Novels 02 Red Dust (18 page)

'Wait, Dave, I've got an idea. Why don't we watch the area? Let me do some surveillance on it tomorrow to see if anyone rocks up to feed the dogs.'

'You know, you might have something there. We've got the video and photos, so if there is some sort of stuff-up, at least we've got visual evidence. Yeah, let me sleep on it and we'll make a final call in the morning. How's that?'

'No worries.' Craig was happy as they followed the GPS signal back to camp. He loved this part of the job.

Chapter 24

Gemma opened her eyes sleepily and looked at her clock. It was 5 am. Man, she was tired. Shearing was always exhausting and combined with everything else that was going on she could barely keep her eyes open by the end of the day. She'd cleaned up the mess she'd made in her frantic search when she'd returned home after shearing yesterday, and had decided to get up early to try the ceiling.

Heaving herself out of bed, she quickly dressed and headed for the kitchen. After a hit of caffeine she went to the lounge room.

Taking a deep breath she climbed the ladder to the man hole, clutching a torch in one hand. She pushed at the manhole cover. Stuck. She pushed again and it moved, releasing a pile of dust onto her hair. She climbed to the topmost rung of the ladder and peered into the darkness. Her torch lit up spider webs and dust. It didn't look like anyone had been here for years. Gemma climbed down, blinking back tears of frustration. Another dead end.

Dave had decided to go with Craig's surveillance plan, so early morning found Craig camped under a river red gum about a hundred metres away from the clearing, with food, a two-way radio, a camera with a zoom lens, and a video camera. In the pockets of his overalls he also had an evidence kit.

Craig looked around carefully, then stood up and stretched. It was time to go stake out the clearing.

Craig moved slowly out of his hiding spot and made his way towards an outcrop of bush. On the other side of a stand of cassia trees and black oaks he found a sheep track. The path looked well worn and Craig surmised that either sheep walked through here quite often or whoever was feeding the dogs came in this way, not breaking through the scrub like he and Dave had the night before. Ducking under branches he followed the path until he came to the clearing. He was grateful for the breeze blowing his scent away from the dogs who slept on, seemingly unaware of his presence.

Craig scanned the area for a hiding place. Seeing a clump of saltbush plants off the track, he moved behind the thick vegetation. Satisfied he was now well hidden from all angles, he got out his camera and waited.

Sometime later Craig jerked awake. Shit. He looked at his watch. Midday. He saw the dogs were now sitting up to attention, their ears cocked as though they were listening. Straining his ears, Craig wished his hearing was as good as theirs. At last he thought he heard the growl of a motorbike. He clicked his radio button twice, paused, and then clicked twice again, signalling to Dave that the job was on. Hardly daring to breathe in case the dogs heard, Craig picked up his camera and held it ready, hoping to get photos of the whole encounter.

The motorbike roared closer and the dogs began to bark in welcome. 'Shuddup, ya mongrels.'

Craig's heart pounded at the voice. It was Jack Marshall.

'How many bloody times have I told ya to shuddup,' he snapped. As Jack came into view, Craig started clicking madly, hoping desperately that Jack wouldn't let the dogs off for a quick run. He had a cigarette in his mouth and was carrying a white garbage bag that looked like it was leaking blood. Ducking under a branch, he passed Craig's hiding spot. The dogs were straining at their chains, whining in anticipation.

'What's goin' on?' He put the bag down and bestowed a whack that was supposed to be a pat on each head. Jack opened the bag and took out two hind legs from a sheep, still covered in wool. Craig zoomed in. Maybe he was killing Billbinya's sheep for dog tucker as well as stealing.

'You're a bit lucky,' Jack was saying to the dogs. 'Wouldn't have got out here today if it wasn't for a problem with the fence between here and the neighbours. The widow wanted me to check it out so I thought I'd feed ya since I was out 'ere. Strung up one of the wethers for ya on the way.'

The dogs were dribbling with expectation and finally Jack threw the meat to them. He wadded up the plastic bag and stuffed it in his coat pocket. Checking their water he looked around. Happy that everything seemed to be as he left it, he grabbed the half-empty bottle of rum and took a couple of swigs.

'Catch ya, boys,' he said as he stubbed out the cigarette on top of the kennels.

Craig had caught the whole scene on camera. 'You're gone, buddy,' he thought as Jack glided through the bush and out of sight. As soon as he heard the bike roar away he got to his feet, knees cracking.

Back at his base by the creek he called Dave on the CB.

'When you're ready, mate,' he said, and settled under a tree to wait for his ride.

