The Dead Woman's House

By Drew Lindsay

St. Helena Island in Queensland’s Moreton Bay, was a prison to some of the most vicious and dangerous criminals in Australia during the early 1900’s. Many are buried there, some thrown down a deep well and left to die in agony. An old house now stands over the well. The house is empty. The old couple who lived there are dead. Some say it’s haunted. Someone is trying to burn it down. Ben Hood is hired to guard the house by the stunningly beautiful granddaughter of the deceased couple. It’s supposed to be an easy job. Dead easy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Drew Lindsay
• Release date: Jun 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476250892

Drew Lindsay

Drew Lindsay is a dynamic Australian Novelist and Writer. He has travelled extensively throughout Australia and the world. His background includes working as a Policeman and detective, then managing his own private investigation business as well as working in Fraud Investigation Management positions within the insurance industry.Drew is a PADI Divemaster and holds a private pilot's license. He has a great love of entertaining others with his vivid imagination. His novels allow the reader to escape into worlds of romance, excitement, humour and fast paced adventure. Drew lives in northern New South Wales with his wife.

Book preview

Chapter One

Ex NSW Police Detective Ben Hood had nothing to do and no-where to go and that is just the way he wanted it to be. He lay back on his lumpy, unmade bed in the tiny flat in Mosman with a partial view of Sydney Harbour if you leaned out far enough over the left hand side of the balcony off the small lounge room. From a timber framed window in the bedroom he could see blue sky, puffy white clouds, some faded red terra cotta roofs and eight TV ariels. He could also see a few grey pigeons perched on roofs. Some would find the view boring. He loved it. Not one single girl under the age of 25 anywhere to be seen. He had almost recently lost his life dealing with a boat load of them on one of his last assignment as a VIP security guard. Now he just wanted time out.

Ben was a big man, 51 years old and over 6 foot tall. He was muscular and very fit notwithstanding his age, due to regular and often brutal workouts with his personal trainer and fighting mentor, Akira Misaki, and various opponents. He had spent many years learning the life style and fighting ways of the Shin Obi Ninjutsu. He was good at this ancient form of Japanese soldier fighting. Extremely good. Akira’s biggest concern was that Ben’s acquired fighting skills were not married with the spiritual component that often accompanied and enhanced such skills. Akira often described Ben as a very special fighting machine, with no rudder to guide his skills in the appropriate direction.

It was 10 am and Ben had just started to drift back into a light sleep, swarming with faces and places from the past; usually troubling. His mobile phone rang and jarred him instantly awake. The dark faces fled but they were never too far away. Rodney Reid’s name was on the screen. Ben was tempted not to take the call. Rodney owned and operated the VIP protection agency for which he now worked. Ben had only worked a few jobs for Rodney. All were supposed to be nice easy work. All had become life threatening disasters notwithstanding successful conclusions.

‘I’m asleep. Go away.’

‘You’re talking to me so you can’t be asleep.’

‘I’m talking in my sleep.’

‘I thought you were going on a holiday somewhere?’

‘I’m thinking about it.’

‘In your sleep?’

‘That’s where I do my best thinking.’

‘I’ve got just the place for you to take a holiday and get paid at the same time,’ said Rodney.

Ben opened one eye. ‘So you’re going to pay me to take a holiday? It sounds like work Rod.’

‘It’s not really work. You can lie around and do nothing most of the time. It’s near the water so you can go fishing.’

‘I don’t like fishing.’

‘Then read a book or watch TV or fly your bloody remote control helicopters. I hear you are into those gadgets, although I had assumed they were mainly for children.’

‘I find them relaxing.’

‘Alright, along with your usual daily fee, I’ll throw in any remote control helicopter you like.’

Ben opened his other eye. ‘Any one?’

‘Within reason. What do they cost?’

‘Anywhere between $10 and $10,000 dollars.’

‘I’ll go to $300.’

‘If this holiday place you have in mind is a bit windy, you’ll have to go to at least a grand so I can control the thing.’

‘A thousand bucks for a bloody toy! You’re out of your mind Ben.’

‘Is it windy?’

‘I would imagine it is from time to time.’

‘Antarctica! I knew it.’

‘It’s not Antarctica you idiot.’

‘Are girls involved?’

