The Kimberley Secret, page 11
‘Wow! This is a Christmas present. I had no idea – wonderful to see you.’
The countess looked at Jack and winked.
Jack took Alexandra by the hand. ‘Come, let me introduce you to someone special.’ He pointed to a petite, beautifully dressed old lady sitting in the chair next to his. ‘This is Madame Petrova, my great-aunt.’
‘Enchanted,’ said Madame Petrova, extending a bony hand with a stunning diamond ring fit for a Tsarina on her ring finger. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you. Come, sit next to me.’
After the excitement had died down a little, the countess stood up and raised her glass. ‘To absent friends,’ she said. ‘Merry Christmas!’
‘Merry Christmas,’ echoed the others. Moments later, dinner was served and the exquisite wines especially chosen by the countess began to flow, ensuring the Christmas cheer stayed cheerful and never lost momentum.
After dinner, the guests retired to the music room to watch the lighting of the Christmas tree and open presents. Alexandra knew all who were there, but she missed her parents, who were attending a medical conference in New York. Anna was sitting at the piano playing Christmas carols, and others were singing along.
Alexandra turned to the countess. ‘Where’s Jack?’ she asked, looking around the crowded room full of excited faces.
‘Come quickly, I’ll show you.’
The countess took Alexandra by the hand and they hurried to the entrance foyer together. ‘There,’ she said, pointing to the large open staircase leading to the upper floors.
Jack stood on a landing, carrying Madame Petrova in his arms.
She had one arm around his neck and was looking adoringly up at him. As there was no lift in the chateau and she couldn’t walk up the stairs to the bedrooms, Jack had decided to carry her up instead.
‘It’s been a long time since a young man swept me off my feet,’ said Madame Petrova. ‘This is my Christmas present; perhaps my last one.’
‘No way!’ said Jack. ‘Now that I’ve found you, we’ll celebrate many more together, just you watch.’
‘In that case, please make sure you don’t drop me.’
‘Don’t worry, you’re as light as a feather.’
Alexandra looked at the countess, tears in her eyes. ‘I’m so happy for him; let’s leave them to it. We’ll never forget this,’ she whispered and tiptoed back into the shadows.
Alexandra opened the door to the little chapel at the back of the chateau and looked inside. Jack was sitting in a pew at the front. It was well past midnight. A few candles spluttering next to a small Christmas tree on the altar sent crazy shadows dancing along the stone floor and up the walls, like angels celebrating.
‘I thought I’d find you here,’ said Alexandra and sat down next to Jack. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Of course not. It’s been quite a night.’
‘Sure has.’
‘Christmas is like that. It stirs up the past.’
‘And emotions and memories we like to keep locked up during the year,’ added Alexandra.
‘Quite so.’
Jack reached inside his shirt and pulled out the little cross. ‘Strange how this little cross has finally led me to my mother,’ said Jack, the sadness in his voice obvious, ‘and to a great-aunt I didn’t know I had, until too late.’
Alexandra reached for Jack’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Certain things are meant to be.’
‘Perhaps Gurrul was right. Certain things are best left alone.’
‘You couldn’t do that, Jack; not you. You of all people had to know.’
‘Well, at least now I know who my mother was, and that’s great. But everything I know about my father is purely circumstantial. Still too many questions.’
‘Perhaps not so …’
Jack looked at Alexandra. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘It’s freezing in here; let’s go somewhere else.’
Jack took Alexandra to the large kitchen in the basement, which only a short time ago had been a hive of Christmas activity. A mouth-watering aroma of roast goose and spices still hung in the air, and a teacake had been left on the refectory table in front of the huge stone fireplace for late-night visitors looking for a snack.
Jack pointed to the table, polished smooth and shiny around the edges by countless elbows. ‘This is my favourite spot; the cosiest place in the entire chateau, and the most popular.’ he said. ‘Cook never lets the fire go out and always leaves a tasty morsel next to the urn here. Isn’t it beautiful?’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s a samovar, for making tea. It’s been in the Kuragin family forever. A tea urn warming generations, she calls it. This is where she first told me about Anna and her disappearance. This is where it all began. Tea?’
‘Yes please,’ said Alexandra. ‘And it’s difficult to believe that it was only a year ago we met right here at the chateau just after Professor K died, and I was travelling to Sydney to take up my appointment at the Gordon.’
