Croc Country

by Kerry McGinnis

  ‘Only one way to find out.’ He got in the vehicle and turned the key. ‘Stick close,’ he called and drove off.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  The journey back seemed to take forever. The track, plain enough in daylight, was harder to follow by headlights, but at least there was little dust, due to its uncleared nature. Tilly bumped and crashed along, frequently changing gears as she tried to anticipate the gutters and half-glimpsed potholes, hearing the crates sliding and banging behind her, worrying equally for Luke and the wellbeing of her cargo. The land looked alien by night, the scrub like tattered skeletons, and the Lost City, when she reached it, looming under the starry sky like a cemetery of vast headstones.

  It was a relief to finally recognise the stretch of gravel leading to the saddle on the far side of the range that held the caves. Tilly breathed out thankfully and let her stiffly held shoulders relax as she braked behind Connor’s Toyota and switched off her lights. His were still shining, aimed at the cave mouth, and she slipped from her seat to jog to his side so that they entered the narrow entrance together.

  ‘Okay?’ he turned to ask her as he flicked on the torch. ‘Hard to tell – there’re so many tracks overlaid out there – but I think another vehicle’s come by. Let’s hope it was Sophie.’

  ‘Luke’s vehicle’s gone,’ Tilly said, and as his words penetrated, ‘God! You don’t think there could be more of them?’ She was aghast.

  He shrugged. ‘There might be. It seems a big operation – more than just a few birds involved.’

  ‘Matt did say something about refugees – a boat sinking somewhere. And he mentioned drugs,’ she agreed unhappily.

  ‘If there are and they were here, they’re gone,’ he said. ‘Maybe you should wait out here anyway, while I check—’

  ‘No.’ Steeling herself, she followed him in, her gaze skipping over the space where Luke had lain. It was empty. ‘He’s gone,’ she said blankly. ‘And Gerry. He was just there . . .’ She pointed.

  ‘It’s okay, I think.’ Connor turned his torch on a dark shape against the cave wall. ‘Sophie must’ve got here, because I can’t see the other lot bothering to wrap a body.’ He dropped to his knee and turned back the edge of the blue poly-tarp that shrouded the still form. ‘Yep. Is this your husband, Tilly?’

  ‘Yes.’ She looked away from the face with its blank, dead eyes, prey to a thousand mixed emotions. Those eyes had smiled at her, admired her, won her heart. Those dead hands had loved her and had held their child, and she knew every expression that face had worn. Or she had thought she did. Something snagged at her memory and she suddenly gasped, thoughts of Gerry vanishing in the cold certainty of a terrible mistake.

  ‘What? What is it, Tilly?’

  Torchlight momentarily dazzled her as she clapped her hands to her face. ‘I think,’ she began. ‘You know when I told you Matt was up to something? It was his face, just a fleeting expression, when you said something about Constable Wilmot – that Burns was in the toilet. It bothered me then, but I forgot. It was satisfaction I saw, because it was Wilmot who had got the news. Don’t you see, Connor? He’s one of them! The crooked cops. Burns won’t get the message. If Wilmot turns up at all it’ll be on a rescue mission for Matt. That’s what he was smirking about. Just for an instant and then – remember? He stopped fighting – he never said another word, because he knows his mates aren’t going to be arrested, and that if Wilmot turns up it’s to help him.’

  Connor shook his head. ‘Tilly, you’re imagining it. Wilmot was checked out pretty thoroughly and he came up clean. There’s absolutely no evidence to suggest he’s ever crossed the line.’

  ‘Maybe.’ She was thinking furiously, casting her mind back. ‘The day you were fuelling up and you turned those two people back, a man and a woman, remember? First you told me they were tourists with a dog, then later you admitted they were cops and you didn’t want them treading on your op. So you sent them away. Was one of them Wilmot?’

  ‘Well, yes. Wilmot and a young female cop. A new arrival at the station. He said he was mentoring her, showing her around. I told him he should’ve had more sense, knowing what he did. Why?’

  ‘And did they have a lot of camping gear in the vehicle?’

  He frowned. ‘Why would they? They’d have got a meal at Alloway, and a bed if they’d wanted it.’

