Batavia Shores

By Ken F Stewart

Batavia Shores is the long-awaited sequel to Devlin Pool. It again follows the two Geraldton detectives, Barney Merrick and Zep Marcon, as this time they try to unravel the mysterious torture and murder of a used-car dealer. Issues that confront them include gunrunning, drug importation, and international terrorism. Concurrent to their investigation is the feud between two Aboriginal members of Mid-West tribes, woven into the middle of the hectic local football season.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jul 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499011425

Ken F Stewart

Kenneth Frederick Stewart was born in 1948 in Perth, Western Australia, and grew up in the suburb of Cottesloe. He is now a retired teacher after forty-two years in the classroom, twenty-five of those as the Head of Mathematics Department in senior high schools. Ten years were spent in Geraldton, and during that period, he was a senior goal umpire for the GNFL. He now lives in Balcatta in Perth. Ken runs a separate web page for his family history research with KITTO as a one-name study. He is a keen body surfer and bush walker.

Book preview

Part I

Chapter 1

DEATH AT SEA—OCTOBER 1720S

You’re cheating, the crusty seadog declared vehemently in his raspy breath. His opponent glanced up furtively, not daring to look anyone in the face.

The four crewmen had gathered in secrecy in the ship’s galley to take part in a game of cards. The captain, Niels de Rooy, had very specifically banned the playing of these devil’s games because his religious convictions opposed them. He also believed that it was a waste of the energies of the crew and in the past had seen harmless card games in taverns that had ended in violence. The crew in their downtime should be sleeping, reading the Bible, or making something with their hands, scrimshawing or whittling or the like, or, even better—mending sails, making nets, or splicing ropes.

The four were seated in a quiet corner of the galley, where the gangway could be continuously observed for the arrival of any officers. When the need arose, the cards could be quickly whisked away. The game was just a simple game of Ruff and Honours, a variation of Whist.

The sailors had used up their meagre supply of cash and were now wagering the money from their forthcoming pay. Each pair was gambling on scoring more points than their opponents. The combination of the tall, wiry Karl Dekker and the stocky Andro de Wit, two top-mast men, were up against the scrawny Rutger Van der Linden and pudgy Ditmar Mesman, both the cook’s helpers and general servants. In the previous few weeks, the lower-deck men, Rutger and Ditmar, had been gaining the ascendancy over the upper-deck pair of Karl and Andro. They were almost a week’s pay in front and had been quietly needling their opponents during the day as everyone went about their shipboard duties.

The Dutch East Indiaman, the Gulden Broeck, was twelve days out of Cape Town, crossing the Indian Ocean, driven on by the reliable Roaring Forties from the west. This was a mighty ship of the Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie or United East India Company, usually just designated as the VOC, so the captain was compelled to sail the Brouwer Route to Jakarta. This also required him to travel east, utilising these prevailing strong westerlies for as long as possible, before turning north to be carried by the southerlies up the western coast of Terra Australis. This was a known hazardous route, and at least two VOC ships in the last century had waited too long to turn north and were wrecked on the western shores: the Batavia in 1629 and the Vergulde Draeck in 1656. But it was the fastest route to the spice treasures of the East Indies. The Dutch had a stranglehold over the trading fortune of cloves, nutmeg, pepper, cinnamon, cassia, cardamom, ginger, and turmeric. And time was money.

The accused, Rutger Van der Linden, a small man with rat-like features, looked quickly down again at his cards. He was the dealer for this round and always seemed to have that extra luck with the honours on his deal. His last furtive card flip had aroused the suspicions of Karl Dekker, his tall and sinewy opponent. Karl had called him out, glaring straight at him, his sea-weathered cheeks reddening in anger. The two other partners of the arguing parties both fearfully glanced towards the gangway and hissed for Karl to be a little quieter in case they drew attention to themselves.

U zijn bedrog, Karl Dekker rasped again and reached his strong calloused hands over the mess table to grab and shake the scrawny wrist of Rutger Van der Linden. The gruff roll of his native Dutch accent snarled, I know you are cheating.

From under the wrist, out of the sleeve, an extra card fell into view. Both Karl and Rutger stood up, thrusting back the bench seats on either side of the mess table. With years of precarious working above with sails, the quick reaction of Andro enabled him to grab hold of the table to prevent himself from being propelled backwards, but the overweight Ditmar wasn’t so agile. Both he and the seat toppled heavily to the floor.

Let go, growled Rutger. He smashed across with the scrawny knuckles of his free hand to forcefully strike Karl’s grip from his wrist.