‘And I suggested we travel to Sydney together—‘
‘And you invited me to stay in your apartment, just like that.’
‘And you moved in, just like that. With a dangerous bloke …’
‘Well, I didn’t know that at the time, did I?’
‘So much has happened in a year. Your adventure with Blackburn Pharmaceuticals, your abduction …’ said Jack.
‘Alistair Macbeth and your brush with death in Somalia.’
‘At least it wasn’t in vain.’
‘No, it wasn’t. You brought down the British government.’
‘And you discovered a groundbreaking new drug.’
Alexandra nodded. ‘Professor K’s legacy.’
For a while, Jack and Alexandra sat in silence, sipping tea and watching the embers glow in the fireplace like the eyes of demons, watching.
‘I have a Christmas present for you,’ said Alexandra. ‘A bittersweet one …’
‘Oh?’ Jack looked at Alexandra, intrigued. ‘What is it?’
‘Certainty.’
‘How interesting. Care to elaborate?’
A few months after taking up her appointment at the Gordon, Alexandra had told Jack about the amazing progress in DNA sequencing and the impact the new, revolutionary technology had had on forensics. It was in that context that Jack had mentioned the bloodstains on the mural in Bryn Evans’s prison cell.
‘Remember our discussion about the bloodstains?’ said Alexandra.
‘Sure do. You said it was possible, but a long shot. If you could extract DNA from the traces of remaining blood, we could perhaps—’
‘Find out if—’
‘If Bryn was my father.’
‘Correct. And then you went back to the prison in Fremantle.’
‘I did.’
‘To get that sample we talked about.’
Jack smiled as he remembered what happened. When the tour reached Bryn’s cell, he made sure he was the last one to go inside. Then, pretending to be taking a close-up, he knelt down and, holding his camera close to the mural, quickly scraped off a small sample of the bloodstained plaster with a penknife and placed it in a small plastic bag. That was several weeks ago. As he hadn’t heard back from Alexandra, Jack had assumed the exercise was unsuccessful.
Jack looked at Alexandra. ‘I thought this was supposed to be some kind of Christmas present, not torture.’
‘All right, here it is: The DNA test was successful.’
‘And—?’
‘I can categorically state that the man whose blood we examined, was your biological father.’
Jack looked thunderstruck. ‘My God! Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely!’
Jack leaned across the table and embraced Alexandra. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘I can’t tell you how much this means to me.’
‘I know.’
‘All the pieces are falling into place. This confirms everything. This is proof.’
‘Looks that way.’
‘An exquisite Fabergé cross and a priceless pearl; a handsome Welsh pearler; and an adventurous young Russian aristocrat with a reckless streak.’
‘And don’t forget Sister Elizabeth, your grandmother,’ said Alexandra.
Jack shook his head. ‘And to think that I grew up only an hour’s ride from the mission without knowing ...’
‘Couldn’t have been easy for her. Staying away, I mean. She must have loved you very much.’
‘You’re right.’
‘What about Brother Francis?’
‘Was he the dashing SS officer from the Ritz in Paris she fell in love with, you mean? Was he my grandfather?’
Alexandra nodded.
‘You have no idea how often I’ve asked myself this question. All the pieces seem to fit. But we’ll never know for sure, will we?’
‘I suppose not. But does it really matter?’
‘Not really.’
‘What an exciting family you didn’t know you had – until now,’ said Alexandra, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. ‘It explains a lot.’
‘What do you mean, “it explains a lot”; about what?’
‘You! Why you are such an—‘
‘What?’
‘Incorrigible rascal!’
‘That’s a little harsh.’
‘Is it?’
‘Okay. But lovable, right?’
Alexandra took her time before answering, letting Jack sweat. Then she leaned over to him and put an arm around his neck. ‘Sometimes. Merry Christmas Jack,’ she whispered, and kissed him tenderly on the forehead.
Three Months Later: Coberg Mission; March 2013
Jack jumped off his horse, took off his hat and looked around. The Coberg Mission had been closed down many years ago, and a recent bushfire had done considerable damage to the deserted buildings. Most of the roofs had caved in, some of the walls and chimneys had collapsed, and the dirt road had been completely washed away during a summer storm a long time ago. However, the little chapel, which stood apart from the other buildings, looked just as he remembered.
