Death in Disguise by Irene Sauman

Death in Disguise by Irene Sauman

Author:Irene Sauman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: amateur sleuth, australian mystery authors, cozy mystery, historical mystery
Publisher: Irene Sauman
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 9

Family Time

Emma collected Darcy from school on the way home from the Tearoom.

“Is Dad at home?” was the first thing he said to her.

“Oh, don’t I even get a hello?” Emma gently scolded.

“Sorry. Hello, Mummy. Is Dad at home?”

“That’s a little bit better, anyway. But the answer is, I don’t know. I haven’t been home since this morning.”

“He told me he was going to the wharf today. Can we go to the wharf, Mummy, please?”

“But he might be at home already.”

“Ple-e-ase.”

“All right, but don’t whine. We’ll go home first because it’s closer, and if he’s not there, we can go to the wharf after you’ve changed out of your uniform.”

“Yes!”

And she could talk to Daniel about making enquiries as to Nathaniel Pickles’ movements yesterday. Darcy raced ahead. When Emma, walking quickly, rounded the corner into their short strip of Watson Road, Darcy was leaning impatiently on their locked front door.

“Looks like Dad’s not home then,” she said as she fished in her bag for her keys.

Ten minutes later they were on their way to the wharf, Darcy in knickerbockers, and a flat cap. Emma insisted that he walk like the young gentleman he was, thankful that none of his teachers had seen him running like a street urchin earlier. At least she hoped they hadn’t, but a boy had to run sometimes.

Down the length of Watson Street they walked, past Hopwood Square where the carts, wagons and sheep used to gather to cross on Hopwood’s ferry to New South Wales. Now there was an iron bridge across the Murray at the far end of town.

By the time they reached the end of Watson Street, the river was already lined with riverboats and barges, some waiting for their next load, some with cargo and wool to unload. Others, sadly, not working right now. Ahead of them, the wharf shed loomed large, and the clanking of a crane could be heard as it worked to move wool bales from a barge to the rail cars waiting on the track for transport to Melbourne.

Emma’s heart beat faster as she stepped onto the wharf, holding Darcy’s hand tightly. She missed this. Perhaps she could talk Daniel into taking the Mary B down river to Wirramilla for Christmas this year, if the river levels held up.

“There he is.” Darcy pointed to the Mary B’s distinctive yellow and black striped funnel showing above the wharf at the far end. It was billowing steam.

“Quick, we might get a ride,” Emma urged, not that Darcy needed any encouragement as they half-ran, half-walked, dodging their way along the wharf. At the far end, they took to the steps that led down to the narrow walkway at the lower level, which Emma saw was about six inches below the upper deck of the Mary B, the river being at a good height right now.

She could see Daniel in the cockpit. He couldn’t help but notice them as they came abreast. She couldn’t see Abe, but Blue Higgins was further down the walkway, about to untie the mooring ropes.



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