So this is how you have been robbing us for the last month, snarled Andro. You hide an extra honour card so you can claim the extra points on it. He was standing on the same side of the table as Rutger, so a single step thrust him into the personal space of the card cheat. He bent down and glared straight into his face. You are lower than a bilge rat.

This means you will have to pay back all the money you stole from us during the first part of the voyage, seethed Karl from across the mess table, and all other debts are cancelled.

No! Rutger’s slimy voice rang out over the tense table of sneers. We won that all fair and square. It was only tonight that I was messing around with that extra card.

As Ditmar began to sort himself out from the upturned bench, Karl snapped gruffly, You stay there. Keep out of it, unless you were involved.

But… began Ditmar.

And keep quiet, growled Andro.

Ditmar stayed seated on the floor. He was ashamed and disgusted with his partner and could fully understand the intense anger of the other two. He was also furious that all the winnings they were to share could now never be claimed.

You will pay our money back, Andro declared hotly.

I can’t. I spent it on grog and tobacco, smirked Rutger, staring defiantly at de Wit, and then as Andro took a step forward, he began to back away and said in a quavering voice, Get away from me.

Andro reached out and grabbed him by the shirt front and pulled him forward. At the same moment, Rutger swung a left arm across to shake himself free, followed by a roundhouse right fist which connected solidly to the side of Andro’s head. Both stepped apart and reached swiftly for their knives.

As Rutger stepped back, he came within the grasp of Karl, now coming around the mess table in hostile confrontation. Karl, on seeing the drawn knife, moved deftly away from the glinting blade and pushed him aside. Rutger staggered off balance. Andro stepped in and thrust his blade into the stomach of Rutger, who winced with the sudden pain and dropped his knife.

Knowing that his stomach wound was serious, Rutger tightly clutched his belly and staggered to the gangway and slowly climbed up to the deck. Andro and Karl followed. The open deck was rolling with the surge of the following winds. Rutger staggered ungainly forward as he appeared to be making for the officer’s cabins, probably for the ship’s surgeon. The deck was deserted and quiet except for the creaking timbers and flapping sails. Fully realising that they had probably killed him, Andro and Karl purposefully moved in on each side of Rutger. A stomach wound was likely a fatal blow, especially on-board a ship. Together, they covered his mouth, grabbed both his arms, and forced him to the railings. One concerted heave from them, and he was over the side. The heavy swells thudded against the hull. There was no splash to be heard. His vital fluids had drained into his eviscerated stomach while slowly robbing him of life. There was no visible blood to be seen.

Andro and Karl turned in time to see the portly Ditmar cowering with an ashen face at the doorway to the gangway. They cornered him and forced him back down into the galley.

You have two options, hissed Andro, staring him straight in the eyes. You can keep your damned trap shut, or you can join Rutger over the side. Your price will be the cancellation of all your debts, and you will get a quarter of each of our pay at the end of the trip.

Half, demanded Ditmar quickly and brazenly.

You are pushing your luck, snapped Karl angrily. I’m beginning to think it will be easier and safer to put him over the side, he snarled.

No! said Andro. There’s been enough killing already. One accident is enough for this night. Half of each of our pay is agreed.

As the cold wind whistled eerily through the rigging above, the pact of silence was sealed as the three sailors’ calloused palms shook together in a bond forged in fear.

Chapter 2

THE HEARING—OCTOBER 1720S

For the next two days, the Gulden Broeck was hurled eastwards with the relentless strength of the Roaring Forties. By sustaining this reliable speed, they expected to sight land sometime during the next day.

With the strong following wind, the captain had ordered full sail to maximise the breezes. There were times when the ship heeled over in response to a sudden gust that was a little stronger than usual. However, the three-masted Indiaman was purpose-built, a reliable old pachyderm of these waters, robustly designed to take these strong winds and carry big cargoes.

She was also well defended against the likelihood of pirates, both locally in the East Indies and from roving brigands out of Africa or Europe on the way home. With thirty-six cannons and six swivel guns, she could easily match anything. Anything, that is, except ships of the line. In addition, she had a ship’s complement of 200 men that included more than a dozen disciplined and highly trained soldiers.

Deep in the cargo hold on the outward trip sat five boxes of gleaming guilders. With each rolling wave, these riches shifted slightly in their restraining lashings. They were on their way to buying spices, the ultimate prize for which the empire and beyond would pay handsomely. Stowed around them were also general building supplies for the construction of further Dutch East India Company offices and employee residences, more edifices of power of the colonial rulers. The Gulden Broeck’s homeward-bound journey would hold the precious cargo from the Spice Islands. The jewels of the East Indies paid for by the gold and silver of Europe.