‘Yes and no.’

‘Here we go,’ sighed Ben.

‘Where you will be staying, you’ll be alone. You have to deal with one woman initially.’

‘How old is she?’

‘How the bloody hell would I know. I’ve only spoken with her on the phone.’

‘Does she sound under 25?’

‘No. She’s a businesswoman.’

‘Is she over 50?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Then she’s probably under 25. Why do you get me tangled up with all these young women Rodney?’

‘I heard you got a new car.’

Silence

‘Yes or no?’

‘Yes. How did you know?’

‘Ben. Ben. It’s Rodney here. I know everything that happens in this town. V8 Vantage Aston Martin Roadster. 0 to 100 km/h in less than 5 seconds. 313 kw’s at max power. Gunmetal grey so I’m told.’

Ben was now sitting bolt upright on his bed. ‘How the hell would you know that? I haven’t told anyone.’

‘Word gets around quickly in the circles I move matey. You didn’t buy that mother on what I paid you for the last job. A gift perhaps?’

‘None of your business.’

‘A grateful father for getting his daughter out of that prostitution hell hole last month would be my guess.’

‘I’ve put it in a lock up garage. I’m too scared to take it on the road.’

`Rubbish! Bring it over so I can have a look at it. Rose is here with me now and she’s hanging out to see you again.’

‘I thought the Royal Prince Alfred was going to hang onto her until the end of the month?’

‘She bullied them into letting her go. She is a doctor after all. They always make the worst patients.’

‘Alright, I’m coming over, but only to see Rose. I don’t want another job just yet.’

‘It’s a house sitting job for God’s sake Ben. Piece of cake.’

‘Every time you tell me it’s one of those easy jobs, I end up almost getting killed.’

‘Just get over here. I’ll leave the gates open so you can bring your new toy right to the front door. Wouldn’t do to leave it out in the street like you used to do with the old Volvo.’

‘No-one steals Volvos.’

‘True, but your Aston wouldn’t last five minutes.’

‘I’ll be there soon.’ Ben terminated the call.

Rodney Reid was the Managing Director of a VIP protection agency appropriately named ‘Security for Important People’. His office and the hub of this operation was his double storied white weatherboard home in the leafy and well maintained upper/middle class suburb of Castle Hill, northwest of Sydney.

Ben eased the Aston Martin through the main gates and along the cobblestone driveway to the house. The huge metal gates slid shut behind him. Rodney opened the front door before he had turned off the motor. He was on crutches as he had lost his right foot below the ankle in a motor vehicle accident years before. Rose Hendricks came to the door, leaning on a walking frame. Rose was recovering from a gunshot wound to her back, received in Derby in Western Australia during Ben and Rodney’s recent mission to help her out of a spot of trouble (see Flesh Traders).

Rodney was beside the Aston’s door before Ben had time to open it. ‘Well bloody look at you and your fancy machine!’ he shouted.

Ben opened the door and climbed out, a wide smile across his face. ‘I’m terrified someone is going to run into me. It’s not relaxing to drive.’

‘Then give it to me,’ said Rodney, shaking Ben’s hand. ‘I’ll be totally relaxed in it.’

‘The way you drive, you’d have a crash within five minutes.’ Ben looked up at Rose standing in the open doorway. He walked to her and put his arms around her neck. She let go of the walker and grabbed his arms. ‘Good to see you finally out of hospital,’ said Ben.

Rose kissed him on the mouth. ‘I’d have been six foot underground by now if it hadn’t been for you. I love your car!’

‘Rod was right about it being a gift. Anthi’s father insisted I have it and wouldn’t take no for an answer.’

‘Well he’s a trillionaire anyway,’ said Rodney as he climbed the steps. ‘He’s probably got a dozen of them.’

‘Come inside and I’ll make a cuppa,’ said Rose, backing into the hallway with her iridescent blue walker. ‘The quicker I can move without one of these contraptions, the happier I’ll be.’

‘Nice colour,’ said Ben.

‘Rod picked it.’

‘Figured.’

‘If you are going to need a walker to get around,’ said Rodney, closing the door, ‘it might as well be bright.’

They gathered in the kitchen. Rodney attempted to relieve Rose of tea making responsibilities but she shooed him away. ‘I’m not a damn cripple!’

