‘And I’m sure most of them are dinkum tourists. Suspicion’s the curse of police work,’ he admitted ruefully.
‘I’m sure.’ She wondered what it would be like to see everybody as a possible suspect – as he had her, she reminded herself. But not without reason once the authorities’ belief that Gerry still lived was vindicated. In the light of that, the suspicion became less a terrible injustice and more an inevitable conclusion. Tidying the detritus of the meal into her esky, she stood up. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Let’s go then. We mightn’t get far and we’re not going to catch them up, but just finding their route will be helpful.’
At first the tracks were easy enough to follow, running parallel to the low range of hills, but soon they crossed a saddle between ridges and joined one of the old mining tracks. Tilly had thought the property roads she was familiar with were rough enough, but this topped them. Whole sections were washed out, and every declivity became a deep gutter to be negotiated with extreme care. Connor pushed the gear into low range as they crawled along, swapping from one overgrown track to the next while she clung to the grab bar and tried to avoid hitting her head over the roughest bits.
After nearly an hour of bouncing and jolting, Connor stopped. ‘It’s not worth it, Tilly,’ he said. ‘At this rate we’ll do an axle. Besides, look where the track’s heading.’
Her whole attention had been upon their progress, but now, raising her eyes, Tilly saw that they were heading straight for a massive spread of tall weather-worn pinnacles in varied shapes, interspersed with a heavy growth of timber, above which the rock fingers rose like fantastical towers.
‘My guess,’ Connor said, ‘is that the track ends there. No way is anyone driving into that, so they’ve must’ve bush-bashed a way around it. That’d have to be the Lost City. It was marked on Sophie’s map, but no roads were shown near it.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It’s why I’ve never seen it. Luke said it was hiking only and you’d have to carry your camp, because you wouldn’t get there and back in one day – not if you wanted to see anything. Isn’t it amazing? Do you think, now we’re here, that we could have a quick look? On foot, I mean. I don’t want you to risk your vehicle.’
‘Why not?’ He got out, pulling a backpack from behind the seat and shrugging it on. ‘Water,’ he said and glanced at her jeans-clad legs. ‘Mind the spinifex. Roses have nothing to learn from its spikes.’
‘I’ll be right.’ Tilly pulled her hat down and they set off. It took twenty minutes to reach the outlying pillars, and for half an hour they wandered the cool sandy-floored canyons between the rocky towers, marvelling at the weird sculpting that time and weather had produced. Bird calls rang in the still air that was elusively scented by a scrubby, purple-flowered shrub.
‘Turkey bush.’ Connor had halted to pull a water bottle from his backpack. He offered it to Tilly and glanced at the sun. ‘We should be heading back soon. See that flatter shape over there? It doesn’t look too bad a climb. Think you could make it?’
‘Of course!’ Tilly eyed it. ‘Plenty of handholds. What are you hoping to see?’
‘Well, how far back these pillars run, for starters. Be interesting to know how wide a detour our poachers had to make.’ He received the bottle back, swallowed a few mouthfuls himself and stowed it away. ‘If you’re game for it, let’s go.’
It was a harder climb than it looked, steeper than it had appeared from ground level. Connor arrived first and reached a hand to pull Tilly up beside him. She clung to him for a moment for balance; the wind was stronger and the weathered rock more uneven than she had expected.
‘What a view!’ She released him and turned carefully, the rush of air cooling the sweat on her body as her gaze slid over the forest of rocky towers that stretched half a kilometre or more away to the south.
‘It must’ve been a cliff wall a few hundred thousand years ago,’ Connor mused, staring down at the crenellated rock, ‘then the sandstone started to break down and this is what’s left. Maybe in another thousand it’ll all be gone. Who knows?’
Tilly wasn’t really listening. She’d spotted the dust cloud rising behind the community of pillars, and her mouth fell open as she grabbed his arm. ‘Connor! There’s a vehicle.’
He reacted to the urgency of her tone, stared where she pointed and then snatched the binoculars from his backpack.
‘And a graded road!’ Tilly exclaimed. ‘Out here? How . . .? That dust cloud’s heading back, not away. Who . . .?’
