Novels 02 Red Dust (9 page)

'No,' she moaned.

'Tell me what the bloody hell is going on,' Patrick demanded. He held the phone in his hand.

Ignoring him, Gemma kept flicking, this time stopping at 19 May. Again the bold handwriting:

Tunnleys tea, Billbinya, 6.30.
Finally she came to

20 September,
BBQ footy club windup, meet Hocks

5.30 pm.
'Oh Jessie,' she wailed. 'He's done it.'

Chapter 14

Gemma woke to the cheeky
chat chat chat
of a willy wagtail. She felt angry, scared and sad but couldn't remember why. Her eyes felt dry and scratchy, as if she'd been crying.

Chat, chat, chat,
chirped Willy from her window sill, his tail wagging madly.

'Nick off,' muttered Gemma as all the discoveries of last night came flooding back. 'Oh Adam, what the hell did you think you were doing?' Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes.

She threw off the covers and dug in the cupboard for her sneakers. Pulling on a pair of trackie pants and a jumper, she quietly unclipped the flyscreen and pushed up the old window and climbed through, landing outside with a hollow thud.

Walking quickly to the track that ran along the creek's edge, she did a few warm-up stretches then started to run. She ran as if her life depended on it, as if she could outrun the questions circling in her mind:
How did this happen? And why didn't
I realise what was going on? How could I have been
so stupid?
Finally, when she could run no more, Gemma sank onto her knees. Breathing heavily she wiped the stinging sweat from her eyes and retched. She wiped her mouth and waited for her breathing to slow, then she walked to the edge of the creek and leaned against a gum tree, taking in the earlymorning glow. The magpies were warbling, their songs echoing in the stillness. A big group of galahs was perched in the gum tree, picking noisily at the small branches. A mob of cattle was still camped up from the previous night, although a few loners had already moved out to graze.

How can this morning be so ordinary when I've
just found out my life for the past eight or nine
years has been a lie?
Gemma wondered. She picked up a small rock and tossed it up and down, thinking. Suddenly overwhelmed by anger, she threw the rock as hard as she could at the trees.

'You mongrel, Adam Sinclair,' she screamed. 'What have you done?' The galahs flew into the sky, squawking with alarm.

One rock after another slammed into the tree, with 'You bastard!' punctuating every throw. At last her arm was sore and she stopped. The anger had dissipated slightly to be replaced with a burning desire to make sure she was not implicated in this terrible scheme. She would not take the fall for Adam.

* * *

Pat and Jess were sitting at the kitchen table with coffee and cereal when Gemma returned to the house.

'Morning,' said Gemma, walking past them. 'I'll just have a shower and be right out.' She felt like a stranger in her own home. Her life, an illusion.

The phone began to ring. 'I'll get that in the office.'

Grateful for the reprieve from their sympathetic eyes, Gemma picked up the phone. 'Hello?'

'Hi, Gemma, it's Ben Daylee. Hope I haven't called too early.'

'Don't worry – I'm always up by now. I got your message last night, but a few things came up and I couldn't get back to you. Sorry about that.' Gemma was amazed she could have a normal conversation given all that had happened.

'No worries. How're things out there?'

Without warning a lump appeared in Gemma's throat. 'Ah . . .' She couldn't get the words out.

'Gemma, are you okay?'

The tears threatened again, but she took a deep breath. 'Um, no, actually. I got some pretty bad news last night and I'm still a bit upset by it.'

'I hope it wasn't your dad?'

'Oh no, he's doing fine. No, it was about my late husband. Seems he might have been involved in a few illegal dealings I didn't know about.' There. It was out in the open. She figured she might need Ned and Ben's help to clear her name, so there was no point in hiding what she'd learned about Adam.

'I see,' replied Ben.

'You don't sound surprised.'

'To tell you the truth, I'm not. I'd heard a couple of things, but had no idea how accurate they were.'

'Well, you know the old adage – the one closest is always the last to know. Are you and Ned out this way today? It would be great to talk to you about a couple of things I've found out.'

'I'm not sure what Ned has planned, but if you want to see him, I reckon he'll be there. He's pretty fond of you.'

Gemma smiled into the phone. 'He's been such a huge support to me since Adam died. I'd really appreciate his advice now.'

'I'll see what we can sort out.'

Gemma came to the table looking refreshed after her shower. Jess gave her a hug and handed her a cup of coffee.

'Thanks . . . I've been thinking,' Gemma began softly, 'that if this is as big as you all seem to think it is and Adam was involved, then we need to pool our knowledge. That was Ben on the phone . . .'

