Counting the Bodies: A Witty Tale from the Unique Detective Agency

By Jenny Paliska

Mary, on her voyage to Australia in 1842, solves a complex murder on board ship.
She does this with support from her best friend Younee who just happens to be a
fl eet footed gremlin who communicates with Mary, telepathically. Their son Stanley,
a gremlin, is born on the ship. Well not really her son genetically but adoption is a
wonderful thing. (Book 1)Th e ship's captain lauds her abilities to the constabulary
in Sydney who now regularly ask her to solve murders the constabulary are unable
to, or in some cases unwilling to solve.

Audrey seeks Mary's expert skills to solve her father's murder. Th eir journey has them fi nding three killers paid to extract information about a gold find thus
sending them to the goldfields to solve his murder. In their quest they are supported
by Annie, a witch, though she says she doesn't talk to ghosts they talk to her.
(Apparently in Annie's mind there is a diff erence.) On the way to fi nd the gold
they gather an entourage of killers, would be killers and men desperate to find gold
to make their own troubles go away. As it must never be divulged that gremlins
exist, Younee and Stanley fi nd remarkable ways to avoid their own detection whilst
keeping Mary and Audrey safe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jul 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499003109

Jenny Paliska

Jenny Paliska grew up in Victoria, Australia. After living in New Zealand for three years she became a Chemistry and Physics teacher in South Australia. She began her writing career with her book ‘Programming Computer Games’. She is now a full time author and her first series: Witty Tales from The Unique Detective Agency, engages the reader with humour, fantasy and the odd dead body. The Survivor Series draws the reader into a world where humanity is in peril and its salvation is not of this earth and with many more dead bodies. The Power of Artefacts Series lures the reader into a world of incredible exploits where nothing is what it seems and yes, there are still more dead bodies. Jenny Paliska lives in Adelaide, South Australia – a place worth living.

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Copyright © 2014 by Jenny Paliska.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 06/20/2014

Xlibris LLC

1-800-455-039

www.Xlibris.com.au

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CONTENTS

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

Part IX

Part X

Part XI

Part XII

Part XIII

Acknowledgements

Dedication

To my children, I hope I inspire you.

Part I

Please be seated, Constable Willows.

Constable Willows followed Mary’s direction to be seated and found himself sitting on a very unyielding chair. Mary knew the other chair to be so much more comfortable, but this information the constable was not privy to and she made sure only those people she wanted to stay for any length of time would finish up sitting on it. Constable Willows was not such a man. He was aging and this in part suggested why he was lackadaisical in his approach to the murder of the young woman which prompted Mary’s expertise being sought. And solve it she would.

He seemed tired and besides this his attitude to life and death also appeared tired. His lethargy was countered by a healthy version of a beer gut which reflected the mainstay of his diet and it appeared to be well at home resting on his midriff. His grey hair had decided some years ago to seek another head to be seen on and when he opened his mouth it appeared his teeth had also followed the way of his hair. Mary, who had positioned him a safe distance from herself, knew the state of his breath was comparable to the sewers and she didn’t envy the women he sought out at the pub.

Thank you, Miss Backwater, for seeing me on such short notice. I am under the impression you have information that may be crucial to ME solving the case.

Mary was in no immediate hurry to provide him with the information he so desperately sought, but his breath reminded her there was some urgency.

You were informed accurately, stated Mary. An angry thought crossed her mind as to how her hard work would allow HIM to solve the murder. She wondered if he would ever admit that she solved this crime all by herself? Mary doubted it. Why would he? He was slothful with himself so she doubted he would actively suggest another should receive the accolades he was brandishing as his own. This was the justice system and it was all Sydney had and it was wise to be on the right side of it. Mary had heard rumours and sometimes rumours were fact that the constabulary were renowned for exacting retribution on those who crossed them.

Younee, overhearing the conversation could feel the angst in Mary’s voice. Two weeks ago it had been an unwise man who came to their establishment and suggested that the victim was to blame for her own death. Constable Willows held outdated viewpoints that Mary could not abide with. It was these antiquated ideas that had motivated her and Younee to make their way to Australia to begin their life in a country less governed by old money and more by common sense, though at times it was hard pressed to find the latter. To her disappointment she could still see the damage old money did to this new world. So young a country to have old money rule it! But Australia being a new world stood a far greater chance of escaping the grappling hooks of old money and she held out hope that they had made the wisest decision in moving to Sydney. She knew she wasn’t taking another ship back to England in any great hurry; the voyage being long, arduous, and full of monotony unless the weather decided they were too bored for their own good. As it stood the move seemed the wisest move they had ever made.

