by Alan Moore
‘Thanks, Fred. Can I talk to you about some of my ideas for chasing gold in areas that have been ignored to date?’
‘Of course. You always seem to come up with novel concepts. The success we had at Golden Girl has proved they are worth looking at. Charl is really very pleased with our progress and so he should be with the share price almost tripling in the past six months. Come on in to my office.’ The General Manager opened the door to his office and paternalistically put his arm around Petri’s shoulder as he ushered him in.
The offices at Spex were located at the northern end of Brookman Street, the extension of the infamous Hannan Street. Locals joked that it was sex in the south and Spex in the north. The small but adequate offices showed no sign of wasteful expenditure. It was something visiting shareholders and analysts were pleased to see. Too many of the successful, or apparently successful, ‘no liability’ companies spent more money on fancy offices and directors’ benefits than on discovering the minerals they claimed to be the target of their activities.
‘Petri, what’s on your mind?’ Fred Cooper rarely wasted time on pleasantries and got straight to the point.
‘Well, I’ve been thinking about new areas for our gold exploration. All the gold found so far has been associated with the greenstone belts and nearly all the ground has been pegged.’
‘Let’s have a look at the maps.’ Cooper pulled out a map roll and spread it out on the desk. It showed the geology of the goldfields and the patchwork pattern of licences scattered over the area.
‘Well, look at these elongate outcrops of greenstones.’ Petri traced the stripes of green on the map with his index finger.
‘A deliberate choice of colour by the geologists, I should think,’ chuckled Cooper.
‘It really makes them stand out against the pink of the surrounding ancient granites of the Yilgarn Block.’
‘Go on, tell me your idea. You’re not going to suggest that we go and explore in those granites, are you?’
‘No. No. Not at all.’ Now it was Petri’s turn to laugh. ‘But those greenstones have been exposed and eroded for many millions of years yet they are still gold-rich. Rich enough to host big mines.’
‘Yes, I heard that recent dating indicated that they are some of the oldest rocks in the world, more than three and a half thousand million years. So, what are you getting at?’
Petri nodded. ‘That’s right. So if the rocks were eroded over a large chunk of that time, where did all the gold go?’
‘You mean deposited somewhere else, like the South African and Canadian placer deposits?’
‘Exactly. The gold must have been transported to somewhere as the rivers eroded the host rocks. We know the west was very much wetter and the rivers more vigorous in the past, even the recent past, than now.’
‘So, what, exactly, is your point?’
Petri sat down on the opposite side of the desk and unrolled another map showing the geology of Western Australia and also the ancient drainage patterns of rivers long since dry.
‘Look here,’ he said and he started to explain his theory.
Alec woke very early on the Tuesday morning. His eyes, thickly encrusted with sleep from dried tears, felt scratchy and uncomfortable. He found it impossible to come to terms with how his life had changed so suddenly and dramatically. As he lay in dark, he tried again to convince himself that he had done everything in his power to find his vanished wife and baby.
He went over and over the events leading to his present predicament. Angry that he had been in such a hurry to start his research, he cursed himself for the risks taken, risks that endangered the most important people in his life. During his brief conversation on the phone yesterday his mother-in-law had listened in silence to his description of the events. When he finished and told her that he was still unsure of Katherine and Carolyn’s whereabouts she simply said that she was sure they would turn up. The words were supposed to be reassuring but her voice was steely cold. Alec did not know how to respond, other than with platitudes. When he heard the beeps indicating his timed call was about to end he told her that he had no more change. She was still talking when the line went dead.
The weak morning sunlight was penetrating the thin curtains of the caravan and making the unfamiliar shapes inside identifiable.
Alec dressed slowly and went for a walk along the foreshore. He inspected every human shape in sight, hoping that at any minute he would see the familiar form of his wife.
With determined steps he left the beach and approached the first hotel.
He entered the reception desperate to find inside a happy conclusion to what had become a nightmare excursion. There was no-one at the desk in the entry, so he walked into the bar knowing that in these small country hotels reception and bar staff were usually the same person. In spite of the early hour a woman was working behind the bar, stacking glasses from the previous night’s drinking.
‘Good morning,’ Alec approached the middle-aged woman, ‘I wonder if you can help me —’
‘Bar opens at ten, love.’
‘No, not that. I am looking for my wife and baby and wondered if they might have checked in here last night or early this morning?’
‘No, we have no guests at all. Most of our business is the bar.’
Alec’s face fell and the woman registered his extreme disappointment. His eyes, close to tears, struck a sympathetic chord.
‘Were you expecting her here? She may have checked in at another hotel or the motel.’
‘No, but …’ Alec poured out the whole story of his loss.
When he finished — with halting gulps to fight back tears —the woman said, ‘Look, just in case they’ve turned up at another hotel, I’ll ring around for you save you walking all around town. Just sit over there and I’ll phone around.’
Alec took down one of the chairs stacked on a table and sat opposite the bar counter. He strained to listen to the conversation on the other end of the phone and watched the shake of her head register negative news with each call.
Finally, she put the phone down. ‘Sorry, love. No-one with your wife’s description has checked in anywhere. The motel has some women but all are with husbands, no single women and no babies. I’m so sorry, love.’
