Death on Dangar Island

Gary Goes Fishing

Hang on a minute, hold the phone – how the hell do you know her name, Iz? I bet the cops don’t even know who she is yet.’

Israel’s hand reached towards his pocket but fell slack. ‘I am not at liberty to say.’

‘All right. I suppose you can’t tell me how you know our neighbour’s name is Dorothy either?’

‘Oh yes, I can tell you that – I heard her refer to herself in the third person while she was talking on the telephone on her back deck yesterday evening.’

‘Oh yeah, I heard her too. It’s not like I had a choice. Why do you want to talk to her? She sounds like my crazy Aunt Doreen.’

‘Yes, and just like your Aunt Doreen she knows the local gossip. I’m sure she’ll be full of scandalous information.’

‘Sounds like fun. You’re welcome to go without me.’

They’d made it back inside now and Gary stamped around the kitchen making sure he had fresh bait and cold beer on ice. ‘D’you see this place is called Carinya, Iz? Wonder what it means.’

‘It’s an Aboriginal word meaning “happy, peaceful home”,’ Israel called after him as Gary scouted about on the deck for his rod and a radio for listening to the cricket.

‘What? Where’d you pick up that little titbit?’ Gary threw back over his shoulder.

This time Israel allowed his hand to tap his top pocket. ‘Google.’

‘Should have bloody known,’ grumbled Gary. He eventually found the radio. ‘Right, I’m off. I finally get a chance to get some fishing in.’ It was a beautiful afternoon and the sun was still bright and high. ‘No offence, mate, but I just feel like a bit of time to myself.’

Israel flicked his hand. ‘Of course, Gary. It hasn’t been much of a break for you so far. You go and enjoy yourself

He drifted onto the balcony and watched Gary as he lumbered over the sand at the end of the garden with his fishing gear. His friend deserved some peace after what he’d just been through … and now this.

Gary had recently spent sixteen months nursing his wife Wendy as she died of cancer. The onset and diagnosis had been sudden and had taken them all by surprise. Gary and Wendy had two children, Jeff and Sarah, who had only just left home. Dealing with their mother’s illness and premature death had been traumatic for them. Gary was a loving father and did his best for his children – but nothing could replace Wendy.

Wendy was a beautiful person, warm, generous and kind. She had been the one to recognise and encourage the burgeoning relationship between her husband and what must have seemed at the time to be a strange, solitary man from overseas. She had gone out of her way to welcome Israel both to Australia and into the bosom of her family. Israel had gone out of his way to spend time with Wendy over the last few painful months of her life. Then he had helped Gary with the funeral and given him the space he seemed to need to process his loss.

After three months without hearing from him, Israel had started to worry about Gary, when suddenly his friend had called him, saying he’d rented a cottage on an island and asking him to come along as a thank-you for his support. 

He sighed as he looked over the tranquil water. This really wasn’t his idea of a holiday – there was far too much loafing about for his liking – but he really shouldn’t begrudge being here. It was nice to see Gary out and about.

He stood up and sauntered over the deck to the railing and scanned the nearest branches. Nothing. He briefly considered pouring himself a glass of sauvignon blanc, but then firmly rejected it. It was far too early and there had to be something productive he could do! As he stood there, an Australian darter swept down onto the grass in front of him and spread his long black wings out to dry. Israel pulled up a chair, instantly engrossed.