Beautiful Lies (46 page)

Roman settled at the helm. “You're the one who's a Llewellyn
and
a Robeson. You tell me.”

“Well, I guess Tom might understand, but Archer would think I'm really stupid.”

Roman was in an unusually chatty mood. “I never knew my grandfather. He'd been dead for a long time before I was born. Just before he died, my dad did tell me the story of the pearl.”

“Did he tell you how Archer murdered Tom?”

“He did. Years after Archer's death, an old swaggie who had lived in Broome came through Jimiramira, and he told my father everything he knew. My father said the story didn't surprise him, that he'd always known something terrible had happened in Broome, something his father felt guilty about. When Archer drank too much he saw ghosts….”

Despite himself, Matthew shuddered.

Roman continued. “Dad said that after fire destroyed the homestead and killed my grandparents, the stockmen didn't want to build a new homestead in the same place. They believed the pearl was still at Jimiramira, and if they searched the rubble, they might just find it. So when they built a new house, they built it up the hill a bit. For years, in the evening, the men would poke through what was left of the old place, and when they did, Dad was always sure he could hear his mother moaning.”

Matthew's stomach churned, but he tried to sound nonchalant. “What's on that spot now?”

“When the time came for me to build a house for my Joan, I built it on the old site. I cleared every speck of the ruins away. Not that much was left by then, I reckon. What the men hadn't carted off, white ants and storms had taken. I stood over that place and said a prayer or two. Luke's a tribal leader, and he and some of the others came late one night and had a bit of a corroboree at the spot. I don't know what they did, exactly. Maybe just something to make us all feel better. Great psychologist, Luke. But when it came time to break ground for the new house, nothing went amiss. It's just a house, and for a long time, it was a happy one.”

“It can be happy again, Granddad.”

Roman actually smiled. “I don't need a house to make me happy, Matthew. I have a grandson. As far as I'm concerned, that's bloody well done the trick.”

B
ack at Pikuwa Creek, Cullen turned off the ute's engine, but he didn't get out immediately. “You don't think Mei will be sleeping? It's just past nine in San Francisco.”

Liana noted sadly how effortlessly he could calculate the time difference between the two cities. “If Aunt Mei's asleep, I'll have Betty wake her. But I have to speak to her. She may be the only person who knows where Matthew and your father have gone.”

“The museum will have an answer before long.”

Liana was sure Cullen realized that “before long” might be too late. Broome's historical museum in the former customs house was long on atmosphere but understandably short on personnel. The curator had searched to see if any documents in their possession mentioned the place where the Pearl of Great Price had been taken from the ocean. But by the time Cullen and Liana started back to Pikuwa Creek, she still hadn't been successful.

Liana opened the door. “I'll phone my aunt. You'll radio
the
Southern Cross
and ask the captain and crew to watch out for Matthew?”

“Right, and he'll radio anyone in range and ask them to pass along the message.” He paused. “But it's a fair cow of an ocean, and we don't know what sort of vessel they borrowed.”

“We'll find them.” Again she didn't add the obvious.
Before whoever murdered Pete Carpenter found them first.

She and Cullen headed separate ways. Now past the first flush of anger, he had been formally courteous, even considerate, during the difficult morning. But she wondered if he had pondered the irony of this newest twist in their lives. If Matthew really had stolen the pearl and now he tossed it into the ocean, Liana had fewer reasons to keep her son in California. Her own reason to stay was diminished, too.

The pearl might vanish forever, exactly the way her chance to make a new life with Cullen had vanished forever that morning.

Inside, she took a moment to acquaint herself with Cullen's telephone system, located at a desk in an alcove off the kitchen. Then she waited for an operator to connect her with Mei's Chinatown apartment. She willed her aunt to be awake and strong enough to speak to her. She willed herself to be calm and clear, so that she wouldn't frighten Mei.

The telephone seemed to ring forever. Finally a woman's voice came over the line, and Liana recognized Betty. Quickly she explained that she was calling from Australia. “I need to talk to Mei about Matthew. It's urgent.”

“She's gone to bed,” Betty said. “But I heard her coughing a moment ago.”

“I have to speak to her right now.” Liana clasped the receiver as Betty went to alert her aunt. They were hemi
spheres apart, yet Betty's voice had been clear, with only a faint echo to point out the distance between them. Mei's hearing was not the best, but the volume on her bedroom telephone was enhanced. They would be able to communicate.

She paged restlessly through a desk calendar as she waited for Mei to pick up the phone. Cullen had scribbled notes everywhere, and she felt a tightening in her chest as she scanned them. April: “Tell Matthew about J. and the sea snake.” May: “Read M. article in the
Broome Advertiser
about the Stairway to the Moon.” Early June: “Tell M. news about this year's Shinju Matsuri and the parade.”

