17

THURSDAY 26th JANUARY

BUSH FLIES WERE AT their summer height. They rose in clouds from street dung, and dispersed to lips, eyes, sweaty backs, and sugar bowls. A month before, they had gathered on Maggie Stuart’s corpse, animating it with their ceaseless scuttling and swirling. For nearly two days they feasted and reproduced on her bloating body, until it was denied them. And then, when the police turned their backs, the human scavengers arrived in their stead.

Daylesford remained excited by December’s tragedy but on edge no longer, now that David Rose was locked away. No one had seriously considered Serafino Bonetti to be the killer; he was that attractive and polite young man who worked at Colanchini’s Bakery in Vincent Street, who did the odd bit of carpentry and repairs on the side. And if he was the killer, why would the police have been expending so much effort in finding this other fellow? Even Detective Berliner had been called up from Melbourne to assist in the hunt; that’s how determined they were to bring Rose in, so the thinking went. And the reports from those who’d actually seen the man were hardly favourable — and most damning were the testimonies at the inquest, widely reported in the press and on the street.

All this, Pearson Thompson gathered, explained why Bonetti was in a quietly optimistic humour on this morning that he’d come to visit his client. But after his protracted resistance to sound advice, it was time the young fornicator sobered up.

‘Mr Bonetti. Serafino, my friend, surely enough is enough. He …’ Thompson pointed a finger over his shoulder to the adjoining cell, ‘has been there for more than two weeks now, yet you’re still here. Why? Because they have nothing on him but hearsay and prejudice. You, however, have blood-soaked clothes and no alibi. Except of course, you do have an alibi, and I have been remiss in my obligation to you not to reveal it to the police. Remember, your welfare is my concern — the honour of a lady is not.’

‘You’ve told the police?’ Thompson detected no particular note of annoyance in Bonetti’s tone. He supposed the poor fellow really had had enough of all this silly gallantry.

‘No, I haven’t. But I’ve taken it upon myself to let your lady friend know my views. So you can either tell the magistrate yourself, or leave it to her. Of course, I made it clear to her that, unlike yours, her word wouldn’t be doubted.’

Melbourne Argus

Telegraphic Despatches

Daylesford, 27th January

Serafino Bonetti, the suspected murderer of Mrs Stuart, was brought up at the Police Court this morning and discharged. Superintendent Reid explained that his detention had arisen from the untruthful and unsatisfactory nature of the alibi set up by the prisoner. It appears that the prisoner, on the night of the murder, was engaged in an intrigue, and had prevaricated in his answers to police in order to shield the woman’s reputation.

Otto Berliner put down his newspaper and considered the implications of this report. Bonetti had been in custody for over two weeks since Rose’s apprehension. The case against Rose was weak, of course, and remained just as weak now; Bonetti’s release not being due to evidence against Rose. The difference that Bonetti’s release made was the urgent need now for the police to make the case against Rose strong, to find evidence that was substantial, beyond the circumstantial case that had put him in gaol and kept him there almost a month. This ought not be enough for him to be held any longer, let alone for him to be hanged. Otto intended, was determined — compelled — to stay au courant with developments in Daylesford. He was, after all, entitled to regard himself as part of the ongoing investigation, even if his talents were currently and officially being applied to solving city crime. He thought to write to Tom Chuck, if only to let the man know that he’d been sincere in his wish to correspond.