“And . . . “
“Nothing,” Jack said. “Do you think the role of a high priestess would be a secret thing?” Jack asked as he watched a pelican high in the sky.”
“If she is a high priestess, I’m sure people will know it.”
“Best we find those people.”
“The media are snooping. Maybe we need to ask their help.”
“Let’s do that. And the pamphlets will be ready for handing out to ferry users tomorrow.”
“Yep. Have a couple of trainees organised for that,” Catherine said.
“Next, the boat. I’ve got the details of a few fishermen that Sergeant Phil thinks may have been fishing close by.”
“Let’s hope their stories aren’t fishy,” Catherine said, with her eyebrows raised.
“That’s bad, Cath. Real bad.”
Jack looked towards the greenery. No shadowy figure. Was this already getting to him?
Jack thought about Jill Spencer. She didn’t seem overly concerned about being caught, assuming it was her who made the return trip. Someone else could have tapped her transit card on the recorder. Or she could have lost her card, intentionally or unintentionally, and the finder had used it.
Those questions could be answered by viewing the CCTV recordings for the return trip. Did they have them?
But being unconcerned could be a trait of someone who believed in magic or magick. Whichever term was relevant. Maybe Jill Spencer could explain the terms.
23 – Something fishy
JACK BELIEVED LOUIS BASS was a real good name for a fisherman. Or maybe a pirate.
Louis’s favourite time for fishing was full moon time and his secret fishing spot had a good view of the estuary parklands—they all had secret fishing spots that everybody seemed to know about. He’d seen them there before, dancing around in a circle—weirdos as far as he was concerned, although it was good entertainment when the fish weren’t biting.
Jack and Catherine stood with Louis near his boat, which was straddled on its trailer in the dirt driveway. The boat stunk. Jack suggested, in a manner not to offend the fisherman, that they move onto the porch. They moved but the smell didn’t go away. The man stank as well. The smell of fish attached itself to everything. This place, and Louis, needed to be drenched in lemon juice. Jack had heard that was why people added lemon to fish, to reduce the fishy smell. He’d always thought it had something to do with flavouring.
They sat in some old wicker chairs. Jack was happy he was dressed casually because his jeans and top would be thrown in a washing machine as soon as he got home. With a lemon, if required.
“I sat there with my rod in hand and watched a boat drift into the mangroves. I turned my lantern off and sat in the darkness of the mangroves. It was eerie.”
“Why?” Jack asked.
“Can’t fully explain that. I’d just watched the weirdos walk off—if you can call it that. More like a bunch of zombies. It looked like they were drunk, stoned, or high on something. Maybe I’ve watched too many horror movies.” The man paused to scratch something off one of his fingernails. A fish scale floated down to the decking and disappeared through a crack between the timber. “The full moon seems to bring out the crazies and the fish.”
Jack laughed.
“Could you describe the boat?” Catherine asked.
“It was a half-cabin cruiser. An older type, a runabout.” He bent down and sorted through some magazines that lay cluttered on the deck, then held out a sales catalogue. “Always keep my eyes on boats for sale. Not that I could afford one, but still good to look.”
He flipped through the pages and then leaned towards the detectives and pointed to a picture. “It’s like this one.”
Catherine used her phone to take a picture of the advertised boat.
“Can you tell us anything else?”
“Just two of them on board. I’d say one was the person from the centre of the crazy circle. As the boat drifted out from the shoreline I saw the person sitting at the back of the boat, with the hood still on. Then something really weird happened.”
A chill ran up Jack’s back. “Something weird . . . what was that?”
“The hooded person looked spooky, because they were shrouded by a light at the back of the boat. The light also attracted a swarm of insects, zipping in and out of the light. The swarm got bigger and bigger, then vanished. A few seconds later, I saw the black cloud coming straight for me. I grabbed my insect spray and sprayed at the incoming swarm and sprayed it all over me.”
Louis rolled up his sleeves and rubbed over some red bumps and rashes.
“They only got in a few bites but enough to bring my fishing to an end. When I was under attack, I looked in the direction of the boat. The hooded person was looking in my direction. I’m sure I was concealed. But it was if she knew I was there, and had sent the insects after me.” He rolled his sleeves down. “I left not long after they departed. I did see two men walking into the park but I had too many painful bites to hang around. All sounds a bit silly, hey?”
“Not really,” Catherine said. “Your warm blood probably attracted the insects.”
“Yes, I’m a warm-blooded creature. You’re probably right.”
Mild flirtation Jack thought but he also remembered Churchie saying something about insects and witches. The chill returned. He shrugged it off, but a feeling of uneasiness remained.
Did this woman have some kind of power or was it who accompanied her?
Part Three – The Redhead
24 – A visitor
RUBY HAD MADE A TUNA SALAD SANDWICH and seated herself on her front balcony, overlooking the large trees lining the road. She’d forgotten the name of the trees but a neighbour had told her they were considered weeds, as their root system sought out and damaged underground sewage pipes. Ruby loved the quaint trees, and was sorry to hear they were weeds. Another example of what you see on the surface wasn’t always good. She thought of Shoana. What lay beneath her surface?
