Inheritance (34 page)

He shone his torch at the hole but it revealed nothing. His breath came in short gasps now and he was sweating profusely. He stood back. He’d never get anywhere at this rate. He needed proper tools.

It was getting late and the light was fading. He’d come back in the morning at first light with a crowbar. Looking around, he took careful note of his surroundings. He had to be sure he could find the spot again.

Ben was in a fever of excitement. He phoned Stella when he returned home and told her he’d found something that looked very promising, the entrance to a hidden cave.

‘I’ll call you again tomorrow when I get in and see what’s in there,’ he told her.

Unable to sleep, he spent most of the night planning how he was going to spend all the money.

He was up and ready before dawn and set off, reaching the river as first light was breaking. Before launching the boat, he put in a crowbar and chisel, along with the torch, then hid his car and crossed the river once again. After tying the boat up securely, he put the torch and chisel in his pocket and shouldered the crowbar.

Ben had no difficulty finding the right place again and set to work straight away. Using the chisel first, he enlarged the small hole he’d already made and then tried to work upwards. It was solid rock as he went up further. He stopped and shone the torch through the gap and could see enough to convince him that there was indeed a cave on the other side of the rock wall.

Excitedly, he renewed his efforts. As soon as he’d enlarged the hole enough, he attacked it with the crowbar. It was slow, tedious work. The face was rock about twenty centimetres thick. After about an hour, he paused to catch his breath and sat down to think about it. Perhaps, if this was the burial cave, there was another way in to it. He spent some time searching carefully but if there was another entrance, he couldn’t find it. He picked up the crowbar again and renewed his efforts. It took him another two hours before he made a hole large enough to wriggle through.

Inside, he found he could stand up straight. He was in a cave and, as he shone the torch around, he could see aboriginal drawings on the walls. His pulse beat faster. Was this it, or was it just another ordinary cave?

He swung the torch slowly around. Apart from a lizard, which hissed at him as the beam from the torch hit it, the cave appeared to be empty. Surely he hadn’t done all that work for nothing. A large, round rock stood against the wall on the side opposite from where he’d made the entrance. Going over to it, he pushed on it. It moved. He pushed it further and saw there was a hole in the wall behind it.

With mounting excitement, he pushed it right away and shone the torch through the hole. His heart raced at what he saw. There was a second cave, larger than this one. On the
floor alongside the walls were what seemed to be long bundles wrapped in some type of cloth that had aboriginal motifs painted on it.

His blood pounded through his body as he ventured inside. Cautiously, he put out his hand and moved back the covering at the top of one of the bundles. Inside, he could see the top of a skull with hair attached to it.
This was it! He’d found it! He was rich!

Ben shouted with exuberance. The sound echoed and bounced back at him from the walls, loud in the confined space. The sound sobered him a little.

He looked more closely at what he’d found. The bundles were of different lengths and some were tied with coloured bindings. All had bands of ochre drawings running around them. Some had objects lying on top of them. He picked one up and turned it over in his hands curiously. It was the preserved body of a baby crocodile. ‘Like a mummy,’ he muttered. ‘Probably worth a fortune.’ Well, he may not sell it. He may keep it as a trophy.

All of a sudden, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He shivered. He had become icy cold. A feeling of dread gripped him. He tried to back out to the other cave but his legs were numb, they wouldn’t move. He broke out in a cold sweat. The back of his neck prickled. It became hard for him to breathe. A wave of nausea swept over him. He was terrified, he couldn’t move. It seemed like hours that he stood there, paralysed.

Slowly, feeling returned to his legs. His breathing returned to normal. He backed out into the other cave and swung the torch beam around. Everything was the same. Swiftly, he crawled out through the opening, clinging firmly to the crocodile figure. He remembered Stella had said not to touch anything. Well, this was his own trophy. She wouldn’t know anything about it. He wasn’t going to let it go.

Out in the open, he still felt a sense of apprehension and realised he was shaking. He looked back at the hole. He should block it up in case someone else found it. Quickly, he pushed back the rubble that had come from the hole and added some rocks to it.

