It was a clear crisp day in the Victorian country, not far from the historic Sovereign Hill gold mining town. Jamie Scott had permission from the local landowner to be there at the creek and he felt, as he did on every excursion, that this could be his day. The slurping, sloshing noise of water and gravel side to side in the pan was hypnotic. If it wasn’t for the ache in Jamie’s knees as he squatted it would have been a relaxing experience. He was alone at the creek and had been working for about an hour with not a lot to show for the effort. A few glittering specks were stored carefully away in his little bottle. Panning for gold was a hobby for Jamie rather than a serious pursuit. He used to take the kids panning when they were young. That’s when he became hooked – the thrill of the discovery – the outdoors experience – the private time, all contributed to his enjoyment. Now every year he took a few days off work to head out alone with high expectations of returning with a bag of gold.
The flash of reflected light caught him by surprise. Jamie was still washing the larger gravel from the top of the slurry in the pan. He wasn’t expecting any results until he got down to the finer sand where gold specks usually settled. Jamie stopped and peered into the pan as the water settled. He could hardly believe what he saw. It was a ring. He picked it out of the stones. It was an engagement ring with a sizable central diamond and other smaller ones surrounding it. Jamie examined it closely and noticed two letters LM engraved on the underside of the gold band. The thought of keeping the ring didn’t enter his mind and he started to consider how he might find the owner. The engraved initials would definitely help.
After another hour or so of panning without luck, Jamie decided to pack up and drive to see the property owner, Harry Dennett, to see if they knew anything about a lost ring.
The homestead wasn’t far from the creek where Jamie was panning. When he arrived, old man Dennett was sitting reading a book on the front veranda. Harry Dennett looked to be well into his eighties and was lucky enough to have two sons and a daughter working the property. Perhaps the ring was connected to one of them Jamie thought.
Jamie parked his Land Rover facing the veranda and got out.
“Hello, back so soon,” Harry said as Jamie stepped onto the wooden veranda.
Jamie had only been here yesterday asking permission to pan on the property. “Found something yesterday - panning at the creek Jack - thought it might belong to you.” Jamie reached into his inside jacket pocket and produced the ring glistening in the middle of his open hand.
The old man closed his book onto his lap and took the ring from Jamie’s palm, between his thumb and forefinger. “It looks expensive,” he said as stared at it and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose to their proper position. “Someone will be missing this...You say you found this in the creek?”
“Yep, in my pan,” he replied.
“Maybe someone swimming lost it...No one here been engaged or married except me and it’s not my wife’s,” He twisted it around as he examined it. “I see initials LM on it. As you know our name’s Dennett - but I’ll tell you something. The folks that I bought this property from, 40 years ago - their name’s Madden,” The old man paused and looked up at Jamie. “The bloke, Henry and his wife – can’t remember her name - had two daughters. One daughter, Elizabeth, died before we came. The other daughter, Lena, married a local man, Dean Wicks, and still lives in town. There’s your LM – I’d check with her.”
Jamie was sure he’d found the owner. He wondered if he should accept a reward if offered. He found the address of Lena Wicks and headed in to town to return the ring.
The local newsagent was up for a chat and gave Jamie some background when he dropped in to get directions. Lena Wick, previously Lena Madden was in her sixties and lived alone in a modest one-bedroom apartment near town. Husband Dean had been a bank teller – became obesely overweight in his later years and died recently from pancreatic cancer.
“It’s definitely not mine, Mr Scott” Lena said sharply, standing in the doorway. She was obviously not going to invite Jamie inside.
“It’s got your initials engraved on it,” Jamie said.
“They’re not my initials. How many times do I need to say it?” She was clearly getting angry.
Jamie was puzzled by Lena’s reaction. She appeared to recognise the ring when he showed it to her and then backed off and denied any knowledge.
“Okay, I just thought it must be yours. No problem, I’ll hand it in to police. Sorry to be a bother.” Jamie said backing away. He thought there had to be more to this than Lena was letting on – maybe she had a failed romance. Jamie couldn’t imagine why she wouldn’t want the money – she didn’t appear to be well off.
