Chapter 19. The Overnight Campsite; and A Slight Feeling Of Guilt
The following day, after completing work on the yellow Number One Holden, Jack Cadney and Angelica set out for Harts Range. Once on the main road they watched for places where travellers had recently left the carriageway, or for one reason or another had pulled to the side and stopped – Angelica to the left and Cadney to the right. Cadney told his wife they were looking for the Nissan’s tracks but said nothing about the missing driver.
Many of the tyre marks they saw were old so they kept going, but they stopped to check any newer looking ones. None of them matched the tracks Cadney was looking for.
Half an hour later they came to where the highway traversed a broad rise. Adjacent to the road some of this higher ground had been cleared and levelled to accommodate one of Telstra’s towering remote phone system poles. Long distance travellers going by often used the place as an overnight campsite, having learned of it by word of mouth.
On approaching the crest a motor home came into view, parked on the far edge of the clearing. Cadney pulled across to the wrong side of the highway and stopped opposite the turnoff track, then he and Angelica walked over to check if the abandoned Nissan had stopped there or driven in.
The compacted gravel carriageway was hard but some tyre marks showed in the sandy side drain. The most recent were those of the motor home, though its dual rear wheels had obliterated many of the preceding tracks. Evidence remained of the Nissan having been there, however.
It had come from the direction of Alice Springs and driven up onto the level area. Cadney checked a few metres in the opposite direction and confirmed what he already knew: that it had continued on towards Queensland.
Angelica called him back. Another four wheel drive had been there, she said, pointing out a sliver of overlapping tread pattern not covered by the motor home’s dual tracks. It came from the east before the Nissan, she said, then left afterward in the same direction. This meant the two had been there at the same time.
Perhaps it had followed the Nissan, Cadney reasoned, but then again, perhaps not; their departures have been separated by hours. Except why come to the Telstra pole then leave the same way? …unless the driver was a remote-area telephone technician, of course. That would explain it.
And what a prize job those blokes had, he mused enviously. Wandering the station country and Communities servicing their phones.
Nothing to it. Pick up the handpiece – “Brrrrrrrr”. Press some buttons: “beep boop beep … brrp brrp – Hello?” If not, just plug in a new one. I could do that. Then Cadney realised: the second vehicle’s tread patterns matched those of Tyler and Watts’ Toyota.
Yeah. And so did half the other four-be’s cruising around the bush, he reminded himself, including their own late lamented Troopie and the Jervois Station Toyota. They were a popular brand of tyre. He set off following the Nissan’s wheel marks up the access track toward the pole.
But the ground was hard packed clay and gravel, and within a few metres Cadney had lost sight of all the vehicle tracks. On reaching the cleared area he stopped. Where might the Nissan have gone from here?
Angelica was behind him. She pushed past with a glare that said You’re just hopeless and took over, hands behind back, leaning forward.
Cadney could see nothing and gave up trying. He followed a few steps behind, more or less looking at the scenery.
Metre by metre Angelica led him across the cleared hilltop as she followed where the Nissan had driven. Past the tower and the solar array’s fenced enclosure they went, toward the area’s southern extremity.
Soon they were abreast of the motor home. The owners were sitting outside under their roll-out annexe, watching as the pair came closer. In front of the man was an easel with an unfinished painting; alongside him was a small folding table with paint tubes on it and brushes. The woman was reading.
Cadney estimated the two as being in their mid sixties. When he waved they waved back then came over to say hello. Tom and Evelyn Winters were their names.
After introductions Cadney explained how they were looking for the tyre marks of a friend’s four by four. The friend was supposed to have come through this way about two weeks ago, he said, but they’d not heard from him and were assuming he’d been delayed. Angelica gave her husband a funny look, which Cadney ignored.
The Winters were aware of the indigenous people’s outstanding tracking abilities but were still taken by surprise. How could they see anything on that hard compacted ground? Then Angelica amazed them even more by remarking that a cadney lizard had gone by there only a short time earlier, as they’d watched the creature go past, but when she bent over to point out where it had walked the travellers could see nothing.
Neither could Cadney, who pretended otherwise. Angelica stood up again and invited Evelyn to join her in finding it.
Tom Winters was curious. As the women wandered away he asked what Cadney’s friend was driving.
“A Nissan Patrol,” Cadney replied, and gave him a brief description of the vehicle.
“I saw a Nissan tray-back like that,” Winters informed him. “At the giant ant hill, not far from where the highway crosses that station boundary grid.” He then explained how they were taking their time travelling through and how, a fortnight earlier, they’d camped for three nights just off the road there.
“I was sitting outside working on a painting of the ant hill when your Nissan went past,” Winters said, “– or one looking very much like it.”
“Going in which direction?”
“Toward Queensland.”
“Did you see the driver?”
“Yeah. It was a little bloke with dark hair. I had my easel set up by the road and got a good look at him as he went past.”
“Was he by himself?”
“I think so. I don’t remember seeing a passenger.”
“Any other traffic?”
“Yeah; about five seconds later. A Land Cruiser going the same way; a white station wagon. Not really new but not too old. The driver looked like a biggish man. Thick set.
“Right up the Nissan’s quoit he was, like he was trying to overtake it. Then half a minute later a second Cruiser went by – heading east as well. I waved as they went past but only the last bloke waved back.”
