hours all had been quiet.

Mrs Hooten gathered the guests around the out-door buffet table where a large birthday cake was set up for the Resident's birthday. After toasts and several speeches, the Resident blew out the candles and, taking his ceremonial sword, was about to cut the cake, when there was a mighty outburst at the gates of the Residence. The stunned partygoers turned as one to confront a shouting horde of j.a.panese brandishing sticks, knives and stones.

'What the devil is going on?' demanded the Resident as the women cried out in alarm and retreated towards the house.

'Close the gates,' called Major White and two men rushed to the wrought iron gates across the drive.

The demonstrators continued to rattle the fence and shout and someone quickly translated, 'The Koepangers have killed a j.a.p!'

'Good Lord, now we're in for some trouble,' said Conrad with concern as Olivia stood close to him, nervously watching the angry men demanding justice.

'Order them away, Ralph,' demanded Mrs Hooten, still holding the cake plates. 'They'll ruin the party.'

A stone lobbed over the fence and another heated cry went up.

'Get the women indoors, Hennessy' shouted the RM. 'Major, run for the police. We'd better get to the bottom of this in a hurry. Could turn very nasty.' He turned to an aide. 'Get the men organised on the verandah, Jones.'

Soon a worried policeman arrived carrying a shotgun. 'Sir, seems the j.a.panese hounded the Koepangers and they were going in all directions and one of the j.a.p divers ran the wrong way straight into the gang of Koepangers. Beat him to death. The j.a.ps are demanding you round up the Koepangers and have them surrender the culprits.'

'Thanks, constable. First thing is to disperse this mob.'

'They're not going to listen to reason, sir. They're very stirred up.'

'Righto then.' Mr Hooten issued instructions and action was swiftly organised. Within minutes, a.s.sisted by the Major, he had all of the men a.s.sembled behind him. 'Right men ... Charge! Charge!' The RM raised the ceremonial cake-cutting sword and dashed forward. Behind him came a ragged line of Broome's elite, armed with umbrellas, walking sticks, garden rakes and brooms.

They raced across the lawn and the j.a.panese were momentarily frozen as the birthday guests reached the fence and banged their brooms and brollies against the railings, the occasional implement poking through to prod a startled protester.

The j.a.panese suddenly turned and headed towards the j.a.panese Club and Sheba Lane.

The men returned in triumph, calling for drinks. 'It's going to be a difficult night,' predicted the RM.

Fighting broke out through the night, with bands of j.a.panese storming houses, shops, dens and foresh.o.r.e camps to hunt down Koepangers. They'd given up looking for the guilty-now all Koepangers were in danger. They hid, and many ran into the pindan, hoping no j.a.panese would venture into the bush at night and that dungs would be under control by morning.

The extent of the trouble was considered too great for the police and men deemed to be responsible citizens were sworn in as special constables, Conrad and Major White among them.

The next day, as the fights continued, the RM, flanked by Sergeant O'Leary and the special constables, read the Riot Act in front of the Buccaneer Arms Hotel. He announced to a small crowd of citizens that a curfew was being imposed and that arrests would be made if anyone broke the curfew or engaged in unlawful a.s.sembly. If the races involved did not cool down swiftly, j.a.panese and Koepanger rabble-rousers would be held in segregated detention in pearl sheds.

'Throw 'em in together, that'll fix the problem,' suggested someone in the crowd.

But despite the RM's p.r.o.nouncement, no home or building was safe. Stones were hurled at verandahs and there were more reports of sheds, shops and offices being broken into.

With dusk settling over the town and brawls still breaking out, Conrad strapped on his revolver to patrol the streets along with other special constables.

Olivia looked concerned. 'Please, be careful Conrad.'

'Of course. But we have to show the flag or else they'll think they can take over the town any time they want. These chaps are only after each other, I'll be perfectly all right,' he answered more confidently than he really felt. 'Tell Minnie to keep indoors and tell Hamish I'll read him a story if he's still awake when I get back.'

Olivia gave him a warm embrace and, calling Minnie, who was now their housekeeper, she latched the house as Conrad strode down the street.

First he called on Tyndall who told him he was going to sleep in the Star of the Sea offices.

'I thought I'd check on Toby Metta while I'm patrolling,' said Conrad. 'I imagine he's staying on the premises too, seeing as he has pearls there'.

'Good idea, Conrad. He's got our five best pearls there to work on. Take care.'