*

It was before dawn, when most people are at their deepest sleep, that they came for Karl and Andro. Each was awakened roughly to stare into the barrels of two muskets and half a dozen faces behind the lanterns. With the flickering of the lamp wicks, the faces appeared as demons, glaring ghostly from the gloom, with their shadows dancing on the hull behind. The resonant voice of the bosun, a voice capable of being heard above a gale-force wind, ordered them to get up and turn around. The strong calloused hands of the ship’s carpenter hammered rivets into the heavy iron shackles around their wrists and then onto their ankles.

Both prisoners were roughly manhandled up to the quarterdeck where the first mate, Lieutenant Sven Koening, was on duty. In the hour before dawn, there was a light mist and a slight breeze. The ship creaked ahead slowly. Lookouts on the fo’c’sle up front were those with the best ears as well as eyes. They didn’t want land to find them before they found its treacherous edges.

In the background, watching from behind the first mate, stood Ditmar Mesman. He was not altogether happy to be there, but he was not shackled.

They stood in the dim light, surrounded by four soldiers, as the first mate, Sven Koening, leant over and glanced at the compass bearing and growled, Two points off, helmsman. Wake up, lad. Keep your mind on your job.

Turning to the two prisoners, dropping his tone into a soothing manner, he inquired, Well, boys, what’s your story about Rutger Van der Linden?

What do you mean, sir? stammered Karl in a quavering voice.

Ah, yes, I see it will be Seaman Karl Dekker to speak first, announced Lieutenant Koening. Guards, take Seaman Andro de Wit for a walk down to the foc’sle for a while. I’ll send for you when we want him.

Two of the guards prodded Andro down the steps and across the main deck. He staggered and, with his hands shackled behind, almost toppled, finding it difficult to walk in the leg irons, especially down the gangway to the main deck.

Now talk, Dekker, ordered Lieutenant Koening. A chilly wind blew in from the rear, and Karl shivered as the ship responded and increased in speed.

About what? enquired Karl in an attempt to sound more confident than he actually felt.

The unfortunate death of the missing Mr Van der Linden, prompted the first mate sarcastically. Seaman Mesman has told us of your involvement, so now I want to hear it from you.

Not having the chance to co-prepare any story with Andro, Karl told it as close to the truth as he dared but with enough flexibility to enable the truth to be glossed over.

We were all playing cards in the mess, sir, he admitted and paused for the officer’s comment on the illegal activity. On receiving no interruption, he continued, Rutger was found to be cheating, and a fight started between Andro and Rutger. I tried to stop Rutger by holding him back, but he broke free and fell forward onto Andro’s knife. It was an accident.

How did he go overboard? prompted the lieutenant.

He was in total agony and rushed up onto the deck, staggered towards the railings, and fell over as the ship rolled, was the reply. He didn’t seem to know what he was doing or where he was going.

Why was this incident not reported immediately? probed Lieutenant Koening.

Well, sir, continued Karl, we all knew we would be in serious trouble with the captain. We were playing cards when a friend and fellow seaman died, but since he had disappeared overboard without a trace, we hoped it would not come out. We kept quiet and hoped it would eventually be brushed off as missing unknown.

Guards, take him forward and send back the other man, ordered Lieutenant Sven Koening.

The interview with Andro de Wit proceeded along the same lines. Andro’s story was that Karl attempted to stop the fight, but Rutger turned on him, and as he thrust him away, he was pushed onto the knife. Both men had followed him to try to help, but as they approached him on the deck, he panicked and dived overboard.

Take them both to the brig. They will go before the captain at this morning’s nine o’clock hearings, ordered the first mate.

Chapter 3

TRIAL AND PUNISHMENT—OCTOBER 1720S

At the mid-morning hearings by Captain Niels de Rooy, the first mate presented his summary of the event, with a bias on the original story as reported by Ditmar Mesman. The knifing was deliberate, and the man who fell overboard was, in all probability, assisted. The three men faced the captain, who solemnly enquired, Anything to add?

It was an accident, pleaded Karl Dekker.

No one was meant to die, appealed Andro de Wit.

Both guilty, declared the captain. And Ditmar Mesman too.