Connor said wonderingly, ‘There’s a logo on the door. I can’t make it out at this distance but it looks very like – Good Christ! Was it really that simple all along? Not Luke – he’s cook today, you said. And Sophie’s heading for Darwin. It’s Matt. Right under our bloody noses! The one who drives the grader. And he’s graded the bastards an exit road. I’m betting that’s how your husband left the camp without you seeing him, Tilly. And I’m afraid it’s where your wildlife will have gone, too.’
Chapter Twenty
They discussed their find in quick, broken sentences while making a hasty descent to the ground and back to the vehicle. They needed to beat Matt to the camp.
‘Because the last thing we want,’ Connor said urgently, ‘is for him to get wind that we’ve rumbled him. That you have. It’s too dangerous, Tilly. He mustn’t ever know that you’ve even seen the pillars. Crooks are born suspicious, and I want you safe. I wish you weren’t going back at all, but I suppose that might alert him too.’
‘It should be okay,’ she soothed him. ‘He said he was bringing the grader home today. That’ll take hours – if he really did leave it at Kileys’ Yard, of course. If you just run me back to the homestead, I can tell him I got a ride back with a tourist, and I’ll check the book first to make sure someone did leave this morning. What?’
Connor was shaking his head. ‘And if Luke should mention me bringing you back? Just in passing? It could happen. Tell him you hung around the camp until I offered to drive you. It’s lies that catch you out, Tilly.’
She shot him a look that he missed as the front wheel crashed into a hole. ‘I expect you’d know. Is the job always like this?’
‘No. We – Customs, that is – are only involved because of the boat aspect. Mostly it’s straightforward inspections of ship manifests, or stop and search operations. This is a one-off.’
‘And when it’s over? If you catch Matt and his mates, what then?’
‘Oh, back to the paperwork and the high seas.’ The vehicle nosed over the ridge and thumped down onto the track before the caves. ‘Thank God for that! Now we can make a bit of time. Yes, more manifests, but not before a break. I’m due some leave, and I should like to spend it with you, Tilly. Not crashing around chasing crooks, but enjoying ourselves. I’m thinking a nice restaurant in Darwin, maybe the Night Markets, a stroll along the Esplanade. I know a pub with a karaoke bar . . . So, what are my chances?’ He snatched a quick glance at her, one eyebrow raised enquiringly, before turning back to the road.
Flattered, and a little flustered by his directness, she said, ‘That last one’s not quite my scene. Are you a Caruso in disguise? It sounds lovely, Connor, but I’m not a free agent. I mean, I have a job and it’s the middle of the season. I—’
‘Well, in theory then – is it something you’d like? Spending time with me? You could find out about my singing ability, and other things too.’
Tilly felt the heat in her skin and found that her heart was doing strange flip-flops. Their eyes met in the driving mirror and she flushed. ‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘I’d like that. Very much.’
‘Whoo!’ He blew out a long breath. ‘Great! I haven’t been so nervous since my first date. Thank you. Now, hang on tight while I get you home.’
Matt arrived with the grader a little after four o’clock.
‘How’d you go?’ Luke asked, looking up from his magazine as he entered the kitchen. Tilly, sipping coffee in the bird-watching seat, raised the glasses to her e
yes, glad that Luke had spoken.
‘Waste o’ bloody time. Knew it would be,’ Matt grunted, feeling the side of the kettle. ‘I reckon the driver was just wantin’ a shortcut through to the border. He’s long gone. I followed ’im to the river, then quit. Once he’s that far, there ain’t more than ten kay before he’s off the place. It was damn near midday before I got the machine serviced and movin’ as it was.’
‘That’s that mystery solved then. If Sophie rings tonight, I’ll let her know.’ Luke returned to his magazine.
‘I forgot to say’—Tilly hoped her words sounded natural, although to her they felt as stilted as if she were on a stage—‘that we left without the wood for the camp donkey this morning, Matt. But it’s okay. I asked Connor to cart some, so the hot water hasn’t been an issue.’
