He said it with such quiet certainty that Buck did not argue back anymore; he had just signed the document and handed it back to Mark who had nodded his thanks.
Then Mark had laughed the whole thing off as superstition, saying that it must mean he was getting old if he was starting to see shadows dancing on his grave. But, notwithstanding, he was quite sure it was what he wanted. He also asked Buck to be an executor should the need to act on the will arise.
Buck knew nothing about Marks affairs, but hell, Mark had been his mate, they had worked together on a lot of jobs over the last seven or eight years. What were mates for if not to see you right if something bad happened? So he had said yes to being an executor as well. Now he wondered where the will was?
So, since that day when Vic told him that Mark was dead, he had been thinking about what his course of action should be; should he talk to the police, should he visit Susan? He had intended to discuss it with Vic when the chance came. He had noted that night when he signed the will that Vic’s name and signature sat alongside his own.
And now Vic was missing, that’s what the inquiry from the publican at Timber Creek was about. Vic had been due there by mid-afternoon. The publican said Vic had told him on the phone from Wyndham last night to expect him at Timber Creek today, and hold a room for him. But the day was over and Vic had not come.
The publican said he also had two tourists staying there that night. They were expecting a scenic flight with Vic early tomorrow. They wanted to confirm the arrangements and had expected to plan out the route with Vic tonight.
So it occurred to the publican that Vic might have diverted to VRD station today and would come over to Timber Creek first thing in the morning instead. On that basis he had rung to check.
Now they were both perplexed, Vic was super reliable, always called flight control to cancel his flights. Buck had immediately made a call to Darwin Flight Control. This confirmed that nothing had been heard since this morning when Vic left Wyndham about 9 am. Flight Control had not initiated any action as it was not unusual for helicopter pilots to fail to cancel their flights and, with a massive storm over Darwin this afternoon, the radio reception had been terrible. Now that storm had moved south over Pine Creek and the Daly River so the radio reception was still just as bad from down that way.
The one other thing Flight Control in Darwin told him, in case he had not heard it on the radio, was there was a cyclone watch along the coast between Darwin and the border of Western Australia. The low system which had been sitting in the Arafura Sea, north of Arnhem Land, for the last couple days, had become a cyclone this afternoon. It was now heading in a south westerly direction at ten kilometres per hour. It was about 150 kilometres out to sea, and its current trajectory would bring it down over the western NT coast somewhere between the mouth of the Daly River and the Joseph Bonaparte Gulf.
That meant it was headed this way and the weather was likely to deteriorate badly tomorrow, particularly in the afternoon, if the cyclone held its course. Of course it could swing further to the south and clobber Darwin or break further to the west and hit the Kimberley coast. But, as things stood, the place where Vic was flying through today was in direct line for this super storm and it did not improve the odds of finding him tomorrow, should a search be required.
Off course Vic could have landed somewhere and not been able to get the machine to start again. But, if this was the case, why had he not called in. He could have used a local frequency to let someone down this way know to ring Darwin if he could not get through directly. But then, maybe he had a flat battery or a radio problem.
So tomorrow they needed to locate him early or it would be time for a full scale search for a missing helicopter. With bad weather forecast as the day progressed they needed to get cracking early.
This was something that Buck did not even like to think about. Two pilots he had known had gone down in his decade in the industry up here. They had been awful affairs for all concerned, one burned to a crisp so that what remained was past resembling a person. Buck had been one of the first on the scene and he still remembered that awful stink and the charred mess.
Anyway that was for tomorrow, nothing more he could do tonight bar call the other stations en route; Legune, Auverge and Bulloo River for starters, and see if anyone had sighted him. He would have some dinner first then make the calls before he went off to bed.
Chapter 4 - Christmas Alone
Susan sat in her cell. The outside light was fading. Christmas Day was almost over and it had a surreal empty feeling. No presents, no visitors, no singing or laughing; just her and the crocodile stone for company.
Prison was a strange place, the warders talked about how overcrowded it was, but she had a cell to herself and it seemed to be a bit separate from the other cells, so there was no one next door to talk to. She was in the remand section, awaiting trial, and at this stage it seemed that, despite there being lots of men on remand, that she was the only woman in the maximum security section facing a serious charge. So it was just her in a block of several cells with its own visitors’ room. She rarely saw or heard anyone, other than in the far distance.
It was often hot and steamy with no fans or other cooling here, even though the visitor’s room was lovely and cool with its air conditioned comfort. At night she would pull a sheet over her head to keep the buzzing mosquitos away from her face. Last night, late at night, there had been a huge storm with endless flashes of lightning and rain banging down and, for a while afterwards, the air was cool. But today there was an airless, hot steamy feel to the atmosphere, both inside and out of her cell.
