Published: 06 Mar 2017

If Sid Barnes’ intentions on the night of Esca’s visit were to humiliate the lad into leaving town, he was gravely mistaken. Instead it strengthened Esca’s resilience, now Barnes had lost the moral ground, if he ever had any, making it most difficult to confront the kid with confidence at a later time.

As for Esca his decision was to face the man honestly and proudly. Polite but not sarcastic, being careful not to give reason for further retaliation but it was a certainty he would never again visit the Sergeant’s hotel room.

Luke’s approach to the incident was with much humour, declaring he would have given Barnes a swift kick in the balls; a most appropriate suggestion but one that would not have improved the situation. Once more suggesting they leave town and not return. Esca would have that day except he believed that in doing so; many people would consider his departure their victory. Instead he would show himself to the town, walking tall along its streets, his head high, a diktat of pride – I am Esca Brody, this is my town and I’m here to stay.

“Tell you what Luke have you ever had a beer in a pub?” Esca asked. Luke had not. “Come on I’ll shout you a beer, which pub the Royal or the Railway?”

“The Royal,” Luke suggested, for no other reason than he was given a choice.

“Nope we will go to the Railway, its Barnes’ drinking hole and seeing me there may worry the fat bugger.” Esca, throwing caution to the wind, interjected, although it was possible such an encounter may have an adverse effect, bringing the heavy boot of corrupted law down on him. Barnes was not the man to corner, if so he would always win.

“Do you think that’s a good idea seeing he has it in for you?”

“Probably not but I’m in that kind of mood, besides I’ll have to face him sooner or later.”

Entering into the Railway Hotel bar they found it almost empty. Barnes wasn’t to be seen. It was well past three in the afternoon and the policeman would usually not arrive until after four. In a corner close to the open door, seated under a stationary ceiling fan and almost lost in shadows was Don Tucker. A jockey of a man, his face withered from excess sunshine and the passing years. His hat, because of his slight structure, appearing three sizes too large, while his grubby once white shirt opened to the chest, displayed a mass of blotched wrinkled skin and greying hair. Tucker nodded as the two approached, not out of recognition but of habit to do so towards anyone who chanced to enter. He would lift his glass towards any new arrival, smile, nod his head and announce loudly ‘g’day nice weather eh,’ even if were pissing down with rain, or the heat of the day was baking everything to a crisp.

At the far end of the bar three farmers were lost in conversation on cattle dip, the national economy and obligatory the continuing hot weather. The heat was relentless and continuing, becoming the worse summer in living memory, with the experts continuously broadcast the fact, blaming everything from farting cattle to dirty power stations but never the fact that the world was drowning in people.

Bruce the barman was new to the town but not to the outback. He had worked bars from Mareeba to Melbourne, from Broome to Brisbane and pulled a perfect head of beer every time. He was everyone’s friend with a shed full of stories and anecdotes He was a tall man with mop-like pitch black hair, a long face with small blue eyes that seemed to soften his gruff voice.

“Good afternoon gentlemen, Bruce Alistair greeted from behind a large polishing cloth and a tray of sparking beer glasses.

“Two beers please Bruce.” Esca ordered.

The barman hesitated, his eyes on Luke bringing up the rear behind Esca.

“He’s eighteen Bruce.” Esca gave guarantee reading the barman’s eyes.

“Only just I bet.”

“True,” Luke agreed arriving beside Esca at the bar, somewhat nervous and feeling more like a prostitute on her first job.

“Two beers then,” Alistair repeated still holding his doubt on Luke’s age. “You do realise that Sergeant Barnes drinks here and will be in soon.” The barman warned.

“The Sergeant will vouch for me.” Luke promised.

Some minutes into their drink Henry Wallace arrived with a client to celebrate a sale. It was his first in a month and in his opinion worth top shelf scotch. At the bar he noticed Esca but didn’t speak, more out of association with his Four King partners than having a problem with the lad. Alistair reached for the Scotch bottle from the glass shelved mirrored wall behind the bar, while Esca’s eyes followed the barman’s hand. As he did so the label of the adjacent bottle caught his eye, the colour silver glinted in the light as the bottle moved creating a flash of memory.

“Now I remember where I saw it.” Esca declared quite loudly. His eyes still fixed on the bottle’s silver label without realising Barnes had entered the bar and was standing behind him.

“What are you doing in here?” Barnes demanded of Luke without acknowledging Esca’s existence.