Gemma felt the wind pick up and looked across the sky. Towards the north thundery clouds were building. She yelled to Bulla, who was working in the yards, 'Reckon we'll get a storm?'

Bulla scanned the sky and nodded. 'Might do. Let's get these shornies up closer to the shed in case.'

Shifting the sheep that had been back-lined into the race leading under the shed, she went back to finish the ones that still needed spraying. She heard and smelled the rain before she felt it. When Gemma scanned the horizon, she could see the rain pouring down in columns, moving quite quickly towards the yards. A loud crack of thunder galvanised them into action. Bulla jumped over the sheep yards in a bound and ran towards the sheep, whistling at his dogs as he went.

'C'mon, Roady, go back,' he commanded.

Gemma called Scoota to her, knowing he'd be in the way, and sprinted to open the gate so the sheep could flow freely under the shed. The bewildered sheep baulked at running into the darkness but, with Roady's gentle persuasion, started trickling under slowly. By the time the sheep were under the shed both Bulla and Gemma were soaking wet, the rain still pelting down. They both dashed for the shelter of the shearing shed.

There were only three sheep left in each pen and the shearers had downed tools to watch the storm.

'Good thing it's Friday afternoon, hey, Gem?' Kenny said as she walked in. Gemma wiped the rain out of her eyes, swept her soaked hair back off her face and grinned. 'I'm never going to say no to rain, mate,' she said.

The shearers tore themselves away from the window and picked up their handpieces again.

'The creeks'll come down,' shouted Buster. 'We should get finished and get goin' or we'll be stuck here for the weekend.'

'We'll be able to get out tomorrow if we can't go tonight.' Paula shrugged. 'Cookie'll have enough food for us all.'

'Bull, want to grab a couple of cartons of beer out of the coolroom? I reckon these guys can have a wet day cut-out since it looks like they might be stuck for the night.'

'No worries.'

'Better check that Jack and Gaz are okay, too. Jack'll be drenched on the bike.'

Bulla brought back two cartons of beer just as Jamie pushed the last sheep down the shoot. Everyone made a beeline for the carton and then to the window to watch the rain that had subsided into a slow drizzle. Gemma shivered and pulled her jumper closer to her chest. It had become quite cold with the change. She cracked her beer and held it up. 'Hey, listen up, you feral lot. Here's to a great week's shearing and a better one to come. Thanks to the Big Fella upstairs for the rain.'

'Hear hear,' everyone yelled. Lisa reached over to the radio and turned up the volume. Kenny and Buster looked at each other and groaned. The three youths who Gemma had thought looked like shady characters decided to brave the rain and go to the pub in Dawns Rest, but the rest of the crew were happy to kick back at Billbinya.

Before long everyone was laughing and talking loudly and Gemma felt her cheeks begin to grow warm from the alcohol. Jack and Garry had joined the impromptu party, both wet from running through the rain.

Lisa suddenly grabbed a paddle and yelled into it. 'Okay, everyone, welcome to
Billbinya Shearing
Shed Idol.
Thanks to our judges, Buster, Garry and Jackie, you'll be scored out of ten. The rules are everyone has to sing to a song that comes on the radio, or you can choose a CD.'

She was drowned out by cries of dismay. 'I'm not doing that.' 'Bloody stupid woman.' 'Get a life, would ya?' 'On ya horse.'

Gemma stood up, laughing. 'Ah, come on, ya wusses, have a go, I've got some CDs in the ute. I'll grab them and you can decide which songs you're gonna try and kill,' she said and disappeared out the door.

'Woo hoo,' yelled Lisa. All the others looked at each other in horror. Lisa sidled up to Kenny. 'Watchya gonna sing, big fella?'

Kenny looked at her, bemused. 'You're bloody mad, woman.'

'Oh, have another beer. Hey, Jamie, I reckon Chisel should be up your alley!'

'Oh yeah, and what are you gonna sing, songbird?' he yelled back. Lisa bopped over to the carton of beer and grabbed a sixpack. Handing a beer to everyone she said, 'Here's some Dutch courage. Drink up!'

By the time Lisa had belted out a surprisingly tuneful rendition of Melissa Etheridge's 'Romeo' and Kenny had received twelve out of ten for his deep melodic version of 'Old Rusty Ute' by John O'Dea, Jack was on his seventh beer. He'd been watching Lisa. She'd be all right in the sack, he thought, legs were pretty tight. Not a patch on Gemma though.

