A Pathway of Adversity

Chapter 51

"Do you employ a woman by the name of Colleen Austin?" The Health Official asked checking his file.

Alf Stewart swallowed. He immediately knew that his sister must be mixed up with the sale of contaminated fish which had fatally poisoned so many residents of Rosemonger and left many critically ill in hospital. He opened his mouth to speak but the words wouldn't come. He scratched the top of his balding head and took a deep breath, opening his mouth again.

"Yes, he does." Another voice put in.

Alf, Detective Arnold and the two health officials sent by the department, all looked in her direction. Morag Bellingham and Marilyn Fisher stood in the doorway, the latter with a tray of tea.

"Marilyn love... Just leave the tea things there. We'll help ourselves..." Alf said, half standing and pointing to a side table.

"No Alf!" Morag barked. "There's little point in trying to cover this up. Mr. Watts and Mr. Smith here, need to be told the truth. Marilyn will soon be a member of our family..." She reminded Alf, glancing at the bemused blonde. "So she might as well hear the truth."

Marilyn, for once in her life was struck dumb. All eyes looked towards Alf expectantly. He took a deep breath.

"Gentlemen... This is my sister Morag Bellingham and my intended, Marilyn Fisher. Morag is my lawyer and I've invited her here, this afternoon... well, just in case."

"Just in case of what, Mr. Stewart?" Watts asked.

"Armageddon has struck Summerbay. The S.B.F & C has been mentioned as being the possible provider of contaminated fish stocks. Several prominent employees have been questioned, or wanted by the Police for questioning over the murder of one of our esteemed directors, Irene Roberts." Alf explained, looking towards the Detective. "I just wanted someone here in case..."

"I quite understand, Mr. Stewart." The Detective smiled.

Watts leaned across to his colleague, Smith, and muttered something which was inaudible to the rest of the company assembled.

"Under the circumstances, Mr. Stewart, we are happy for your associates to remain. Please continue."

"Well, it's like this... Morag here, and I, have another sister... Colleen... Colleen Smart. Also an employee at the S.B.F & C.

"Colleen is a common enough name... Let's not go jumping to any conclusions, Mr. Stuart!" Christopher Watts observed, glancing at the ferocious looking woman who had recently entered the room. "I'm sure a family member wouldn't..."

"Our sister, Mr. Watts, had an illegitimate son when she was sixteen years old. He was put up for adoption by our parents and she never saw him again... Until a few years ago, that is. Her son found her by means of the World Wide Webb and since then, he's bled her dry and got her involved in various scrapes which, women of her age shouldn't be involved in." Morag advised bluntly.

"Alf! You didn't tell me this!" Marilyn squawked.

"Sorry love, but Morag and I have only recently found this out ourselves."

"But that gentleman mentioned Colleen 'Austin', not Smart!" Marilyn reminded the company gathered.

"The names of the adoptive parents were Harold and Cornelia Austin. They died in a car wreck nearly four years ago... Their adopted son, Hugo, moved to the Bay three years and five months ago, in search of his birth mother... Colleen Smart, née Stewart." Morag explained. "Alf and I knew nothing about this. Our sister was removed from Summerbay before any evidence of the expected baby showed. She lived for some time with a very prickly maiden aunt in the city. Probably where she picked up her strange ways." She continued, glancing at her brother.

Alf nodded in agreement.

Marilyn gasped and cupped her hand to her mouth.

"You see, Gentleman..." Alf continued, "Without a doubt, the person you seek is our sister, Colleen Smart."

Watts and Smith glanced at each other in some dismay.

"One of my officers, Sergeant Buckton, visually identified Mrs. Colleen Smart as the driver of the van transporting fish stocks to Boggaroo several weeks ago." Detective Arnold advised.

"Dear me... Was this a positive identification?" Watts asked.

"It's on record as a 'possible' identification."


Joey Collins watched an array of Police vehicles driving to and fro, with sirens wailing, at great speed along the coast road between Summerbay and Yabbie Creek. First, she feared they were looking for her, but not one passing officer glanced in her direction. She continued until she was within sight of the Summerbay Fish and Crab Company. She paused for a while, running through her plan once again, to ensure complete accuracy, and then continued towards the back of the visitors car park which was out of sight of the main entrance.


"Hi Charlie... How's it going?" Ingrid Peters enquired.

"Good, thanks, Ingrid. Any news?"

"I've compiled quite a dossier which, by coincidence, I was going to drop into you this evening. I think you may be interested in my findings!"

"Good. Ingrid... Have you spoken to Joey Collins lately?" Charlie asked.

"Joey? No! I was gonna ask what had happened to her."

Charlie sighed. She was almost out of her mind with worry since Joey's disappearance, but couldn't risk asking too many questions in general, in case it excited too much curiosity.

"She was under surveillance but dodged the column the day before yesterday and hasn't been heard of or seen since."

"I really don't believe Joey is mixed up in this murder case, Charlie." Ingrid exclaimed.

"Which one?"

"What do you mean...? There hasn't been another?"

"Doug Smooter, no less!" Charlie advised sadly.