Matthew had not been allowed to visit here, but Cullen had found ways to make their son feel part of Broome and Pikuwa Creek. Her eyes stung with tears, and she closed them, unable to continue reading.

“Liana?” Mei's quavery voice sounded over the line. “Is this Liana?”

“Auntie Mei.” Liana took a deep breath. “I'm in Australia. With Cullen. We think Matthew is here.”

When Mei didn't answer, Liana wondered if her aunt was assimilating this new information or simply waiting. “Cullen and I think Matthew may have gone on a sailing trip with his grandfather—”

“Grandfather? Bryce's son?”

“Yes. Roman Llewellyn. We know Matthew visited him, then they took off for parts unknown. But Cullen and I think they may have gone off to see where the Pearl of Great Price was found. We have to find them right away. It's important. But we don't know where to look. Did your mother ever tell you exactly where the pearl was discovered?”

Mei was silent again.

“Auntie Mei, are you trying to remember?”

“He has taken the pearl,” Mei said at last.

Liana could deny it no longer. “Yes, I think he has. Cullen thinks he's planning to drop it back into the ocean.” Suddenly her heart beat faster. “How did you guess?”

“I know Matthew.”

“Did he tell you he was going to do this?” Liana demanded sharply. “Have you known all along?”

“I as much as told you.”

Liana gripped the receiver harder. “You didn't! You told us about Jimiramira and Bryce. That's all!”

“Liana-ah, I told you the same story I told your son.”

“Where is Matthew, Auntie? I have to know.”

“Is he in trouble?” Mei asked, worry in her voice.

Liana knew better than to upset someone of Mei's advanced years. “Nothing like that,” she said, in a gentler tone. “Really. But it's time for this to end. Until Cullen and I have him back, we're going to worry. We just need to be sure he's all right.”

“You want…the pearl.”

“No!” She swallowed, too confused to know if she had told a lie. “No, I just want my son. Please, Auntie Mei. I need to be sure he's all right. That's all. Can't you tell me where the pearl was discovered? You must have been the one who told Matthew.”

“I cannot remember what I ate for supper. But I can tell you where the pearl was found.”

“
Will
you?”

“A place called the Graveyard. How could I forget such a name?”

Liana shuddered. “Thank you. That's what we needed.”

“The boy is the best of two families. This is what he was meant to do. He will be safe.”

Liana wished her aunt had not filled Matthew's head
with superstitious nonsense, but she loved the old woman too much to criticize her now.

“I hope you're right,” Liana said. “I'll phone you again, just as soon as we find him.” She paused, then added before she hung up, “Auntie, don't tell anyone I called or where I am. Please, don't tell anyone Matthew's in Australia.”

She went in search of Cullen. The office was near the canteen, a simple frame building with a steeply angled iron roof like the one on the house, and tall windows with top-hinged shutters that doubled as awnings when they were open. Here, closer to the water, she could see a small fleet of workboats and men farther up the shore working on one of them. Someone was sunbathing on the cricket field, and soft music and voices sounded from the canteen where the noon meal was probably in progress.

Inside she found Sarah, who pointed toward a closed door. “He's talking to Nigel Finch, captain on the
Cross.
And he just spoke to Whitey Pendergast, as well.”

“Do you know what Whitey said?”

“Our divers just arrived at the Carpenter property, and they're in the water now. No sign of anything so far.”

The “anything” in question was bodies. Liana flinched. “Sarah, have you heard of pearling grounds called the Graveyard?”

“The Graveyard?”

“That's what it was called early in the century.”

Sarah got up to search a map tacked to one wall. “I haven't. Is that where Matthew's gone?”

“It's possible.”

“It's not on this map. But perhaps the name's been changed or that was just something the crews called it? Cullen might know…. Better yet, we'll ask my father….” She went to her desk. “I'll ring him and he'll have a bash at it.”

“Your father?”

“A third-generation pearler, my dad. He scraped along for years when pearl shell wasn't good for anything but ballast. He knows every bit of the coast.”

Cullen came out just as Sarah hung up.

“The Graveyard,” Liana told him. “Aunt Mei remembered.”

“It's one of the bays up in King Sound,” Sarah said. “Dad says too many divers died there, which is why it was christened something so grisly.”

Cullen waved his hand impatiently. “Cygnet Bay.”

“You know the area?” Liana said.

“Too right. I nearly lost a diver there last year.”

“How?”