Mary sat diminutively which was easy for her as her build was slight of stature. But her mind wasn’t. It was a powerhouse of thought and ideas and essentially linked to Younee. She wasn’t short or tall, and before she met Younee she was considered thinner rather than slight of build. Not a genetic choice but rather the lack of available food. She was now pleasantly rounded in all the right places. Her face had filled out removing the waif like appearance she once wore. A youthful body and a youthful face framed by her long dark hair that shone in the light of the sun. Her green eyes followed Constable Willow’s every move and he was unnerved by the strength they conveyed as she looked at him.

It was this passion in her beliefs that had Mary and Younee establish the Unique Detective Agency. They had travelled together to Australia and as the voyage was nearing completion, she was asked to utilise her talents and become a member of a group, which Captain Sherrard had convened to solve the murder on board his ship. Aldwin Worthington had succumbed to the ravages of death and it was indeed a complicated murder. There was a ship full of potential killers and the complexity of the murder would have stymied the likes of Constable Willows. Mary had been challenged by this murder but persevered and with her insights into human behaviour and her willingness to seek solutions that were not openly apparent, allowed her and her colleagues to solve it. The captain delighted in the outcome, as he was a potential murder suspect with more than sufficient motive, gave her a rather large stipend for her work. He was free to sail the seas again and Mary had sufficient funds to buy a small residence. One of the other colleagues she had worked with on the murder was the good Doctor Isgar Elsegood. His voyage on the Charlotte was his last and he had come upon this residence at the same time as Mary. Since no other buildings presented themselves for sale, Mary and the good doctor agreed to share the building. Mary having her own physician was quite the novelty until she realised how valuable he would be when it came to reviewing dead bodies. He was skilled as a surgeon on the battlefield and this put him in good stead when it came to pub brawls. Neither one of them had yet to establish a thriving business as they had only been in Sydney for two months, so sharing was easy.

The friendship with the good doctor had netted Mary significant dividends. He had stumbled onto a long lost friend who was related to the cleaner of the local police station being second cousins by marriage and the good doctor was ultimately introduced to the chief constable. This became a valuable association for the doctor in helping him build up his practice, as the police always seem to be around when people were found injured. Regrettably many of these people were either poor or had spent their last penny in the local pub. Regardless of the lack of funds finding its way into his own pocket it was good for business as now the local community had a doctor and they knew where he hung his shingle. Mary offered to buy his provisions until he became established as some of his patients were small children and after the first death of a child, despite the doctor’s medicinal administrations, Mary wanted nothing to do with being a bystander. She wanted to lend a helping hand.

The good doctor introduced Mary to the local constabulary; that being Chief Constable Bailey who quite surprisingly had heard of Mary. Chief Constable Bailey was related to Captain Sherrard. It appeared second cousins by marriage were rife in Australia and Captain Sherrard had presented the Chief with a glowing commendation of her abilities. That was the least he could do. He owed her his future or in the least a good future. With the captain’s validation of her capabilities, Chief Constable Bailey had begun using Mary’s skills to solve some of the unsolved cases. It didn’t seem right to solve those crimes already solved but Chief Constable Bailey was also questioning his current constables’ abilities at solving them adequately. That problem was for another time as the constables needed training and if Mary was as good as Captain Sherrard had suggested he may have found their trainer.