'Right. You too, John.'

From the shadows beside the house, Ahmed watched Conrad set out on patrol.

The town seemed relatively quiet. The curfew was keeping people indoors although, as Conrad pa.s.sed one of the lanes leading into Chinatown, he could hear shouts and thumpings on doors. The strange smells that hung around the lanes, mostly a combination of sickly sweet incense and spices, caused Conrad to wrinkle his nose. A shadowy figure slid along the lane and dashed into a doorway next to the Star Hotel. The door opened just wide enough to let the man through and Conrad glimpsed the bright colours of a kimono in the lamplight before the door was swiftly shut.

Disgusting, he thought, the way the j.a.p women are used. G.o.d knows what they were promised to get them here.

Conrad was ignorant of geisha houses and of the fact that most of the women chose to come here to pursue their profession in the hope of acc.u.mulating wealth to take home. They were an essential part of Broome's j.a.panese community and the money that came from some of the courtesans secretly funded many successful business enterprises. But there were others-poor illiterate daughters of farmers and labourers-who were procured for brothels.

Conrad reached the pearl cleaner's shop without incident. The door was bolted, the shutters pulled across the window, but he could see a faint light within. He rattled on the door. 'Toby, it's me, Conrad. You all right in there?'

There was no response for a moment, then Conrad heard something heavy being dragged from behind the door.

'Conrad, my friend,' came the hoa.r.s.e whisper of Tobias Metta.

'Just checking on you, we thought you'd be staying here.'

The door opened and Toby's plump arm dragged Conrad inside, slamming it quickly behind him. 'You are a brave man to walk the streets alone. Brave and maybe foolish. But it is good to see you. A cup of tea?'

Conrad looked around, noting the revolver lying on Toby's work bench. 'Not taking any chances, I see. Yes, a cuppa would be nice.'

'I have many valuable pearls here, including yours, of course. I feel it is my responsibility to look after them. I heard some Chinese are selling gelignite. Never miss a business opportunity.'

'Gelignite. Good lord, what for?'

'It would put a hole in that for a start,' said Toby, pointing to his lead safe in the corner.

They drank their tea in the dim room lit by a small oil lamp. The idea of a break-in worried Conrad.

'So, have you had a chance to work on our pearls?' he asked, lowering his voice unnecessarily.

Toby kissed his fingertips. 'Several are superb. They're finished, came up magnificently. Let me show you.' Before Conrad could protest, he was unlocking the safe. The pearl cleaner took out a small black velvet bag and slammed the safe door shut again. 'Here, Conrad, under the light.' He adjusted the lamp on the desk, shook the pearls in the palm of his chubby hand and held them closer to the light. The fat round pearls glowed and Conrad beamed.

'They certainly are magnificent,' he enthused, 'Olivia will get us a good price for these from Monsieur Barat. I can't wait to show them to her. Could I take them now?'

'Is that wise?' said Toby, tipping them back into the little cloth bag.

'I'm armed and no one would think I'd be carrying pearls. It will distract and please Olivia, I'm sure. She has been quite put out by all this turmoil. Settling down a bit now the RM has got tough.'

'Well, if you insist,' Toby handed the pearls to Conrad who slipped them in his pocket.

'You'll be all right on your own?' asked Conrad.

'I have a stout stick here as well as the gun. I feel safe, the troublemakers are after the blood of the Koepangers. It will blow over. Mabel thought it wise I camp here for the night.'

'I'll head straight back then, Toby. Done my bit to show the flag in the streets.'

'Go safely, good friend. And good night.' With this he ushered Conrad out, bolting the door and ramming the heavy oak chair against it once more.

Conrad stepped briskly along the wooden foot-path, his footsteps ringing in the quiet night. He stepped down on to the dusty road of Dampier Terrace, his footsteps now m.u.f.fled. For a moment he thought he heard footsteps behind him, and stopped, but all was quiet. A block further on he crossed the street and skirted a laneway. Banks of clouds had rolled in and obscured the moon. Distant flashes of lightning streaked across them, followed by rumbles of thunder.

Conrad was about to turn the corner and head towards home, when a shadow moved between two buildings. Pausing, with his hand on his pistol, Conrad saw nothing and moved on. He had only taken a few steps when he was grabbed from behind and pressed into the doorway of the Chinese laundry. An arm was around his throat stopping him from calling out, and as his hands reached up to drag away the constricting arm, he felt a sharp sensation burn in his chest and in the second before everything went dark he read, quite clearly, the sign across the street-KIMBERLEY EMPORIUM, ALL NEEDS MET.