He looked at Gemma, whose face was glowing with laughter and beer. Her hair had long since dried and she'd taken it out of its ponytail. It hung over her back and Jack could imagine it tickling his face. Tonight, he thought. Tonight he'd make a move. Then he could check the steers, see if the stock squad had found them, and head to the young jillaroo's place. He'd hole up there for the weekend. But before all that, Gemma was gonna be his tonight.

Idol
continued while the beer flowed. Eventually, after much indecision, Kenny was awarded a sixpack of beer and declared Billbinya's Idol, and it was time for a feed.

The hungry hordes made their way to the shearers' quarters for some tea, with Gemma and the Billbinya stockmen invited by Helen to join them.

An hour later, full and content, Gemma stood to go home. She'd had more than her fair share of beer, fun and food. It was definitely time for bed.

'Catch ya in the morning, guys. We'll check the creek out and see if you can get through.' She left to a chorus of goodnights.

No one noticed Jack slip out behind her.

Chapter 25

Dave and Craig had been battling the elements. It was nearly 9 pm and they had just made it to the track that led to the Billbinya homestead. After Dave had picked up Craig and looked at the photos, they talked about the startling discovery Dave had made earlier in the day. Sitting around the fire having afternoon smoko, he relayed how he'd found some cattle that looked out of place.

'The problem seems to be up on the boundary paddock,' Dave said. 'I've found one hundred and fifteen Hereford steers. Now, as we know, Gemma only runs Angus cattle. I've been over the map that Bulla gave us and there's nothing to indicate that there should be Hereford cattle here. The earmark is different, too. I need to talk to the Department of Ag and get access to the stock brands register. I want to find out who owns those steers.'

'Let's go and have a look,' Craig said. They packed up their camp, and drove towards the boundary paddock.

As they drove around the Herefords Craig saw what Dave had been talking about. They definitely didn't belong to Billbinya.

'Gemma would have said if she'd bought in cattle recently, wouldn't she?' Craig asked.

'Yeah, I reckon she would have.'

'Well, let's muster them into the cattle yards now. We'll confront her with them tomorrow.'

Dave scanned the sky. 'Dunno, that's a pretty black cloud over on the horizon. We could be in for a storm.' Craig waited for Dave to make the decision. 'Ah, we might as well, I guess. The cattle yards are only in the next paddock, aren't they?'

Craig nodded.

'Righto. Let's get the quad off the trailer and you can start the muster while I go open the gates.'

Craig rode until he reached the fence then started to circumnavi gate the paddock, keeping an eye on the storm clouds building on the horizon. The light had started to fade as he gathered the cattle into a mob. The steers were skittish and anxious and started to run in the opposite direction. They weren't keen on the noise the bike made but Craig had managed to contain them. With Dave back from opening the gates and flanking one side, they carefully drove them towards the yards. A big gust of wind blew and then the wind whipped up in earnest. As the rain started to fall, the cattle tried to canter away from the men. Craig, knowing if they lost the mob now they would be harder to muster the next time, revved the bike and stood up on the foot pegs as he cracked his whip. He managed to get the cattle turned and headed back towards the yards. Running now, the cattle didn't realise they were caught until the two men had herded them into the yards and the gate clanged shut. Dave wrapped a chain around the gates, padlocked it with a stock squad padlock, and then stretched yellow crime-scene tape around the yards. Craig pushed the cattle into a covered pen that had a trough and an old bale of hay. In the morning they'd send a truck to take the cattle to the closest sale yards for safekeeping.

The rain was pelting down, stinging Craig's face. After a shouted conversation, they decided to leave the bike under a tree near the yards and head straight back to the homestead in the four-wheel drive. They would have to be quick in case any of the creeks came down.

As it happened they didn't make it in time to avoid the last creek running. They sat on the edge for a couple of hours waiting for the waters to subside, watching the muddy water swirl around the bottoms of the river red gums and surge past them. Once it had fallen slightly, Craig, since he was wet already, tested the depth of the creek by walking slowly out into it. Satisfied that they could get through, and not really wanting to spend the night on the creek's edge, they inched their way through the gushing waters and then along the muddy, slippery tracks. When they arrived at the homestead, they were surprised to find lights blazing everywhere and Bulla and Garry backing the utes out of the shed.

What the hell is going on here?
Dave wondered.

