Death on Dangar Island

A Convict Past

Jon rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment on his brother’s invitation.

The professor said he would have to confirm the departure time, but thanked David for the offer, and asked for his mobile phone number.

The three of them passed another half-hour on the balcony in the sunshine. At about two o’clock, Israel checked his watch and made his excuses.

David didn’t get up, but held his palm up and twinkled his fingers. ‘Toodles, Professor. Don’t forget to call me about tomorrow. Remember, your friend is welcome to come along as well.’

‘Thank you, David. I will pass your invitation on to Gary and be in touch later today.’

Jon walked Israel to the door in silence, but recovered himself as he ushered him out.

‘Well, thanks for coming by. I’m sorry to inflict my brother on you. Just bad timing, I guess. I hope the rest of your holiday is more peaceful than it has been up till now. Oh, and if your ramblings ever bring you past my door again, feel free to drop in.’

‘No, I should be thanking you for your generous hospitality and showing me your beautiful home, my friend. I feel honoured. I actually enjoyed meeting David and I’m looking forward to travelling on his beautiful boat.’ He held his hand up in salute and turned to set out energetically down the track. It was time for some food.

As he wandered back down the hill, feeling slightly tipsy, Israel reflected on Jon’s half-hearted invitation to ‘drop in’ again. The man was definitely more reserved in parting than at their first meeting on the footpath. Something about his brother’s appearance had unsettled his host.

Atthe cafe, Israel managed to squeeze in a late order with the accommodating Frankie and was now sipping a sobering long black as he approached a small table in the paved courtyard outside.

‘Where have you been?’ grumbled Gary, checking his watch for the fifth time in less than an hour.

‘Oh, making friends and arranging transport. I thought you may have been tied up at Megan’s for some time. They say the first duty of love is to listen.’

Gary shot him a warning glance. ‘Well, you listen to me, mate. I’ve been waiting here for over an hour. I’ve already had lunch and I’m onto my second coffee.’

‘Does this mean things did not go so well between you two?’

‘Let’s talk about that later. I’m not in the mood, okay?’

Gentle river wash lapped rhythmically against a stone wall nearby. Its splash and the occasional fuzz of an outboard motor felt as intimate and embracing as the view from Jon’s balcony had been grand and expansive.

Israel arched his eyebrows over the rim of his coffee cup and placed his phone on the table between the two of them, grinning. ‘I have some new information from my source. It seems Mitchell Brentwood, the bartender, has spent time in Her Majesty’s company.’

‘Get away!’ said Gary enthusiastically, relieved to be off the hook for now. ‘What for?’

Israel picked up the handset and started flicking. ‘Let’s see now. He has an extensive record: stealing cars, break and enter, two aggravated assaults, possession and distribution of illegal substances and possession of a prohibited weapon. He’s spent time in both Long Bay and Grafton and only finished his last stretch two years ago. He has been a good boy since then though – met all his bail requirements and kept his head down. Quite how he ended up as a manager of a bowling club is a bit of a mystery. I suspect someone owed him a favour. It’s hard to imagine Mitchell’s criminal record making an ideal résumé for a position handling cash, selling alcohol and maintaining poker machines.’

‘Probably leaned on someone from his past to get the manager’s position,’ said Gary. ‘Maybe one of his old mates owns the joint. You reckon your Publicgood could have a look at that? I bet someone dodgy either owns that club or has some kind of connection to it.’

‘Not a bad idea, my friend. I’ll make a note to do just that.’

‘Yep, I’m not just a pretty face, you know. It’s a good thing I pass on all these bright ideas, isn’t it? I know you’d be lost without me, mate.’ Gary’s tone was playful but Israel thought he might be truly pleased. He made a note to acknowledge Gary more often.

Gary shifted his chair. He looked up and noticed Frankie coming out of the kitchen with Israel’s food and bent forwards. ‘Hey, Frankie was telling me those kids with the makeup broke into her shop a few days back …’ He opened his mouth but closed it again as she arrived with the food.

‘There we go. An excellent choice, the ploughman’s lunch.’ She put the plate down in front of the professor, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

‘Thank you, Frankie. It looks delicious.’

She looked at him askance. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t remember your name …’

Israel shrugged and held his hands out helplessly. ‘Well, you meet so many people in your job, you can’t remember them all.’

‘No, but I can try.’ She looked the two of them again, switching her gaze from one to the other. ‘Hmm, you two came in for sandwiches yesterday after talking with the police. I remember you are Gary.’ She gave the big blond a once over before turning back to Israel. ‘And you had an unusual name ... a place, like a country or a city or something.’

‘Well, yes. That’s true in a way, but I’m actually named after the prophet, not the country.’

Gary laughed. ‘Don’t get him started on names.’

Israel looked pointedly at the empty cafe kiosk. ‘I think your lunchtime rush is over – Would you care to join us?’