Alec put his head in his hands. The woman sat down next to him, put her arm around his shoulders and tried to comfort him. ‘Don’t get too worried, love. They might’ve got a lift and are still on their way in. Tell you what, I’ll keep asking around. Keep my eyes open. If there’s any news I’ll call the police station. What was the name of the copper you’re dealing with?’
‘Murray. Sergeant Murray.’
‘Okay. I’ll give him a call as soon as I hear anything or if they check in later. Is there anything I can get you now, a coffee or tea?’
‘Thank you, no. You’ve been very kind. I think I’ll just take a walk around the town and back to the station. I am not sure what else to do.’
With that Alec dejectedly started a slow walk back to the police station by a circuitous route. On his way he stopped at a cafe and bought a cup of coffee with a muffin to serve as breakfast even though he didn’t feel hungry. He sat at the cafe table, miserably gazing between the street outside and the half drunk coffee until the drink was cold with a skin formed on the surface, clinging to the sides of the cup.
By mid-morning Alec was talking with Sergeant Murray who, mainly to get him out of the way, suggested that he call in at the garage. ‘Have a good look around the Kombi. See if you’ve missed anything. Maybe see if your wife possibly left a note.’
‘I looked for one when we found it but there was nothing.’
‘Have another look. It’s possible that it might have fallen on the floor or got under a seat, or been blown about. After all, when you towed the vehicle you told me that you thought your wife had a ride into town. At that stage you didn’t expect that she’d disappeared so maybe you didn’t look carefully enough.’
Murray didn’t really expe
ct Alec would find anything but felt it was a good excuse to get him to do something other than be a bother at the station.
So it was that Alec found himself back at the garage. By now he was tired. Although fit from walking during his field work, the extensive walking around Ceduna combined with his emotional state had exhausted him.
‘Won’t be ready for a coupla days, mate,’ Malcolm Harrison said as Alec appeared in the doorway. ‘Still waitin’ on the parts from Adelaide.’
‘No, okay. I realise that. I just thought I’d have another look around the Kombi in case there is anything there that gives us a clue as to where my wife might be.’
‘Sure, okay. Help yourself. Your Kombi is parked out the back. Oh, in case ya’re interested, the generator stopped working just ‘cause of old age. The brushes were completely worn down an’ it weren’t even working at half pace. Belt was loose too, no grip. I’m surprised the battery stayed good for as long as it did.’
Alec opened the Kombi side doors and peered in at the empty space that had been their home for the past weeks. It echoed with the ghosts of his lost family. He clambered in and sighed. The back seat was still folded down to form the double bed. Seeing it caused a pang in his chest as he recalled the last time he had lain there in the arms of his wife. He scrambled between the front seats and began a methodical search. Starting with the front shelf he looked at every small scrap of paper. Nothing but old shopping lists, a telephone number and fragments of reminder notes in Katherine’s handwriting. There was nothing explaining where she might be now.
‘Why the hell didn’t she leave a bloody note for me? She could have done that, at least.’ His concern expressed itself as anger as he climbed out and stood with his head pressed hard against the side window as if the pressure would take away his pain. He slammed the doors shut in frustration.
Alec walked slowly back to the police station to tell Murray the results of his search. He tried to think positively but dark thoughts crowded in. He arrived to find the sergeant was away on another case, so went into the garden, sat in the shade and watched the traffic, all the time thinking about what might have happened.
It was clear that someone had moved the Kombi. Almost certainly Katherine and Carolyn went with them either voluntarily or unwillingly. But who, why? It was most unlike his quiet, shy wife to go willingly with a stranger unless she felt safe to do so. Yet she was not there and there were no signs of a struggle. The more he thought about the situation the more anxious he became. By the time he saw Sergeant Murray pull up in the police vehicle, he was convinced that harm had come to Katherine and baby Carolyn.
‘Any news?’ Alec almost shouted as Murray came through the gate.
‘Ah! Mr Thompson. About your wife? No, sorry. Absolutely nothing new to report.’
‘So what are you doing?’
‘We’ve advised Border Village, Norseman and Port Augusta and have sent copies of your photo. Couldn’t get a copy to the Village but gave a good description. This afternoon I’m going out with several officers to the two sites we visited yesterday in case we can find anything else.’
‘Can I come with you?’ The desperation in his voice was obvious.
‘Sorry. Best you stay in town and in contact with the station in case we get news. We’ll let you know if anything turns up. You’re still at the caravan park, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, same place. I’ll stay there for as long as it takes. Anyway, my Kombi won’t be fixed for a few days yet. The garage tells me they’ve got to get spares from Adelaide.’ Alec followed Murray into the station.
‘Good, we need to know where to get hold of you,’ Murray said over his shoulder.
‘What more do you think you’ll find on the track?’
‘We don’t know until we look. Any clues at all will be useful at this stage.’
Alec knew the search the previous day with Tommy had revealed a great deal of information but little by way of explanation. The fact that they were now returning with a team made him nervous. Dark thoughts flashed through his mind but he couldn’t say them aloud. The mere thoughts upset him so much that, in spite of trying to retain control, he started to cry. At first just small, salty droplets at the edges of his eyes but when the secretary who had been present at the interview came across and put her arm around him, he wept openly.
