Golden Hope (60 page)

‘Me and four mates lay in the dark for a day and a night pinned under a fall of rock, sure that we were buried alive in our graves. Boss Jantzen believed we were done for. But Doc Hundey wouldn't give up on us. This here leg was crushed to pulp. No chance of saving it, but Doc saved the rest of me – and freed three of me mates as well. Doc should have got a medal from the Humane Society. Dug us out with his bare hands, he did!'

The reporter listened attentively and made a few notes. ‘Sounds like your doctor is the town hero.'

‘Dead right he is, young man!'

Clytie caught her breath. Although pleased to hear Doc's valour proclaimed in public, the date of the mine disaster was forever imprinted on her mind – the fifth and final day of baby Robert's life. Searching frantically for some diversion to block the shaft of pain caused by that memory, she saw Long Sam hunched in the far corner on the other side of the hall. They exchanged a discreet wave.

Clytie craned her neck in the hope of glimpsing Doc Hundey and Finch. She hoped that Adelaide Hundey would make a rare appearance despite – or because of – her open antagonism to Sister Bracken. Much depended on the findings in Doc's medical report. Not until the coroner reached a verdict could her body be buried.

Clytie shuddered at the thought that right now the nurse's corpse lay on ice in the hotel cellar. The word
suicide
resounded like an echo in hushed comments around her but some women were shaking their heads in disbelief.

Clytie felt disloyal for thinking of the way Adelaide had pressured Sister Bracken at the Bush Hospital. And later their violent slanging match in the main street.

Surely it's a clear case of suicide – or is it?

She felt a distinct sense of relief when Finch took his place beside her.

He frowned at sight of the dark circles ringing her eyes. ‘Are you holding up all right? You look awful.'

‘Flattery will get you nowhere,' she hissed. ‘I haven't slept a wink. I know it's illogical but I keep feeling that somehow her death is my fault – because I hated her.'

‘If hate could kill, half the world would be in their graves.'

Without looking at her he took her hand and held it in a firm grip.

In his assumed role as Coroner, Twyman opened the proceedings with a fulsome speech of introduction that caused considerable shuffling of feet and restless twitching. Clytie studied him objectively, seeing him in the light of Doc's suspected enemy. Tall and portly, he had gimlet eyes that darted behind gold-rimmed spectacles. His receding black hair, pointed beard and toothbrush moustache conveyed an air of unchallenged authority – at least in his own eyes. His final statement caused a wave of uneasy silence.

‘As Coroner, I am empowered to summon a jury of twelve men. If I deem fit an autopsy and inquest can be performed
super visum corporis –
that is, in the direct presence of the corpse.'

His deliberate pause caused a stunned silence. Clytie looked at Finch in horror.

‘However,' Twyman continued, ‘given that Dr Robert Hundey has already taken it upon himself to conduct the autopsy at the Diggers' Rest overnight, and the direct cause of this death is yet to be determined, I have decided it is unnecessary to subject Sister Bracken's corpse to public display.'

‘Thank Christ for that,' came a woman's audible whisper.

‘I expect all present will treat the proceedings with the same respect they would when attending church.'

‘What about us atheists?' a man's voice mumbled.

Clytie covered her mouth with her handkerchief and Finch coughed to conceal an involuntary laugh.

‘He's got a point,' he whispered.

The male jurists were named and took their places. The majority were storekeepers and tradespeople, including the baker, blacksmith and mine manager, ‘Boss' Jantzen. To no one's surprise, the foreman of the jury was the self-appointed Pius James, Noni's father.

Finch's whispered comment left Clytie bemused. ‘Sonny deserves to be on the jury – but perhaps he's more valuable
off
it.'

The residents grew attentive at Twyman's next statement.

‘I will now call on Dr Robert A. Hundey to report on the autopsy conducted on the orders of Sergeant Mangles immediately after the discovery of the corpse.'

At the sight of Doc gripping a copy of his report, Clytie felt a surge of anxiety. He looked exhausted, shabby and distinctly on edge. He blinked in surprise when Twyman addressed him as if he were a complete stranger.

