The Cooktown Grave

by Carney Vaughan

  They all turned to Jan who cleared her throat and began the story she had told Harry and Mac out at the beach. She held nothing back. When she had finished there was silence for a few minutes while each of the listeners sifted through what they’d heard.

  “I’d like to add something here, if you’ll all let me.” Mac was the first to break the silence.

  “Please…Yes.” It was Helen. Mac read permission into the others’ silences.

  “Well…When Danny and I were growing up we were as close as two coats of paint. That relationship existed right up until Danny’s death or at least until he met Jan. When his body was found I was charged with his manslaughter because I had rewired his house. I had no problem with being charged, it’s the natural course of events, and if blame could have been sheeted home to me then I should have been punished. Later, I knew I wasn’t to blame. But I was so devastated by grief then I couldn’t think straight. I relied on the justice system to work for me without giving it any help myself.

  “Well the prosecution had a witness who testified that some time, a number of days really, after I turned on Danny’s power the main earth wire was still not connected. And he was right, I don’t dispute that. The crown went for me like a pack of pit bulls. And I still don’t know why but I got five years. I never meant to run, it was a spur of the moment thing. But that’s another story. What I want to tell you is why I know Danny’s death, rest his soul, was not my fault. Do you want to hear this?” Mac scanned their faces.

  “Yes David, please go on,” Sal invited.

  “What I’m going to say gets a bit technical and maybe boring but I need someone to hear me and understand me, for my peace of mind.” Mac took a deep breath and then began. “In New South Wales, as in most states, it’s mandatory to include a safety switch, a Core Balance unit. Of late, a more modern unit, a Residual Current Device, an RCD does the trick. It’s protection against electric shock.”

  “Are you saying you can’t get an electric shock in New South Wales?” Harry Rigby asked.

  “No! What I’m saying is that if an RCD is installed,” Mac explained, “you won’t receive a fatal current through you to earth.”

  “Go on.”

  “It’s law in all new domestic installations or old premises that are rewired that RCDs be included. Danny’s house was no exception. OK so far? Now, with devices of this nature, the main current carrying conductors, the active and neutral, are both passed through the centre of what is known as a current transformer. Now here I need to explain that when an electrical current flows in a conductor a magnetic field is created around that conductor. And the magnitude of that field is proportional to the strength of the current. Are you still with me?” he asked

  They all gave unsure nods and Mac continued. “The principle involved is this. Whatever current flows in the active conductor of a circuit also flows back through the neutral conductor. Now, depending upon how the conductors are arranged relative to each other the resultant magnetic field is either doubled or cancelled out. What I just said is true only if the two conductors are in close proximity to each other.”

  “Are they always close to each other?”

  “When they are connected to an RCD, yes, and the resultant magnetic field is always nil…Unless…” They all stared at him. “…some of the current escapes, via an earth path. In that case the current returning through the neutral is less than the current in the active conductor. That imbalance allows a magnetic field to exist which causes a signal to be generated by the current transformer. That signal is then amplified and applied to the tripping device of the safety switch. Are you still with me?”

  Sal was trying. “I’ll play devil’s advocate here, David. Would that unconnected main earth wire you earlier mentioned cause the switch to malfunction?”

  “No.” Mac said. “You see the switch only recognises the imbalance between the active and neutral. It can’t discriminate between an earth current returning through the system earth, or one that escapes. And I’m talking microseconds in the reaction of the switch.”

  “Escapes?”

  “Yeah, you know, I mean if you’re hooked up to a live wire or something and touch a stainless-steel sink or some other earthed metal. And there are plenty of earthed situations in a kitchen.”

  Sal was still with it. “Did the power that caused your brother’s death come from one of these protected sources David?”

  “Yes, the law claimed that it did. Danny was found on the kitchen floor with a metal table knife in his hand. The theory was that he was trying to dig a piece of toast out of the toaster while it was switched on. Apart from the fact he couldn’t have been electrocuted in that way he wouldn’t have tried such a silly thing.”

  “I’ll vouch for that.” Jan said.

  Rigby took a huge breath and released it like a steam whistle. “Well.” He looked at each face in turn and then said to Jan, “Well, Luv, either we’re all up a gum tree or there’s somethin’ pretty crook goin’ on ‘ere. What’re we gonna do about it?”

  “Let’s find these two blokes, and keep an eye on ‘em,” young Harry offered.

  “Yeah, that’s good f ’ra start.” said Rigby.

  “Do you think we could approach the police?” Helen asked. “I could tell them about the men who entered my house, and that one of them was driving a car which was following them the day they paid me a visit.”

  “I think we’d better wait awhile before we go to the cops.” Rigby stroked his jaw.

  “I agree with Mister Ribgy.” Mac said.

  “Let’s get these names right first. I’m Harry, OK,” the older Harry reclaimed his name, “he’s Sep and you’re Dave, I reckon.”

  “Jan could go to the police about her suitcase. That might stir the possum a bit,” Mavis contributed. “There’s no way they should have it.”

  “Let’s find these blokes if we can,” said Rigby.

  “What was the name of the client this Cade bloke was looking after, Jan?”