There, it wouldn’t be visible to the casual glance. He hid the crowbar and chisel behind rocks some distance away; he would need them again later.

Ben bent and picked up his trophy, which he had placed on the ground while he was working. As he straightened up, fear gripped him again. Standing at the edge of a clump of trees about ten metres away, stood a dark figure!

This was the fiercest-looking aborigine he’d ever seen. Naked except for a cord around his waist, from which hung a genital protector, his black face and body was patterned with ochre markings. Around his forehead, he wore a band of many colours. On his feet, he wore shoes made of feathers. And in his hand, he held a long spear.

All this Ben noticed in detail as he stood rooted to the spot. He remembered the feelings he’d experienced inside the cave. There was something unnatural happening here. Something supernatural. Panic gripped him. He’d violated their sacred burial ground. Somehow he knew this aborigine was here to administer retribution.

Terror gripped him. He turned and ran blindly down the hill, he must get away! He looked back over his shoulder. The aborigine was following, running easily, spear held aloft.

On Ben went. About halfway down and panting heavily, he slipped and slid over a loose patch of stones, then regained his balance. He looked back again. The pursuer was still there, but seemed to have fallen back a bit. He pressed on. If only he could make the river, he would be safe.

His breath came in great gulps now and his legs felt weak. The river was just ahead. He looked back, his pursuer was closer now.

Terrified, he ran to where he’d tied the boat to a tree at the entrance to the creek.

It wasn’t there! Where was it?

This was the right spot, he knew. Perhaps it had drifted around into the river. He raced along the riverbank. The boat was nowhere to be seen. Panic gripped him. He looked back. His nemesis was almost upon him, spear raised. He had to reach his car and safety!

Ben plunged into the river and started to swim for the other side, not noticing he’d dropped his trophy on the bank. He was about half way across when he felt the jaws clamp around his leg.

He screamed as he struggled to free himself, kicking with his other leg. He tried to shake himself free. His arms flailed helplessly at the water. The last thing he saw were the yellow eyes flaring as the crocodile dragged him under and went into its death roll.

The water churned for a few minutes; then all was still. The blood red stain that spread on the river’s surface was the only sign of what had happened.

Stella was worried. What was Ben playing at? All day yesterday, she had waited impatiently to hear from him. His phone call the night before had put her into a state of wild excitement. So much so that she felt a desperate need to speak to someone about it. There was only one person she could share it with, her partner in the enterprise. The voice at the other end of the line sounded surprised to hear from her.

‘You know I told you only to call on the mobile,’ it said, ‘this line’s not safe. I can be overheard too easily.’

‘I thought you’d want to know, I just had a call from Ben. He thinks he’s found something.’ She heard a quick intake of breath on the other end.

‘What’s he found?’

‘The entrance to a hidden cave. He wouldn’t say more than that but he’ll ring tomorrow after he’s investigated it. I’ll call you as soon as he does.’

‘Let me know as soon as you hear. And remember to use the mobile phone.’

‘I will.’

Now here it was the middle of the second day and she was still waiting to hear from Ben. The phone rang and she grabbed it eagerly.

She heard her partner’s voice. ‘What’s happening?’

‘I don’t know. I haven’t heard from Ben.’

‘Didn’t he say he’d ring yesterday?’

‘Yes. I can’t think what’s happened.’

‘Do you think he’s found it and is trying to cut us out?’

‘No way. He wouldn’t have any idea how to go about selling it. Any more than you would.’

Silence for a few seconds. ‘Okay. Let me know as soon as something happens.’

Stella felt too restless to settle. Katie was out to lunch so she decided to go and start packing the Tubitjara paintings. She was fairly certain she had a buyer, so she might as well start preparing them for shipment. It might take her mind off Ben.

They were in a small back storeroom, securely locked, the key safely in her pocket, and well away from sight. She wrapped two of them and was about to start on the third when someone entered the Gallery from the street. She walked out of the room to see who it was. Mark Pierce. She was always pleased to see him. She nursed hopes that their relationship would blossom into something personal. Until Cassie came on the scene, she had felt she was making good progress. Perhaps the spiteful remarks she made to Cassie would have cooled her passion and ended their romance. However, she was disappointed Mark had not been overly attentive to her at the function she had partnered him to last week.