“Can you remember anything else?”
“...Nnnno. Well, you know, it was just traffic; you don’t pay that much attention.”
“Nothing at all?”
“Well, let’s see then... Both the Toyotas were white, I remember... Yeah, and come to think of it, one of ‘em had a busted front parking light. I couldn’t tell you which one it was, though.”
“Did anyone else go past?”
“Yes, later in the afternoon, some Aboriginal people in an old Falcon sedan, going the same way; then a middle-aged couple with a camper trailer. They were going west and stopped at the ant hill to take photos. I suggested they camp with us overnight but they wanted to keep going.
“Not long after they left I was having a leak when the last car came by, heading west. I saw it pretty clearly, too. It looked like one of the Toyota wagons I’d seen earlier, except there were two of ‘em in it. And I couldn’t swear to it, but I remember thinking how the passenger looked like the feller driving the tray-back.”
All this caught Cadney by surprise. He’d not thought to ask if the couple had seen anything because he’d assumed they’d be travelling through more quickly, as did most tourists.
Just then the women returned. Evelyn had the bearded dragon on her open hand and was restraining it by its tail. The lizard was passive but was glaring at them indignantly.
After Winters had inspected the creature his wife put it down. The cadney remained motionless for a moment then scuttled under the motor home.
Angelica bade the Winters safe travelling and returned to where she’d left off scrutinising the ground. It was automatic; she did it without thinking. Evelyn thanked her as she left and wen
t back to her book.
Winters then asked about Cadney’s name, the same word they’d used for the bearded dragon.
Its traditional name and his were the same, Cadney explained, and though an Aboriginal person’s name was not an actual secret, neither was it for wider general knowledge.
“But we all need some sort of whitefella name,” he added, “and I’ve been ‘Cadney’ ever since I was little. Whenever the cadneys were out I used to drive everyone crazy chasing ‘em around, they reckon. ‘Jack’ came from my father but nobody calls me Jack. It’s always Cadney or Jack Cadney.”
Angelica, meanwhile, without lifting a hand or turning Cadney’s way, was signalling him with finger gestures that she’d found where the Nissan and another vehicle had turned around, and that she could see the tracks of at least three men, one of whom seemed to have stumbled.
She took a sudden step forward and picked up a small flat stone by its edges. After a quick examination she began searching the area intently, bent over and head down, without changing her grip.
No more stones were retrieved, however, and she moved on again, holding the stone and signalling with her free hand as she slowly followed the Nissan’s departure tracks back to the highway. Once there she returned to the car.
Cadney said cheerio to the travellers then walked over to where Angelica had signalled him, where the Nissan and the other four wheel drive had turned around. Both had gone about sharply and scuffed their front wheels a little, so the tracks were easy to see.
Back at the car Angelica passed Cadney the stone she’d picked up. On it she claimed was a tiny spot of blood.
Cadney held the stone to the light, but even then it took a moment to find what she was talking about. Whatever it was, the two were almost the same colour – a darkish-brown speck on a dark brown stone.
Dried sap-beetle turd for his money, Cadney decided, but if Angelica said it was blood then blood it probably was. Best keep his mouth shut and hang onto it for Frazier to have checked.
Angelica was watching him, face grim. Cadney knew the expression. Just what exactly have you been trying to put over me here? it said.
It was nothing, he told her. Probably one of them had a nose bleed or maybe cut their finger or something. Who would know? When her expression didn’t change he went on.
“Let me explain it,” he said patiently. “The copper wanted us to drive along the highway and look for signs of the Nissan, right? And that’s what we’ve been doing. We got onto its tracks, too.
“Now, taking this stone back and asking about it will show that he’s really getting his money’s worth. He’ll see that we’re on the job and not just having a day out.”
Angelica responded with her best “Yeah, riiiight…” look, but again said nothing.
In the car Cadney wrapped the stone in toilet paper and put it in a plastic shopping bag. The bag was rolled tightly and stowed in the glove box. He then started the engine. When Angelica was ready they continued on towards the Harts Range Police Station.
Frazier was not there. The elderly Aboriginal man watering the garden had a message, however: The copper had to make an urgent trip to Alice Springs. He tried to ring you at the shop but they said you’d already left.
Cadney left a message for Frazier: Contact me as soon as you return.
Going home Angelica was in one of her moods, saying nothing and staring resolutely out the window. After a couple of attempts at conversation the frosty atmosphere became more than Cadney could handle.
What he and Frazier were trying to do, he explained patiently, was to locate the Nissan’s driver. In the morning they would search some more, he said, eastward from the Bonya turnoff. If they saw nothing they’d go in to where the Patrol had been abandoned, in case she might see something he’d missed.
Angelica exploded. She wanted nothing to do with any dead man or his car, she blazed. “—And why didn’t you tell me about this in the first place? If I’d known what was going on I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near the thing, let alone travelled to town in it!”
“We don’t know if the driver is actually dead,” Cadney ventured, feeling slightly guilty. “He could be perfectly all right and the whole business has some simple explanation.”
Angelica gave him a glare that would have blistered granite. The remainder of the journey was made in silence.
That evening Cadney elected to work on the car rather than endure the frosty atmosphere inside the house. The job he was doing took him until midnight, after which he showered and crept into bed.
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