Murray looked carefully at this display of emotion to see if he could detect any sign of sham but from his long experience he knew he was looking at a man in genuine distress.
‘Right then. You just stay here as long as you like, Mr Thompson. Sally, could you get Mr Thompson some tea or coffee? I must be on my way. We’ll be in touch.’
‘But what are you doing? I mean you’ve already checked the track and you know there was another vehicle there.’
‘Mr Thompson, there are many reasons that people go missing but not usually under these circumstances. I’ve registered Mrs Thompson’s disappearance with the Adelaide Missing Persons Unit, just in case. I’ve sent messages to Border Village, Norseman and Port Augusta police, and circulated a description and a fax of your photo to them. Just in case. This might become a situation where the problem has to be passed up the line to Whyalla. There’s a Detective Sergeant Finney there who is very experienced. If we need we can bring him in. We’re doing all we can at the moment, so please just be patient.’
With that, Sergeant Murray left the front room and disappeared into the recesses of the police station to gather his team. He was not sure what they might find out on the track but he had to search in case there was some evidence they might have missed. Before he left the station he made a call to Port Augusta to see if they could send some tracker dogs and more trackers. It was possible that the missing woman had obtained a lift for part of the way or even tried to walk to Ceduna, like her husband. People did unexpected and foolish things in the outback. Only a few months ago a couple had broken down and, without water, tried to walk through the bush to seek help. Their bodies had been found several miles from their vehicle some weeks later.
* * *
Alec spent a full week in Ceduna, regularly checking hotels and campsites, calling, asking questions. He became well known to the staff. As he entered the hotel reception the answer, cloaked in genuine sympathy, would be given even before he asked his question. ‘Sorry love, no news.’
By the end of the week, when the Kombi was repaired and released by the police, he drove to the dog fence and searched for hours, hoping to find clues that perhaps had been missed. He sat in the sand near the pit at their final camp site and recalled the time spent with Katherine that last day. His soul burned with grief and guilt. He beat the sand with his fists and howled his misery into the emptiness of the desert.
His searching was in vain. He spent so many hours in the police station that the large notice outside, the bougainvillea on the wire fence and every blemish in the white pointing of the brickwork became as familiar to him as their little rented unit in Adelaide.
Murray passed the investigation up the line; now it was being conducted by Detective Sergeant Finney from Whyalla. After a thorough examination of the Kombi and its contents he decided that there was no reason to bring in the forensic squad. The smudged fingerprint near the side doors had been totally useless. He interviewed Alec several more times asking questions that seemed to have no real bearing. Was Katherine depressed? Had she made any substantial cash withdrawals recently? Who were her close friends? Did she suffer from postnatal depression?
Alec was asked intrusive and seemingly pointless questions about their marriage and relationship. So pointless that he became angry but nonetheless answered all to the best of his ability.
All for nothing. By early November he was advised to return to Adelaide.
A very dispirited Alec set off on his return journey across northern Eyre Peninsula, stopping briefly only in Port Augusta to refuel before turning south to Adelaide. He did not go straight to their unit but first to Mitcham, the home of Katherine’s moth
er, and a meeting he dreaded.
He arrived to find his parents there as well as his younger sister, Amy. He had hardly knocked on the door when his mother-in-law flung it open and her tear-streaked face greeted him. ‘Oh, you poor boy, you poor boy.’
Alec hadn’t expected sympathy. Given his profound feelings of guilt he would have coped better anger or severe admonishment.
He burst into tears only to find himself being simultaneously hugged by his parents, his mother-in-law and his sister.
Katherine’s hopes of trying to escape at Yalata were dashed when Benjamin slowed down about two miles from the roadhouse and took a quiet side road into the bush. Once well away from the main highway he stopped. He unhitched the trailer.
‘Git out,’ he ordered. ‘Sit down ‘ere.’ He pointed to the base of a tree where she could sit in the shade. He tied a rope firmly to her left ankle then around the base of the tree and back to her right. Apart the bottle of tepid water he left her with nothing. Without another word he took Carolyn from her grasp and, ignoring Katherine’s efforts to hold on to her child, he put her on the seat next to him and started the engine.
‘Wait! Come back! Please, don’t take Carolyn away. Where are you going? Come back. Please, don’t take my baby,’ Katherine screamed in desperation and fear.
Ignoring her cries and shouts, he called back through the window, ‘Won’t be long. Ya’d better be there when I come back, for ya own good. An’ bub’s.’
As the Land Rover moved away she could hear Carolyn crying. Her chest contracted and her throat, already sore from screaming and crying, went desert dry. She didn’t know what she could do. For a while she struggled with the knot but, after breaking a nail, stopped. Even if she got loose, where could she go? She was miles from the road and he had Carolyn. She sat in the shade of one of the stunted mallee bushes, drank the water and wept for herself, for her baby and for fear of what was happening to them both. She realised she was aching for the return of her abductor. Even though the safety of her child depended on him, the feeling made her feel sick.