Jack took a small metal container out of his saddlebag and slowly walked up the hill to the little cemetery behind the chapel. They are all here, he thought as he looked at the small gravestones set out in neat rows close to each other. All the Pallottine brothers and sisters who died at the mission over the years were buried there. The headstones had no surnames and no dates of birth, only a small cross at the top, the first name of the brother or sister, and the date of death. Jack walked along the rows, looking for two specific graves.
Brother Francis was buried next to Sister Elizabeth in the last row. I suppose that says it all, thought Jack and reached for the little cross he wore around his neck and never took off. For a while he stood in silence as he remembered his father’s death eleven years ago that had started it all. Then he turned away from the graves and looked pensively across to the barren ridge shimmering in the distance, and the familiar plains he had explored on horseback as a boy with Gurrul.
As he looked at the little box in his hand, Jack’s mind drifted back to the strange telephone call from Gurrul’s nephew in Wyndham two weeks earlier:
‘Gurrul’s dead, mate. He died suddenly yesterday in the bush, just like that. I was there.’
‘What happened?’
‘He had some kind of fit and then ... Just before he died, he asked if you would take him home,’ said the nephew.
‘What do you mean, home?’
‘To the Coberg Mission. Can you do it?’
‘Sure.’
Jack opened the little metal box containing Gurrul’s ashes and slowly emptied the contents on top of a rock next to Brother Francis’s headstone. Then he stood back and smiled as he remembered his friend’s face: furrowed like the parched outback earth and with deep creases and wrinkles crisscrossing his forehead that looked as if they could hold three days’ rain.
Jack watched as the morning breeze suddenly picked up and began to blow Gurrul’s ashes down the hill and across the plain, returning them to where they belonged.
More Books by the Author
The Empress Holds the Key
The Disappearance of Anna Popov
The Hidden Genes of Professor K
Professor K: The Final Quest
The Curious Case of the Missing Head
The Lost Symphony
The Death Mask Murders
Jack Rogan Mysteries Series Box Set Books 1-4
In 2013, I released my first adventure thriller – The Empress Holds the Key.
The Empress Holds the Key
A disturbing, edge-of-your-seat historical mystery thriller
Jack Rogan Mysteries Book 1
Dark secrets. A holy relic. An ancient quest reignited.
Jack Rogan’s discovery of a disturbing old photograph in the ashes of a rural Australian cottage draws the journalist into a dangerous hunt with the ultimate stakes.
The tangled web of clues – including hoards of Nazi gold, hidden Swiss bank accounts, and a long-forgotten mass grave – implicate wealthy banker Sir Eric Newman and lead to a trial with shocking revelations.
A holy relic mysteriously erased from the pages of history is suddenly up for grabs to those willing to sacrifice everything to find it. Rogan and his companions must follow historical leads through ancient Egypt to the Crusades and the Knights Templar to uncover a secret that could destroy the foundations of the Catholic Church and challenge the history of Christianity itself.
Will Rogan succeed in bringing the dark mystery into the light, or will the powers desperately working against him ensure the ancient truths remain buried forever?
The Empress Holds the Key is now available on my website at this link
https://gabrielfarago.com.au/my-books/the-empress-holds-the-key/
Encouraged by the reception of The Empress Holds the Key, I released my next thriller – The Disappearance of Anna Popov – in 2014.
The Disappearance of Anna Popov
A dark, page-turning psychological thriller
Jack Rogan Mysteries Book 2
A mysterious disappearance. An outlaw biker gang. One dangerous investigation.
Journalist Jack Rogan cannot resist a good mystery. When he stumbles across a clue about the tragic disappearance of two girls from Alice Springs years earlier, he’s determined to investigate.
Joining forces with his New York literary agent, a retired Aboriginal police officer, and Cassandra, an enigmatic psychic, Rogan enters the dangerous and dark world of an outlaw bikies gang ruled by an evil and enigmatic master.
Entangled in a web of violence, superstition and fear, Rogan and his friends follow the trail of the missing girls into the remote Dreamtime-wilderness of Outback Australia – where they must face even greater threats.
Cassandra hides a secret agenda and uses her occult powers to facilitate an epic showdown where the loser faces death and oblivion.
Will Rogan succeed in finding the truth, or will the forces of evil prevail, taking even more lives with them?