“I am eighteen.” Luke protested.

“Maybe so but your parents wouldn’t agree with you drinking, or the company you keep.”

“Good afternoon Mr. Barnes.” Esca greeted. The policeman didn’t answer. He received his double scotch and joined Henry Wallace.

“What was it you remembered?” Luke asked once the Sergeant was out of hearing.

“I’ll tell you when we go home.”

Once home Esca became quiet. It was obvious he had something to tell but how to do so was a problem. He was mulling over what he had remembered and if it were fact or his imagination. Eventually he was ready.

“Do you remember old Mrs. Townsend who lived in the big house at the end of this street?” Esca asked.

Luke did remember, declaring the old lady to be a distant relative on his father’s side but could not see the connection between her and his friend’s present mood. He also recollected Amy Townsend had been one of the people who recently sold her house and left town. Reluctantly selling cheaply through Wallace Agencies after much insistence from Wallace she would not get a better price.

“Well hers was one of the houses robbed just before she sold to Wallace and when I was in Barnes’ room I saw a silver bowl with his keys in it. I reckon it’s the same bowl that I had seen in Mrs’ Townsend’s hall.” Esca appeared positive and unswayable.

“Maybe it looks the same.” Luke disclosed.

“No it’s the same one for sure. I remember its design from when I was a lad. She was a good friend of mum’s and I often visited her house. She kept lollies in it to give to the kids.”

“Maybe she sold it, or gave it away.” Luke was attempting to relate the simplest reasons but Esca’s mind was firm.

“She wouldn’t, she loved that bowl. It belonged to her grandmother and was brought out from England or Scotland or somewhere.”

“Then how do you explain it ending up with Barnes?”

“I can’t but then again I recon I can. I believe Barnes is somehow responsible for the robberies around town. I often saw him talking to Hutton and their conversation didn’t seem to be police matters.” As certainty gripped Esca’s belief, it as quickly diluted. “Maybe you’re right she may have given it away or sold it. I don’t know and does it really matter. Maybe I’m looking for revenge eh.” Esca gave a long sigh and complained about the heat.

“What are you going to do about it?” Luke asked.

“Do about what – the heat?”

“No dum-dum the information about the bowl.”

“I suppose I could at least let Constable Payne know.”

“Can you trust him; you know how cops protect each other.”

Esca thought for some time before declaring his trust in Payne, as the Constable had spent much of his own time attempting to solve the robberies. Besides he wouldn’t accuse Barnes outright, more as an innocent receiver of stolen goods.

Letting Payne know about his suspicions wasn’t as easy as Esca imagined it would be. He didn’t think it wise to be seen talking to the policeman in the street for any length of time and he couldn’t approach him at the station with Barnes in attendance. Esca was commencing to feel silly, feeling like some school child out of an Our Gang book, with more nuisance value than valid information.

It was some days before Esca chanced upon Payne while he, as it was often called, showed police presence around the business end of town. The Constable was talking to Tom Jackson from the shoe shop when Esca passed. Walking some distance on he paused, pretending to be window shopping, waiting until Payne finished conversation with Jackson. It took an age and Esca become quite fidgety. Finally his actions caught the policeman’s attention. Excusing himself from conversation with the Shoe-man, Payne approached Esca.

“Afternoon Mr. Brody,” Payne greeted. Esca continued to gaze through the shop window. As Payne came to his side Esca spoke without lifting his head.

“I need to talk to you in private without your Sergeant knowing.” Esca declared, his words almost a whisper.

“What is it about?” Payne asked in his deepest policeman’s voice.

“In private, come around home when you’ve finished your shift.” Once spoken Esca moved away, leaving Payne confused. The policeman in Payne told him to follow the lad and drag the information out of Esca, word by word and there on the street but why didn’t he wish Barnes to hear what he had to say. That caught Payne’s interest. With hands on hips he watched as Esca turned the corner at the Green Grocery, still mulling over what the lad had to disclose.

Payne arrived at the Brody house just before sundown. Knocking loudly he was greeted by Luke, “Esca’s expecting you – he’s out the back, I’ll call him.” Showing the Constable into the kitchen, Luke called through the rear door. Esca arrived moments later, his hands covered in grease from working on the car.

“So you’re a mechanic.” Payne asked.

“Have to be, can’t afford a real one but I get by with the manual and Luke’s expertise in everything. He winked at his friend. “Want a beer?” He offered washing the grease from his hands. The policeman declined, thinking if it were Barnes he would have asked for one and not wait for the offer.