Younee revelled in the naming of the Unique Detective Agency as he had been named by a rather fanciful pair of adults and Younee’s name was an abridged form of unique. He thought, and wouldn’t let his thoughts travel to Mary’s mind, that the agency was really named after himself. This would have provided any other with satisfaction, as surely the bragging rights for having a business named after oneself was rather appealing, but Younee could never be seen by any other. No one would ever know of his existence. Younee was a mere six inches tall or long depending on the direction of his feet, and had met Mary in a lane in England. Mary was dying but didn’t know it. She was dying of starvation and Younee felt noteworthy delight in being responsible for saving her life. Another secret he had kept from her. But what Younee and Mary didn’t know was the fates conspired for them to meet. They would become the parents of a small form of Younee, called Stanley. So Mary was surrounded by young and old gremlins that she adored and would willingly lay down her life for. They were not ordinary animals and should Younee have heard her mind suggest he was an animal he would have been horrified, as he knew he wasn’t. He didn’t know what he was but he wasn’t an animal and he wasn’t a human but he was extraordinary, along with Stanley their son. Stanley was still a small child as he had only been born, more accurately hatched, on the voyage to Australia. They were faster than any known animal hence another reason Younee professed that he was not an animal. He could read Mary’s mind and occasionally another, but not often. And Mary could read his mind and both of them wished Stanley couldn’t read their minds, as parents do not like their children knowing what they are thinking. Younee was thousands of years old which made him a font of knowledge and he was teaching Mary everything he knew so she could thrive under his tutelage. The three of them were closer than any other family unit and they were unique.

The chair with uneven legs brought Mary and Younee out of their reveries. Mary disproved of Constable Willows’ belief that all those who are not men and without money are automatically potential criminals or liars. He may not have said it in those words but that was exactly how Mary saw his version of the young dead murdered woman. His disparaging treatment of her life and death rankled Mary to her core. Constable Willows had been directed by Chief Constable Bailey to seek out Mary’s expertise after he noted the constable’s light-hearted attempt at investigating the murder and it wasn’t until he intervened that the case was treated with the consideration it deserved. Mary graciously agreed to investigate, but many weeks had transpired since the murder of Olivia Burroughs and Mary wasn’t going to let Olivia’s life, let alone her death, be treated with anything but respect. Younee recognised, along with Mary, that this was their opportunity to make an inroad into the world of private investigating. It was unheard of to have a woman undertake such a responsibility so this opportunity might never surface again if they were not willing to oblige the constabulary. Mary said a private thank you to Captain Sherrard—her benefactor.

Mary was only 20 years old and didn’t know her parents and couldn’t remember much of her life before her friend Alverdine took her in and taught her everything she knew about survival. Whatever Alverdine taught her she immediately forgot and chose the opposite course as it had never helped Alverdine who had 6 children by 6 different husbands with each one leaving the moment Alverdine suspected she was pregnant. So in Mary’s reckoning Alverdine was also not overly accomplished in the relationship department. They had lived in a squalid part of London in a very squalid lane that had the worst scrap pieces of timber to make a lean to. Mary considered she was wise in not following in Alverdine’s footsteps. Yet she was a friend who had taken her in when she needed a friend. She had strong memories of Alverdine and how she had helped to shape her life. So with all that behind her it was important to have a birthday on the outbound ship from England since boredom was their worst enemy. It was felt that birthdays would have a measure of excitement for them all and it was embarrassing for Mary to admit she didn’t have one. Obviously she had been born but without knowledge of the date. With Younee’s help they had duped the other passengers and crew into seeing her as a young woman; beautiful and well dressed. Mary was not well dressed but Younee could concentrate his mind and all those who looked upon Mary saw a beautiful woman. Yes, Younee had changed Mary’s life.

When Mary came across Younee, besides her physical world changing dramatically, he opened her mind to other possibilities and the right to have passion to fight for what she believed in. Their friendship blossomed and within days they were connected in a way that no human relationship could be compared to. Mary assumed he was a he and as he had decided he should be and until proven otherwise he was a he. When Younee was given the undertaking of giving life to a small and helpless creature he accepted it with grace. At least that was what Younee and Mary had told Stanley their son. It wouldn’t do to tell Stanley they were terrified of him and only undertook this duty as Younee was the only other gremlin in the world the others could find. If they had known the fear Younee faced at the task in hand they may have continued searching for another gremlin. So Younee and Mary quite ungracefully brought young Stanley into the world, on the voyage to Australia.

Constable Willows may have been sitting facing Mary but he wasn’t aware he was facing the combined efforts of three gifted beings: Mary, Younee and Stanley.

