Malice Page 5

  ‘In the city,’ I said. ‘They’ll be coming back later today.’

  ‘Well, I’d just had some really bad news when I shot out of the driveway like that. The bank called. They won’t lend me any more money so I’ll have to sell my farm. And then I thought the car was stuffed too. But it was OK after I fixed the radiator.’

  ‘What about your family?’

  Harriet shrugged. ‘There’s no-one else but me. My father left when I was little. Mum was ill for a long time and then … after she died, I tried to run the place by myself. But I’m broke, I owe the bank and I can’t get a buyer. I’ve been trying for ages. But there’s this water problem … ’

  ‘Tell me,’ I said, warming to Harriet. Of all people, I knew what it was like to try making a life all by yourself.

  ‘Abercrombie House used to be a wealthy estate. It was one of the best known farms on the coast. But a long time ago, the river that used to supply water to the property dried up. Now I have to rely on just rainfall and that’s been pretty patchy over the last few years. I can’t afford to put in another dam, and the one I have is so small that even after good rain, I only have water for a few months. I can’t afford to stay there—the property is finished as a farm.’ She stood up, flushed in the face. ‘I’d better go. I’ve got a lot to pack up. I’m moving out in a few weeks.’

  ‘What about going down to the beach?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m just not in the mood now, but thanks for breakfast.’ She paused before adding, ‘And please pass on my apologies to that guy who was driving the truck.’

  ‘Boges,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah—him.’

  8:35 am

  After saying goodbye to Harriet, I went back into the house and while I was changing, my mobile chimed.

  ‘Gabbi!’ I said. ‘Great to hear from you. How’s everything?’

  ‘I’m OK. But I miss Cal loads.’

  ‘Me too, Gabs.’

  ‘He called last night, says he’s working really hard. It’s so boring here, with just Mum and me. My bestie’s gone away with her parents for the holidays. I want to come see you.’

  ‘Here?’ I said, alarmed. I didn’t want Gabbi to be terrified by a ghost.

  ‘Except Mum won’t let me,’ Gabbi continued. ‘She said I should spend time with people my own age.’

  ‘It’s not very comfortable here, Gabs,’ I said, relieved, ‘there’s no TV and there’s not even a bath or a proper kitchen. We cook over the fireplace and wash in a big tub in the laundry.’

  ‘Cool! Just like camping!’

  ‘Not quite,’ I said.

  ‘Mum’s calling. I gotta go.’

  ‘I’ll call you soon,’ I promised.

  I headed off to the beach. It seemed a long way down this time and I had to concentrate on what I was doing. But my mind kept wandering as I tried to make sense of the apparition from the night before. I wondered too if I could trust Harriet. Underneath all that, my nagging anxiety about the Drowner still occupied my thoughts.

  Finally, I was clambering over the rocks that gave onto the pure white sand of the long cove. Ahead of me, the waves rolled and crashed on the sand, and a stiff wind blew my hair into my eyes as I strode along. The beach was deserted, or so I thought, until I heard footsteps splashing behind me and turned to see Curly running through the edge of the water towards me, waving.

  I waited impatiently until he puffed up to me. ‘You seem to be surviving OK all by yourself,’ he said.

  I frowned, puzzled and wary. Had this strange guy been watching me? ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ I said shortly. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Curly shrugged. ‘No reason. It was a bit blowy last night. Thought you might have had some trouble with rattling windows and banging doors—funny noises—that sort of thing.’

  Funny noises? I thought. What does he know about last night? ‘Nothing out of the ordinary,’ I lied. I turned to make my way back up the cliff path but Curly kept up with me.

  ‘Have you thought any more about selling the property?’

  ‘I haven’t thought about it at all,’ I said curtly. ‘The next property is for sale—Abercrombie House. It’s got the same cliff top views. Your friend should buy that place.’

  ‘Ah, I’m afraid they have their heart set on Perdita.’

  ‘That’s a real shame, because you know what? So do I. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have lots of things to do today.’

  ‘Are you staying there again tonight?’

  Now I was on full alert. ‘Why are you so interested?’