"Doug! Oh my God! When? How?"

"He was found up on the cliffs early this morning by Leah Pattison and her son. He wasn't a pretty sight."

"Charlie... I don't know what to say! He was a nice guy. He helped me out several times with useful information; possibly not consciously, but all the same..."

"I feel awful." Charlie confessed. "He'd tried to contact me, asking for help, but I was so wrapped up in looking for Joey, that I never got to him on time. Poor guy. I have the unenviable task of contacting his wife, later."

"Don't envy you that. Anyhow, can I pop 'round this evening with my notes?"

"See you at eight."

Ingrid put her mobile phone back in her pocket and continued to work.


Joey pushed the old, rusty door until it creaked open. She smiled at her success and pushed away the years of cobwebs which had accumulated since the last time she had entered this way. Joey had remembered a back entrance which wasn't used anymore. She and her brother Brett had often used this as a means of entrance or escape as children – possibly avoiding a good hiding from their father for getting in the way or stealing buns and biscuits from the company canteen. She closed the door behind her and stood for a while allowing her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness of the passage. The passage way was long and wide and had been used many years ago to store boxes of fish before being transported all over Western Australia, but after the acquisition of a new warehouse with proper cooling units, it rendered the old passage storage facility as redundant. After a few moments, she began to follow the walk-way until she could see the outline of a door at the far end. She tried the door handle and was surprised how easily and quietly it opened. The light in the outer room flooded the passage and when she was quite sure that no one was about, pushed the door back to its furthest extent to maximize the light. She saw an old telephone in the corner and prayed it still worked. It did. She dialled an internal number and waited.


Hugo Austin looked up at the Police Station window. He was loathed to enter the building, but he'd confessed everything to Alf and Morag and now there seemed little point in continuing to deny his involvement in the gambling syndicate which he had masterminded, and his participation in selling drugs to dealers. Morag Bellingham had advised him that if he willingly gave himself up to the Police and confessed all, she would help him to get the lightest possible custodial sentence. Alf Stewart threatened that if he didn't do as Morag advised, he would personally blow his head off. Morag frowned, but Hugo knew that Alf wasn't kidding. He'd messed around with Alf's granddaughter, his business and had led his sister, Colleen into things which she had no right to be involved with.


Joey looked about and saw several taped-up boxes and a small chair which was piled high with files. She picked up one with interest, but was confused when finding it to be a recent file. It seemed strange that any files were kept in these cold, damp conditions – achieved files were always kept in the east block by the accounts department. She looked closer at the writing on the front of the file. It read 'Peter Thornton'. She frowned and picked up another. This read 'George Mason'. She opened up George Mason's file and started to read.


Martha Holden strummed her fingers on the desk, eager to learn what was being discussed in the meeting her grandfather was staging. She had noticed the gentleman being escorted into the meeting room by Marilyn, but hadn't paid much attention until her aunt Morag and Marilyn, complete with a tray of tea, entered the room some fifteen minutes later. Neither left the room afterwards. She frowned. Hugo had disappeared temporarily too, so she couldn't ask him what was going on. Instead, she arranged a pile of files in alphabetical order.

"I'm just taking these down to archiving." She announced to Alison, the Financial Controller.

"No worries. Take your lunch too, if you wish." Alison suggested.

Alison needed to speak to Ingrid Peters urgently. She'd received a strange internal call from someone within the company and wanted some advice.

"See you later, girls!" Martha cried, merrily.

Alison watched as Martha departed.

"Ingrid... I've just had a telephone call... From Joey!" She whispered.

"Joey?! Joey Collins?"

"Yes! She's been missing for ages, but she's in the building right now! She's asked if she can stay at my place for a few days – just until she can get herself sorted out."

"Charlie's out of her mind looking for her. You'd better let her know."

"Joey has specifically asked me not to!"

"Alison, Joey could get into big trouble and so could you! Her name still hasn't been cleared and the police want to question her over Irene's death. She needs to contact Charlie straight away!"


Joey tossed several files which contained threatening letters, onto the floor before picking up one which to her horror, had the name, Irene Roberts, scribbled across the top. Joey opened the file tentatively and began to read. Her face turned paler as she turned each page.


Alison left the accounts office and Ingrid took the sudden opportunity of trying to open the mysterious cupboard. She took out a strange looking contraption from her bag and furtively moved over to the object of her interest. She placed the key-like object into the lock and moved it gently. Suddenly, she heard a noise from the corridor and froze. Two packers from the warehouse walked by the door.

"G'day beautiful!" One called.

"Hi, Ricky!" Ingrid called back as calmly as possibly.

When she was certain they were gone and the coast was clear, she continued with the task until she heard the clunk of the lock mechanism. She smiled and removed the key-like object. With ease, the large cupboard door opened revealing at least ten ledgers. She smiled and took out the nearest. Resting it on Martha's desk, she hurriedly turned the pages.


Joey continued to turn the pages of Irene's file. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks as the next page revealed a letter, written in Irene's own hand which was addressed to 'Joey Collins'.