  ‘Because Matt met them on the road and told me some cock-and-bull yarn about helping them change a flat tyre. Said they were southerners, loaded down with brand-new camping equipment and had no idea how to handle a puncture. It was after that he started sniping at you, hinting you weren’t a botanist. He knew, Connor, because that’s when Wilmot told him. He must’ve – it was the only time they saw each other. When he was here with Burns before that, Matt wasn’t home.’

  In the faint glow of the headlights, she saw Connor’s eyes flicker as her words sank in. ‘And another thing’—she nodded, remembering back—‘when Burns came first and was bullying me about knowing Gerry wasn’t dead, Wilmot tried to get him to back off, like he might’ve been afraid that I’d admit to it.’

  ‘There’s an easy way to check,’ Connor said. ‘I’ll ring Alloway. See if Wilmot left without the sergeant. If he did . . .’

  The phone seemed to ring forever until it was snatched up and an irate voice said loud enough for Tilly to hear as well, ‘Bloody hell, I’m coming! Alloway. Waddyouwant?’

  She listened to the quickfire exchange and deduced the answer from Connor’s grim look. ‘Well, find him. And report it to the police,’ he barked, and killed the connection.

  ‘Seems you’re right.’ He sighed deeply. ‘Shit! That was the owner. According to him, Wilmot left on his own. Told him he couldn’t locate his mate, that he’d had an emergency call and couldn’t wait. Then took off like his backside was on fire, to quote mine host.’

  Tilly bit her lip. ‘Do you think he’s okay – the sergeant?’

  ‘Who knows? He could be tied up, or lying somewhere with a bullet in him. These guys play for keeps. Okay, so the cavalry’s down to Des, and I’ve no way of warning him about Wilmot.’

  ‘And Sophie – is she safe?’

  ‘I think she’d better take Luke and go to the camp. She needs to be among other people right now.’

  ‘And Matt? Why don’t we leave him here? Nobody’s going to find him and he certainly can’t shift under his own steam, even if he wasn’t tied up.’

  Connor considered it, then nodded. ‘Only you’ll have to bring the Land Rover along. If his mates trek all the way in here, we don’t want to signpost the place with their own vehicle.’

  ‘You don’t think they would?’ Tilly looked nervously in the direction of the caves.

  ‘Unlikely. I’ll just ring the homestead, organise Sophie, then I’ll get Mercer out. Say nothing about Wilmot in front of him. Let him think he’s still got a winning hand.’

  ‘Do we?’ Tilly asked, deeply worried. ‘We’ve already got one dead man, possibly two if the sergeant . . . Wilmot can’t afford to just walk away, can he? It’s his job, his liberty, and he’ll know that you found the money, so he’ll have lost his share as well.’

  ‘Some of it,’ Connor corrected. ‘There’re more than two or three involved. They’d expect a better return than sixty thousand shared among ’em.’ He was dialling as he spoke and now his voice quickened, ‘Ah, Sophie. Connor here. Please listen carefully . . .’

  Judging by the gabble that burst from the handpiece, Sophie didn’t intend to listen. Twice Connor attempted to stem the rush of words but without effect. Finally Tilly took the handpiece from him and barked, ‘Sophie! Shut up!’

  There was half a second’s silence before Sophie said, ‘Tilly? What the hell’s going on? Where are you?’

  ‘At the caves – as Connor was trying to tell you. Is Luke okay?’

  That started her cousin off again. ‘No, he’s not! He’s not properly conscious and his pupils are all wrong. He’s concussed, nothing he says makes sense. The doc
tor’s on his way. For God’s sake, what happened? Jesus, Tilly! Gerry’s in the cave and this time he really is dead! He’s been shot and—’

  ‘I know. By Matt. I was there when he did it. When’s the doctor due? Because you have to get out of the house, Sophie. All of you – I take it the professor came?’

  ‘He did, he’s here. He helped me . . . Why do we have to leave? The plane should be here in oh, half an hour, say.’

  ‘Because you could all be in danger,’ Tilly said flatly. ‘There’s a crooked copper on his way there – the constable who was with the sergeant when he came to grill me about Gerry. He’ll be looking for Matt, and chances are he’s already harmed his sergeant, so he hasn’t much to lose. You should either get to the camp or go to the airstrip now. You’ll need time anyway to set up the lights. When the plane leaves, head for the camp. We should be there by then. But whatever you do, don’t go back to the homestead.’