'Who's Ben?' interrupted Pat.

'He's the new stockie working with Ned. Anyway, I've asked him and Ned to come out this afternoon so we can tell them what is going on. Ned was here a few weeks ago counting all the sheep and cattle because Adam's stock numbers didn't tally with the numbers on the computer or the numbers Bulla and Garry have. I want to know if he saw anything in our mobs that indicated trouble. I find it hard to read earmarks from a distance whereas those guys who are looking at stock all the time could probably tell me if there were animals in the flock that shouldn't have been.'

'That's a great idea, Gem,' Jess said. 'I think perhaps we should tell them about those wethers that were in Reimer's paddock, as well. You never know what those guys hear. They're walking encyclopaedias on every farm in the district.'

'Jess, I was wondering if you would go through my books and see if you can pick up anything funny. I don't think I'd be able to tell – plus I still need to be looking after things outside. We've got shearing coming up in a week or so.'

'Yeah, of course, Gem. You know I'll do anything.'

'Pat, I don't want to tell Mum and Dad what's going on – I don't want to worry Dad. Okay?' Gemma looked at him with raised eyebrows and stern eyes.

'No problemo, sis.'

'I think we should talk to Dave too, but I'd really like to talk to Ned first.' They all jumped at the sound of a knock at the door.

'G'day, Jack,' said Gemma when she opened it, pasting a smile on her face. 'How're you feeling this morning? The fellas said you were crook yesterday.'

Jack grimaced. 'Yeah, pretty crook yesterday, Gemma. Not feeling so hot today, either – was wonderin' if I could have the day off?'

'Yeah, that's fine, Jack. Do you need anything? I think I've got some lemonade somewhere if you need something to settle your stomach.'

'Nah, I'll be okay, just need to have a camp. I'll catch ya tomorrow.'

'No worries, call if you need anything.'

Jack headed back to the shearers' quarters as fast as his stom ach would let him, dialling as he went.

'I wandered over to ask for the day off because I still feel like crap and I overheard something,' he said as soon as the phone was answered.

'Yeah? What did you hear?'

'She had a redheaded woman and a bloke in there with her. I reckon the fella is her brother, down from Queensland to help look after the old man's farm. Anyway, Gemma asked the other woman to go through her books to see if she can spot anything funny in there, and she's asked Ned and that other bloke out to see if they saw anything strange when they were out counting the stock. But Bulla or Garry must have told them that the wethers were here 'cos they were talking about telling Ned about it.'

'Ah, so she does know about that. How's her demeanour?'

'Her what?'

The other man sighed impatiently. 'How did she seem? Scared? Angry?'

'Nah, she seemed fine to me. Offered me some lemonade to help my guts.'

'Right. Good job. Talk soon.' The phone went dead.

After he had hung up, the man stared into the distance for a few minutes. Things were beginning to move. Now, how to handle it? He dialled a number.

'Yes?'

'It's me,' he said.

'I know. I recognised the number.'

'Miss you.'

'Me too. Do you have news?'

'Yeah, Gemma knows about the wethers being dumped on Billbinya and she's asked Jess to go through her books. And Ned is heading out there today to talk to her.'

'Okay, keep me posted.'

'Did you hear anything much at the pub?'

'Refuse to answer until I get a coffee. Otherwise I'll tell Worksafe that I don't have a safe work environment. That you don't supply enough coffee.'

Dave flashed Craig a look and swung into a deli they were just passing. Craig climbed out of the car asking, 'Do you want anything?'

'Better get an iced coffee.'

'No worries. Hey, lookee here, isn't that the two stockies from Jones and Hawkins you were telling me about?'

Dave turned in his seat and saw the white Commodore sedan towing a trailer with lamb scales on board turn into a car park. Ned was driving as usual and Ben was in the passenger seat.

'G'day,' said Ned, heaving himself out of the car. 'Didn't think we'd be seeing you again,' he said to Dave.

'Oh? Why's that?' asked Dave, leaning out of the window.

'Well, I thought you'd get all of your info and then leave town.'

'Nah, mate, I'll stay till the job's done.'

Ben looked curiously at Craig and Dave caught the look. 'Oh, this is a mate from Adelaide. Craig Buchanan. Craig, these are a couple of fellas I met last week, Ned and Ben. Stock agents, I believe. Me 'n' Craig don't get to catch up much so he's up spending a few days while I work.'

'G'day,' Craig nodded to the two blokes.

