His host was delighted. “I think that’s great. You’re quite right — we should be more caring of each other. Glad to know you, Percy. Uncommon name. I’m Dick Shaw, though my wife called me Richard — thought it was more classy.”
“Don’t you have a wife any more?” asked Percy, pleased with himself for being able to broach the subject so soon.
Dick considered the question before answering. Then he shrugged. “I suppose I have.”
“Don’t you know?”
“Well, I suppose the answer is yes I have, but we had a flaming row a while back and she left home. Haven’t seen her since.”
“I am sorry.”
“Well,” Dick considered, “so am I in a way. On the other hand it’s pretty marvelous. Terrible nag she’s become lately. Do this — do that — why don’t you do the other. All day long, it was beginning to drive me mad. Why couldn’t I have a bit of peace now that I’m retired and do what I wanted? I wasn’t causing any trouble.”
“No. I see what you mean, I can understand how you felt.”
“Can you, Percy? Does your wife nag you too?”
“Not much really, but she never stops talking. I don’t listen, of course, but there are times when I could cheerfully bash her one.”
“I could strangle mine sometimes.”
“You didn’t. Did you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. What... oh, the police thing. There’s a stupid woman next door — she was on good nagging terms with Mag and just because Mag went off without telling her — and why should she, for Pete’s sake — she’s spreading a rumor that I’ve done the old girl in.”
“Ah, so that accounts for the police business.” Percy began to feel a wave of sympathy for Dick.
“I’ve been half expecting her to go to them and report a murder. Not a shred to go on, of course, but I wouldn’t put it past the silly old cow. They’d only laugh at her.”
“They’d curse her and all you’d do is tell them where your wife is and Mrs. Drew would look a right Charleen.”
“Mrs. Drew?”
“From Twenty-two.”
“Of course, old poet — sorry, I’m a bit slow on the uptake. Not quite as easy as that, though. I haven’t the foggiest where she’s gone.”
“You mean you don’t know where she is?”
“No, and I don’t care. She’s welcome back any time, but I’m not going chasing after her. She walked out, not me.”
“But if she’s been gone more than a week, shouldn’t you report her missing?”
“If I did that, old boy, they’d be sure to find her. After all, she must have gone somewhere — to some friend or cousin that I don’t know about, or to a hotel. Back to England, even.”
“Could she really walk out just like that?”
“It wasn’t quite so casual. I say, old visitor, I’m being very inhospitable burdening you with my troubles without offering you something. What’ll it be? Something alcoholic, or are you a tea and coffee man?”
“Thank you, we generally do have a cup of coffee at this time of the day, but that would be imposing.”
“Not at all. Not at all. If you hadn’t called, I’d be putting the kettle on anyway.”
He led Percy through to a pleasant room with kitchen at one end and dining table at the other and seated him on a high stool at a counter that divided the room while he busied himself with the kettle. From his seat, Percy looked through a wide picture window to an unobstructed view of lake and mountains.
“I like this room best,” said Dick.
“It’s easy to see why.” Percy was enthusiastic. “What a magnificent open view. Mine’s restricted by trees.”
“Trees are good, too, but I love my mountains and the forest.” He put two steaming mugs of coffee and slices of fruit cake on the counter, which was wide enough for him to sit opposite Percy. For a while they were quiet, savoring the view and the coffee.
“You make an excellent cup of coffee and this cake’s good. You didn’t make it, did you?”
Dick laughed. “No, Mrs. Adams or Mrs. Irvine made the cake. I’m strictly a bush cook, and that doesn’t run to fruit cake. Mag was a dab hand at cake, I’ll say that for her.”
“So you had a barney one evening, and when you woke up next morning she’d gone?” Percy was anxious not to let the subject drop.
“No, no, it wasn’t like that. I got up very early and went into the Kaimanawas. I stayed there two days.”
“I see,” said Percy. It did make sense now. She was fed up with his always going off and leaving her, so she had plenty of time to pack a bag and take off. “And when you came back she was gone. It must have been a shock.”
“Percy, my friend, it was, and at the same time, it was wonderful. I’d had two glorious days in the bush — not stalking, just communing with nature as they say. Tane had soothed my shattered nerves. I had walked until I was physically exhausted and was filled with that glow of contentment that only such days can produce. Heaven would be a hot tub and a long, cool beer, but I braced myself for an ear-bashing.”
“Which didn’t come.”
“No,” said Dick, “talk about all this and a Seven too — only I don’t smoke, do you?”
“No, gave it up years ago, but I know how you felt. I hate coming home after a day’s fishing and being fussed over and put in a hot bath. But it must have been a shock for all that.”
“Yes and no. She had always threatened to leave home if I went into the bush alone. But of course she never had — before.”
“No. I can understand her being anxious if you do that. Isn’t it one of the first rules...”
“Aw, come off it, old comrade, don’t you start nagging now. I’ve been tramping in the bush since I was a kid.”
“But perhaps she thought you were getting past it.”
“Hey, steady on, how old do you think I am?”
“Sixty-five?”
“Well, I’m not, I’m only seventy-two!”
“Oh well, that’s different.” They had a good laugh over that.
“And I’m still very strong,” Dick said.
“I can see that.” Everything was quite clear to Percy now. Silly old codger didn’t know when it was time to slow down. No mystery now about his wife walking out. It was time to change the subject.
“This coffee is good,” he said.
“Bush style,” said Dick, topping up their mugs. Percy sniffed the coffee, appreciated the aroma, and then some other not so pleasant odor, crept into his nostrils. He lifted his head away from his mug and sniffed the air. Drains, perhaps?
“I say, Dick, you sure you didn’t do for your missus?”
Dick sniffed the air and frowned. He stood up and took a large meat cleaver off the wall, then he came round the counter and, trying hard to conceal his mirth, he suddenly grabbed the startled Percy from his stool and steered him towards the outside door before he could think what was happening.
“You have discovered my secret, so now you are implicated and must help me dispose of the corpse.”
And before the now thoroughly disconcerted Percy could gather his wits, he found himself being hustled down a flight of wooden steps that led down the side of the house and round the corner into the back yard where, to his horror, he saw Mag in her nightgown hanging from a beam that protruded from the wall. He let out a strangled cry and felt his knees buckle.
When he recovered, he found he’d been propped up comfortably against the wall. Summoning all his courage he looked at the “body.” He at once noticed two things about it: it had no head and a small black hoof was protruding below the hem of the nightie. He felt very foolish. What would his new friend think of him? It was obvious now that it was all a big joke and Dick would have been expecting a roar of laughter — not a swooning nincompoop. After all, what murderer would leave his victim hanging up for all to see?