"So you've been in town all this time." The speaker paused to push a fork
laden with potato into his mouth. His jaws chewed in a ponderous manner
that suggested the movement of tectonic plates.
"Yes." Elliott Marston smiled tensely as he pushed the meat to the edge of his plate. The mutton was grey and left a trail of pinkish juice on the china. He longed for some mint jelly.
They were the only two people in the back of the dining parlour of the hotel. Heavy dark wood predominated with faded red velvet hangings over the door. Although the day was bright and sunny, Marston felt as if he were sitting in the rear of a deep cave.
The Palmerston Hotel was one of the oldest establishments in Fremantle. Built in the days when the commercial life of the town depended on access to the harbour, it had been left behind as the business district moved further west. The guests of earlier days had been plain, rough men with no refinement or polish and who did not feel the lack. For them, the Palmerston was a comfortable place.
Calbert Torken was just such a man. A large, robust sheep farmer who had scraped a living from the land, he felt no wonder at his success and no compassion for another's failure. He looked out at the world through mud- colored eyes that noticed nothing that did not affect him personally. His needs were simple and uncomplicated: hearty meals, a warm bed and a solid house. His desires were few: to possess a great quantity of money, to be able to look about him and know that all the land to the farthest horizons belonged to him, and to make sure that nothing inhabited that land that was not his as well.
Since these needs and desires were few, he was able to focus his full attention on them. And he would go to any length to fulfil them.
"And you've been wasting your time with some woman when you were supposed to be doing work for the Society." Torken picked up his knife and began to saw through his meat.
"Actually, I got married." Marston gripped his eating utensils tightly. "I'll be sure to pass on your congratulations to my bride."
He should have known better; sarcasm was lost on his companion. "Didn't make any." Torken took another bite and chewed. "And now you got some story about someone trying to kill you. You been out in the sun too long."
Marston decided to relieve himself of anything that might be considered a weapon. He leaned forward, his fingers interlaced tightly and smiled again. "Cal, I know it sounds strange but it's true. Now are you going to help me or not?"
"Got no choice, do I? Always got to help you." The large man flicked a glance across the table. "Gave you the money to get you started, didn't I? Introduced you to the right people so's you could get some customers."
Marston inhaled deeply and let the air out again. "Yes, you did. And I'm grateful for all your help."
"Just don't forget it, boy. Now first thing is to bring this gal and her kid outta that whorehouse."
"He's her brother, not her child and it's not -"
"Yeah, well, whatever he is. Now Molly's in town with me this time cause she's got to see some doctor. Getting worse in her head. Can't sleep and always hears voices, she says." Torken shoved his empty plate aside and put his elbows on the table.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Said Marston sincerely.
"Point is, we're staying in a house this time. So you bring your two over to us and we'll get to the bottom of all this nonsense." He belched. "What do you say?"
"It sounds like a good plan." Marston threw down his napkin. "We'll be there this afternoon. You're sure it won't be too much for Molly?"
"Nah, she'll be all right. Spends too much time in bed dreaming of nothing much. Just don't pay too much attention to what she says. It don't make much sense sometimes."
"I'll let Sam know. And thank you, Cal." Marston looked away from his companion and gazed out the window into the street. Despite the warmth of the day his skin felt clammy.
"You're welcome." Torken belched again. "And then there's no more excuses for not gitten' on with our work. Got that?" Just for a moment a hint of menace vibrated in the air.
"Yes." Elliott Marston smiled tensely as he pushed the meat to the edge of his plate. The mutton was grey and left a trail of pinkish juice on the china. He longed for some mint jelly.
They were the only two people in the back of the dining parlour of the hotel. Heavy dark wood predominated with faded red velvet hangings over the door. Although the day was bright and sunny, Marston felt as if he were sitting in the rear of a deep cave.
The Palmerston Hotel was one of the oldest establishments in Fremantle. Built in the days when the commercial life of the town depended on access to the harbour, it had been left behind as the business district moved further west. The guests of earlier days had been plain, rough men with no refinement or polish and who did not feel the lack. For them, the Palmerston was a comfortable place.
Calbert Torken was just such a man. A large, robust sheep farmer who had scraped a living from the land, he felt no wonder at his success and no compassion for another's failure. He looked out at the world through mud- colored eyes that noticed nothing that did not affect him personally. His needs were simple and uncomplicated: hearty meals, a warm bed and a solid house. His desires were few: to possess a great quantity of money, to be able to look about him and know that all the land to the farthest horizons belonged to him, and to make sure that nothing inhabited that land that was not his as well.
Since these needs and desires were few, he was able to focus his full attention on them. And he would go to any length to fulfil them.
"And you've been wasting your time with some woman when you were supposed to be doing work for the Society." Torken picked up his knife and began to saw through his meat.
"Actually, I got married." Marston gripped his eating utensils tightly. "I'll be sure to pass on your congratulations to my bride."
He should have known better; sarcasm was lost on his companion. "Didn't make any." Torken took another bite and chewed. "And now you got some story about someone trying to kill you. You been out in the sun too long."
Marston decided to relieve himself of anything that might be considered a weapon. He leaned forward, his fingers interlaced tightly and smiled again. "Cal, I know it sounds strange but it's true. Now are you going to help me or not?"
"Got no choice, do I? Always got to help you." The large man flicked a glance across the table. "Gave you the money to get you started, didn't I? Introduced you to the right people so's you could get some customers."
Marston inhaled deeply and let the air out again. "Yes, you did. And I'm grateful for all your help."
"Just don't forget it, boy. Now first thing is to bring this gal and her kid outta that whorehouse."
"He's her brother, not her child and it's not -"
"Yeah, well, whatever he is. Now Molly's in town with me this time cause she's got to see some doctor. Getting worse in her head. Can't sleep and always hears voices, she says." Torken shoved his empty plate aside and put his elbows on the table.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Said Marston sincerely.
"Point is, we're staying in a house this time. So you bring your two over to us and we'll get to the bottom of all this nonsense." He belched. "What do you say?"
"It sounds like a good plan." Marston threw down his napkin. "We'll be there this afternoon. You're sure it won't be too much for Molly?"
"Nah, she'll be all right. Spends too much time in bed dreaming of nothing much. Just don't pay too much attention to what she says. It don't make much sense sometimes."
"I'll let Sam know. And thank you, Cal." Marston looked away from his companion and gazed out the window into the street. Despite the warmth of the day his skin felt clammy.
"You're welcome." Torken belched again. "And then there's no more excuses for not gitten' on with our work. Got that?" Just for a moment a hint of menace vibrated in the air.