His a.s.sailant let the body drop to the ground and was quickly searching the pockets when he heard shouts and pounding feet close by. The Koepanger urgently stuffed the pistol in his belt, the little velvet bag into his pocket and was about to run when the kris slit his throat. Ahmed sheathed his fen's, retrieved the pearls and was still crouching over the body when about a dozen j.a.panese came around the corner shouting and waving sticks. Ahmed pulled Conrad's pistol from the body of the Koepanger and, still crouching, fired two quick shots over the heads of the j.a.panese. They stopped in their tracks. Ahmed leapt over the two bodies and dived down a laneway as Major White and a group of armed special constables came charging down the street.

The j.a.panese fled and, within seconds, Major White was beside the bodies. He ignored the Asian and rolled over the European.

'Good Lord, it's Conrad Hennessy,' he gasped.Despite the curfew, the news of Conrad's murder spread swiftly. Tyndall was quickly on the scene. Stunned by confirmation of the death of his friend and partner, he went to Toby Metta, who told him of Conrad's visit. The pearl cleaner wrung his hands, tears running unchecked down his plump dark face.

'I told him, warned him, he was foolish to be out in the streets, especially carrying pearls. But he wanted to do his duty. He was such a good man ... a good man.'

Tyndall touched Toby's arm, unable to speak, nodded in support and understanding, and left to return to the scene of the murder.

Conrad's body was carried away and the Major, the RM and the police chief turned to Tyndall. The four white men stood in the shadowy street while police and a small crowd, ignoring the curfew, stood in the background softly discussing the gruesome details.

The Resident Magistrate took Tyndall by the arm. 'Captain Tyndall, I know it is difficult, but frankly we think it best you break the news to Mrs Hennessy. Naturally if you would rather-'

'No!' said Tyndall instantly. 'I'll tell her. No one else.'

'Mrs Hooten and the ladies will call later in the morning.'

Tyndall shook his head. 'I'll let you know when I think it appropriate for all of that. Leave matters to me ... for the moment.' Tyndall was firm and protective but there was something else in his manner that stilled the others from rushing in with offers of a.s.sistance and advice. 'Please ask the doctor to send sedatives to the house.'

Refusing the offer of transport, Tyndall walked slowly through the darkened streets towards the Hennessys' bungalow, trying to frame the words to tell Olivia she was a widow.

When he reached their garden gate, he opened it as quietly as possible. Approaching the house he saw a figure rise from the verandah to confront him.

'Olivia?'

'No, is Minnie, boss. I bin waiting.'

Tyndall tried to make out the expression on the woman's face. 'You know don't you?'

'Yes. I go get her.'

He stood in the darkness, staring up at the scudding clouds and the sheets of lightning illuminating the great expanse of sky.

Olivia appeared, a wrapper clutched around her shoulders. She spoke quietly. 'How bad is it, John? Where is he?'

'It's bad, Olivia.'

'I want to know, John. What has happened to Conrad?' Her voice rose.

'He's dead, Olivia. Killed on the street. It was quick. I doubt he knew anything ... Oh, Olivia ... ' He stretched out a hand towards her.

A choking wail was stifled as she clutched the verandah post, hiding her face in her arms. Tyndall reached her as she lost her grip and slid to the floor. Gathering her in his arms, he sat on the verandah step holding the sobbing, shaking woman, wishing he could somehow lessen the pain that wracked her slim body.

He finally picked her up in his arms and took her through the house to the spare bedroom, where he laid her on the bed. As Minnie hovered around them, Tyndall directed her to bring a brandy. Sitting patiently by the bed as Olivia sipped the brandy, he answered her questions honestly, not softening any details. When Minnie brought in the doctor's medication she swallowed it as directed.

Then Olivia lay back in the bed and whispered, 'I have to make Hamish understand.'

'Tomorrow, Olivia.' He took her hand and smoothed her hair back from her forehead.

The pills gradually took effect and she drifted into a nightmarish sleep, though her grip on his hand never lessened. Several times she cried out in her sleep. After one of these cries of anguish Tyndall slid onto the bed beside her and gathered her in his arms, rocking and soothing her as he murmured words of comfort, but she barely registered his presence in her drugged state of shock.