Stanley, being an infant, was smaller than Younee’s six inches. They concealed themselves either in Mary’s pockets or on her shoulders under her cascading hair. They could move at an accelerated pace and this had saved Mary’s life on numerous occasions. But their most spectacular ability was to communicate with Mary without speaking. They could mentally have a three way communication and never move their lips. This was an investigator’s dream.

Constable Willows faced Mary as she began to speak, his breath trying hard not to be offensive. It wasn’t possible.

Constable Willows, you indicated that Olivia Burroughs had been having an affair with Mister Lawrence Baker.

Constable Willows nodded.

I am going to repeat the steps and reasoning to you so that when you report to Chief Constable Bailey he will be impressed by your aptitude in solving crimes.

Really, thought Younee, "Aren’t you wanting Chief Constable Bailey to recognise your talent not his. He already knows Willows is incompetent."

Younee, I think it is important that our predilection for solving crimes does not go unnoticed but we need the money and if getting the money means Willows looks good then so be it. Surely Chief Constable Bailey knows he is incompetent or he wouldn’t have sent him to us.

Ah, Younee replied. There would always be a rock-solid reason for her actions he thought.

Mary concentrated on Willows and removing him from her office as fast as feasible as the stench from his breath was increasing in intensity. You spoke to Mister Lawrence Baker about his relationship with Miss Burroughs and he informed you that he didn’t have a relationship with her at all. Apparently from his point of view Miss Burroughs exaggerated his fondness for her. Is that correct?

Well yes! Constable Willows spoke slowly as he wasn’t sure how large a trap Mary was devising for him.

She had been his maid for some time; is that correct? continued Mary.

Well yes! Willows could feel the tug of the trap and he was powerless to fight it.

I understand, the reason you know that he had a fondness for Miss Burroughs was her friend the upstairs maid was the person who reported her missing, as well as telling you they were intimate.

Yessss that is correct, he replied slowly.

You interviewed Mister Baker and he encouraged you to believe that was not the case. Could it have something to do with the amount of whisky he plied you with on that night?

I doubt it. I had already made a decision he had nothing to do with her murder before I began drinking.

That is so important, replied Mary sarcastically. Her body had been dumped in the bush behind the home. Is that correct Constable Willows?

Well yes. Constable Willows was already tiring of the game she was playing but he had no choice. He needed the information that she had already acquired and by her demeanour she had already solved the murder.

So I take it you didn’t ask the other staff to corroborate his story?

Well I didn’t need to. He is a gentleman and wouldn’t lie.

"Don’t Mary, Younee warned. Do not kill him for being stupid. We need the money, not you in goal."

Mum don’t go to goal, begged Stanley. Mary, new to motherhood, was aware her thoughts were causing Stanley some grief and contained herself.

Stanley I am not going to goal, she replied gently. Not for a second did Constable Willows realise the three of them were having a conversation mentally.

She turned her attentions to the fool before her and spoke crisply. Well, I went and spoke to other staff and they made it quite clear he was intimate with her for a very long period of time. This was a lie, as they were all too scared to admit to his dalliance with her. Mary had made a compromise and promised the housekeeper that she would suggest that he did have a relationship with Miss Burroughs, but the housekeeper was not the one to confide in Mary. This Mary did systematically to all staff of the home and acquired quite the scenario about their affair.

He toll me that his knife was missin’ and had reported that to the housekeeper a week bu’fore her deaf.

It always amazes me that a man would know his knife was missing when it had been placed in a drawer full of knives. It makes me wonder how he would know it was missing as he wasn’t one to go poking around drawers for anything. Do you have any idea on how he might have known it was missing?

"Not those kinds of drawers," suggested Younee to Stanley.

"Younee behave, this is serious business and not in front of Stanley," snapped Mary whose mind was busy with intricate details.

"It’s okay mum. I don’t know what dad meant. What did you mean dad?"

"Be quiet Stanley," insisted Younee who was busy listening to Mary again.

Did Mister Lawrence Baker mention to the housekeeper there was a thief in their midst. No he did not. Did he mention to the housekeeper that things had not been put away adequately? No he did not. So, Constable Willows, how did he know his knife was missing unless he was the one who threw it away, after he stabbed her?

He might have done that but he said he didn’t. He toll me that the gardener’s son was acting suspicious on the day she disappeared.

Did he now! And why was he acting suspicious Constable Willows?

He had blood over his pants and shirt.