  Sounding somewhat subdued, Sophie agreed that she wouldn’t. Tilly pressed the off button and handed the phone back. ‘That’s sorted.’

  ‘Thanks.’ His lips twitched. ‘She’s a bit like a tank in motion, your cousin. I didn’t know that shouting worked.’

  ‘It’s about the only thing.’ Tilly gave a faint smile. ‘Have you a first-aid kit in your vehicle? Murderer or not, Matt needs painkillers.’ He nodded. ‘I’ll see what you’ve got while you get him into the cave.’ Taking the torch, she rummaged under the seats until she had what she sought. There seemed to be nothing stronger than paracetamol, so she tore off a strip and filled the thermos cap with water, then took them in to their captive, now sitting propped against the wall opposite his victim. Glaring at her, Matt nevertheless opened his mouth and she tipped them in, following them with a slug of water. He’d protested furiously about being left, loudly asserting that he needed a doctor and that he wasn’t sharing space with no stiff.

  ‘Tough,’ Connor said flintily. ‘You made him one. I’d call it no more than your deserts. And I daresay the police will see to your medical needs when they get here.’

  ‘Bastard,’ he roared. ‘I’ll sue you for this. I got rights like anybody else.’ They began moving off and he yelled after them, ‘You can’t do this!’ as they left him there.

  Tilly was having second thoughts. ‘Do you think we should leave him? He really does need medical attention for that knee.’

  Connor caught her hand in his. ‘And if it hadn’t been for that poor sod under the tarp, I’d have been attending your funeral. Let’s not forget that. His bloody leg can fall off for all I care.’

  ‘You’re very fierce,’ she said, but her heart was warmed by his vehemence and she smiled in the dark. ‘What about Gerry, Connor? It seems awful just to leave him. Shouldn’t we take his body back with us?’

  ‘No. The cave’s a crime scene. The cops won’t thank us for disturbing it any more than Sophie already has.’ He hesitated, thinking about it. ‘She must have reported it when she contacted the doctor, so I’m guessing there’ll be a copper on the plane too. Let’s hope he’s not one of the crooks.’

  Tilly strangled a yawn. ‘At least this whole thing’s gone past the cover-up stage now. I mean, there’s you and me, Sophie, Luke, and now the professor as well – they can’t kill us all. Particularly if the sergeant is really dead. That’s far too many corpses—’ She yawned again. ‘Oh, dear.’

  ‘There’s that,’ he agreed. They had reached the vehicles and his torch lit the way to the Land Rover’s door. ‘What a day you’ve had. You go ahead, love, and I’ll see you at the camp.’

  Chapter Thirty-six

  For Tilly, the trip back to the camp was a nightmare. The headlights threw strange shadows over the bushes and anthills by the track, and she was too tired and agitated to drive well. The Land Rover crashed its way through the potholes while her mind vividly replayed scenes from the last few hours. Gerry’s cry of ‘No!’ as he threw himself at Matt; the terror of knowing her death was imminent; and then the heart-stopping struggle under the vehicle while he did his best to choke the life from her.

  She was safe now, she told herself in an attempt to stop the horrors her mind conjured, but oh, God! It could so easily have gone the other way. She had no illusions about that. Matt was ruthless, and the proof of that lay back in the cave, wrapped in poly-tarp. Gerry had been weak and venal, and, if Matt was to be believed, had done dreadful things, but he must really have loved her. His actions had proved that. Perhaps he had even tried to get out of the criminal life he’d become involved in. For a man supposed to be dead that brief note had been a foolish thing – or had it been a subconscious cry for help? Her love for him might have died, but she could feel regret for his death, and even, she thought, find it in herself to forgive what he had done.

  The camp was fast asleep when she arrived. She pulled up by Connor’s site, turned the engine off and sat shivering in the cooling cab until he coasted to a stop beside her.