The Disappearance of Anna Popov is is now available on my website at this link
https://gabrielfarago.com.au/my-books/the-disappearance-of-anna-popov/
My next book, The Hidden Genes of Professor K, was released in 2016. Here’s a short sample to pique your interest:
The Hidden Genes of Professor K
A dark, disturbing and nail-biting medical thriller
Jack Rogan Mysteries Book 3
“Outstanding Thriller” of 2017
Independent Author Network Book of the Year Awards
A medical breakthrough. A greedy pharmaceutical magnate. A brutal double-murder. One tangled web of lies.
When convicted killer Maurice Landru reaches out from a Paris prison and asks for help to prove his innocence, celebrated author Jack Rogan cannot resist. Drawn into a web of hidden clues pointing to an ancient mystery, Jack decides to investigate.
But powerful forces will stop at nothing to possess the research, unwittingly plunging Delacroix into a treacherous world of unbridled ambition and greed.
Desperate and alone, she turns to celebrated author and journalist Jack Rogan.
Rogan must help Delacroix while also assisting famous rock star Isis in the seemingly unrelated investigation into the brutal murder of her parents.
With the support of Isis’s resourceful PA, a former police officer, a tireless campaigner for the destitute and forgotten, and a gifted boy with psychic powers, Rogan exposes a complex web of fiercely guarded secrets and heinous crimes of the past that can ruin them all and change history.
Will the dreams of a visionary scientist with the power to change the future of medicine fall into the wrong hands, or will his genius benefit mankind and prevent untold misery and suffering for generations to come?
The Hidden Genes of Professor K is now available on my website at this link
https://gabrielfarago.com.au/my-books/the-hidden-genes-of-professor-k/
My next book, Professor K: The Final Quest, was released in October 2018. Here’s a short sample to pique your interest.
Professor K: The Final Quest
An action-packed historical medical mystery
Jack Rogan Mysteries Book 4
Gold Medal Winner in the Fiction - Thriller - Medical genre!
2019 Readers’ Favorite Annual Book Award Contest
A desperate plea from the Vatican. A kidnapped chef. An ambitious mob boss. One perilous game.
When Professor Alexandra Delacroix is called in to find a cure for the dying pope, she follows clues left by her mentor and friend, the late Professor K, which lead her on a breathtaking search through historical secrets, some of them deadly.
Her old friend Jack Rogan must step in to assist while also searching for kidnapped Top Chef Europe winner, Lorenza da Baggio.
The countess looked at Jack and winked.
Jack took Alexandra by the hand. ‘Come, let me introduce you to someone special.’ He pointed to a petite, beautifully dressed old lady sitting in the chair next to his. ‘This is Madame Petrova, my great-aunt.’
‘Enchanted,’ said Madame Petrova, extending a bony hand with a stunning diamond ring fit for a Tsarina on her ring finger. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you. Come, sit next to me.’
After the excitement had died down a little, the countess stood up and raised her glass. ‘To absent friends,’ she said. ‘Merry Christmas!’
‘Merry Christmas,’ echoed the others. Moments later, dinner was served and the exquisite wines especially chosen by the countess began to flow, ensuring the Christmas cheer stayed cheerful and never lost momentum.
After dinner, the guests retired to the music room to watch the lighting of the Christmas tree and open presents. Alexandra knew all who were there, but she missed her parents, who were attending a medical conference in New York. Anna was sitting at the piano playing Christmas carols, and others were singing along.
Alexandra turned to the countess. ‘Where’s Jack?’ she asked, looking around the crowded room full of excited faces.
‘Come quickly, I’ll show you.’
The countess took Alexandra by the hand and they hurried to the entrance foyer together. ‘There,’ she said, pointing to the large open staircase leading to the upper floors.
Jack stood on a landing, carrying Madame Petrova in his arms.
She had one arm around his neck and was looking adoringly up at him. As there was no lift in the chateau and she couldn’t walk up the stairs to the bedrooms, Jack had decided to carry her up instead.
‘It’s been a long time since a young man swept me off my feet,’ said Madame Petrova. ‘This is my Christmas present; perhaps my last one.’
‘No way!’ said Jack. ‘Now that I’ve found you, we’ll celebrate many more together, just you watch.’
‘In that case, please make sure you don’t drop me.’
‘Don’t worry, you’re as light as a feather.’
Alexandra looked at the countess, tears in her eyes. ‘I’m so happy for him; let’s leave them to it. We’ll never forget this,’ she whispered and tiptoed back into the shadows.