Did you interview the gardener’s son as to why he might have blood covering his clothes?

No need as Mister Baker said the gardener did it.

What proof did Mister Baker provide for you?

He said he saw him in the bushes behind the ‘ouse and when he came into the back garden he was covered in blood.

When you arrested this young man did he tell you he didn’t do it?

Constable Willows gave a short burst of laughter which allowed more breath to escape, an unpleasant event for Mary, who decided to speed things up a little. The forced hacking and coughing from two little gremlins made her smile inwardly.

Constable Willows stated amidst a small chuckle, the gardener said it was chicken’s blood and he was killing them for the cook.

Did you ask the cook?

No need to. Cooks always kill the chickens. They like to do it, he said with a glint in his eye. Me ma toll me that you have to kill chickens in a particular way and it would be important for the cook to do it right.

I am pleased you understand the nature of culinary service. So you didn’t interview the cook and decided the gardener’s son was lying."

Cooks don’t lie. Me ma is a cook and she don’t lie.

So, because your mother doesn’t lie this cook didn’t need to be asked. You have made many assumptions about Miss Burroughs’s death. Did you examine the body for any evidence?

What evidence? I examined the body to find what kill her. There was a knife sticking out of her gut and that toll me she was stabbed.

It was a most fortuitous moment that the doctor entered this part of the premises as Constable Willows mentioned the stabbing.

Doctor, asked Mary, Was Miss Burroughs stabbed?

Yes she was, he replied knowingly.

Well done Constable Willows.

This gave great pleasure to Constable Willows and all Mary could imagine was that he was an imbecile who could tell a stabbing occurred because a knife was sticking out of her abdomen.

Well at the least he was right. She thought.

Doctor was there anything else significant to this case that would need to be admitted in a court of law

Why yes Mary. Miss Burroughs was pregnant.

Oh! How could that be? She wasn’t involved in any relationship.

Constable Willows sat quietly for a few minutes as he thought of a plausible reason that would support his theories and interviews, or the lack of them, so far. Maybe the gardener’s son kill her for fooling around. Maybe Mister Baker was mad at the gardener’s son for sleepin with the girl and Mister Baker found out and threatened to dismiss the gardener’s son if he didn’t stop seeing her. Maybe she was mad at him for breaking up with her and he stabbed her. I dunno know!"

I find it hard to believe the gardener’s son would steal a knife from the kitchen on the off chance Miss Burroughs was upset.

It’s not exactly perfect but it doesn’t have to be. Mister Baker said he didn’t do and the gardener’s son did, insisted Constable Willows.

This is what really happened Constable Willows. We interviewed the cook and she said she couldn’t kill the chickens as her hand had been sprained. It had been wrapped up at the time and the cook’s apprentice confirmed this information. The cook’s apprentice was not happy about the extra work she had to do while it was sprained. When I spoke to the gardener’s son, he said the same thing. So it wasn’t Miss Burroughs’s blood at all. So now I have the gardener’s son without a reason to hurt or kill her. I had already found out that Mister Baker did indeed have an ongoing relationship with Miss Burroughs. It had been ongoing for many months. When he found out about the pregnancy he must have been very distraught as he is betrothed and his fiancé is currently travelling to Australia. He had a strong motive to kill her. In his closet we found clothes that had been cleaned by the laundress and not perfectly as blood stains still remained and she indicated that he had hurt himself whilst out riding on the same day. That is what he said anyway. Mister Baker was the only one with motive. Mister Baker relied on your love of whisky to encourage you to look elsewhere. And why not, Constable Willows? Everyone knows that the upper classes do not lie. Mary leant towards him, you need to think differently. The upper classes lie just as well as anyone else. The last words seemed to be attached to some spittle as Mary spat them at him. You will need to release the gardener’s son and incarcerate Mister Baker."

Mister Baker didn’t do it. He promise me. The gardener’s son stays in goal. This was a brave statement from a man who knew he had been boxed into a corner and saw no way out except for bluffing.

I think not, said a voice from behind a door to the back section of the room. Chief Constable Bailey was attached to the voice and as he walked into the room Constable Willows looked as if he might faint.

"Not enough whisky in his stomach I would think at this time," suggested Younee.