  Curly grinned, revealing missing teeth. If he thought that was going to disarm me, he was very mistaken. ‘Just being neighbourly,’ he said. ‘If you’re staying there, I can go fishing and bring you a nice flathead in the morning.’

  I started quickly back up the cliff path. ‘I’m allergic to flathead,’ I called back.

  6:46 pm

  Twilight was falling when I heard Boges’s truck turning into the driveway. I ran out to meet the boys. ‘Am I glad to see you two!’ I yelled with relief.

  They’d brought heaps of provisions so we had a feast while I told Ryan and Boges about what had happened the night before.

  ‘So it just vanished?’ Boges asked.

  ‘That’s right. I was creeping along, getting closer and suddenly—’ I clicked my fingers ‘—she was gone. Just like that.’

  ‘Awesome!’ said Ryan.

  ‘It didn’t seem very awesome in the middle of the night,’ I said.

  ‘You mentioned a bad smell, and some fog?’ Boges helped himself to more food.

  ‘Yep,’ I said. ‘So I checked online. Supposedly, bad ghosts sometimes leave bad smells.’

  ‘So do a lot of other things,’ Boges said, deep in thought. ‘Not sure about the fog, though. I wonder if she’ll walk again tonight?’

  ‘If she does,’ said Ryan, ‘we’ll be ready for her.’

  I also filled them in about Harriet and told them about seeing Curly on the beach. As I spoke, my mobile chimed again.

  Hope everything good with you? Crazy busy here … prac and tech study 25 hrs a day! Send me some pics? Call soon. Cx

  I texted back:

  Everything fine. Hanging out with B and R. Miss you … chat soon 4 sure. Wx

  I’d made a promise that I wasn’t keeping. I tried not to feel too guilty as I hit ‘send’.

  ‘It just sounds odd,’ said Boges, as we cleared up the plates, ‘Curly’s mate who’s so keen to buy the property—plus someone who was desperate enough to get hold of the Perdita file to hire an investigator. Are we talking about two interested parties or could it be the same person?’

  ‘And why wouldn’t they just have bought the place before?’ Ryan asked. ‘Sligo had the deeds. A buyer could just have approached him. Am I the only one smelling a rat?’

  ‘Winter smelled a ghost already,’ laughed Boges.

  DAY 17

  14 days to go …

  Perdita

  2:32 pm

  We’d spent the next few days hanging out and exploring. Ryan had brought some boards with him, so we tried the local surf, which turned out to be pretty good. There were also some great bush walks nearby.

  Boges teased me mercilessly about the White Lady. ‘Are you sure about this ghost? How come she hasn’t come back?’

  ‘Maybe she doesn’t like guys,’ said Ryan, and we all laughed.

  I threw myself into the hard work of cleaning Perdita, and at the end of all our efforts, the old house was starting to look good. ‘It’s called shabby chic,’ I explained to the boys. ‘People go to a lot of expense to get this look,’ I said pointing out the unevenly coloured walls, the scrubbed floors, the tall sparkling windows.

  I was keen to get into the large chest with the jammed lid and drawers in the top room. Ryan and Boges chiselled away some of the timber and applied a lot of force. Finally, we were able to pull the top drawer open.

  ‘What’s this?’ I asked, pulling out and opening a large dusty box, to fin
d a pile of jigsaw pieces inside.

  ‘What they did before television and DVDs,’ said Ryan. ‘Let’s try putting it together and see what it is.’

  ‘It’s huge … there must be hundreds of pieces,’ I said. ‘We haven’t got a table big enough.’

  ‘We can do it on the floor downstairs,’ Boges said. ‘It’ll give us something to do at night while we’re waiting for your imaginary ghost.’

  I gave Boges a gentle punch, and we carried the big box downstairs and tipped out the contents in a massive pile.

  ‘Wow!’ laughed Ryan. ‘Where on earth do we start?’

  I pulled out a few pieces that looked like they went together along the bottom edge. We fooled around with the puzzle and had exactly six pieces in place when I decided I’d had enough, and went upstairs to bed. The boys bunked down in their room next door.

