Jamie disappeared into the night. A few minutes later he was back, shivering from the night air, his eyes bewildered. ‘It’s not there. The door of the hut was wide open, banging in the wind, and my gun’s not there.’
My mother digested this information. ‘So he’s used your gun to do this.’
‘Or she,’ whispered Jamie, his eyes wide and staring.
My mother’s expression tightened but she said nothing. All of us were silent, thinking of Belinda Pepper and her wild impetuous ways. I considered this new possibility. It did seem more likely that Belinda could be responsible than some vengeful gun-wielding alien. Finally, my mother sent Jamie out to the workshop to get my father’s gun. ‘Put it under our bed. And make sure it’s loaded,’ she called after him.
Lou and Babe heaved their mattresses into my parents’ room and stayed in there that night. Jamie opted to spend the rest of the night in my bedroom. As soon as we were alone together, I started to apologise for my hysteria earlier, but he hushed me, not giving me the chance to say it properly. ‘I just wanta sleep Billy.’
His smile was the wannest I’d ever seen it.
He didn’t sleep. His breathing never resumed that easy rhythm. He just lay there. I couldn’t sleep either. My paranoia returned as soon as the lights were switched off. The longer I lay there awake, the more convinced I became that this menacing act had been directed at me. Finally, after what seemed like hours of lying awake, I recognised the feeling of unease that nagged me. It was the same way I’d felt after the scuffle in the rugby changing rooms. This was another act of senseless violence. Or was it? The more I thought about it, the more likely it seemed that there was a deliberate plan behind it. My parents were away at the fire. Jamie should have been in Glenora for the night as he usually was. I lay there, drowsy, my mind running through a line-up of possibilities.
I was almost asleep when I heard something that startled me awake. Instantly awake. Jamie had crept out of his bed. I began to tremble. He was coming to me. I had to concentrate with all my might to lie still. In all the scenarios my mind had conjured up, I’d never dared hope that he might come to me. I felt like throwing the blankets back in welcome, jumping up and down on the bed for joy. But I had to restrain myself. Such a response was far too forward. I lay there modestly, shyly, waiting … for the touch that never came. Jamie crept out the door instead of into my bed.
A few moments later, I heard the rattle of the plastic fly screen on the back door as he walked through it. Jamie had gone outside. I got out of bed and went to the window. I couldn’t see him. Cautiously, I tiptoed out of my bedroom, out to the back door and stared out into the night. He didn’t seem to have gone to the hut. There was no light on there. Abruptly, the dogs all barked in unison giving me a terrible shock. I went back to bed. I knew where he’d gone. ‘Rabbit shooting.’ I fell asleep almost at once. I was vaguely aware of him slipping back into his bed, some time later, in the depths of the night.
I jumped when Lou shook me awake the next morning. Maybe I even gave a little scream because I woke Jamie up. He gave an exasperated grunt from the other bed. Lou was fully dressed. ‘Get up,’ she hissed. ‘We’re going to investigate the scene of the crime for clues.’
She tiptoed from the room, silently signalling me to get out of bed at once. I glanced across at Jamie but he had rolled over to face the wall, pulling the blankets over his head. Obediently, I got out of bed and dressed as quietly as I could. Lou was waiting impatiently by the front door for me. Babe stood beside her, beaming with pleasure at being included in such an important mission. ‘Right,’ said Lou. ‘I’m Julian. Who do you want to be?’
Both Lou and I adored ‘The Famous Five’ books. We’d been pining for years to have adventures of our own. ‘I’ll be Anne,’ I said at once.
‘Okay. Babe, you can be Timmy the dog,’ said Lou rather unkindly.
We both expected her to run away and complain to my mother but instead she looked up at us angrily. ‘But we’ve got seven dogs, any of them could be Timmy.’
There was no answer to that. Babe got to be Dick seeing as she’d made such a smart reply. Lou marched out the door, urging us to follow. We trailed after her, opting to stand at a respectful distance from Dante’s stiff and sunken carcass. Lou insisted on inspecting him close-up.