Constable Willows you are dismissed from service, empathically stated Chief Constable Bailey. The tone of his voice indicating there would be no room to move on his decision. He was accompanied by another constable who was currently training to investigate murders. He looked young and impressionable and Mary hoped he had learned much from this interview with Constable Willows.

Thank you Mary, Chief Constable Bailey stated. He handed her a small sum of money and when it rattled Mary knew the sound of one coin was not anywhere near as exciting as the sound of more coins clunking together; and in that bag there was clunking.

Constable, remove Willows from these premises, release the gardener’s son from goal and take Mister Baker into custody, ordered Chief Constable Bailey. He bowed to Mary and left quickly. Thoughts of corruption in his jurisdiction assaulted Chief Constable’s sensibilities. Mary had performed her duties admirably. What a clever mind she had he thought.

"I wonder what the gardener’s son’s name was? No one ever said it," commented Younee.

"It doesn’t matter what his name is. He didn’t have a motive. He should never have been a suspect."

"Here! Here!" stated Younee.

"I am hoping Chief Constable Bailey will use our employ further," commented Mary.

"I think it would be wise if he did," replied Younee.

Thank you doctor, Mary stated. She flicked him a coin and kept the other for herself.

He quizzically looked at her.

For completing the autopsy on Miss Burroughs, Mary happily replied.

Anytime! replied the doctor and bowed in her direction and then left to visit some of his patients. If only they would flick him a coin as he was leaving.

Part II

It was an unseasonably cold evening and Audrey pulled her shawl tight and firmly around her arms in the hope the cold breeze wouldn’t chill her any further. The breeze continued to tug at her until she felt she had no choice but to enter the building that stood before her. The alternative was to return to Sydney and she was not one to accept failure. Her determination attempted resiliency and suggested it was better she enter the building than stand in the cold. Audrey took one step closer to the door and waited as if delaying her entry would stop whatever she feared.

Audrey was 22 years of age, slim of build and her long brown hair was braided around her head framing her oval face. Her blue eyes searched the front verandah of the home and her pale skin shone in the moon’s half light. She was dressed as a young woman of England but England was such a long way away.

She had travelled to be with her father but had regretted the very moment she had stood on the deck of the ship that herded her here. It was a gruelling 6 months of deprivation and uncertainty. Until this voyage she had never trodden on the deck of a ship and swore she would never do so again thus sealing her fate never to return to England. She no longer considered she and ships had something in common. She had suffered from every conceivable ailment possible, but it was the motion sickness that never tired of haunting her, sapping her strength, her fortitude and at times her willingness to live. She had decided she had fed more fish than was deserving of her meals. With no inclination to travel by ship again she was attempting to adapt to living in Australia but even that seemed overwhelming.

Her father had built this home, which stood squarely in front of her, and she regretted she had never had the occasion to live one day in it. It was an old building by Australian standards and was built in the early 1800s, in Sydney, when the good folk of England made their way to Australia with convicts and stores in ships laden for the voyage. Some of the earlier ships carried the furniture and windows that now adorned this building. The home took many years to build, as you never knew what you were going to get when you were given convicts to use as labourers. Some were skilled and others worked hard at not working hard so progress was slow. The building was three storeys high and some said unrealistic in stature for such a new settlement. But it was built with the owner determined to ensure his home stood prouder and of course taller than all those around him. If the truth were known, the owner was determined to stand out in society and his new home would give him that status. If he had truly thought about all of that, in hindsight he would have realised he was already a beacon of society. Most of the population of Australia was either in a prison or guarding them. As he was a free man he was already in a minority. In his mind that made him royalty and that was how he expected to be treated by those around him. He quickly adopted a name he felt befitting his prominence in this new land and without others to disagree he flourished as Lord Middleton. As others in this new land heard of his audacity, they too, the moment they felt they reached a financial pinnacle, chose names a little more grandiose than mister. Some thought this a little presumptuous but if you didn’t possess the money it was difficult to argue the case and so in this new land, new and old money blended with new money becoming very desirable. With England so far away and a return voyage taking perhaps a year, new money was making lords and ladies as soon as their new money reached a certain amount and finally overpowering some of the influence of old money.