Jack listened outside Gemma's bedroom window. He realised she was going for a shower and quietly made his way around to the kitchen door to let himself inside. Sliding through the darkness of the kitchen and into the lounge room, he positioned himself so he could see every move Gemma made when she came out. In the darkness he waited, breathing quickly with need. He almost groaned out loud when he saw Gemma move into the passage, naked and drying her hair with a towel. When she got into the bedroom, he watched her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair and rubbed moisturiser into her hands, legs and face before pulling on a nightgown. When she walked into the kitchen to get a drink, he moved into the light and said, 'Hello, Gemma.'

Spinning around to see whose voice had come out of the darkness, Gemma let out a little scream. 'Shit, Jack, you scared the crap out of me. What's wrong? Is there a problem?'

'Yeah, you could say that,' he said, one hand stroking the bulge in his jeans.

Startled, Gemma's eyes flew to his movement. Then she bolted for the door with Jack at her heels.

* * *

Bulla saw Dave and Craig pull up and flew out of his ute to talk to them.

'Gemma's been attacked!' he yelled. 'She's in the shearers' kitchen with Helen and Lisa. It was Jack, the bastard. He's bashed her good and proper and shot through. We're all going out looking for him.'

Dave and Craig looked at each other.

'I'll check everything out here,' Dave said quietly. 'You find out what is going on in the quarters.' Craig nodded, and they both got out of the car.

Dave walked over to Bulla and Garry, who were obviously shocked and distressed. 'Okay, calm down and tell me what you know.'

'Calm down? Get stuffed, we need to get out there and look for him. He'll be gone otherwise.' Bulla moved towards his ute.

'Bulla?' Dave's tone was firm. 'How about we let the coppers do that, okay? You tell me what's happened and I'll get some Pirie uniforms out here pronto.'

'We don't really know what happened,' broke in Garry. 'We had a few beers in the shearing shed and then we all stayed and had tea. Gemma went home and a while later she stumbled in through the door cryin' and screamin' and stuff. She had blood all over 'er face and her nightie had been ripped. She was screamin' that Jack had ambushed her in the kitchen. I dunno if he did anythin' . . .' Garry's voice trailed off as he realised what could have happened.

Bulla took up the commentary. 'We went to 'is room and it looks like 'e's done a runner. Can't find his clothes or anythin' and his ute is gone. Dunno why we didn't hear him leave.' Bulla looked around wildly, as if hoping to see Jack lurking in the darkness nearby.

'I'll get on the phone to Pirie. We'll get some uniforms out here. You both can come with me while we go and have a drive around. Do you know if Jack carries any weapons – knife, gun?' Dave looked from one to the other.

Bulla and Garry shook their heads. 'Not ever seen him with anything like that,' Bulla said.

'Righto, I'll have to come with you guys. Craig will take Gemma to town. Give me a description of the ute and I will pass it on to the blokes in Pirie.'

'White Ford ute with Victorian number plates. Don't remember the number but ya won't see many Vic plates round here. Oh, he's got a really obvious naked woman sticker on the back and a couple of Bundy Bear stickers on the side windows –'

Craig emerged from the shearers' quarters just as Dave hung up from the Port Pirie police.

'What's the go?' Dave asked.

'She needs to get to a hospital. He's bashed her pretty good. Looks like a bunged-up nose – don't reckon it's broken, though – couple of black eyes and a fat lip. She's holding her arm quite tenderly. She said he tried to drag her back into the bedroom.'

'Okay, you take her. I'm going to have a quick look

around here with Garry and Bulla. Seems Jack has taken his ute and some things from his room. Don't reckon we'll find him, but you never know – he may have headed out to get his dogs. Keep an eye out on the road for a white Ford ute with Victorian plates and a sticker of a naked woman on the rear window. I'll ring you with the plate number when the uniforms get back to me.' Dave glanced over at Bulla and saw he was listening. 'Why don't you rustle up a spotlight, mate, and I'll be right with you.' Dave waited until Bulla was out of earshot and then said quietly to Craig: 'Ask the hard questions without causing too much distress. But make sure you ask the hard questions, okay? Let me grab the camera before you leave.'

'No worries.' Craig hopped into the driver's seat and pulled over as close to the shearers' quarters as he could. Dave and Bulla paused in hooking up the spotty and watched as Helen and Lisa walked Gemma out to the car and gently helped her in.

'Stop dallying,' Bulla grunted at Dave and got into the ute.

'Okay, here's the deal,' Dave said to Buster and Kenny. 'You blokes don't need to come with us. Go inside and keep your eyes open. Call us on the two-way if he comes back but pretend you know nothing. Do not – and I mean this – do
not
try and take him down yourselves. And don't go into his room. I want to look it over and dust it for prints. Just sit tight, okay?'