‘You bloody well are woman.’

‘And so are you.’ Rose glanced at Ben and winked. ‘Now take Ben to the sunroom and I’ll wheel out the tea on this little seat thing here.’ She patted the lightly padded seat on the walker.

‘She’s impossible,’ said Rod and he ushered Ben down the hallway and into the sunroom.

‘She’s doing remarkably well for someone who took a fairly large bullet in the back and had a huge tumour cut out of her at the same time,’ said Ben as he dropped into a cane lounge chair.

Rodney leaned his crutches against the wall and sat on the bright frangipani print cushions on the large sofa. ‘I still can’t believe she got through those gunshot wounds and survived bowel surgery as well. I knew she was tough matey but she’s amazed me.’

Ben crossed his right leg across his left knee and gripped his ankle. ‘Alright, let’s get the house sitting job out in the open so I can say no and get on with my life.’

‘It’s just an old house. Someone tried to set fire to it recently and they want a house sitter to live there for a while and keep an eye on things.’

‘Where is this house?’ asked Ben.

‘Near Brisbane.’

‘Queensland again. I’m getting a bad feeling about heading north Rod.’

‘It’s just an old house. It’s heritage listed because it’s over 100 years old and the family want it protected until they can sort things out with the Queensland Government and various parties.’

Ben uncrossed his legs and sat forward on the cane chair. ‘I already don’t like it.’

‘What? You don’t like old houses?’

‘Rod….within the last 20 seconds you’ve mentioned arson, heritage listing, family house protection and the Queensland Government and you want me to plonk my arse in the middle of that? You employ me to protect VIP’s. What’s this crap?’

‘There’s more I’m afraid,’ said Rodney, squirming uncomfortably. ‘The house is allegedly haunted.’

Ben sat back in his chair. ‘Allegedly?’

‘They say it is. The last security guard from a Brisbane company only lasted two nights and he won’t go back. The guard before him lasted three nights and then left without explanation. They had seen you from all that TV coverage you seem to attract and they made contact with me.’

‘And who are they?’

‘It’s a member of the family actually. She seems to have the controlling hand in what happens to the house and surrounding land as the legal wrangle continues.’

Ben shook his head. ‘This appears worse than the last job and that almost got us all killed.’

‘I think this one will be different.’

‘Why?’

‘We just have to guard the house. It’s easy shit Ben. There is no-one for miles around this place, and I’ll pay you $200 a day plus expenses.’

‘Where exactly near Brisbane is the house?’

‘I knew you would ask that. Ever heard of St. Helena Island?’

‘Didn’t Napoleon Bonaparte get exiled there?’

‘This particular St. Helena Island is in Moreton Bay off Brisbane,’ said Rodney.

‘Is it tropical?’

‘No.’

‘Palm trees and girls over 30 to serve you drinks by the pool?’

‘No. There’s no pool and no palm trees. There are ruins, a few cows, a cemetery and an old house….the house we need you to guard for a while.’

‘The haunted house?’

‘Yes.’

‘No.’

‘What do you mean no? It’s easy money for doing nothing.’

‘You’re not telling me everything Rod.’

‘You can count on that Ben,’ said Rose as she wheeled cups of tea and a plate of sliced fruit cake into the room on her walker and parked it next to Rodney. ‘The green mug is for you and the brown one for Ben. No sugar. Help yourself to the milk.’

Rodney poured milk into his tea and stirred it with a tiny silver spoon. He dropped the spoon into Ben’s mug. ‘Do you want milk?’

‘No,’ said Ben. ‘Black is fine.’ He moved to the walker and picked up the brown mug. ‘Do you want the spoon back?’

‘What am I going to do with it?’ said Rodney and he sipped the steaming tea.

Rose took the spoon out of Ben’s mug and began to stir her tea which was in a fine china cup. She walked unaided to the large sofa and sat down.

‘You’re not supposed to do that,’ said Rodney, somewhat alarmed.

Rose ignored him. ‘Have some cake Ben. I only made it yesterday.’

Ben took a small slice from the plate. ‘Do you know anything about this house sitting job Rose?’ he asked.

‘I know enough to think that it sounds a bit fishy.’