Once seated Payne again asked what Esca had on his mind. Soon Esca related his story about the silver bowl and that he believed it would have been stolen as Mrs. Townsend would never sell or give it away.

“Are you sure it’s the same bowl, there may be others like it.” Payne asked. Esca was now certain and said so. As he spoke he could see interest build in the eyes of the policeman, although he had little to say on the matter he was obviously thinking a lot.

“You do realise that on its own it isn’t proof. Sergeant Barnes could give you a dozen reasons how he came by the bowl, all of which would be quite plausible.” The Constable explained. Yet in his own mind he was building a case of guilt against his Sergeant but could not say so to a member of the public.

“I understand that but I felt it my duty to at least bring it to your attention. Besides in my opinion Sergeant Barnes was a little more than friendly with Hutton.” Esca answered.

“Are you sure you’re not doing so in revenge against the Sergeant, I know you two don’t get along.” Payne asked.

“There is probably a bit of that but I’ve heard too many stories about him not to say something.” Esca answered honestly.

“One last thing Mr. Brody, for me to do anything I would need much more proof and even then I may not be capable of doing anything. You know what the force is like with whistle-blowers but I promise you I will keep what you have told me to myself and will look further into the matter.” Payne explained. Collecting his hat he stood to leave, “and I don’t want you going off half cocked alright?” Esca agreed. With that the policeman bid good evening and left, repeating his warning as he departed. Again Esca agreed.

“What do you make of that?” Esca asked of Luke once they were alone.

“I believe he will look into it. Payne seems like a trustworthy bloke.” Luke surmised.

“Hope so; if he tells Barnes I shudder to think what he would do. I may end up like Hutton behind the Council sheds.” Esca felt a chill cross his body and gave a slight shiver.

“Do you think it was Barnes who did Hutton in?” Luke asked.

“Could be, if Barnes and Hutton were in of the robberies and Payne was onto Hutton, who knows what Barnes would do to protect himself.” Esca candidly declared.

“Na, Barnes wouldn’t have the bottle to murder someone. Maybe Rob them blind but I can’t see him actually killing someone.”

“Maybe you’re right but I still hope Payne keeps his promise.” Esca concluded, regretting he had ever seen the silver bowl or shared his knowledge with Payne.

The information interested Constable Payne greatly. He still wished to see the bowl for himself but first he would need to contact Mrs. Townsend for particulars on her supposed lost property. Was it stolen or had she sold or given it to someone. There was always the possibility she had given it to the Opportunity Shop and the Sergeant got it from there.

How difficult would it be to obtain the woman’s change of abode, as she left town soon after the sale. The Post Office most probably would have it but how could he ask without his Sergeant finding out. He seemed to have eyes and ears all over town. There was the woman’s neighbours surely they would know, again how could he ask without good reason. Then there was the silver bowl, he would need to see it. Barnes had never invited Payne to his room and he couldn’t think of a reason why he should visit his Sergeant there. Certainly it all would take time.

The following morning Barnes asked Payne why he was talking to Esca Brody outside the shops. Payne made some excuse the lad was acting somewhat suspiciously, which was actually true but how did Barnes know the two had met.

The whole ordeal was making the young officer nervous.

“I thought he was acting suspiciously.” Payne explained.

“Good I’m pleased you’re keeping an eye on the little bugger.” Barnes accepted Payne’s reasoning with a satisfied smirk.

“How did you know I was talking to Brody?” Payne asked out of further interest, realising Esca had reason to talk in private.

“Fred Jones told me. He saw you through his shop window.”

“Jones is on the Council with Fraser and Wallace,” Payne paused, “and Kenny,” He continued.

“They are and good blokes the lot of them – salt of the earth; Why?” Barnes asked somewhat wary.

“No reason, just trying to get a feel for the town.”

“I was under the impression you were ready to apply for a transfer closer to home?” Barnes asked.

“True but while I’m here – you know the job and all. Besides I will have to impress you to get a good report eh?” Payne gave a forced laughed but didn’t receive an answer.