The police sergeant was a heavy set older man, totally bald, with black-rimmed glasses perched on an imposing Romanesque nose. He leant across the desk examining the ring that Jamie had just handed to him.
“Nice ring – in the creek?” he asked with head down.
“Yes, I checked with Jack Dennett – you know – the property owner, and then I went to see Lena Wick. She used to live on the property when her name was Madden. She said the ring wasn’t hers even though the initials on it are hers...LM,” Jamie explained.
“Think I remember something about the Maddens. There was a suicide many years back. Just hang on a minute. I’ll go and check our records.” The sergeant put the ring on the desk, pushed his chair back with a spine-shivering scrape and strode off into the back room.
Jamie wasn’t all that interested in looking at the Madden family history. He just wanted to hand over the ring. He sat at the sergeant’s desk and gazed around the office.
“Here it is.” The sergeant walked back in and sat down with a folder open in his hands. He started to read out loud. “Investigation of the apparent suicide of Lizzy Madden - jumped from the top of Wilson’s falls at the Madden property and was pronounced dead at the scene. At the time she was engaged to be married to a bloke named Dean Wicks.” The sergeant looked up at Jamie. “He later married the younger sister Lena.”
Jamie looked baffled. “Lizzy Madden – her name was Elizabeth.”
“Yes, Elizabeth – she was known as Lizzy.”
“Thank you Sergeant, I think I got the wrong LM,” Jamie said as he picked up the ring. “I’m going back to see Lena – let you know how I get on.” Jamie left the station with an air of determination.
Jamie’s interest was now severely piqued. He needed to know. This time Lena didn’t open the screen door. She stood on the inside as Jamie spoke. “Mrs Wicks, you didn’t tell me about your sister, Lizzy. If this ring is not yours I’m thinking it must be hers.”
With a look of resignation, Lena opened the screen door and stepped aside for Jamie to enter. “You’re digging up some painful memories,” she said showing him into the small lounge room where they both sat.
“I’m trying to do the right thing,” Jamie said.” I know now that your sister committed suicide and I’m really sorry about that, but I can’t understand how the ring got into the creek for me to find.”
“Alright, Mr Scott...I’ll tell you the story. I’ve had to tell it quite a few times so one more time won’t hurt...I guess.” Lena settled back in her chair. “Lizzy was two years older than me. We both lived and worked on the property with Dad until our twenties. Well before I married Dean, he and Lizzy had been engaged. Dean was a local town man – worked in the bank. He would often come out to the property to visit. This one day – middle of summer – stinking hot – he came out to see Lizzy. She and Dad were out checking fencing in the south paddock. Dean and I decided to walk down to the creek. The water looked so cool and inviting, we decided to strip down to our undies and have a swim - completely innocent. It’s what you do out there. We were in there splashing about when Lizzy showed up. She just exploded, went off, accused Dean of being unfaithful and called me a slut. She pulled the engagement ring from her finger and hurled it into the creek and stormed off. Dean and I jumped out, got dressed and went to find her.” Lena paused and put her head in her hands.
“That was the last time we saw her until they found her body at the bottom of Wilsons Falls. She had committed suicide. Of course, Dean and I were distraught – seemed like it was our fault. Eventually, the trauma was like a bond that drew us together.”
“That’s a sad story,” Jamie said. “The ring has been lost for a long time and I can understand the painful memories.” Jamie put the ring down on the coffee table in front of Lena. “You should keep it.” Jamie stood up. “I’ll let myself out Mrs Wicks, goodbye.” He left the apartment, leaving Lena sitting sadly and went to his car. He sat there for a few minutes contemplating his emotions, satisfied to have returned the ring and sorry for reopening old wounds for Lena. He started the car and headed home with a story to tell.
Lena sat motionless staring at the ring on the table. Most of what I told him was true, she thought. Lizzy did come to the creek when we were swimming. She probably wouldn’t have reacted so badly if we hadn’t been naked. If she hadn’t been screeching and wailing like that – grabbing my hair - I wouldn’t have hit her with the rock. Lucky Wilsons Falls wasn’t far for us to carry her. Lena picked up Lizzy’s ring and put it on the wall shelf behind the photo of her dog. I wish Dean had been worth it, she thought.