'Well, you've found the best place in town for B 'n' E sandwiches and coffee,' said Ned, affably. 'I come here every morning, and I look like it!' Ned rubbed his large stomach.

Everyone laughed.

'Well, looks like this is what the doctor ordered then,' said Craig, moving towards the door. 'I'm in need of grease. Bit of a late night, with a few too many beers. Catch you later.'

'Yeah, catch you,' echoed Ned. Ben was yet to say anything. Dave and Ned chatted briefly about the day's plans and then Ned moved towards the shop. Ben nodded to Dave and followed.

'Best bit of grease I've eaten in a while,' mumbled Craig through his bacon and egg sandwich, as they passed in the doorway. Ben grinned. He knew how important grease was after a big night.

Craig hopped in the car and Dave started the engine. 'You're supposed to be keeping a low profile,' said Dave. 'You shouldn't be seen with me if you're going undercover.'

'Well, get me a company car and I'll be happy not to be seen with you. Man you're cranky today. It's supposed to be me that's sore. What's the problem?'

'Let's get to the office and I'll tell you.'

They drove in silence while Craig devoured his sandwich and coffee.

Back at the station, Dave set up his notes and got his thoughts together before he started.

'Why don't you get over to the whiteboard and note down the important facts as I read them out from my notes. I want to look back on this and see if we can find the common thread I think is there.' Dave flicked through his notes until he found the one he wanted. 'Okay, first interview. Brathen Farms, owned by Ken and Judy Brathen. They think they've had about three hundred ewes go missing over the past twelve months. Not all in one lot – just ten here, twenty there. Haven't seen any obvious evidence that the stock was taken. They know Adam and Gemma Sinclair only by sight. The farm is about a hundred k from Billbinya.' Dave looked up. 'I'm sure Billbinya is involved somehow. First there was that anonymous tip-off about Adam Sinclair – that's why I asked all the interviewees if they know Adam or Gemma. Also, it appears Adam started a Best Farmers group about a year and a half ago. It's one of those discussion groups that seem to be springing up everywhere. Gave him the opportunity to visit other stations and farms unannounced. But here's the clincher: yesterday afternoon Gemma informed me that the stockmen think they might have seen the stolen wethers in one of her paddocks.'

Craig whistled. 'That's a lot of circumstantial evidence stacking up. Do you reckon there's any chance of interviewees talking about the fact you've asked about the Sinclairs?'

'As in any interview, I ask that what we have talked about isn't discussed with other people so the case isn't jeopardised. But you know what country towns are like. If the real story isn't known, someone will make it up. Not much we can do about that. Next interview: Pleasant Park, owners Mark and Karen Neverby. They think about three or four hundred young sheep have gone missing over a period of two years. No obvious signs of theft. They don't know either Adam or Gemma Sinclair but have heard of them. Their farm is about one hundred and twentyfive k from Billbinya.

'Third interview: Carter Downs, owners are Jim and Mary Carter. Theirs was one of the farms that had the wethers stolen out of the yard. They're about thirty-three ks from Billbinya. Prior to that they had about ten steers taken about six months ago. Ned Jones, their stock agent, had been out to help them weigh the cattle and had taken a count. When they got them in to load them for sale, they were ten down. Jim drove all over his farm and couldn't find them. He couldn't find a broken fence where they could have got out so he is convinced they were stolen. He knows Adam and Gemma Sinclair, is involved with the Best Farmers group Adam set up and he and his wife have been invited to Billbinya for a meal several times.

'Fourth interview: Sam and Kylie Smith, Glenby. Know Adam and Gemma Sinclair and caught up with them once or twice in the past year. They're about sixty k from Billbinya and had three hundred wethers stolen out of their yards. Not sure if any other stock has gone missing.' Dave took a breath while Craig looked at the notes on the whiteboard.

'So in the last two years all the interviewees have had stock missing, all within about a hundredkilometre radius of Billbinya,' Craig observed.

'Yeah, and I got another half dozen cases exactly like them,' Dave said, waving his notes. 'But let's ask some questions that we need answers for. If it was Adam Sinclair, how did he know where the stock was? That's a biggie. One lot of owners didn't even know him, so how did he know the layout of the farm? What stock was in which paddock? I'm sure he wouldn't have risked just driving over the farm. Second, what happened to the stock once it was taken? How did he get onto the farm without the knowledge of the owners? Who did the stealing while he was wining and dining the victims? There are too many variables at the moment. Yep, no doubt he was involved, but how and why?'