‘For the record, Doctor, you are empowered to conduct an autopsy given that you are indeed one of three things. Either a Bachelor of Medicine from some University or other. Or have been licensed or admitted in England or Ireland – or else are a medical officer in the Navy or Armed services. I take it one of these applies in your case?'

Dr Hundey's complexion drained to a paler shade of grey.

‘My medical qualifications are a matter of public record, as well you know, Sir. I have been resident physician in Hoffnung for the past twelve years – and in that capacity I have conducted some hundreds of autopsies.'

‘So it would seem. Given your credentials, in the light of your medical experience, what are your findings, Doctor? Was suicide the likely cause of death? Or murder by person or persons unknown?'

‘I cannot speculate on whether Sister Agnes Mary Bracken took her own life or if she met with foul play. I can only verify that her death was due to suffocation – and that her neck was broken, apparently in the act of hanging. I estimate the time of death as being between two and three hours before the discovery of her body in the cemetery.' He paused. ‘I have some knowledge of knots due to my term as a naval surgeon. In this case the noose had been tied by someone who was inexperienced.'

His voice cracked. ‘I regret to say that death was unlikely to have been instantaneous. Sister Bracken may well have been strangled at the end of the rope for some minutes – a not uncommon occurrence in a bungled execution.'

Shocked exclamations erupted from the crowd and swelled like waves until the Coroner called for silence.

‘Anyone who causes a disturbance shall immediately be ejected from this inquest.' Twyman turned a penetrating look on Doc. ‘You use the word “execution”, Doctor. Do I understand you to have used that word advisedly? That Sister Bracken's death may not have been a clear case of death at her own hands, but an act of murder by person or persons unknown, designed to give the appearance of suicide?'

Doc hesitated before answering. ‘I found no medical indications to support the theory of murder. But I am unable to rule out that possibility. I can only say that when I saw the corpse hanging from a tree overhanging an infant's grave, I was aware of a tall headstone on which the deceased woman could have stood before she jumped – or was pushed off – to be hanged.'

Twynan almost leapt from his seat.

‘So you do endorse the strong possibility of murder?'

‘No, that is, I cannot rule it out. As my report states, I can only confirm the cause of her death in physical terms. I have no way of knowing if anyone else was witness to the moment of her death or involved in its execution.'

The Coroner looked severely at each member of the jury before turning back to ask his final question.

‘And tell me, Doctor, your relationship with Sister Bracken was – shall we say – not always amicable?'

‘I had the highest respect for Sister Bracken's many years of dedication to the Hoffnung Bush Hospital. As in all professional relationships, there were occasional differences of opinion over what treatment was in a patient's best interests.'

‘I see. Your report states death occurred two to three hours prior to the discovery of the corpse.'

‘It does. That is as near as I can estimate it. I could well be out by the best part of an hour either way.'

‘Tell me, Doctor, as the sole medical practitioner in this locality, your services are in great demand, night and day, are they not?'

‘As you are well aware they are, Sir.'

‘Then no doubt you will be glad to tell the jury exactly where you were during the hours preceding the discovery of Sister Bracken's body.'

Clytie was shocked to see Doc's body suddenly jerk as if he had been hit. His hands twitched nervously. ‘I was home alone that afternoon. An unusual occurrence.'

‘Indeed, so it would seem. But were you quite alone, Doctor? I understand your sister, Miss Adelaide Hundey, is reclusive by nature. So no doubt she would be able to verify your presence at home?'

Doc's face was diffused with anger. ‘My sister Adelaide has been unwell for several days. That is why I was at home that afternoon.
She was asleep, due to a sedative I had administered to her. She was unaware of my presence in the house. I was forced to leave her unattended when a young lad delivered Sergeant Mangles's message that I was required to examine a body at the cemetery.'

Doc's voice rose on a high, nervous note. ‘I trust my word as a physician and a gentleman is good enough for you, Sir.'

‘Indeed. That will be all for the present, Doctor.'