It was strange seeing Dante lying there. My father had always said he’d have to die on the place because he was too big to fit up the ramp to the truck. All the other bulls got sent off to the freezing works to be slaughtered once they’d passed their prime. Dante stayed even though he was the oldest bull on the farm and quite lame. It was Grampy who noticed he’d lost some condition and suggested he might now fit up the ramp. So he and my father tried. Grampy was right. Dante had lost weight and would’ve fitted up the ramp if he’d been inclined to walk up it. But he was too smart for that. No matter how much he was pushed, poked and electronically prodded Dante wouldn’t budge.
‘He’s got hay in his mouth,’ Lou announced triumphantly. ‘Someone lured him out of his paddock with some hay. I bet we’ll find a trail of it from the front paddock to here.’
Babe was sent to confirm this hypothesis. Lou circled the dead bull, rather like a bird of prey about to take a mouthful. She was examining his rear quarters when she gave an abrupt grunt and began pulling at his tail. She approached me, a grim expression on her face. She held her hand out in front of her, clasped tightly, something concealed within her grasp. She stopped in front of me and made me hold out my hand. I knew she was going to drop something disgusting into it, a turd or a bit of shattered brain. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look but not brave enough to refuse her. But it was something light and delicate that fluttered into my upturned palm. I opened my eyes in surprise. It was a piece of worn red ribbon.
Lou was staring at me angrily. ‘Your father won’t think that’s funny. Especially if he’s hung over.’
I nodded dumbly, my mind racing, trying to make sense of this vital clue. Of course I recognised it. It was the ribbon off my own cow’s tail, not that I could remember losing it but obviously I must have. I strained to remember when I’d last taken it anywhere.
‘Get away from there.’
My mother stood on the balcony, hands on her hips, staring down at us angrily. ‘Come inside now. Leave it alone. The policeman’s on his way. Come inside and eat your breakfast.’
Lou and I walked obediently up towards the house. We were almost at the door when suddenly I remembered. I must have given a gasp because Lou stared at me intently. ‘What?’ she asked sharply.
I fumbled for an excuse. ‘Babe,’ I finally said. ‘We’ve forgotten Babe.’
I broke away from Lou, running down the path calling to Babe but my mind was reeling from the sudden realisation. The dead bull lay there before me, so white against the dull red of the blood-soaked gravel. I knew where I must’ve lost the ribbon. I knew who had killed Dante. I knew without a doubt. The ribbon had been tied as a sign for me, so that I alone would know.
Roy Schluter.
But what did he mean by the ribbon? Was it a warning? This time a bull, next time me? Or was Roy claiming the tail of the dead bull for himself? Was he trying to tell me he wanted a tail too? That he wanted to be like me. I stood there staring at Dante and began to cry. I tried to convince myself that it was impossible that Roy could have done such a thing, yet as I looked at the slaughtered bull and felt the slippery sheen of the ribbon between my two fingers, I knew with a gripping certainty that Roy had to have been responsible.
When Babe clasped my hand, I jumped. ‘I found a trail of hay,’ she said proudly. ‘Just like Lou said. And the gate had been left open. I shut it.’
‘Well done,’ I muttered, wiping my tears away.
Together we walked up to the house. I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat. I felt sick from what I now knew.
As soon as Constable Hubble arrived, Lou dashed outside to tell him about the trail of hay. Sitting at the breakfast table, we could
hear Hubble exclaiming outside, ‘Is that so, Louise? Really?’
Then my father reeled into the kitchen. My mother had obviously roused him out of bed. I could see his pyjama jacket beneath his bush shirt. He went out and brought Hubble inside and sat him down at the table with a cup of tea. ‘Now then,’ the policeman finally said, after a sip of tea.
Lou began to speak but my father silenced her with a forbidding stare. ‘Jamie, tell the constable what happened.’
Jamie explained. I sat there twisting the ribbon in the pocket of my shorts as Jamie spoke in terse sentences, prodded along by Constable Hubble’s questions. When the constable could provoke no more information out of Jamie, he sighed and turned to the rest of us. ‘Anyone got anything to add?’