  DAY 18

  13 days to go …

  Perdita

  1:06 am

  I woke in alarm. Boges was shaking me. I had been dreaming of my mother holding me, hugging me, but then she just faded away.

  ‘Listen,’ he hissed, squatting beside me, his hand hooding the torchlight. Ryan was standing at the door.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked, fully awake now.

  ‘Listen. Those noises.’

  I strained to hear and sure enough, there were weird rustling and knocking sounds, as if the walls of Perdita were alive—and breathing!

  ‘That’s what I heard the night the ghost appeared,’ I whispered back.

  ‘It’s like it’s coming from the walls,’ Ryan whispered. ‘And the ceiling, too.’

  ‘Now do you believe me? Kill the light,’ I said, and we were plunged into darkness as we groped our way down the staircase. We crept to the main room window to look outside.

  Nothing.

  And then suddenly, unbelievably, a burst of light and—she was there! Drifting and floating where I’d seen her almost a week ago. We all jumped in shock.

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ Boges swore under his breath. I heard Ryan gasp.

  The ethereal spectre hovered and wavered against the backdrop of the grove, just as she had before, with her head turned away from us. From somewhere, an unearthly howl arose, making my skin prickle.

  ‘What was that?’ Boges whispered. He was gripping my arm and I was gripping Ryan.

  The ghostly figure slowly turned its head towards us and we were menaced by the black pits where the eyes should have been and the haunting skull grin.

  ‘Sheesh! That’s horrible!’ Ryan’s voice was strangled with fear. Then she was gone!

  The deep silence exaggerated the sound of my beating heart. We stood there, transfixed, until Ryan said, ‘Right, so who’s game to go outside with the torch and have a look around?’

  I took a deep breath. ‘I guess I am. What about you, Boges?’

  ‘Let’s do it,’ he said. Boges switched the torch back on, and keeping each other close, the three of us crept outside and into the cold air of the night. We kept going until we came right up to the spot where we had seen the apparition.

  ‘There’s that smell again,’ I said, sniffing the air.

  ‘I’m having some serious doubts about this ghost,’ said Boges, as he sniffed around nearby.

  ‘Man!’ said Ryan. ‘It was just here. We all saw it!’

  ‘We saw something,’ said Boges. ‘Let’s go inside. It’s really cold out here.’

  1:41 am

  We huddled around the remnants of the fire.

  ‘OK, Boges,’ I said, carefully watching his face in the firelight. ‘You’re the scientist. What do you think is going on?’

  ‘You said you were going to bring ghost-busting gear,’ said Ryan. ‘Did you?’

  ‘You bet I did,’ Boges smiled.

  ‘Where is it?’ I asked.

  ‘Right here,’ he said, tapping the side of his head. ‘In my prodigious brain box.’

  ‘Ah, your modesty,’ said Ryan, grinning. ‘Glad you haven’t forgotten it.’

  ‘Let’s work out what we know,’ Boges said, ignoring the jibe. ‘Now, what would you say our ghost was made out of?’

  ‘Some sort of ghosty stuff?’ said Ryan. ‘Stuff you can walk right through.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘Like mist or smoke.’

  ‘And you said it was a bit foggy when you went out to look for her the first time, Winter?’ Boges added.

  ‘So she’s made out of fog?’ Ryan asked. ‘Is that what you’re suggesting?’

  Boges didn’t say anything for a while. ‘I’m not sure, I need to take a closer look before I start laying out my theories. I’m going back to bed for a few more hours’ sleep,’ he finally yawned. ‘Somehow I don’t think there’ll be any more apparitions tonight. Let’s sleep on it, and tomorrow we’ll do a proper search.’

  Despite our complaining, Boges refused to say any more without sleep. Annoyed, but relieved I now had witnesses, I had no choice but to wait until morning.

  9:19 am

  In the morning, we were eager to search the grove.

  ‘OK,’ said Boges, handing out the hatchets and clippers he’d brought with him. ‘We’re going to stay pretty close together and we’re going to search around the area where we saw the “ghost” last night. We’re going to do a fingertip search, just like the cops do. That means covering every single square centimetre of ground. Got it?’

