by Drew Lindsay
Ben stopped the bike about 100 metres from the holding yard and turned onto a dirt track which ran towards a wide ocean inlet. He switched the motor off and kicked down the stand. Tucking the cutters into his belt he moved silently into the bush. The moon was partly covered by white fluffy clouds, but it lit his way sufficiently without using the torch.
An occasional car moved along the roadway. Ben kept close to the inlet, using the low scrub as cover. He reached a rear corner of the holding yard within minutes. As he moved, he had been searching for something at least 3 metres long that he could use to reach the southern mounted security camera. He was counting on the fact that no-one at the Police station would be concentrating on monitors fixed on a boring holding yard.
A clump of bamboo grew near the water close by. Some of the stems had been broken in a storm. Ben found what he was looking for. He dragged a 4 metre long bamboo stem across to the side of the security fence and dropped it. He was out of range of both cameras but anyone using Wharf Road would see him. The flood lighting inside the yard was not nearly as bright as he was expecting.
It was going to be a matter of swiftness and luck. He didn’t have a problem with the swiftness. The luck was a three part unknown quantity. Part one involved no-one at the Police station noticing that one of the cameras was, or had been moved slightly. Part two was that no cars would come along while he was attempting to move the camera. Part three was that the camera housing was not welded to the metal pole, but rather attached with adjustable straps or similar.
No cars. No-one out walking. He grasped the bamboo pole firmly. Still no cars. He was about to make a run for the front left hand corner of the yard and target that camera, when car lights came around a bend in the road and approached. He froze. The car drove past, its headlights probing the darkness ahead.
‘He who hesitates, is lost,’ said Ben to himself. He sprinted to the southern corner and reached the first camera pole in seconds. He lifted the bamboo and swung it gently against the weatherproof camera housing. It didn’t move. He hit it harder. Still nothing. He looked back at the roadway. No cars. He swung the bamboo harder and this time the camera housing moved slightly to the right. He hit it again and it moved a little more.
Ben dropped the bamboo down and dragged it into the scrub, well away from the enclosure. He moved back to the rear southern corner of the yard. More cars passed; their headlights bright.
He was about to move along the back of the fenced enclosure when another vehicle rounded the bend from the Port Douglas direction. This car slowed down as it approached the holding yard. It suddenly swung into the entrance and stopped at the locked front gates. There was no mistaking the police markings on the car although the police sign on the roof was not illuminated. Ben flattened himself against the ground. The headlights remained on and the driver’s door opened.
Ben slowed his breathing. He was sure that someone at the Police station had noticed the security camera move. A lone uniformed policeman approached the gates and shone an extremely bright torch around inside the yard. Interestingly, he didn’t shine his torch at the security camera aimed into the yard. He didn’t even look at it. The policeman walked back to his car and climbed inside. The door slammed. The car backed onto Wharf Street and moved slowly forward, away from the holding yard and eventually out of sight.
Ben’s heart was pounding. He was tempted to call it quits for the night. The fact that the policeman didn’t seem at all interested in the security cameras made him conclude that it was just a routine patrol; nothing more.
He studied the camera he had bumped. Now it pointed a little more to the right than before, still taking in most of the yard, but not all of it and hopefully not the section next to the steel shipping container where Winston Mackay’s boat lay.
He moved silently behind the cover of the shipping container. Thankfully it was not pushed up hard against the wire mesh fence. He used the small bolt cutters to snip the wire in the fence at ground level, just large enough to crawl through. He left the cutters on the ground just outside the fence and reached the boat seconds later. The front of the timber boat faced away from the fence, which wasn’t ideal. Ben could see broken timber damage to the right hand side of the vessel up towards the front. He crawled along the sandy soil, pressed up hard against the hull.
An occasional car roared past on Wharf Street, but none slowed down in the vicinity of the holding yard. He set his tiny LED torch on it lowest output and inspected the hull as he moved towards the front of the vessel. The paint was reasonably intact with no signs of scraping on coral or rocks.
As he reached the site of the alleged impact hole he was more careful to shield the light with his left hand. The surveillance camera may have been repositioned slightly but its lens still appeared menacingly focused in his direction. He also had no idea how wide an angle the camera lens was. Whatever the case, there was no turning back now. He reached the hole. He noticed that parts of the timber hull planking were missing altogether. He felt this odd and not consistent with the boat simply ramming into a coral reef. The most telling signs of inconsistency with the coral reef theory however, were what appeared to be sharp cuts to the timber on both sides of the hole, more consistent with the use of an axe. There were no signs of scraping and no residual coral embedded in either the paint or the broken timber. This was no accident. This hole had been deliberately cut into the boat’s hull.