Clytie found she had dug her nails into Finch's palm, horrified by the direction the questioning had taken.

‘I don't believe this is happening! Twyman's determined to trap Doc with words.'

‘This inquest is a farce. Don't worry, there's a respected journalist present – Twyman won't get away with his insulting insinuations!'

They stood with their backs to the wall to gain a clearer vantage of the scene.

The new priest, Father Sean Collins, was called to give evidence of his parishioner's state of mind during the months prior to her death. His Irish accent was soft but his manner was adamant.

‘I can bear witness to the fact that Sister Agnes Mary Bracken was a devout Catholic and would totally abhor the idea of taking her own life. The act of suicide is totally out of character with this fine woman. With respect, I am asking you to remember her unblemished record.'

‘Quite so, Father, duly noted.' Twyman cast a glance of irritation at his jury. ‘However, the jury has raised the question that even a devoutly religious person can perform an act totally out of character if their mind is temporarily unbalanced. Would you agree with that theory, Father?'

The priest's voice rose sharply. ‘I would
not
, Sir. I do not deal in generalisations but in the spiritual life of individual human beings. Sister Bracken, a devout Catholic, would never have taken her own life. Her many years as a bush nursing sister proves she spent her entire life
saving
lives. It is unthinkable that she would have taken her own life at the risk of eternal damnation.'

‘I understand Sister Bracken was a member of your congregation, Father.'

‘Indeed she was.'

‘And as such she would presumably have come to you to make Confession.'

‘Indeed she did.'

‘Was there any indication her mind was troubled by some act that might have unbalanced her mind? Perhaps revealed in Confession?'

‘The secrets of the Confessional are a sacred trust between priest and penitent. I am unable now or at any time in the future to discuss any such matters revealed in the Confessional – as I am sure you are well aware.'

‘Very well. May I ask how long you have known the deceased woman?'

The priest looked pink in the face, and mumbled his answer.

‘Did I hear you to say
two months,
Father?'

‘You did, Sir.'

‘I see. Then it would appear most of your knowledge of Sister Bracken has been handed on to you by others. Thank you, Father, that will be all.'

Twyman continued. ‘If I am to rely on Doctor Hundey's findings, that death was due to strangulation, either due to suicide or at the instigation of person or persons unknown, that leaves several major questions unanswered. I now call on the witnesses who discovered the body.'

Sergeant Mangles's speech took on a degree of formality that contrasted with his more casual daily dealings with local residents.

‘At ten minutes past six yesterday afternoon I was visited at the police station by two schoolboys, a local lad, Patrick Freebody and his cousin, Theo Freebody from Melbourne. The pair were breathless from running. They informed me that they had found the body of a hanged woman in the cemetery. After further questioning I ascertained that this was not the kind of boyish prank to which I am regularly subjected during the course of my duties. I escorted them to the cemetery, where I identified the corpse as being that of Sister Agnes Mary Bracken. It was obvious all life was extinct.'

‘Did you observe anyone else in the vicinity?' the Coroner asked.

‘As recorded in my written deposition, Sir, there was no one else in the cemetery at that time. No one else in sight. I immediately prepared to cut the body down from the tree. The two Freebody boys were eager to assist me, but I sent them home to their parents.'

‘Did you notice anything out of the ordinary, Sergeant?'

‘There was something unusual about the way the corpse was dressed. There was only one shoe – on the left foot. I searched for the other shoe in the area but did not recover it. I noticed there were abrasions on the left foot, consistent with having walked some distance barefoot, as noted in Doc Hundey's report.'

The next witness was Paddy Freebody. The son of the new schoolteacher at the local one-teacher school, he was tall for his twelve years, but still confined by the unwritten law to wearing short pants. His allegiance to Hoffnung was evident by the hand-knitted sweater he was wearing, its V-neck edged with the colour gold to denote Hoffnung's cricket club.

‘I understand, Patrick Freebody, that you were the person who reported the body to Sergeant Mangles. And that your cousin is unable to be present today due to illness.'