Malicious Mysteries

By David Vernon

Murder most foul. Ghostly images. A stumped detective. Lost treasure. An icy poltergeist. A lost boy. A skilled taxidermist. They are all here in this malicious collection of mysterious short stories from the Stringybark Malicious Mystery Short Story Award. Twenty-two award-winning tales that will chill your bones and delight your senses are showcased here for your shivery delight.

"It took a long, dirty hour to clean him up. It took a full fifteen minutes just to ease the twigs and leaves from his matted hair and another fifteen to gently pull out the small thorns and prickles that were stuck in his hands and feet. On the verandah they filled a metal tub with warm, soapy water and encouraged the boy in by adding a plastic duck to the bubbles. The men looked at each other, shaking their heads and half smiling as the boy, naked from the outset, climbed in."
— From "Boy" by Tania Favazza

"The madness was with me again last night. It crept up on me and took me to where I don’t belong, a place where I am dangerous and not to be trusted. But you already know that, don't you Sweetie? Now I look around this pitiful room and see the results of what I have done and for that I am truly sorry. You know I love you and even as you lie there entwined in sheets stained and twisted from the night’s events, I still want you. Nothing, not even age, can ever dull your beauty nor the gracefulness of a neck that I have caressed so many times before. What a pity it broke so easily."
— From "Redemption" by Graham D'Elboux

"Further up the shore, past the small dog playing in the sand, Alisha is standing barefoot at the water’s edge. Her silver strapless dress catches the light, holds it for a moment then lets it escape. The dog barks, distracting her from her downward gaze. She lunges towards him, chasing him as he runs playful circles around her. Alisha grabs something silver from the dog’s mouth, changing direction, she runs, full stride, with an urgency only hampered by the tightness of her dress."
— From "The Silver Stiletto" by Su White

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Vernon
• Release date: Dec 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310288272

David Vernon

I am a freelance writer and editor. I am father of two boys. For the last few years I have focussed my writing interest on chronicling women and men’s experience of childbirth and promoting better support for pregnant women and their partners. Recently, for a change of pace, I am writing two Australian history books. In 2014 I was elected Chair of the ACT Writers Centre.In 2010 I established the Stringybark Short Story Awards to promote the short story as a literary form.

Book preview

Malicious Mysteries

Twenty-two award-winning stories from the Stringybark Malicious Mysteries Short Story Award

Edited by

David Vernon

Selected by

Maree Teychenné, Antoinette Merrillees, Rick Williams and David Vernon

Published by Stringybark Publishing

PO Box 464, Hall, ACT 2618, Australia

http://www.stringybarkstories.net

Smashwords edition first published 2013

Copyright: This revised collection, David Vernon, 2018

Copyright: Individual stories, the authors, various.

Some of these stories are works of fiction but based on real people and real events. Unless otherwise made clear (and we are sure you can figure it out), those mentioned in these stories are fictional characters and do not relate to anyone living or dead.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this editor and the authors of these stories.

Contents

Introduction

Boy — Tania Favazza

Death Trap — Stephen Knox

In Ruins — Peter Court

The Sins of the Fathers — Sallie Ramsay

Redemption — Graham D’Elboux

Saint Saturnin — Jane Hendy

A Bird’s Eye View — Pippa Kay

Separation — Stephen Knox

Bewitched by Blue Eyes — Airi Repetti

The Way It’s Always Been — A.K. Guthrie

Killer Instinct — Kerry Cameron

Give Me Your Hand — Charlotte Soares

Forever Yours — Lesley Adams

The Silver Stiletto — Su White

Olivia — Katerina Protopsaltis

Murder, Mayhem and Mystery Inc — David Campbell

Send in the Clowns — Vicky Daddo

Pumpkin Scones — Susan K Sutherland

Class Reunion — Patricia Cation

Stinky Creek — Pippa Kay

Saving Alf — Juliet Blair

Show, Don’t Tell — Susan K Sutherland

The Stringybark Malicious Mysteries Short Story Award

About the Judges

Acknowledgements

Other titles by David Vernon at Smashwords.com:

Introduction

— David Vernon

This book is the eighteenth anthology of short stories from Stringybark Publishing’s short story awards. It consists of twenty-two stories that received highly commended awards (or won prizes) from the judges in the Stringybark Malicious Mysteries Short Story Awards.

Authors were asked to craft a tale that touched on any of the element of a good mystery story — Murder most foul.  Ghostly images.  A stumped detective.  A missing treasure.  A secret relationship or anything other theme along these lines. I think you will agree after reading this collection that these winning and highly commended authors went well beyond all of these dictates and have written stories that deserve a wide audience. Robert Louis Stevenson and Roald Dahl would be impressed with the breadth and imagination shown in these malicious mysteries.

The four judges, Maree Teychenné, Antoinette Merrillees, Rick Williams and David Vernon, read over 100 tales to bring you the cream of the entries. Intriguingly the judges were unable to agree on a first prize winner and thus in an attempt to avoid bloodshed, they awarded two first prizes and a second. See which story you think should have won first prize. Regardless of whether you agree or disagree with the judges there is sure to be a story, or two or more that you will never forget among this great collection.