He took out his phone which had been turned to silent, and switched to camera mode. He took several close up photos of the hole in infra red mode and then once again risking detection, he turned the camera phone side on to the surveillance camera and took 3 flash photos in quick succession. He then scuttled back to the fence and out through the hole.
Ben felt extremely vulnerable as he sat on the ground outside the fence, but he had one smaller task to complete. He pulled soft wire from his trouser pocket and lifting up the mesh flap he had cut in the fence, wired it back into position. He then grabbed the bolt cutters and back tracked to the inlet. Keeping the scrub for cover, he used the light of the moon to locate the Harley parked just over 100 metres away.
He put the bolt cutters in the pannier and clipped it shut. He sat on the bike in silence for a long time. No cars passed. He clicked up the stand with his foot and kicked the starter lever. The bike roared into life and within seconds he was riding southbound on Port Douglas Road. He kept an eye out for the police vehicle but didn’t see it. A wave of relief swept over him as he rolled into the entrance to the Sheraton Mirage and along the jungle path to the parking area.
He stopped the bike close to the resort entrance in its usual place and removed the small bolt cutters from the rear pannier, tucking them under his shirt. He moved up the stairs surrounded by manicured jungle and through the reception area towards his room.
It had seemed to go extremely well; too well. In Ben’s experience, he had probably now run out of luck and things could only get worse from this point. Pessimism was one of Ben’s character flaws, although it did tend to make him well prepared to handle any sudden nasty situation which presented itself.
Seated next to Elizabeth, and after having made apologies for being late for dinner, Ben leaned close to her and whispered, ‘the hole was deliberate. It’s not a coral hit. I’ve got photographs.’
She stared at him. Susan was also watching them intently, as was Brenda. Brenda spoke first. ‘You two seem to be getting on extremely well at the moment.’ She smiled and winked at Elizabeth.
‘It was just a security thing,’ said Elizabeth, obviously embarrassed. ‘Ben and Susan will be discussing it after dinner. It’s just about the diving platform inspection tomorrow morning.’
‘Oh…,’ said Brenda, still smiling and playing with her fork. ‘I gather it’s just the two of you on that little excursion as well.’
‘Brenda,’ said Elizabeth, a slight edge to her voice.
; ‘I’m only jealous,’ purred Brenda.
‘You have nothing to be jealous about,’ snapped Elizabeth. ‘Derek and some of the crew will be with us tomorrow as well as uniformed security guards. This is not a pleasure picnic darling.’
‘Of course not,’ said Brenda, but her eyes were twinkling mischievously. ‘And I suppose the bike ride today was a security thing too?’
‘Yes it was as a matter of fact.’
Ben busied himself with a rare steak and side salad. He sipped a soft red wine and tried not to look at Brenda.
‘Then you must tell me all about it some time,’ said Brenda. Elizabeth tried to kick her under the table, but missed and connected with Derek’s shin. He sprang to his feet as if bitten and let out a cry of surprise.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Brenda, startled.
‘Someone kicked me,’ said Derek, regaining his seat.
‘I’m sorry Derek,’ said Elizabeth. ‘My foot slipped.’
Brenda burst into infectious laughter.
‘That’s OK,’ said Derek. ‘I just got such a fright.’
Ben kept his eyes on the half eaten steak in front of him. Susan was now smiling as she watched Brenda in such obvious merriment.
Brenda rose and excused herself. ‘I’m for a long hot spa bath,’ she said. Susan stood and pushed her chair back. ‘I’ll walk you to the room. Ben, can you give me a call when you’re ready for our briefing?’
‘Almost finished,’ said Ben.
‘Don’t hurry Liz,’ said Brenda as she walked towards the double doors. ‘I’m sure you and Ben have lots more to discuss.’
Elizabeth’s blue eyes flashed. ‘That girl can be a shit of a thing sometimes,’ she mumbled to Ben.
‘She’s only teasing,’ said Ben, pushing his plate back and laying his knife and fork neatly together in the centre. ‘You do it a bit yourself from time to time.’ Elizabeth was silent.
‘What time do we meet tomorrow Ben?’ asked Derek, rubbing his shin.
‘The security guards arrive here at 9 am. We’ll all meet in the foyer at 9.15 if that’s OK. Susan’s arranged a mini bus to the marina.’
‘Are we using the same boat and skipper?’ asked Derek. ‘He wasn’t too keen on taking another trip out with us after the last incident.’
‘We’ve calmed him down,’ said Ben. The security guards have given him some confidence, as well as an additional hourly rate,’
‘Splendid,’ He gave a slight nod in Elizabeth’s direction. ‘See you in the morning and perhaps you might consider wearing softer shoes at our next meal together.’