Matt grunted again. ‘He’s some use then. Anything to eat? It’s a bloody long way back to lunch.’
And further to the truth, Tilly silently thought. ‘They would need somebody on the ground,’ Connor had said, and it seemed horribly certain that his guess was correct and that somebody was Matt. Thinking back, she realised that he had been absent from the homestead every day save for his turns as cook since Luke had discovered the disturbed nests. Grading, he’d claimed, but how much time had he actually spent on the machine, and – apart from Binboona’s regular tracks – where else had that grading been done? She wished there had been more time to explore the topic with Connor. The shock of their discovery was so great that, her mind now prey to uncertainties, she hesitated to tell even Luke. Though nobody could suspect him – or could they? In that moment, she truly understood Connor’s remark about the curse of suspicion. Of course the young ranger would never be embroiled in anything that threatened his birds! But an hour ago, she would have been prepared to swear the same of Matt.
Groaning to herself, Tilly shelved the dilemma by deciding to say nothing until Sophie returned. Let her make the decision about whom to tell. At least Connor, she thought wryly, would approve her silence.
Sophie returned on Thursday, as expected, but not alone. Tilly, whose turn it was in the kitchen, was setting the table for the evening meal when the vehicle arrived, and a quick glance through the window showed both passenger and driver doors opening when the engine died.
‘Looks like you lost your wager,’ she observed as Luke came into the room.
‘What wager’s that?’
‘Something about the WPA not listening to Sophie’s plan? She’s brought someone back. Look at him, he’s wearing a tie. I’ll bet he’s the company’s money man come to see the project firsthand.’
‘Bugger,’ Luke said mildly. ‘I’ve gotta say, I never thought they’d go for it! Anyway, it’s not a project yet, just the faintest possibility.’
‘You still lose. Just as well Connor’s room is made up.’
‘Connor’s?’ He lifted one brow at her, an annoying mannerism that she had never been able to imitate. ‘He doesn’t own it, does he?’
Flustered, she said, ‘You know what I mean. Anyway, your dinner’s wrapped on the hob. Hadn’t you better get going? Those kids I mentioned were really looking forward to your talk tonight.’
‘Yeah, right. I suppose I’ll hear all about the WPA in the morning.’
Graeme McGuire described himself modestly as the Wildlife Protection Association’s bookkeeper. He looked to be in his mid-forties, his hair greying and his body thickening through the waist, though still trim overall. He had the tanned appearance of an outdoors man and was deeply wrinkled about the eyes. He had come, as she had surmised, to look over Sandstone Springs and study the problems and expense that their development would entail.
Sophie looked tired from the long drive, but she was keyed up too, taking the first opportunity to stop for a private word with her cousin. ‘Thank the Lord you’re on today – I don’t want him starting off with indigestion. Look, could you bear to stay in the kitchen while he’s here? Please, Tilly? The house is always nicer when you’re running it – the boys never get round to sweeping or tidying stuff up. I need him relaxed and positive, not cracking his neck to get away.’
‘Yes, of course, if you think it’ll help. What was his initial reaction to your idea?’
‘Well, he’s here,’ Sophie said. ‘I think that alone is hopeful. It’s a huge amount of money, but building anything here in the north costs double anywhere else. He did say the company’s books were in good shape though, so maybe there’s spare money,’ she added hopefully.
‘But he’s not just an ordinary bookkeeper, is he?’
‘No. He’s the financial director of the whole shebang. Which is another reason why I think he might really go for it. He wouldn’t have come if the company meant to turn the idea down flat. I’ll take him out there tomorrow morning to get him the overview, and then I thought Matt’d be best qualified to give him a tour of the rest in the afternoon. I mean, roads and machinery are his thing. Graeme’ll need a breakdown of equipment costs and structural work. It’ll be guesses at best, but Matt’s would be closer than either Luke’s or mine, and Graeme has to have a figure to start from, even if it’s way out.’
‘Mmm.’ Tilly hesitated. ‘Look, I can’t tell you why now, but maybe don’t say anything to him about Matt until we’ve had a chance to talk? You might want to change your mind.’