During the afternoon while on road patrol, Constable Payne had time to think about Esca’s information and the four Councillors. Could they be the Four Kings Company? Their position with the Council gave them much needed information and Wallace being the Mayor as well as the Estate Agent, would have plenty of scope when it came to houses for sale. They would also know in advance about the reopening of the mine and return of the rail service, while all four were quite wealthy and always meeting outside of Council business. As for his Sergeant, where did he fit into the picture? A friend and colleague, or was he something more sinister? Had Barnes been the go between, applying a little muscle through Hutton to encourage quicker sales at lower prices? And did he have something to do with Hutton’s demise. It all seemed somewhat far-fetched but Payne was beginning to like the idea. Still all he had to work on was Brody’s silver bowl and how it came to be in his Sergeant’s possession. Maybe by proving its authenticity the rest would fall into place.

After his shift on the following day Payne once again approached Esca under the pretence of follow up on the robberies. Once inside Esca enquired if there had been any progress. Payne admitted there had not been but had a favour to ask.

“I need to obtain Mrs. Townsend’s new address and can’t enquire around myself without causing suspicion. My Sergeant seems to know everything I do.”

“How can I help?” Esca asked.

“Do you know her neighbours?”

“Old Mrs Smith, they were best of friends.” Esca admitted.

“Would she know Mrs. Townsend’s new address?”

“I should think so.”

“Alright could you approach the woman and when you find out the address, give me a call at the station after four, the Sergeant should be gone to the pub by then.”

It took a few days to obtain Mrs. Townsend’s address, firstly Molly Smith wasn’t home then she couldn’t find where she had placed the envelope with the address. Eventually Esca was successful and contacted the station from the corner telephone box.

Unfortunately Barnes was late leaving for his afternoon stroll to the Railway Hotel and answered the telephone. Esca gave a gasp and rang off. Leaving his recall for a good half an hour he managed to find the Constable alone.

On his way to the hotel Barnes thoughts drifted back to the missed telephone call, he had attempted to ascertain the caller through the call back number but it wasn’t a home number. Who could it be? He had an aversion towards prank callers and there were often many. Town Kids seem to get a kick out of doing so but this one was different. It appeared to have purpose and the gasp was almost enough to give recognition. He knew that voice but for the present could not place a name to it but was certain it would sooner or later come to him and he would act accordingly.

Constable Payne was satisfied, he had contacted the Townsend woman who was adamant the bowl was stolen and of the missing items was the one object she most dearly wished returned. One added piece of fortune, she was in possession of a photograph of the bowl and would send it to him, declaring she lacked knowledge of computers but her nephew could send it in an Elect-mail or in her words, something like that. Payne smiled at her terminology and thanked her for her assistance.

With the photo of the bowl in his possession Payne once again visited Esca. “Is this the same bowl you saw in Sergeant Barnes’ room?” He asked displaying the photograph.

“Yep that is it.” Esca declared with certainty.

“Again are you a hundred percent sure?”

“One hundred, it’s the same bowl.” Ester declared dogmatically, “was it given away or stolen?” Esca asked.

“Yes it was stolen but I don’t think I should tell you more, it may be dangerous for you.”

“That’s fair enough.” Esca agreed.

Payne rubbed at his head and hissed air through closed teeth.

“Well I’m not sure where to go from here.” He admitted.

“Whatever you do is alright with me, I don’t want you getting into trouble or loosing your job.” Esca sympathised.

“I appreciate that but unfortunately I will have to at least follow it through to some conclusion but what that will be I don’t know.” Again Payne’s strict abidance to the letter of the law was troubling him and couldn’t sweep the matter to one side. He would think of a way to visit his Sergeant in his room no matter how long it took.

Placing the photograph back into his pocket Payne admitted his disappointment. It was always bad when a police officer became corrupt, especially one of rank. Still he must see the bowl for himself. Not that he mistrusted Esca’s word but the lad’s enmity towards Barnes may have created a false identity.

The opportunity to visit Barnes at the hotel came some days later in the guise of the station’s mail delivery. Ralph Withers the postman had delivered the station’s mail to the front desk with his usual witticism and good humour while the Sergeant was somewhere to the rear of the station. His heavy footsteps echoing back across the timber floor as he made his way towards the front desk.

Barnes liked to be first to the delivery, as his private mail also came to the station and not to the hotel. Glancing down at the small pile of letters Payne notice one item was address personally in freehand to Barnes. He could hear the Sergeant’s footsteps now close behind as he quickly pushed the envelope away from the pile under some correspondence.

“Did I hear Ralph with the mail?” Barnes asked peering over Payne’s shoulder at the collection of envelopes.