Alexandra opened the door to the little chapel at the back of the chateau and looked inside. Jack was sitting in a pew at the front. It was well past midnight. A few candles spluttering next to a small Christmas tree on the altar sent crazy shadows dancing along the stone floor and up the walls, like angels celebrating.
‘I thought I’d find you here,’ said Alexandra and sat down next to Jack. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Of course not. It’s been quite a night.’
‘Sure has.’
‘Christmas is like that. It stirs up the past.’
‘And emotions and memories we like to keep locked up during the year,’ added Alexandra.
‘Quite so.’
Jack reached inside his shirt and pulled out the little cross. ‘Strange how this little cross has finally led me to my mother,’ said Jack, the sadness in his voice obvious, ‘and to a great-aunt I didn’t know I had, until too late.’
Alexandra reached for Jack’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Certain things are meant to be.’
‘Perhaps Gurrul was right. Certain things are best left alone.’
‘You couldn’t do that, Jack; not you. You of all people had to know.’
‘Well, at least now I know who my mother was, and that’s great. But everything I know about my father is purely circumstantial. Still too many questions.’
‘Perhaps not so …’
Jack looked at Alexandra. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘It’s freezing in here; let’s go somewhere else.’
Jack took Alexandra to the large kitchen in the basement, which only a short time ago had been a hive of Christmas activity. A mouth-watering aroma of roast goose and spices still hung in the air, and a teacake had been left on the refectory table in front of the huge stone fireplace for late-night visitors looking for a snack.
Jack pointed to the table, polished smooth and shiny around the edges by countless elbows. ‘This is my favourite spot; the cosiest place in the entire chateau, and the most popular.’ he said. ‘Cook never lets the fire go out and always leaves a tasty morsel next to the urn here. Isn’t it beautiful?’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s a samovar, for making tea. It’s been in the Kuragin family forever. A tea urn warming generations, she calls it. This is where she first told me about Anna and her disappearance. This is where it all began. Tea?’
‘Yes please,’ said Alexandra. ‘And it’s difficult to believe that it was only a year ago we met right here at the chateau just after Professor K died, and I was travelling to Sydney to take up my appointment at the Gordon.’
‘And I suggested we travel to Sydney together—‘
‘And you invited me to stay in your apartment, just like that.’
‘And you moved in, just like that. With a dangerous bloke …’
‘Well, I didn’t know that at the time, did I?’
‘So much has happened in a year. Your adventure with Blackburn Pharmaceuticals, your abduction …’ said Jack.
‘Alistair Macbeth and your brush with death in Somalia.’
‘At least it wasn’t in vain.’
‘No, it wasn’t. You brought down the British government.’
‘And you discovered a groundbreaking new drug.’
Alexandra nodded. ‘Professor K’s legacy.’
For a while, Jack and Alexandra sat in silence, sipping tea and watching the embers glow in the fireplace like the eyes of demons, watching.
‘I have a Christmas present for you,’ said Alexandra. ‘A bittersweet one …’
‘Oh?’ Jack looked at Alexandra, intrigued. ‘What is it?’
‘Certainty.’
‘How interesting. Care to elaborate?’
A few months after taking up her appointment at the Gordon, Alexandra had told Jack about the amazing progress in DNA sequencing and the impact the new, revolutionary technology had had on forensics. It was in that context that Jack had mentioned the bloodstains on the mural in Bryn Evans’s prison cell.
‘Remember our discussion about the bloodstains?’ said Alexandra.
‘Sure do. You said it was possible, but a long shot. If you could extract DNA from the traces of remaining blood, we could perhaps—’
‘Find out if—’
‘If Bryn was my father.’
‘Correct. And then you went back to the prison in Fremantle.’
‘I did.’
‘To get that sample we talked about.’
Jack smiled as he remembered what happened. When the tour reached Bryn’s cell, he made sure he was the last one to go inside. Then, pretending to be taking a close-up, he knelt down and, holding his camera close to the mural, quickly scraped off a small sample of the bloodstained plaster with a penknife and placed it in a small plastic bag. That was several weeks ago. As he hadn’t heard back from Alexandra, Jack had assumed the exercise was unsuccessful.
Jack looked at Alexandra. ‘I thought this was supposed to be some kind of Christmas present, not torture.’
‘All right, here it is: The DNA test was successful.’
‘And—?’
‘I can categorically state that the man whose blood we examined, was your biological father.’
Jack looked thunderstruck. ‘My God! Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely!’