So Mister Middleton became Lord Middleton and his residence or mansion, depending on who you knew, was built. The house doors were beautifully crafted and created a magnificent entrance to his home. The front windows were well proportioned using designs brought from England and the leadlight used consisted of striking coloured glass, illustrating magnificent flowers in a myriad of colours making the house a centre stage against the backdrop of Australian gums and the burgeoning settlement that was Sydney. The governor was hard pressed to have a building any where near resembling the grandeur of this building and so Lord Middleton maintained his status as a lord and enjoyed his status as belonging to Australia’s royalty and a man about town.

He was a man to be treated well, a man of influence and a man who did the jobs needed to be done at whatever the cost. He was an important man who moved in all the right circles and flattered himself at being desirable with the ladies. Some say he kept a count of all his conquests until this game escalated to the point where woman offered themselves so they could be added to his list. This was not the information a young woman wanted to hear about her father but long tongues of jealous people needing to tittle-tattle causing Audrey to become privy to such tales. She believed she handled herself well but her insides cringed at the thought of his indiscretions.

But, her father was not one to flourish in the Australian climate. Regardless of all the accolades bestowed on him and the accolades he granted to himself, all paled into insignificance as his body succumbed to the many trials Australia had in store for him. The insects were appalling and flies even more so. The weather was abysmal for a man who enjoyed the rain and thunder and the snow that fell in small but appealing flurries. All this was a distant memory of his beloved England as he watched the sun and the cloudless skies, and felt the effects of the soaring temperatures. On those days where the sun was relentless, he could be seen sweating profusely and it was by morning tea his demeanour vacillated between, not quite pleasant to absurdly obnoxious. At these times his servants had found numerous tasks to complete either outside the home or in rooms that the sunlight was at its peak to avoid his presence.

Whilst the weather and the torment of the animal kingdom seemed to preoccupy his time, he still ensured his ongoing wealth by having as many fingers in as many pies as was feasible. His funds seemed limitless but so were his desires and the coffers, he called his wealth, which befitted his status and desires, needed refilling, regularly. It was as if the money he accrued disappeared at an alarming rate. He had sheep brought to Australia and had extensive tracts of land with sheep roaming until they were needed for the dining room table. And of course he had his cook promote lamb as an excellent meal and created quite the demand for lamb to be served as the ultimate food; the food of the landed gentry, and of course the food of Lord Middleton. This venture continued to grow and so did the monetary rewards as sheep have a satisfying manner of having multiple offspring and he was once quoted as saying they were better than money in the bank for increasing his dividends.

He had built much needed properties that were leased to the government and as the government’s representatives were willing to have him charge triple, they all enjoyed squandering their ill gotten gains. For any activity that didn’t quite match the definition of legal he had the police do everything he requested as there was always remuneration involved and why shouldn’t they gain from his needs? Their income had to come from somewhere and as the English government wasn’t quite partial to giving them much and the money wasn’t being printed in Sydney yet, there really wasn’t any way to gain any extra so it seemed reasonable to acquire it by any method they deemed feasible. Lord Middleton seemed to have it all. His hangers-on were also happy to have some of it.

But then it happened. Lord Middleton actually died and if he could have looked upon his broken lifeless body it may have taken him some time to believe it could actually happen to him. He had made such an effort to be desirable and wealthy he did not take into account a greater being could actually take away his life.

Lord Middleton’s servants, on the day of his death, walked his mansion and the grounds searching for him. He was found in the basement where he usually enjoyed the coolness that had escaped the heat of the day and he was found there, strangled. There were no visitors that day and all the servants were able to account for their whereabouts during the time that he was supposedly murdered, or was he? And the police were flummoxed. Those in power were grateful for his demise but then questioned their own safety. Who did it? Why was it done? Were they in jeopardy? Then his lifestyle was questioned. Was there a suitor out there and with his vagaries with women, was that his undoing? Without evidence, without a motive that stood taller than the others, without witnesses the police had to distance themselves from the investigation.

This was not England and even though they were overseers for the convicts, the real police in Sydney were in short supply. It was the year 1843 and Sydney was thriving and all manner of person walked the streets and invariably invaded homes. It had to be one of them the police thought. The servants thought differently; nothing was missing. Nothing they could tell at any rate and nothing was out of place.