  “It was Valbac Proprietary Limited, it’s a cut price food and hardware chain and I think they were getting into clothing when I left.”

  “Huh! There’s an VPL store here in Cairns,” said Sep, “a mate of Dad’s runs it, doesn’t he Dad?”

  “Yes, Sep, I can talk to him about anything any of you might like to suggest. We are on close terms,” said Sal and then added, “There is something I would like to put to you people for consideration right now.”

  “And what’s that, Sal?” asked Rigby.

  “Well, we all concede there could be something ‘crook’ going on as you put it, Harry. And we also all believe this Jim Mitchell could have been murdered. If he was murdered, should we not consider the possibility David’s brother was also murdered because he was asking questions?” Sal’s hypotheticals were met with silence and he continued, “Excuse me David, I mean no disrespect when I offer these theories. But if this should be the case should we not consider the possibility you are also in danger because the person your brother suspected is here in Cairns? He seems to have materialised at the same time as the police who are also looking for you. If in fact murder has been committed we have no understanding of these peoples’ agenda or of their commitment.”

  The silence continued for several minutes and then Rigby spoke. “Christ! Let’s do somethin’, let’s find these bastards first, then we can work out what to do.”

  Chapter

  59

  Salazar’s mood was dark. The whole of yesterday had been wasted. Bill Jennison was the name given to him by Benson. This information had arrived at Benson’s North Sydney office by courtesy of his corrupt mole at Darlinghurst. It was accompanied by a facsimile photo of Brannigan and a copy of his file. The receptionist at the newspaper office was sorry, “but Mister Jennison is out of town for a couple of days, he’s covering a story at Port Douglas. May I take a message?” Harry B
ernard was not at home nor on duty at the hospital and the beer sodden neighbour of Mick Miller told Cade “I don’ know an’ I don’ care. Fuck off!” And Doctor David Bramble was doing a multiple shift and living in at the hospital. He couldn’t be approached.

  This morning’s work had been as fruitless as yesterday’s.

  As Cade drove out of town along the Mulgrave Road Salazar in the passenger seat was studying a list. Pathetic, he thought, judging by the footnote the little fool was trying to establish a relationship with him from the outset.

  Under a Cairns Base Hospital letterhead was the list…

  ELAINE JOHNSON

  4/1017 North Street, Woree.

  HELEN BELL

  2015 Herbert Street, Woree.

  DAVID BRAMBLE

  1145 Bayview Crescent, Edge Hill.

  MARY CABLE

  1739 Bannerman Street, Manoora.

  MICK MILLER

  3023 Toogood Street, Bungalow.

  HARRY BERNARD

  1812 Maynard Street, Yorkeys Knob.

  WARREN SMITH

  2136 Bransfield Avenue, Redlynch.

  ps the last three names are aides. Take care.

  E.

  He put a line through Elaine’s name. “Stop here.” He indicated a large supermarket and Cade swung into the car park, he did a couple of slow laps looking for a space.

  “Just stop.” Salazar disappeared into the complex and returned a short while later carrying a plastic shopping bag, “Go to Herbert Street.” he commanded. As the rental car passed the intersection with North Street, Salazar closed his eyes and the semblance of a smile softened his features.

  “We’re here.” said Cade. The lurch into the corner brought the Colombian back to the present.

  “Drive past the house and stop further down.” Salazar got out and went to the boot. He took the suitcase and a carry-on he threw over his shoulder and walked back along the footpath. When he reached 2015 he climbed the wooden steps and knocked loudly on the door. No answer, after several more bursts of knocking he motioned to Cade to join him. He took a stiff plastic card from his carry-on and by the time Cade had reached him he had the door open. They both slipped inside and closed it behind them.

  “Don’t disturb anything, leave no sign we were here,” Salazar ordered as he paced through the rooms committing the layout of the place to memory. In the bedroom he eased open the top draw of the dressing table and withdrew some soap perfumed pieces of female underwear. Cade gave an involuntary shiver as Carlos, eyes closed, caressed the soft fabric and pressed it to his cheek He looked almost gentle. “Fine quality,” he crooned. Suddenly regathering his demeanour, any warmth in his expression disappeared and the darkness returned.

  “Come, we will leave.” He nodded to the suitcase and headed for the door. Back in the car he said, “Find Redlynch, Bransfield Avenue, number 2136.”

  Cade pulled up in front of a small fibro cottage built on stilts. It faced the street across a neat front lawn and tidy flower beds. Salazar walked up the path, the ever present carry-on hanging from his shoulder. In response to his knock an animated conversation took place at the door. Salazar eventually disappeared inside. A half hour passed and he returned to the car. The flint had gone from his eyes. Without direction Cade headed towards the city.

  Chapter

  60

  “I’ll get some good deadlocks and install them on your doors. We should think about your windows as well.” Sep was talking across the breakfast table. Helen and Jan had stayed overnight at Sal’s insistence. Sep and Mac had spent the night in the sleep-out.

  “I’ll give you a hand.” Mac offered.