Jack leaned across the table and embraced Alexandra. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘I can’t tell you how much this means to me.’
‘I know.’
‘All the pieces are falling into place. This confirms everything. This is proof.’
‘Looks that way.’
‘An exquisite Fabergé cross and a priceless pearl; a handsome Welsh pearler; and an adventurous young Russian aristocrat with a reckless streak.’
‘And don’t forget Sister Elizabeth, your grandmother,’ said Alexandra.
Jack shook his head. ‘And to think that I grew up only an hour’s ride from the mission without knowing ...’
‘Couldn’t have been easy for her. Staying away, I mean. She must have loved you very much.’
‘You’re right.’
‘What about Brother Francis?’
‘Was he the dashing SS officer from the Ritz in Paris she fell in love with, you mean? Was he my grandfather?’
Alexandra nodded.
‘You have no idea how often I’ve asked myself this question. All the pieces seem to fit. But we’ll never know for sure, will we?’
‘I suppose not. But does it really matter?’
‘Not really.’
‘What an exciting family you didn’t know you had – until now,’ said Alexandra, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. ‘It explains a lot.’
‘What do you mean, “it explains a lot”; about what?’
‘You! Why you are such an—‘
‘What?’
‘Incorrigible rascal!’
‘That’s a little harsh.’
‘Is it?’
‘Okay. But lovable, right?’
Alexandra took her time before answering, letting Jack sweat. Then she leaned over to him and put an arm around his neck. ‘Sometimes. Merry Christmas Jack,’ she whispered, and kissed him tenderly on the forehead.
Three Months Later: Coberg Mission; March 2013
Jack jumped off his horse, took off his hat and looked around. The Coberg Mission had been closed down many years ago, and a recent bushfire had done considerable damage to the deserted buildings. Most of the roofs had caved in, some of the walls and chimneys had collapsed, and the dirt road had been completely washed away during a summer storm a long time ago. However, the little chapel, which stood apart from the other buildings, looked just as he remembered.
Jack took a small metal container out of his saddlebag and slowly walked up the hill to the little cemetery behind the chapel. They are all here, he thought as he looked at the small gravestones set out in neat rows close to each other. All the Pallottine brothers and sisters who died at the mission over the years were buried there. The headstones had no surnames and no dates of birth, only a small cross at the top, the first name of the brother or sister, and the date of death. Jack walked along the rows, looking for two specific graves.
Brother Francis was buried next to Sister Elizabeth in the last row. I suppose that says it all, thought Jack and reached for the little cross he wore around his neck and never took off. For a while he stood in silence as he remembered his father’s death eleven years ago that had started it all. Then he turned away from the graves and looked pensively across to the barren ridge shimmering in the distance, and the familiar plains he had explored on horseback as a boy with Gurrul.
As he looked at the little box in his hand, Jack’s mind drifted back to the strange telephone call from Gurrul’s nephew in Wyndham two weeks earlier:
‘Gurrul’s dead, mate. He died suddenly yesterday in the bush, just like that. I was there.’
‘What happened?’
‘He had some kind of fit and then ... Just before he died, he asked if you would take him home,’ said the nephew.
‘What do you mean, home?’
‘To the Coberg Mission. Can you do it?’
‘Sure.’
Jack opened the little metal box containing Gurrul’s ashes and slowly emptied the contents on top of a rock next to Brother Francis’s headstone. Then he stood back and smiled as he remembered his friend’s face: furrowed like the parched outback earth and with deep creases and wrinkles crisscrossing his forehead that looked as if they could hold three days’ rain.
Jack watched as the morning breeze suddenly picked up and began to blow Gurrul’s ashes down the hill and across the plain, returning them to where they belonged.
More Books by the Author
The Empress Holds the Key
The Disappearance of Anna Popov
The Hidden Genes of Professor K
Professor K: The Final Quest
The Curious Case of the Missing Head
The Lost Symphony
The Death Mask Murders
Jack Rogan Mysteries Series Box Set Books 1-4
In 2013, I released my first adventure thriller – The Empress Holds the Key.
The Empress Holds the Key
A disturbing, edge-of-your-seat historical mystery thriller
Jack Rogan Mysteries Book 1
Dark secrets. A holy relic. An ancient quest reignited.
Jack Rogan’s discovery of a disturbing old photograph in the ashes of a rural Australian cottage draws the journalist into a dangerous hunt with the ultimate stakes.