'Okay,' Kenny said.

'We'll be back shortly.' Dave jumped into the passenger side of Bulla's ute, with Garry in the tray operating the spotlight. Bulla let out the clutch, spun the wheels and headed down the driveway.

'Bulla, I want you to go out to the top part of the place. Jack has some dogs tied up out there, hidden in the bush. He'll probably try to get to them before he leaves the property.'

'You found dogs? Jack can't stand dogs. Why did he have them tied up in the bush?' Bulla asked.

'I can't really comment on that now. Can you tell me what happened tonight? Have you got any ideas about why Jack would have attacked Gemma?'

Bulla told Dave about the rain, the beers, the singing competition and tea. 'Then Gemma said goodnight and took off to her house. I didn't see Jack leave. I
can
tell ya that he'd mouth off occasionally about Gem to us.'

'Mouth off? What do you mean?'

'Well . . .' Bulla looked uncomfortable. 'He thought she might be good in the ah, ya know . . .'

'Bedroom?'

'Ah, yeah. Suggested once or twice that Gaz 'n' me were on with her.'

'And are you?'

'No! She was our boss's wife and now she's our boss. We love Gem, but not like that.'

'So any ideas why Jack would have attacked Gemma, or do you think it was purely sexually motivated?'

'Well, I guess it looks like that. I know he thought she was a bit of all right, but I never thought he'd go as far as that. I did tell Gemma to lock her doors, but she never worried about it. Too trusting and naive is our Gemma. 'Bout lots of stuff, not just lockin' doors and that.'

Slipping and sliding through creeks and washedout tracks they arrived at the bush near the clearing. Garry flashed the spotlight around and picked up some impressions that looked like they'd been made by a vehicle, but they had been smudged with the rain. Dave searched the edge of the bush with his torch and found some fresh footprints.

He took photos while Bulla held the torch and then they moved into the bush, looking for the dogs. When they got to the clearing the dogs had gone. The chains lay in the dirt, glistening in the torchlight.

'We've missed him,' Dave said.

Jack pushed his old ute as fast as it would go. He knew he'd have to take the back roads to Pirie so he didn't run into any cops. They'd be out at Billbinya quick smart with the two stock squad guys already out there and all the other people around. Someone would have called them as soon as Gemma was game enough to come out of her room.

'Bloody bitch,' he thought. 'I really thought she'd like it a bit rough.' Jack grinned as he thought of the way she'd moved under him while he was trying to push her nightie up. Bloody shame he'd taken his mind off the job of controlling her for a couple of seconds. He looked at his wrist and grimaced. She packed a fair bite. Hurt the crap out of him and made him lose his grip on her hair. He still couldn't work out how the hell she'd got hold of the gun and where it had come from.

Sighing with frustration, Jack knew he'd really stuffed things. He couldn't go back to Billbinya now. He lit a cigarette and toyed with his mobile phone. This was one call he didn't want to make. Reaching into the duffle bag beside him, he came up with a full bottle of rum and unscrewed its top. Feeling the liquid burn his throat he thought about how he was going to break the news to the boss. His brother was not going to be happy. Dialling the number, he took another swig.

'How goes it?' asked a very drunk voice at the other end.

'Had a few, bro?'

'Yeah, partying with a very nice little lady I met in a bar. Bit busy. I'll call ya back.'

'Reckon ya might wanna hear this.'

'Shit,' his brother muttered. 'Hey babe, hang off on that, I want to watch. Gotta talk here for a sec.'

'I've had to shoot through.'

'What? What the hell happened?'

'Ya know me weakness. She got under me skin. Had to try and get it on with 'er. Sorry 'bout that but . . .'

'What did you do?' The other man's voice was steely and it sounded like he'd sobered up extremely fast.

'Got a bit frisky with her. She didn't like it much. The cops'll be out pretty soon, so I'm taking the back roads to Pirie. I'll camp the night with you and see if we've got a plan from there. Whaddaya reckon?'

'Is she badly hurt?'

'Nah, just a bit bloodied I think. Bloody bitch pulled a gun on me.'

'You're a bloody idiot. Just typical of you to stuff up at a critical time. Unbelievable. Don't come to my house. I'll meet you at the normal place, give you some money and you get to Adelaide. Lay low there for a while. We're going to need you soon – I've got plans to make a big hit on the bitch soon so we'll need you in the truck. How far away are you?'

Jack looked around. 'About fifty minutes away.'

'Okay, I'll see you there.' Jack's brother hit the button to end the call.