‘There’s nothing fishy about it,’ said Rodney. He faced Ben. ‘This woman sounds desperate mate. She’s frightened there will be another arson attempt on the house. There seems a lot of money tied up in this and once the house is gone, the Parks and Wildlife Service may lobby the Government to take back the land from the owners. Other than this old house and the five acres around it, the rest of the Island is a Historic National Park.’

‘You’re not suggesting that the Parks and Wildlife Service have engaged in arson?’ asked Ben.

‘No, in fact one of their visiting Rangers actually put out the last fire.’

‘There have been other fires?’

‘Apparently. I don’t have details.’

‘So who is trying to burn down the house, and for what reason?’

Rodney shook his head. ‘I don’t know. You’ll have to get that from Samantha Cruz.’

‘And she is they I presume?’

‘She’s the one who wants to hire you.’

‘So she asked for me specifically?’ asked Ben.

‘Yep.’

‘Because she saw me on the TV as a result of your last three low risk jobs that almost got me killed?’

‘There was no way I could predict how those jobs were going to turn out and you know it.’

‘And there is no way you can predict how this particular job will turn out either. Am I right?’

‘No he can’t,’ said Rose, ‘but it does sound a bit intriguing, don’t you think? I’d love to visit a haunted house.’

‘I don’t believe in haunted houses,’ said Ben.

‘Then you are perfect for the job,’ Rodney said. ‘No fear of the dark or witches, werewolves or vampires. You’re just cold and objective and able to do the job as a true professional, representing my very professional business operation.’

‘And you are full of it.’

‘Look. I’ll make a deal with you. Fly up to Brisbane and meet with this Cruz girl. Get some idea of what is going on and if you then want to walk away, fine. I’ll pay all your expenses and close the file.’

Ben was quiet for a few moments. He looked at Rose. ‘Sounds fair?’

She nodded. ‘Did he tell you how old this girl is?’

‘Oh please! Not the age thing again,’ said Rodney.

‘You can’t keep getting him tangled up with girls under 20,’ said Rose. ‘It’s not healthy for him.’

‘Rose! Please give me some credit for being able to maintain a degree of self control,’ said Ben.

‘I didn’t mean that in a bad way,’ said Rose. ‘It’s just that some of them find you attractive and available and they throw themselves at you. You’re only human.’

‘This one won’t,’ said Rodney. ‘Man hater from what I hear. Her husband dumped her and had an affair with her mother.’

‘Oh this just keeps getting better and better,’ said Ben.

‘That situation has something to do with the fight over this house. You’ll have to get those details from her,’ said Rodney. ‘And for the record, she is around 30 or so.’

‘Samantha Cruz or her mother?’ asked Ben.

‘The mother is around 50. Samantha is 30.’

‘Then the mother would be perfect for you,’ said Rose.

‘Is this a job or a speed dating session?’ asked Ben.

‘I’m sorry for poking my nose in too far,’ said Rose. ‘I’m totally out of line.’

Ben touched her gently on the shoulder. ‘I know you’re just looking out for me.’

‘The right woman will come along my darling.’

‘I’m in no hurry Rose. I’m still getting over my divorce.’

Rose looked into his deep blue eyes. ‘That’s a fairly strange thing to say. Aren’t you relieved that it’s over and finished?’

‘Am I supposed to feel that way?’

‘I was. I married a creep the first time.’

‘Perhaps I didn’t marry a creep,’ said Ben. ‘We had lots of great times together.’

Rose shook her head. ‘You’re a bit difficult to work out Ben Hood.’

‘And that’s the truth!’ exclaimed Rodney. ‘In the meantime however, I have the St. Helena Island brief printed up with all the relevant names and contact numbers. It’s that blue folder over there on the side table. Your business class airline tickets are included. You leave Friday morning. You have a meeting scheduled with Samantha Cruz at the Manly Deck Restaurant on the waterfront at Manly, 1pm sharp on Friday.’

‘Manly is in Sydney.’

‘They’ve got one in Brizzy too mate. This restaurant looks out over Moreton Bay to St. Helena Island in the distance. Very posh. They have a small boat ready for you

Reviews for The Dead Woman's House

[Terence Gibbons · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Drew has done brilliantly with this book. I have read many of his but so far this is the best. I look forward to reading more of his work. Well done mate!