He slowly turned to the shocked accuser. Seaman Mesman, you are guilty of breaking the captain’s specific orders about cards. Because of this, a seaman is dead. Your sentence will be the forfeiture of pay for this voyage and your dismissal at the end of the voyage. If you do not behave for the rest of the trip, you will be charged with accessory to murder and hung.

From the top of the mainmast came the faint call that was then echoed by other voices that yelled jubilantly throughout the ship, Land ho! Dead in front.

Tell the quarterdeck that I’m on the way, announced Captain de Rooy to his manservant. But first for you two—hanging is too good for you. You deliberately threw him overboard to cover up your card-game dispute. I sentence you both to be marooned, and I will determine where shortly. With that brief statement, the captain left the three convicted sailors in the charge of the first mate and strode away to take command of his ship. The two wretched prisoners in shackles were forcefully steered back to the brig.

*

The thin profile of the shore that was visible in the distance had the second mate, the specialist navigating officer, reaching for the charts of the known coast of Terra Australis. As the ship drew nearer to the shore, he could make out separate hills, and by their profile, he determined they were near a known promontory. He informed the captain of their location, and the captain just nodded with satisfaction. He already knew approximately where they were. They were exactly on course.

The Gulden Broeck turned north to travel up inside the channel between the coast of Terra Australis and the offshore coral islands where the Batavia was wrecked a hundred years earlier. By staying near the shoreline, the ship could make good use of the land and sea breezes to get a fast run up the coast.

He finally turned his thoughts to the prisoners. He could veer his course seaward and drop them on the uninhabited coral islands where there was a little water and not much else. Or he could veer towards the mainland and dump them on a beach. He discussed the options with the first mate, who recommended leniency, so the ship slightly altered course to starboard and edged towards the mainland.

As they neared the coast, a thin visible reef prevented the ship from getting too near. Karl and Andro were brought up on deck, and each was issued with a pottery jug for carrying water and a knife for butchering game. These and the clothes they stood in were to be their only provisions. As the order to heave to was given, the prisoners were paraded through the bustling crew to the side of the ship, their hand shackles rattling and leg irons scraping the deck. The ship’s carpenter was on hand to hammer apart the riveted shackles before they were escorted down to a longboat and rowed to shore. Captain de Rooy was pleased with the spectacle it made, quite comfortable with the loss of a couple of hours’ sailing time, as it would reinforce his standing orders and enhance his stature as the captain.

Calm water enabled the longboat to negotiate a wide channel between the rocks as they went in and out. Within an hour, the Gulden Broeck was under way again and was sailing away to her East Indies destination.

*

Karl and Andro found themselves on a long white sandy beach. Bordering the beach, for as far they could see, were low gleaming sandhills covered in places with tufts of spiny grasses. They walked along the beach for about two miles, in some places climbing over a couple of brush-covered dunes to bypass a rocky part of the foreshore. The white dunes gave way to pink as the presence of ochre clays coloured the sands. The dunes became darker and more reddish as they went along. When they came to a small stream, they drank sparingly to taste the tepid, almost fresh water as it flowed out between the sandhills. Beyond these arose a bastion of rugged limestone slopes, with their facia tinted a deep red-brown.

They followed the small tree-lined stream inland as it narrowed into a deep limestone valley and then opened into a wider plane. Here, the water was flowing fresh and crystal clear, though there wasn’t much of it. Walking beside the stream, they saw in the distance where the opposite side of the valley had a ridge of solid, large brown rocks. The near side of the valley was quite steep with an overhang part way up, so they climbed towards it to seek shelter from the sun and perhaps later from rain. They would need to plan how to escape from this wide-open prison, or they would slowly perish together amid the nothingness.

From the first moment they had set foot on this godforsaken shore, they were both talking about options. If they walked south, it would be towards a cooler climate, but since it would be in an unknown land, there was a chance that there may be nothing there. They could walk north towards the tropics and hope to reach a place to build a boat strong enough to sail to the East Indies. Or they could try to construct a raft here from the limited timber and use it to travel up or down the coast. These thoughts permeated their minds as they climbed up the steep side of the valley.

The overhang which promised shelter revealed even more. There was a deep cave, and in the gloom inside, they could see that it had been previously inhabited. The walls were daubed with ochre paintings. There were stick-like men with spears, hunting large two-legged rat-like creatures and ostrich-shaped birds. There were pictures of snakes and lizards and fish dotted all over the wall. In places, there were handprints of many different sizes that seemed to be the signatures of the wall artists. This was definitely a living space, and it showed there was game out there to catch.

*

Three weeks later, a