David Vernon

Judge and Editor

Stringybark Stories

December 2013

Boy

— Tania Favazza

It took a long, dirty hour to clean him up. It took a full fifteen minutes just to ease the twigs and leaves from his matted hair and another fifteen to gently pull out the small thorns and prickles that were stuck in his hands and feet. On the verandah they filled a metal tub with warm, soapy water and encouraged the boy in by adding a plastic duck to the bubbles. The men looked at each other, shaking their heads and half smiling as the boy, naked from the outset, climbed in.

Whose do you think he is? asked Mike, looking intently at the dusty boy.

Phil shrugged and said, The Pembrokes lost a baby … what? ... seven years ago? Could be theirs I suppose. That’s the only kid I can think of that’s gone missin’ ’round these parts.

Looks small for seven, doesn’t he? asked Mike.

Well, if you lived out there on your own you’d be small too.

Nah, I can’t believe it. No kid could survive out there for that long. Even an adult wouldn’t survive for that long. Some folks die after two days in the desert.

Then how do ya explain ‘im? asked Phil.

He ran away from home last night, probably, suggested Mike.

Come on. Look at ‘im. Look at his feet… they look like a black fella’s: broad and tough. Anyway, where would he be runnin’ from? We know all the local kids … nah, it just doesn’t make sense.

Both men leaned against the veranda railing and watched the boy splashing in front of them.

• • •

It was pure luck that they had seen him at all. The two men had just finished fixing a section of the dingo-proof fence running along the Birdsville track when they saw something crouched in the distance.

That’s a kid over there, Phil had said, nudging Mike and pointing. Look, he’s drawing in the dirt.

Looks like he’s been dragged through the bush by a dingo, said Mike. He’s filthy.

They stood there watching him carefully — he was skinny and dusty and as naked as the dry, brown land. Clearly, he was all alone. They couldn’t just leave him behind. The boy was easily tempted by the doughnut Phil held out to him in a paper bag and once he was eating they bent down, picked him up, carried him over to the ute and simply put him in.

Shit, I hope we’re doin’ the right thing, Mike, said Phil as he tried to hold the boy still on his lap. Maybe we shoulda just left him there… ya can’t just put a strange kid in your car and drive off with him, can ya?

Well, we’ve done it now haven’t we?! We’ll call Sullivan and let him know, and it’s not like we’ve hurt the kid or anything. Anyway, we couldn’t let him stay out there all by himself, could we? Jeez, we’d get into just as much trouble for doing that.

• • •

While the boy was bathing on the balcony, Mike went inside to call Sullivan at the station and Phil squatted down by the boy.

What’s your name, fella? he asked, but he was only answered in grunts and splashes. Phil noticed how delicate the boy was; he seemed to have no natural defenses at all, not even caution or fear; he hadn’t flinched when they had picked him up by the fence and Phil thought with some relief that this was a sign that, wherever he might have been, he’d not been mistreated.

When Mike came outside he said, Sullivan is out of town and the Quilpy station will only respond to an emergency. We’ll have to wait until he gets back. Shit, I wish Clorissa was here. She’d know what to do with him. But it was the first Thursday of the month and the first Thursday of the month was when Clorissa and Phil’s girlfriend Megan went out for drinks at the Birdsville Hotel. So with the two girls away it would be up to the two men to look after the child as best they could.

Say he was the Pembroke’s kid, said Phil, picking his teeth thoughtfully. Do ya reckon he’s been livin’ out there all that time?

How do I know? said Mike. I can’t see how, though. He was just a baby.

Someone’s been looking after him. Look how content he is. Kids disappear sometimes, don’t they? But they hardly ever come back, and even if they are found it’s never good. Except this time…

Yeah, well, Sullivan will sort it out I suppose. Find who his parents are, get him back home.

And if his parents aren’t around?

State care, maybe? A foster home? said Mike, shrugging.

Phil looked at the boy and felt a kind of grief. It seemed no ending for such an innocent little kid. Shaking his head, Phil scooped the boy out of the tub and took him indoors.

• • •

What am I going to put on him? asked Mike as he looked for something to cover the boy with. Finally, he settled on a tea-towel wrapped around the boy’s tiny waist and fastened at the back with two pegs. That’ll do, he said, and put the kettle on while the boy explored the lounge room. The men half watched as he pulled the pillows off the couch and spread magazines around on the coffee table. When he spotted Clorissa’s collection of porcelain ducks in a cabinet he started to jump up and down.

Like them, do you? asked Mike, taking them out and passing them to him. The boy grabbed them and lined them up in a row on the floor. Mike and Phil settled on the couch with their tea and biscuits and watched the boy play.

You know, they reckon there are tribes out there, undiscovered by white fellas. Still livin’ traditional lives. Avoidin’ the outside world. I reckon the kid somehow ended up with them.

Come on, Phil.

Well, said Phil defensively. "What if there was a car accident and his folks were killed. Maybe he was flung outta the car and a tribe found ‘im all alone, with no hope of survivin’ by ‘imself. They wouldn’t just leave ‘im there would they? Nah, they’d take ‘im and raise ‘im and that’s why he’s in pretty good nick.