“To a whaler shark that was larger than he was.”

 

Cullen knew better than to hope Liana would stay at Pikuwa Creek while he searched for Matthew. “I'll grab a change of clothes,” she told him after he strode to the map and pointed out the bay known as the Graveyard. “Do you want me to pack anything for you?”

He kept a bag in the office for emergency trips and told her as much. She was gone before Sarah spoke again. “Do you want me to come? You may need help.”

“No, I need you here. We'll fly up to Yampi Sound and take the
Robinette.
She's light, and she'll get us there quicker than anything else. Call ahead and tell Ken to stock her. Then ring up Whitey and tell him where we're going and why. He might be able to help us search as soon as we get a crew for the
Windrun.
”

The
Windrun
was one of Southern Cross's luggers and might be available to sail into King Sound as early as the next morning.

“Cullen, if Pete Carpenter's death had something to do with your son—”

He grimaced. “It did.”

“Should you be out there alone?”

“I'll be armed.”

“What about the
Cross
? Are you going to ask Nigel to meet you?”

“They're too far away to do any good.”

“I wish I could do more.”

He knew what she really wished. She wanted to give him comfort, even love. Instead, he was tied to a woman he could never have again. “Just sleep here in the office tonight, will you? I'll stay in touch as long as I'm able. Let me know if Nigel or anyone else calls in.”

“I've slept here before.”

“You need a life, Sarah.”

“That I do.” She tried to smile, too. There was nothing else to say.

He was down at the water's edge talking to one of his workers when Liana joined him. He introduced her. “Ellis will fly us to Yampi Sound. Our other farm's on an island there. It's closer to the Graveyard, and we'll be taking one of our workboats from there.” Cullen gestured toward the center of the bay, where a small seaplane floated on the water. “Better roll up your pant legs.”

She did so without complaint. He shouldered their bags, and they waded out to a dinghy. Ellis, who was descended from generations of Greek fishermen, started the motor with one expert tug, and in a moment they were speeding toward the plane.

“Is he coming with us on the boat?” Liana shouted.

“The lighter we travel, the better.”

“We might need him.”

He knew she wasn't talking about an extra hand to crew. He had considered asking Ellis or one of the men at the Yampi farm to accompany them, but he didn't know what he and Liana would face out on the water. He didn't want another person for whom he was responsible.

He didn't want another witness.

“We'll travel faster alone,” he said.

She didn't object, although she looked uneasy.

By the time they landed in a small inlet of Yampi Sound, the
Robinette
was waiting, primed and ready to go. Every craft in Pikuwa Creek's fleet was kept in top condition, because the lives of Cullen's crews depended on it. The little utility boat was the only thing he could really count on in the hours ahead.

“Throw our stuff below.” He tossed their bags in Liana's direction, turning back to Ellis and Ken, the Yampi manager, for a last-minute conference. Then he waved them off.

Liana resurfaced as he made a quick check of their equipment. “You're carrying a handgun, aren't you?” she asked.

“Abso-bloody-lutely. If you have a problem with that, this isn't the right place for you.”

“Do you have two?”

“When did you learn to shoot?”

“Right after I moved back to San Francisco. I never bought a gun, though. I decided Matthew and I were safer without it.”

“I just have the one, a .38 caliber semiautomatic. And a rifle, besides, in the cabin. Once we're out on the ocean, you can practice off the side. Just in case.”

“All right.”

“This isn't a game, Lee. I can still call Ellis to take you back.”

“I know it's not a game.”

In the old days he might have said “That's my missus.” But not now. Instead he started the motor and listened to it purr, every valve perfectly synchronized. “Sarah made sure they put tucker on board. Find us something to eat while I take her out of here, would you?”

 

They lunched on canned fruit salad, beans and crackers. They dined on cheese sandwiches and apples. As darkness deepened, Liana made tea in the galley and brought a cup up to Cullen. He cut the motor, and they drifted on calm waters as they sipped in silence.

She was surprised at the beauty of the Buccaneer Archipelago. Cullen had told her that the northwest coast had some of the most extreme tides in the world, peaking at twelve meters in King Sound, where the
Robinette
now drifted. The severe tides exposed mudflats and hills, along with reefs that masqueraded as islands. Sandy beaches played hide-and-seek with brooding mangroves, and narrow cliff-lined passages snaked into hidden bays.

They had passed islands of countless varieties, some that seemed formed of nothing but bird life, others stark and barren, with tormented shrubs and red-boulder shores. They had been forced to delay their entrance into the sound to avoid sucking, teeming riptides that, over the years, had taken pearling luggers and tossed them on rocky shoals.