Sophie’s brows knitted in puzzlement. ‘Why would I?’
‘Just don’t.’ Tilly could hear steps in the hallway. ‘Trust me. I’ll tell you later. It’s important, Soph.’ Then their visitor entered the room, rubbing his hands together.
‘Something smells good! I could eat a horse – or a good part of one, anyway. The boys tell me you’re a great cook, Tilly.’
She smiled, hoping Sophie would heed her words. ‘I try. And you’ll be happy to know we can do better than horse.’
Her cousin, Tilly thought, had taken her warning seriously, for over dinner Sophie talked about Binboona and her ideas for it if the Sandstone proposal went ahead, asserting that Graeme would see why she was so keen on it when she took him out in the morning. She said nothing, however, about any plans for the afternoon.
He may have been the financial director of the company, but it was obvious that McGuire had spent time in the ranks as well. He had been with the Tasmanian Wilderness Society in the early eighties, working with those protesting the Gordon-below-Franklin Dam. He was knowledgeable about birds and had lived in his share of wild places, curdling Tilly’s blood with an account of once waking up to find that he was sharing his swag with a brown snake. She had closed her eyes in horror, muttering, ‘God! I’d have died of fright regardless of whether it bit me. It didn’t, did it – bite you?’
‘Thankfully no. It was a long way back to town.’
‘Shoulda had a greenhide rope with you,’ Matt said. ‘Old stationhand trick. Lay it down and make a loop around your bed with it, and the snake follows it round but won’t cross it.’
‘Really?’ Tilly was doubtful. ‘Does it work?’
He shrugged, his gaze sliding away to the pepperpot. ‘There’s blokes who believe it.’
‘And if it’s never been tested, they assume it’s true.’ Luke nodded sagely.
When the meal was over, Sophie and Graeme removed themselves to the lounge, while Matt took a torch and went out with a muttered word about the generator and Luke stayed to wipe up for Tilly.
She lifted her brows at him. ‘What’s brought this on?’
‘I’m being tactful, letting the bosses get on with it without the help hanging over their shoulders. Besides, I’m damned if I’m going to bed just to stay out of their hair.’
‘Very diplomatic. How’s Jane these days?’
His face softened into dreaminess. ‘She’s good, thanks. As a matter of fact, she’s coming north again as soon as her mid-year exams are finished. She and some uni mates are heading for Darwin. She’s planning to fly out on the mail plane. I thought – well, I hoped – you might put in a word with Sophie, see
if she can stay in the homestead? It’d only be for a week,’ he added cajolingly.
‘Aha, now I see why you’re wiping up.’
He started to protest, then caught sight of her grin. ‘You’ll ask her then? Think she’ll agree?’
‘I don’t see why not. And if another guest should turn up, Jane can share with me. Or’—she raised her brows— ‘with you?’
‘We haven’t got that far yet,’ he admitted. ‘Anyway, I don’t think Sophie’d like it.’
‘Probably not.’
‘Thanks, Tilly.’ He blew out a breath in exaggerated relief. ‘You’re the best. I’ve been wondering too, if we ought to send the cockies back with Graeme. They’re old enough to go to a proper bird sanctuary. If we keep them here, they’ll wind up domesticated and unable to live in the wild.’
‘I guess it’s worth asking,’ she said. ‘Would it matter though if they did – become pets, I mean?’
His boyish features gathered into a frown. ‘I don’t like to see it. Especially in birds who live a long time like the parrot family. It cripples them in a way. They’re meant to live their own life, free and natural. Not dependent on man.’
‘When you put it like that . . . Look, that’s it, there’s only the pan now. It’ll take a while and I can wipe it, so your duty’s done. Thanks. Oh, and Sophie’s asked me to stay on kitchen duties until Graeme’s gone, so you’ll be doing the camp work yourself tomorrow.’
‘I see. Well, much as I dislike cleaning dunnies, I’ll do it for the sake of your meals.’
‘And because you don’t have a choice,’ she agreed affably. ‘Go write to Jane. I might drop Mum a line too – it’s time she had a letter.’
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