  It took us over an hour to make any headway, but as we cut and hacked our way, we checked out every bit of the overgrown ground.

  Eventually I spotted something gleaming, and I pushed and shoved until I could get close enough to retrieve it. I called out to the others as I picked it up. It was a cylinder, like an empty cartridge shell, only larger and wider.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Ryan. ‘It looks like someone’s been firing bazookas!’

  ‘They’ve been firing something,’ said Boges.

  ‘Is this some kind of pre-packed concentrated ghost mix?’ I asked, pointing to the empty shell.

  ‘Winter, this is the shell of a smoke flare. Depending on how much combustible material you put in it, it creates very dense smoke.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Ryan. ‘OK, so it smokes for a while, but how does the smoke make itself into a ghost?’

  ‘It doesn’t,’ said Boges. ‘It makes a screen that images can be projected onto.’

  ‘Like a movie?’ I asked.

  ‘Exactly like a movie. Do you remember the whistling sound you said you heard? That was the flare whizzing through the air, and which also created the bad smell. Then all that’s needed is a video projector pointed at the smoke and there’s your ghost.’

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ I said. ‘Do you mean someone was in the house using a video projector?’ I thought for a split second. ‘I bet I know where he was!’ I turned and ran back into the house and up the stairs, hearing Boges and Ryan charging after me. I ran up to the third floor lookout room facing the garden. Sure enough, on the window sill were fresh scrape marks in the dust.

  ‘So,’ I said, ‘he had the video projector set up here, then he projected some ghost footage onto the smoke screen.’

  ‘Spot on!’ said Boges, his face alight with enthusiasm. I grinned as I saw Ryan looking at me with admiration.

  ‘That’s why she went through the exact same routine the second time,’ I said. ‘He just repeated the footage.’

  ‘I wondered how come you were so brave about a ghost, Boges,’ Ryan teased.

  ‘But what about that weird knocking and scratching in the walls? How do you explain that?’ I asked.

  Boges shook his head. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘I may be brilliant, but sometimes even a genius needs a little time to work things out.’

  ‘We didn’t find anything else,’ I reminded him, ‘no clues as to who might be trying to frighten me out of the place. We need to gather more intelligence first, and I’ve got an idea how. We should have a chat with my neighbour.’

  ‘Crash girl? No way!’
said Ryan.

  ‘Good idea,’ said Boges sarcastically.

  ‘Her name’s Harriet,’ I said defensively. ‘And she’s lived here most of her life, so she’s probably got a lot of local knowledge. How about a neighbourly visit?’

  Abercrombie House

  11:26 am

  We decided to walk to Abercrombie House. We went up the winding driveway to the old colonial stone mansion—what was left of it. The house stood on a slight rise with a few ancient rose bushes growing along the front. To the left was a wide, dry gully that ran the length of the house and beyond. Several chickens scattered at our approach. Across the gully, I could see the stooped figure of Harriet, working in a vegetable garden. As I called out and waved, she made her way over, her hair pulled back from her face under a knitted beanie—clearly dressed for work in a checked shirt and overalls.

  I properly introduced her to Ryan and Boges and she shyly shook hands, excusing herself for the soil that clung to her fingers. ‘I’ve been digging potatoes,’ she explained. ‘Please come in. I’ll make us something to drink.’

  We went down a dim hallway to a big kitchen at the back of the house.

  ‘We brought these over,’ I said, placing some chocolate biscuits and cheeses on the kitchen table. ‘Boges bought far too much for us,’ I lied. ‘I was hoping that you might be able to tell us a little bit about the local history.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ Harriet said as she poured boiling water into a teapot.

  ‘Harriet,’ I said, munching into a chocolate biscuit, ‘some very strange things have been going on at Perdita lately.’

  ‘What sort of things?’ Harriet asked, her brows contracting into a frown. ‘I did wonder when you acted pretty weird the other day, coming out of that grove looking like a ghost.’

  ‘Actually, I was looking for a ghost—well, evidence of how the ghost had happened.’