I stared at the bowl of cereal I couldn’t bring myself to eat and said nothing. I couldn’t confess what I knew. To tell would inevitably mean telling a lot more than I would want to. Roy knew that. Knew I wouldn’t tell because it would mean explaining things that were too forbidden. I sat and prayed for the policeman to be gone.
My father walked Constable Hubble down to his car. They stood outside by Dante for several minutes talking quietly. Lou sidled over to the window trying to overhear, but my mother noticed and ordered her to start doing the dishes. When my father returned, he was in a real temper. My mother offered him some breakfast but he snapped at her. ‘It’s all because of you this has happened. You and those bloody weird things you do on the balcony. That’s why they’ve killed my best bull, to give you a fright and make you stop. Entwining yourself into those unnatural positions. It’s bizarre and people don’t like to see it happening in front of their own eyes.’
We were all astonished by his outburst. Finally, my mother broke the shocked silence. ‘They can’t see me unless they’re watching me through their binoculars.’
‘Well people are always looking through binoculars checking on their sheep and so on, and they don’t like being startled by coming upon you. It’s provocative. I can imagine someone wanting to shoot down such a spectacle.’
Jamie excused himself to use the phone. We all knew he was trying to phone Belinda. ‘I mentioned her to Hubble,’ my father said in a whisper to my mother. ‘Told him it’d be worth his while to talk to her.’
The phone was slapped down. My father raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Jamie slouched back into the kitchen. ‘Is it okay if I go into Glenora?’ he asked my father.
‘Actually, I’m going to need your help for a few hours this morning. We have to dispose of the bull.’
I presumed that Dante would be given a burial. I think we all assumed his carcass would be treated with great dignity. It wasn’t.
Maybe it was because my father was hungover. Or maybe he was ashamed by his behaviour of the night before and was trying to atone for his hysterics by proving he could be cold-hearted and thrifty. Whatever the reason, he asked my mother to sharpen his knives. My father intended to skin Dante and chop him up for dog tucker. What was even worse he expected us to help him do it.
Jamie obeyed sullenly. Lou went pale when my father told her to make a start on Dante’s massive back leg. Babe fled in tears to her bedroom and I would have liked to have done the same. Only the dogs were enthusiastic. They had been howling all morning at the smell of blood in the air. My father shouted at them periodically but it didn’t quieten them for long. ‘They’re going to enjoy their dinner tonight,’ he chuckled to Jamie, who merely grunted in reply.
Finally, Dante was skinned, his head severed and thrown down the offal hole. It was easier to think that it wasn’t Dante once the head was gone. It was just meat. We hung it by its back feet to the tractor’s front forks and then lifted it up in the air over the offal hole. But the carcass was so huge that even when the forks were as high as they’d go, the front legs still rested on the gravel. Lou sat in the tractor, operating the hydraulics. She had to constantly raise the forks as the weight of the carcass kept pulling them down. I looked away when my father slit the stomach open but even the sound of the guts spilling out in a great rush was bad enough. ‘Do you want Dante’s tail then Billy-Boy? It’s longer than the other one you’ve got.’
I couldn’t answer. The tail went down the offal hole with the guts. My father had me wash the carcass down with the garden hose. Then he and Jamie took it in turns, standing on a ladder and sawing through the backbone with a gigantic saw. I had to hold the carcass steady. Up in the cab of the tractor, Lou was grinning at me. ‘We need a chainsaw for this job,’ my father joked, but neither Jamie nor I laughed or even smiled.
Grampy arrived just before the carcass had been divided into two. He stood there watching. There was a grim smile on his face. My father gave an almighty grunt as the saw severed the last of the bone. The two halves swung back and forth wildly. Grampy limped forward. Maybe his damaged leg was giving a special twinge as he watched one of the ‘white beasts’ being cut up.
‘Hubble came and saw me this morning,’ he said tersely.
My father didn’t even glance at him. He was busy explaining to Jamie how each side should be divided, where the cuts should be made. ‘Yeah?’
‘Seems you named me as the prime suspect in the murder of this here white beast.’
My father turned to face Grampy. ‘I said no such thing.’