The tangled web of clues – including hoards of Nazi gold, hidden Swiss bank accounts, and a long-forgotten mass grave – implicate wealthy banker Sir Eric Newman and lead to a trial with shocking revelations.
A holy relic mysteriously erased from the pages of history is suddenly up for grabs to those willing to sacrifice everything to find it. Rogan and his companions must follow historical leads through ancient Egypt to the Crusades and the Knights Templar to uncover a secret that could destroy the foundations of the Catholic Church and challenge the history of Christianity itself.
Will Rogan succeed in bringing the dark mystery into the light, or will the powers desperately working against him ensure the ancient truths remain buried forever?
The Empress Holds the Key is now available on my website at this link
https://gabrielfarago.com.au/my-books/the-empress-holds-the-key/
Encouraged by the reception of The Empress Holds the Key, I released my next thriller – The Disappearance of Anna Popov – in 2014.
The Disappearance of Anna Popov
A dark, page-turning psychological thriller
Jack Rogan Mysteries Book 2
A mysterious disappearance. An outlaw biker gang. One dangerous investigation.
Journalist Jack Rogan cannot resist a good mystery. When he stumbles across a clue about the tragic disappearance of two girls from Alice Springs years earlier, he’s determined to investigate.
Joining forces with his New York literary agent, a retired Aboriginal police officer, and Cassandra, an enigmatic psychic, Rogan enters the dangerous and dark world of an outlaw bikies gang ruled by an evil and enigmatic master.
Entangled in a web of violence, superstition and fear, Rogan and his friends follow the trail of the missing girls into the remote Dreamtime-wilderness of Outback Australia – where they must face even greater threats.
Cassandra hides a secret agenda and uses her occult powers to facilitate an epic showdown where the loser faces death and oblivion.
Will Rogan succeed in finding the truth, or will the forces of evil prevail, taking even more lives with them?
The Disappearance of Anna Popov is is now available on my website at this link
https://gabrielfarago.com.au/my-books/the-disappearance-of-anna-popov/
My next book, The Hidden Genes of Professor K, was released in 2016. Here’s a short sample to pique your interest:
The Hidden Genes of Professor K
A dark, disturbing and nail-biting medical thriller
Jack Rogan Mysteries Book 3
“Outstanding Thriller” of 2017
Independent Author Network Book of the Year Awards
A medical breakthrough. A greedy pharmaceutical magnate. A brutal double-murder. One tangled web of lies.
When convicted killer Maurice Landru reaches out from a Paris prison and asks for help to prove his innocence, celebrated author Jack Rogan cannot resist. Drawn into a web of hidden clues pointing to an ancient mystery, Jack decides to investigate.
But powerful forces will stop at nothing to possess the research, unwittingly plunging Delacroix into a treacherous world of unbridled ambition and greed.
Desperate and alone, she turns to celebrated author and journalist Jack Rogan.
Rogan must help Delacroix while also assisting famous rock star Isis in the seemingly unrelated investigation into the brutal murder of her parents.
With the support of Isis’s resourceful PA, a former police officer, a tireless campaigner for the destitute and forgotten, and a gifted boy with psychic powers, Rogan exposes a complex web of fiercely guarded secrets and heinous crimes of the past that can ruin them all and change history.
Will the dreams of a visionary scientist with the power to change the future of medicine fall into the wrong hands, or will his genius benefit mankind and prevent untold misery and suffering for generations to come?
The Hidden Genes of Professor K is now available on my website at this link
https://gabrielfarago.com.au/my-books/the-hidden-genes-of-professor-k/
My next book, Professor K: The Final Quest, was released in October 2018. Here’s a short sample to pique your interest.
Professor K: The Final Quest
An action-packed historical medical mystery
Jack Rogan Mysteries Book 4
Gold Medal Winner in the Fiction - Thriller - Medical genre!
2019 Readers’ Favorite Annual Book Award Contest
A desperate plea from the Vatican. A kidnapped chef. An ambitious mob boss. One perilous game.
When Professor Alexandra Delacroix is called in to find a cure for the dying pope, she follows clues left by her mentor and friend, the late Professor K, which lead her on a breathtaking search through historical secrets, some of them deadly.
Her old friend Jack Rogan must step in to assist while also searching for kidnapped Top Chef Europe winner, Lorenza da Baggio.