Stella hurried to greet him now. ‘Mark,’ she purred, ‘how nice to see you. What can I do for you?’ She ushered him into her office.

‘I’ve come to see if you’ve received the two prints for the reception area yet?’

‘Yes. They came in yesterday. I have them ready for the courier now.’

‘Excellent. I think that finalises everything, doesn’t it? While I’m here, I’d like to pay the last account I’ve received from you, Stella. It will be the last one, won’t it?’

‘Yes, but there’s no hurry.’ She laughed. ‘Your credit’s good.’

‘I’m sure, but I’d like to pay it. I’m off to Sydney next week.’

‘Again? Don’t you sometimes get tired of all the travelling? Feel like you’d like to settle in one place?’

‘As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve decided to settle permanently in Sydney. I won’t be coming back this time.’

Stella gaped at him, dumbstruck. She blinked and tried to pull herself together. ‘But…your business here, the resort. Who will look after that?’

‘I’m putting in a manager. I have someone capable.’

Speechless, she was still staring at him when the door to the office opened and Katie entered with a painting held in front of her.

‘Excuse me, Stella, but I wonder what you want done with this.’ She held it out to show it to Stella. ‘Has it just come in, I haven’t seen it before? Where do you want me to put it? And it doesn’t seem to have any paperwork with it.’

Mark glanced at it, and then looked more closely. It was a landscape with a river in the foreground. He frowned, as if trying to remember something

Panic gripped Stella. How could she have been so careless? The blood rushed to her cheeks.

‘How often have I told you not to interrupt me in here?’ she spat at Katie. ‘Don’t you ever take any notice of what I say, you stupid girl?’

‘I’m sorry, Stella.’ The girl looked mortified.

‘Let me have a look,’ Mark asked. ‘That’s a very good piece of work. It’s aboriginal, isn’t it? I seem to think I’ve seen it before. Who’s it by?’

‘Just some obscure artist,’ Stella told him, her heart pounding. ‘No. You wouldn’t have seen it before. It’s just finished, never been displayed. It has no merit at all. I was checking it when you arrived. Put it in the storeroom and don’t bother me again.’ Her voice was still shrill as she dismissed Katie. ‘Now, where were we, Mark?’

‘I was about to write a cheque for this account,’ he said, looking at her curiously.

‘Yes, of course. Katie is so stupid and incompetent. So unreliable. I’m thinking of replacing her.’

Mark wrote the cheque and passed it across the desk to Stella without comment. Her hand shook slightly as she took it from him.

‘Will I see you before you go?’ she asked, trying to calm herself.

‘I’m not sure. I have a lot to attend to before I go.’

He stood up and she forced herself to relax as she walked to the door with him.

He turned to her. ‘In case I don’t see you, I’ll say goodbye now. Thank you for the effort you’ve put into your work. I’m very happy with what you’ve done and you can be sure I’ll recommend your services whenever I can.’

‘Thank you. It’s been a pleasure working with you. I’m a little…surprised to hear of your sudden decision to return to Sydney. We’ll all miss you.’ Hopefully he would think she was just surprised, if he had noticed her agitation.

Mark held out his hand and they shook hands formally.

***

Mark puzzled over the painting as he walked to the car. He felt sure he’d seen it before despite Stella’s insistence that he couldn’t have. And she seemed upset out of all proportion at Katie’s interruption with the painting. Something niggled at the back of his mind. The harder he tried to remember, the more it eluded him. Eventually he shook his head, pushing it to the back of his mind.

It wasn’t until he was almost home that he thought about it again. Then it suddenly struck him. Cassie’s Tubitjara paintings! It looked like one of them. He remembered studying them in her hallway. He was almost certain this was one of them. But they had been stolen. How could one of them have found its way into Stella’s possession?

Mark tried to remember the signature on it. He hadn’t taken much notice, he had been looking at the work. But it had been a long, scrawly signature; it could have been Arthur Tubitjara.