Ben smiled and Elizabeth looked helpless. Derek left. Ben took out his mobile phone and switched to the photo gallery. Elizabeth moved in close to inspect the photos taken of the hole in Winston’s boat.
‘Looks like someone has gone at it with an axe,’ she exclaimed as he flicked through the gallery.
‘Spot on. What I can’t understand is how this type of evidence got past the Coroner. I would assume a suspected death by misfortune at sea would go before the Coroner, even up here,’
‘Perhaps the Coroner wasn’t shown any photos as close up as these. A hole in a boat is a hole in a boat if you stand back far enough to take the shots.’
‘I think this Police Inspector has some explaining to do. I may go and confront him and see what happens.’
‘That could be dangerous.’
‘I think he would be more afraid of me than me of him, especially if he’s up to his neck in something with the guys out on that island. One phone call to the Police Commissioner or the Feds and they would probably start crawling all over the place.’
‘Wouldn’t that achieve a result for Joy if her husband is being held out there?
‘Or get him dead very quickly. Big police operations, especially up this way, have a nasty habit of stuffing up from what I’ve heard. My visit to that island requires stealth and the element of total surprise. That won’t happen with a full on police invasion.’
‘You’ve got guts Ben. I hope you have the brains to match.’
‘I’ll let you know what I plan to do, and when. I’ve still got to figure a way to actually get close to Skull Island at night and then approach it from the edge of the lagoon, underwater.’
‘And how do you get off the island later?’
‘Haven’t figured that one out either, but I will. Hopefully the same way I got on although I’m keeping everything crossed that I’ll have a passenger on the trip out. That may complicate things a bit.’
‘Some of you Australians are bloody mad,’ said Elizabeth.
Ben fixed her with his deep blue eyes. ‘Among other things, this is for Joy.’
She held his gaze. ‘I wish I could do more to help.’
‘You’ve been great Liz. It meant a lot for Joy to have you at her place today.’
Elizabeth nodded. ‘I couldn’t bear to imagine what that poor woman has gone through these past 4 months.’
‘OK. I’ll see you in the morning. I’m going to ring Joy and then bring Sue up to speed on all this.’
They left the dining room together.
‘An axe! What do you mean?’
‘Winston’s boat didn’t hit a coral reef Joy. Someone chopped a hole in it with an axe or something.’
‘But they found it on Woody Island. It had to get over the coral reef circling the island to get to the main beach where it washed up. It had to be coral damaged.’
‘Not if it was towed in through a gap in the reef and then deliberately damaged after being dumped on the beach. Is Woody Island all coral?’
‘No, most of it is sand and mangrove.’
‘There you go. I’ve taken close up photos to show you.’
Joy was silent for a while. ‘So he didn’t perish at sea.’
‘Not by crashing into a coral reef anyway,’ said Ben.
‘But why is Inspector Tanner lying about everything?’
‘Million dollar question Joy. I have a feeling we’re going to find out soon. In the meantime I’ll make preparations to visit Skull Island. I may need some help.’
‘I’ll do anything you need me to do Ben. You know that.’
‘Yes, I know that. I’ll be in touch soon.’
Susan sat on the huge lounge with her feet up on a coffee table. ‘Rodney’s 2 operatives came in this afternoon,’ she said. ‘I’ve filled them in as much as I can.’ Ben dropped onto the lounge beside her. ‘They will be back up only if needed. Otherwise they will keep out of the way. I’ll introduce you later. Now, bring me up to date and don’t keep anything from me Ben Hood.’
Ben showed Susan the photos he had taken of Winston’s boat and briefed her completely when he had finished; she sat back and folded her arms. ‘This is getting too big for us. This isn’t just guarding a movie princess and her team now.’
‘Well we can’t count on the Port Douglas police to help us. Their chief is up to no good and we don’t know how many other police are involved. I can’t have this place turned into a three ring circus while there is a possibility that Winston Mackay is alive out on Skull Island.’
‘You’re putting too many people at risk Ben.’
‘They want to go ahead with the movie and there is no reason they can’t. We’ll have good protection out there on the diving platform and as a side issue, I’ll check out Skull Island. I’m the only one taking the risk here.’
‘I’m not so sure. You can’t swim out to the damn island. You have to involve others.’
‘I’m working on that. I’ll be the only one going onto the island.’
‘I’m not convinced.’
‘OK, let’s see how tomorrow goes with the visit to the diving platform, and we’ll take it from there. OK?’
Susan nodded reluctantly.
Ben went to his room through the interconnecting doors. He didn’t lock his. He wasn’t sure if Susan locked hers, not that it
mattered.
“****”
Chapter Twenty Nine