  Sal cleared his throat. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Son, if we are interested in finding these people as Rigby suggests we should. When and if they return to Helen’s house they would be alerted to the fact somebody knows they had been there. Or at least their suspicions would be raised. I suggest we do nothing to Helen’s house. And it’s always been my understanding that locks only keep honest people out.”

  “P’raps you’re right but we’ve got to do something, Dad.”

  “Let’s be patient and plan,” said Sal. “You should return to work as usual after your break and be discreet with any questions you ask. Don’t forget that, as well as the ladies, David also may be in danger from these people. Helen and Jan, I recommend that you stay here until we can be sure our suspicions prove groundless or until the danger is past. I believe David should stay here, too, until his problem is resolved. Now what else can we do?”

  The rental car crawled slowly along Toogood Street guided only by its parking lights and what little moonlight filtered through a light cloud cover. “Here it is, 3023, park the car I’ll need your help.”

  Salazar banged on the front door

  “What d’youse want?” A male voice asked through the panels.

  “Mister Miller?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Police here. Would you open the door please, Mister Miller, we have some questions for you.”

  “I’ve already answered all the questions I’m goin’ to!”

  “I know, and you’ve been a great help. We have to apportion the credit in this case to determine how the reward should be distributed.”

  “Huh?”

  As soon as the Colombian heard the lock turn and the bolt slide back his shoulder hit the door. The door hit Miller squarely in the face and he went backwards, nose spurting blood. With arms flailing, trying to keep balance, Miller’s calves caught the coffee table. He struck the back of his head against the far wall as he fell. He was already unconscious when he hit the floor. Salazar thrust the carry-on into Cade’s hands and hissed, “Take care of him,” before running through to the back of the house. Cade guessed Carlos meant ‘tie him up’ and not ‘care for his wounds.’ In the bag he found some heavy duty fishing cord he assumed was for the job. He could hear the Colombian breaking things, and crashing through doors at the rear of the house. By the time he came back into the front room Cade had Miller’s hands tied behind his back.

  “He was alone. Tie his feet together and gag him.” The gag was a problem. As Miller struggled for breath through his bloodied nose he sprayed blood over Cade who looked to Salazar for help. “Hurry yourself,” was the only response. They had to wait twenty minutes for Miller to regain his faculties. His noisy breathing was unnerving Cade whose hands trembled and whose own breathing became laboured.

  “Michael, can you hear me? Can you understand me?” Miller blinked at Carlos and nodded.

  “Michael, I’m going to free your hands and I’m going to ask you some questions. I will give you a pen and paper and you will write down your answers. If they satisfy me I will set you free and we will go and leave you in peace. If not it will be bad for you. Do you understand?” Miller would have agreed to anything and he certainly did understand. “No doubt you know by now, Michael, we are not the police. We do not operate under the same constraints as the police. I’m sure you understand just why I am telling you this.” Miller nodded vigorously.

  “Good. There is a man that you probably know as Mac, a trawler man. The police know this man as David Brannigan, an escaped killer. Now Michael, for our own reasons my friend and I need to find this man before the police do and I’m sure you will be able to assist us.” Salazar passed his knife-blade across Miller’s line of vision and he nodded again. “Very good Michael, now, where is this man.”

  Miller shrugged his shoulders and shook his head in a grim pantomime.

  Salazar placed the blade against Miller’s cheek for a few seconds before slicing through the fl
esh until the point was inside his mouth, pricking his tongue. “Once more Michael. Where is he?”

  Because he couldn’t shake his head an almost imperceptible movement of his shoulders brought a fearful expression to eyes streaming in pain. Carlos withdrew the knife. “Alright Michael. I’m going to give you pen and paper now and I want you to write the names of everyone you know who came into contact with this man. Think Michael, he is a killer, you owe him nothing.” To Cade he said. “Untie his hands.”

  Salazar presented the reverse side of Elaine Johnson’s list together with a ballpoint pen which Miller snatched from him in his eagerness to please. He started scribbling. There was that bitch Bell and her lapdog Bernard and Bramble the doctor, he was another arsehole, and Miller wouldn’t care if this nightmare visited them.

  “Full names.” Carlos interrupted him, Miller added first names to the short list and handed the paper back.

  “Three names. Come now, Michael, the man was in the hospital for three weeks and he came into contact with only three people. Do you honestly expect me to believe that? Hold his hands.” The Colombian reached for Miller’s belt buckle with one hand. He slashed through the leather strap with one stroke, carelessly nicking his victim’s abdomen. He left no doubt in Miller’s mind as to what was next as he fumbled for the zip.

  “Christ man…No…You can’t…Jesus!” Cade was pale-faced and weak from Salazar’s previous actions, this was too much for him. The scene before him began to dissolve in the mist of a faint. Miller wrenched his hands free and grabbed the paper, he began writing furiously. The list began to grow rapidly, Harry Bernard’s father, Billy Rigby and his father, Reg Williamson, it didn’t matter that Muriel Payne hadn’t been closer than two wards away, her name went down. There was Mary Cable, Warren Smith, Miller’s three cohorts in crime, Noel Parker, Bill Soames, Tom Jackson. And he threw in ‘Fat Jack’ McCarthy for good measure.