“It just arrived.” Payne answered pretending to be as uninterested as possible in the delivery. Barnes collected the pile of envelopes, flicking through them he grunted and returned to his office, closing the door behind. Moments later the Constable heard Barnes arguing on the telephone. He thought he heard house sales in the debate but could not be certain. Maybe he was now hearing what he wished to hear.

As light of foot as possible, Payne crept towards the closed office door in an attempt to hear more. Only silence. What he hadn’t realised was the sunlight through the windows was casting shadows through the small gap beneath the office door, and as he moved there was just enough motion to catch the corner of Barnes’ eye.

“Do you want something?” The Sergeant barked, feeling somewhat cautious of being overheard. Payne immediately knocked in an attempt to portray he was about to do so as Barnes called. He half opened the door.

“I’ll be off then.”

“While you’re out get me some smokes.” Barnes requested without offering money.

Once Payne had gone Barnes returned to his telephone conversation.

“Are you still there Bill?” He asked of Fraser.

“What was that about?” The Newsagent asked.

“That Constable of mine, I will have to be careful with him, I think he’s on to something but I can’t quite work it out.”

“There isn’t anything to be on to.” Fraser declared.

“I don’t suppose you want the town knowing who is buying the houses.”

“Buying houses isn’t against the law.” Fraser snapped.

“No but forcing a sale isn’t exactly kosher.”

“I thought you said with Hutton out of the way that was at an end.” Fraser voice dipped displaying a measure of concern.

“You’re probably right Bill, but it wouldn’t look good if it were known that I had any connection to Four Kings.” Barnes declared, releasing a long sigh.

“They won’t Sid, your name isn’t anywhere in the documents so how can you be connected?”

Late that afternoon once Barnes had left, Payne retrieved the Sergeants envelope, deciding to deliver it to his hotel room. His timing had to be exact. Barnes would return from his afternoon visit to the pub in time to finish his shift then retire to his room for around one hour before enjoying a free meal in the hotel’s dining room. After this he would frequent the bar, where he would usually remain until closing. Payne must catch him during that hour before he had his meal. He could not reasonably visit after Barnes retired, as the letter would not seem important enough and could be left until the following day.

The hotel’s rear stairs brought Payne nervously to Barnes’ door. He hesitated for some time rehearsing his reason for visiting. Eventually he knocked. It was a loud official knock which quickly brought response.

“Who is it?” The Sergeant’s voice came clearly through the flimsy timber of the door.

“It’s Warren,” The Constable answered. Barnes opened the door, his face red with anger for being disturbed, while believing a problem of magnitude had arisen back at the station, otherwise why would his Constable be calling at his room during the evening.

“What’s the problem?” The door opened wide, allowing Payne to scan the room for the silver bowl, immediately spying it on the table. It was the same as the one in the picture and as Esca had described quite impossible to be mistaken for any other. As quickly he diverted his gaze as he dared not linger but the bowl’s ornate design needed only a glance.

“No problem Sergeant, this came with the morning’s mail and must have slipped under some papers. I thought it may be important.” Payne handed the envelope to Barnes.

“It’s not.” Barnes grunted and placed it on the table next to the bowl. With the Sergeants back to him, Payne once again scrutinised the bowl and was satisfied. “I would invite you in but I’m about to go to dinner.” Barnes gave an insincere smile and closed the door.

Payne descended the stairs, pausing momentarily on the last step while gathering his thoughts.

“It is the same bowl.”

“How did he get it?”

“It must have been from Hutton.”

The Constable took a deep breath and slowly released it. The exhale hissed through his clenched teeth as he gently shook his head at his quandary.

“What do I do now?” Payne asked of himself. He wasn’t a brave man but was afflicted with veracity. “Wait, that is the way, he is sure to trip himself up sometime.” The Constable concluded but his thoughts remained on how Barnes came by the bowl and with each reflection came the name of Hutton.

Finally the only assumption Payne could arrive at was, Hutton being responsible for the robberies, under instruction from Barnes and the Sergeant fancied the bowl but why hadn’t anything else that was stolen surface? Also after Hutton’s demise, nothing from the robberies was found in his room, as there had been a search by Payne for clues relating to his death, while at the same time he searched for stolen goods without letting it be known to Barnes or Hutton’s parents.

That night Payne had difficulty sleeping. Each time he dozed his mind brought him back to Barnes, the silver bowl and Four Kings but his thoughts went in circles, without adding a single new thought but with the morning his concern went. He would take it slowly and if Barnes were guilty he would at some time trip himself.

Gary would appreciate your thoughts on his story. Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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