wanted to show you. Half of these photos have Scott in them somewhere. Look at this. That’s the team that won the championship. There’s Scott in the front row.’
Matt saw a smiling kid not much older than himself. Just like Hone in the photo before, the pride of the boy’s accomplishments shone from his face.
‘See that guy there,’ said Hone pointing to the back row. ‘He’s almost finished at university now. And that one there—he’s just got married.’
For the next couple of minutes, Hone went through the team commenting on their successes in life. It seemed as if most of them now had a bright future. However, Matt noticed that some players had been skipped. He pointed to one of them. ‘What about him?’
Hone grunted. ‘That’s Cory Collins. He joined Scott in the gangs. Croke, I think they call him.’ Another grunt. ‘Look at him there. A nice friendly kid who wouldn’t cause anyone any harm. Now he’s got a mohawk with gang tattoos all over his head. He scares the hell out of people.’
Matt nodded. He’d seen him in the group earlier in the day, and yes, he was scary.
‘Did any of the others end up in the gang?’
Hone shook his head. ‘Not from that team. But there’s one who I had a couple of years earlier. Dennis Williams. Showed a bit of talent at first. Could tackle real hard. But then he started giving them facials and stuff like that. In theend, he lost his temper with a kid and nearly beat him to death. He was banned after that.’
Matt recalled a name that Jackson had mentioned that morning. ‘He wouldn’t be called Diz, would he?’
‘Yeah! That’s him. Have you met him?’
‘No. Jackson said that he was the one who hung him out over the boiling pool.’
Hone nodded. ‘Yes! That’ll be him. He’s turned into a very violent man. There’s something wrong with Dennis Williams. If you ever come across him, be very wary. Very wary, indeed.’
Chapter 9
It wasn’t until after dinner that Matt remembered the gold locket. With all that had happened since, it had gone clear out of his head. He sat cross-legged on the bed with his small collection of tools spread out in front of him. He’d brought them thinking that he might need to make some repairs to the metal detector, never thinking that they’d be used to open a valuable ancient heirloom. And he was certain it was valuable. The weight suggested lots of solid gold, and, while some of the pitted corrosion was deep, none had gone all the way through.
He started by picking the last bits of black tarnish out of the surface, until it was all golden. Next, he scraped around the join of the two halves, spending a lot of time on the hinge. Only then did he press the catch. It pushed in OK, but nothing opened.
Again he went around the join, this time levering it apart, bit by bit. Soon it was open enough to use his fingers, and a moment later he could see inside.
Matt had expected to find some corrosion inside. There wasn’t. In fact it probably looked as shiny as it had the last time its rightful owner had put it on. One side contained a yellowed photograph of a middle-aged woman. The other side was a golden mirror with an engraved inscription:
To my lovely Mary In memory of your mother Edward
Matt was disappointed. He’d been hoping for something that might help in identifying the body. But Mary? Mary who? The world must have millions of Marys, and many millions more if you went back in time. There would probably be an equal number of Edwards. He wanted more information. He looked at the locket again and wondered if there might be something behind the photo. People often wrote details on the back of photos.
It took only a moment to lever it out and find that his hunch was right. Written in fine black ink were the words:
Louise Miller August 1874
That was just what he wanted: a name and a date. Now he had something to work with. He brought out his camera and started taking photos. Matt had no doubts that there was
Matt saw a smiling kid not much older than himself. Just like Hone in the photo before, the pride of the boy’s accomplishments shone from his face.
‘See that guy there,’ said Hone pointing to the back row. ‘He’s almost finished at university now. And that one there—he’s just got married.’
For the next couple of minutes, Hone went through the team commenting on their successes in life. It seemed as if most of them now had a bright future. However, Matt noticed that some players had been skipped. He pointed to one of them. ‘What about him?’
Hone grunted. ‘That’s Cory Collins. He joined Scott in the gangs. Croke, I think they call him.’ Another grunt. ‘Look at him there. A nice friendly kid who wouldn’t cause anyone any harm. Now he’s got a mohawk with gang tattoos all over his head. He scares the hell out of people.’
Matt nodded. He’d seen him in the group earlier in the day, and yes, he was scary.
‘Did any of the others end up in the gang?’
Hone shook his head. ‘Not from that team. But there’s one who I had a couple of years earlier. Dennis Williams. Showed a bit of talent at first. Could tackle real hard. But then he started giving them facials and stuff like that. In theend, he lost his temper with a kid and nearly beat him to death. He was banned after that.’
Matt recalled a name that Jackson had mentioned that morning. ‘He wouldn’t be called Diz, would he?’
‘Yeah! That’s him. Have you met him?’
‘No. Jackson said that he was the one who hung him out over the boiling pool.’
Hone nodded. ‘Yes! That’ll be him. He’s turned into a very violent man. There’s something wrong with Dennis Williams. If you ever come across him, be very wary. Very wary, indeed.’
Chapter 9
It wasn’t until after dinner that Matt remembered the gold locket. With all that had happened since, it had gone clear out of his head. He sat cross-legged on the bed with his small collection of tools spread out in front of him. He’d brought them thinking that he might need to make some repairs to the metal detector, never thinking that they’d be used to open a valuable ancient heirloom. And he was certain it was valuable. The weight suggested lots of solid gold, and, while some of the pitted corrosion was deep, none had gone all the way through.
He started by picking the last bits of black tarnish out of the surface, until it was all golden. Next, he scraped around the join of the two halves, spending a lot of time on the hinge. Only then did he press the catch. It pushed in OK, but nothing opened.
Again he went around the join, this time levering it apart, bit by bit. Soon it was open enough to use his fingers, and a moment later he could see inside.
Matt had expected to find some corrosion inside. There wasn’t. In fact it probably looked as shiny as it had the last time its rightful owner had put it on. One side contained a yellowed photograph of a middle-aged woman. The other side was a golden mirror with an engraved inscription:
To my lovely Mary In memory of your mother Edward
Matt was disappointed. He’d been hoping for something that might help in identifying the body. But Mary? Mary who? The world must have millions of Marys, and many millions more if you went back in time. There would probably be an equal number of Edwards. He wanted more information. He looked at the locket again and wondered if there might be something behind the photo. People often wrote details on the back of photos.
It took only a moment to lever it out and find that his hunch was right. Written in fine black ink were the words:
Louise Miller August 1874
That was just what he wanted: a name and a date. Now he had something to work with. He brought out his camera and started taking photos. Matt had no doubts that there was
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