‘Well you must have said something because he came and asked me what my movements were last night.’
‘All I said was . . . he asked me if there was anyone I could think of who would do such a thing.’
‘And you named me.’
‘I was joking. Hubble knew that. Besides it’s true. You always hated my cows. You were the first person, the only person I could imagine who’d do such a thing.’
Grampy snorted and turned away, walking stiffly up to the house. He’d be going to give my mother an earful over a cup of tea. I was sent off to find as many old sacks as possible. Half an hour later, Dante was finally laid to rest. Chopped into manageable pieces, bagged up and stowed in the dog tucker freezer.
‘That was gruesome,’ said Lou, as we washed our hands afterwards before going inside for morning tea.
Jamie didn’t join us. He got in his car and drove off without having a shower even though he was covered in blood. He returned a few hours later, looking worried, but no one dared to ask him what had happened.
We found out the next day. Velda Pile rang with the news. Belinda Pepper hadn’t turned up for work at the boutique and Julie, having heard about ‘our incident’ (the entire Serpentine county had heard about it within twenty-four hours) sent the constable round to check on her. There was no answer to the repeated knockings. Eventually, with the help of several curious next-door neighbours, they forced the door. Belinda was gone. But in the ashtray next to her bed, Constable Hubble found the remnants of a marijuana cigarette.
The flight of Belinda inspired a flurry of unlikely stories. Velda insisted she was a key figure in an international drug ring. Marcia Pepper claimed she’d flown off to enter the Miss New Zealand contest. Tracey Ingham put it about that her throat condition had proven to be incurable, had spread into her brain and she’d gone mad, hence her antics with the shotgun. While the bowling club ladies were certain that this time she must be pregnant and had left town overcome by shame and remorse.
The constable came back to the farm to question Jamie, commandeering the kitchen for the interview. The rest of us sat in the lounge, with the television volume turned right down so that we could hear. We were all shocked to learn that it had been Belinda who’d dumped Jamie.
‘She’d bought a ticket to Sydney and she just told me she was going. Just like that. No warning. I said I’d come with her, just as soon as I got the money, but she said she couldn’t wait. Belinda always wanted to do things straight away. As soon as she’d decided on something, she had to go and do it.’
‘And did you know she smoked marijuana?’
‘What’s marijuana?’ I asked.
‘Sshhh,’ said my moth
er and father in unison, but it was too late. Jamie’s answer to that particular question was lost in their hushing of me.
‘It’s drugs,’ whispered my father sternly. ‘And you’re never to touch it, do you hear?’
‘What does it look like?’
‘It’s a plant.’
‘What sort of plant?’
‘I don’t know.’ My father was exasperated. ‘We don’t have it in the Serpentine thank goodness.’
But that wasn’t accurate at all because they’d found it at Belinda Pepper’s place, and I knew where she’d gotten it from. I slipped out of the room. No one noticed. Everyone was too preoccupied listening to Jamie describe the fight he’d had with Belinda and how he’d tried to rip her airline ticket in half.
I ran over to the woolshed, all the way without stopping. But the closer I got to the toilet, the more convinced I became that I was too late. Sure enough, when I opened the toilet door, there was nothing there. It was gone. Just when I’d discovered what it was. That was what Jamie had been doing in the middle of the night.
But had he moved it and hidden it somewhere else? Or had he destroyed it? I opened the door wide and got down on my hands and knees. That was what ‘The Famous Five’ would do. They would look for clues. I even peered down the long drop. It smelled as though it had been used recently and I retreated hastily. There were no clues. The plants had been removed and Jamie had swept the toilet clean.
I wandered back to the house. The policeman was about to leave. Jamie had to drive into Glenora with him to identify a shotgun that had been found carelessly hidden beneath some leaves behind the old gaol. The location of the gun confirmed without a doubt what I knew. Roy was responsible. Lou tugged at my arm, rousing me out of my thoughts. ‘It’s the perfect opportunity,’ she said. ‘We’re going to search Jamie’s hut for clues.’
50 Ways of Saying Fabulous Book 2 Anniversary Edition Page 7