  ‘Okay?’ He came to her door, which she opened to bring on the cab light, then tsked when he saw her. ‘You’re freezing! Come on, I’ll find you something.’ It turned out to be a navy jumper that hung on her slim form but was wonderfully warm. ‘I’ll boil up,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, tea would be great,’ Tilly said tiredly. ‘I don’t see Sophie, Connor.’ She was worried. ‘You don’t think she could have been silly enough to go back?’ Her words were interrupted by the distant roar of an aircraft leaving the ground and she relaxed. ‘Ah, that must be the doctor leaving – that’s why. Seems a shame he’ll have to be called back for Matt.’

  ‘The cops wouldn’t let him go without an escort,’ Connor pointed out.

  ‘And Gerry?’

  ‘I don’t know, love. They’d probably take a body by road. You know, you haven’t yet told me exactly what happened. Why you and Luke were even at the cave.’

  ‘It was the bats . . .’ The story filled in the time while they waited, and telling it gave her a chance to order the events in her mind. She would have to go over it again, probably several times, for the police. Murder was involved, after all – quite a few murders, if a refugee boat had really sunk, and Tilly could see no reason why Matt would have lied about that. Not when he had had every intention of killing her. She had only just finished her tale when headlights appeared at the camp gate, and a few moments later, Sophie’s vehicle rolled to a halt beside theirs.

  She wasn’t alone. The tall, thin middle-aged man with spectacles and a little grey goatee with her was introduced as Thomas Leary, and the younger, uniformed one as Constable Lapin. He at least didn’t waste any time, cutting across Sophie’s rush of questions with a curt demand of his own. ‘So where’s this body Ms Barker reported?’

  ‘Not here,’ Connor said unhelpfully. ‘Which branch of the Darwin lot are you from, Constable? I thought I knew most of the officers, by sight anyway.’

  ‘We haven’t met,’ he said curtly. ‘I’m from Katherine. So where—’

  ‘Why Katherine? I thought—’

  ‘Oh, the doctor was already there when I put the call through,’ Sophie said. ‘He was picking up a patient, and they told me he’d come by us on his way back to Darwin, rather than make a second trip, you see.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Lapin confirmed, ‘and they needed a cop, they said, so I was it. And how the hell am I supposed to get back from here, and with a body too? Which,’ he added, ‘you seem remarkably reluctant to tell me about.’

  ‘That’s great news!’ To Lapin’s obvious amazement, Connor seized and shook his hand. ‘Okay, if you’d just step over here for a minute, I’ll put you in the picture. Sorry, folks,’ he said, but was largely ignored for Sophie was urgently demanding the same from her cousin.

  Tilly shook her head. ‘First, how is Luke? What did the doctor say?’

  ‘A bad case of concussion.’ Sophie was succinct. ‘His skull might be fractured. They’ll do a scan and take it from there. What happened, Till? I’ve been going out of my mind with worry about the pai
r of you.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Soph. Come into the tent and I’ll tell you. And you, Thomas, seeing as you’ve been dragged into this too.’ She and Sophie sat on Connor’s stretcher in the glow of the pressure lamp that, already lit, filled the space with a warm glow, while the professor folded himself neatly onto his haunches against the canvas wall. ‘Sophie’s probably already told you,’ she began, ‘that Luke and I were intending to catch a bat for you, so you’d have a live specimen to study. He is quite certain, you see, that they’re different to all the ones he knows. Only when we arrived, we saw light in the cave and Luke rushed in thinking it was someone mucking up, before I could tell him. He didn’t know, and I feel bad about that, too. He—’

  ‘Sorry, what didn’t he know?’ Leary interjected.

  ‘That the cave was being used by wildlife traffickers. We discovered it a little while ago and I told Sophie but not the others . . . Anyway, it was full of cages – birds and maybe reptiles – and oh, Sophie, they’re still caged in the back of the Land Rover, but Connor says they’re evidence and we can’t let them go yet.’

  ‘Yes, well, never mind that now. Luke rushed in and—’

  ‘I was going after him and I heard this yell. When I went in, he was slumped down beside the cages bleeding and holding his head, and then he sort of keeled over and just lay there.’ She told them the rest, her voice trembling when it came to Gerry’s death and how Matt had almost killed her.

  Sophie put her arm around her in response. ‘That bastard!’ she muttered. ‘Years he’s worked here and he could still do that to Luke? He might’ve killed him. So Gerry was mixed up in it, just as you thought?’