Audrey heard a noise snapping her back to her unwanted reality. Her breathing seemed so loud and she was sure her heart could be heard many feet away. She attempted to will her body into a soundless figure but she could feel the perspiration of fear gathering across her forehead and other parts of her body and the breeze took revenge making her even colder. She had to move to wrap her shawl even tighter around her, something she was terrified of doing as this activity made further noise; a clear indication she was available for the taking. The night noises were all around her. A bird in the distance laughing out loud making a mockery of her fear and then something raced across her path, the moonlight making sure she saw a large night time creature. The rat stopped and looked to her and smiled and continued on its way. As soon as she knew it to be a rat she calmed but only momentarily. At this rate this foreboding house before her was sure to be her undoing.

Audrey looked to her left, into the bushes, this one act of hers taking enormous determination as another noise heard, terrified her to her soul. It sounded as if a monster was eating its victim. A large animal, taller than herself, looked directly at her whilst chewing its leaves and then hopped away and Audrey’s heart raced harder against her chest. She wanted to scream but the scream was too scared to out in the dark on its own. As she moved closer to the house, even more afraid due to the large beast, if that were possible, small twigs and branches snapped loudly under her feet each time she attempted to move towards the steps leading to the front door. They sounded as if cannons were peppering the night instilling in her an aggravated level well beyond fear that had ushered her into multiple levels of panic and terror.

There were no lights to guide her to the steps. There were no lights inside to welcome her either. Just the dark and it seemed to Audrey that the dark was waiting in ambush for her. What was in store for her when she entered this home was a constant predicament. Audrey’s mind was racing as fast as her heart and then she could hear it. A persistent dull sound and in the momentary still of the night she could sense the sound increasing until something tugged every so slightly at her dress draped along the ground. Audrey had never seen such a beast before. It was long; at least 8 feet of thick slimy eel but she thought eels did not slither across the ground far away from water and Audrey was now transfixed on its movement; too frightened to move; too frightened to make any sound that would alert this beast to her presence. For the moment it appeared to be oblivious to her existence and she watched with morbidly fascinated panic as its slithering action removed itself from her sight. The snake disappeared into the night but Audrey could feel her heart hammering her chest. What else was out there to beleaguer her? Surely there couldn’t be any other manner of beast than already spied?

Yet another noise startled her and she could no longer pursue her ambition to enter the house. Instead she turned and ran to the carriage that had waited impatiently for her to enter the house. Enough was enough. The coachman, more in tune with Australian conditions had warned her not to walk in the dark across to the house and wait until the morrow. Audrey, being more like her father than she intended, had stubbornly ignored the suggestion from one who knew and decided her needs had to be met tonight. Whatever the cost!

The coachman helped her on board and Audrey huddled into the seat in the carriage, grabbing at a blanket in the process. Having firmly tucked herself in, she rested her head on the juncture between two carriage walls. What was she thinking? Why did she have to go tonight to solve a problem that she had no idea about? Her father died. She wasn’t here when he died so what did she expect to achieve on such a night. Tears fell silently down her cheeks and unwilling as she seemed to be to admit it, she was hurting. She was frightened. Tomorrow would be another day. Perhaps the days to follow would help her solve her father’s murder, especially as daylight was her new favourite part of the day.

Audrey had been on the ship making its way to Australia when her father died. There was no warning for her as she alighted from the ship. Instead of being met by her father and feeling his warm embrace, his coachman, in readiness to take her to her father’s manservant, presented her with the tragic news. The manservant had remained in the home until she arrived in Australia and the morning of her arrival, after he ensured she knew about Lord Middleton, vacated the premises. He doubted she needed a manservant. The other servants had already been dismissed and found alternate employment with her father’s friends and acquaintances. Audrey would arrive at her father’s residence alone and remain alone until she could find other servants.

Sydney did not possess a workforce of accomplished servants and when her father died it was the perfect time for others to persuade his servants to work for them. It was going to be extraordinarily difficult for her to find others to employ. The governor noting the rapid loss of servants from Lord Middleton’s residence knew how to help Audrey. This was an emergency, the governor could not imagine a beautiful woman from England, of old money, would be required to launder her clothes let alone wash her dishes. The governor eager to help as he was a bachelor, had also noted the decided lack of women in Australia and as England kept sending many