Normally she did not mind the solitude, she really did not want to talk to others about what she had done and this was the question they invariably wanted to ask. But solitude on Christmas day felt wrong, where had all the laughter in her life gone?
Today she had tried to pass the time by reading a cheap and trashy romance novel that she had been able to take from the visitors’ room bookshelf. But now she was bored with it, it was not much of a story. Still she persevered trying to read, just to pass the time, sitting with her legs crossed, on her bunk, with the crocodile stone in her lap.
A few times she had put the stone aside and tried to pretend it was just superstition, not really influencing what was happening inside her head. But each time, within a few minutes, she could feel the fog return, the malevolent crocodile spirit was insinuating itself back into her mind. Then, as her hand returned to touch the stone, clarity would return.
She felt grateful for the visit yesterday of her family; Mum, Dad and Tim, along with Anne and David. They had brought brightness into her life for a couple hours. David had flown back to Sydney last night for a family Christmas. She knew he wanted Anne to go with him; she could feel the spark there and was glad – if something happened between them she would feel a bit less guilty for her own contribution to messing up his life.
She had not formally broken off the engagement but it was time. She would delay and spare the ructions this would cause for another week or two. But, as soon as the New Year was passed, she would act. She suspected that both David and his family would be relieved.
Susan sensed that Anne was better for David than she was. Both she and David were impulse driven, Anne was steadier and would balance that part of David in a way she could not. But that was all speculation, not based on anything more than a hunch. Still she was glad it might happen, she did not feel jealous, just a little envious of the freedom they both enjoyed. She wanted something good like this for them both; they were both friends she cared for. Of course it may be imagination on her part.
She was also glad that her mind had been clear enough to talk to her own parents properly yesterday; it had been so hard with the fog in her head. But, even though they did not have a deep and meaningful conversation, she could sense something approaching relief in them that their daughter’s mind had returned.
She was not really free of the crocodile spirit now b
ut at least she had a way to keep it back. Thanks to the clearness that the stone gave her mind, along with the way Vic confronted her about what she had really done, it had come to her yesterday that she needed to plead guilty. She must stop this farce of pretence, saying that she would neither confirm nor deny what she had done.
So, as soon as the New Year came, she would tell of her killing Mark, hitting him on the head then dragging his body to the water; that part matched the evidence they already had, so it would be believed. But that was all she would tell.
Anything more would lead down a path which destroyed Mark’s reputation. Once done her child would have to live with that, once done there was no going back. It was better that this story remained untold – nothing could undo the past harm done. Nothing was gained by opening up the cesspit of Mark’s bad actions.
She was determined that the good memories of him held by her and his friends, not be destroyed through a revelation leading to others spilling out a different Mark story across the airwaves.
That story would travel down through generations, guilt by association. Always people would ask whether the child of a psychopath would become like the father, turn into a monster. She had come to understand the two sides to Mark; she was prepared to live with this dual person, to love and honour the memory of the good part.
She wished he had been open to having a life with her after she knew; they could have had months or even years together, sharing their child. It was not much, but compared to the nothing she had now, it would have been enough. God she hated the lost chance.
She wondered if she had done the right thing in giving the memory card with his story to Vic. But a promise was a promise and she must honour the one given by Mark, even if it caused more harm. Vic must shoulder responsibility for what he did with that knowledge.
Overall she felt relieved that she had shared this burden. Now Vic could agonise over it like she had. She had found herself more alive in Vic’s presence than she had been for months, even if it was only to rise to the challenge of being slapped.
It was good that Vic cared about Mark and what happened to him, cared enough to rage at her in his loss. She touched her face where a tender spot remained from his hand and smiled at the memory. It was the most alive thing that had happened since she returned to Australia.
So now she wanted to get the trial over with. She knew she would end up spending years in prison if she pled guilty. So she would have to make arrangements for when her child was born. She would ask her parents to adopt the child. That way she could see him, at least now and then, when they visited. She did not know why but she was sure that the child would be a boy. But she was sure, and she had decided that Marco would be his middle name too, a continuity of life and memory from father to son.
This imagined future was not much of a life to look forward to; maybe prison for twenty years until her child was grown. But it was justice for the life she took away and it would bring closure to what had happened. She must find useful things to keep herself sane in prison and then make a new life when it was done.
She felt that, with the visits by the old man Charlie and Vic, some clarity had come back into her life. Now she was able to think and plan again. It was so much better than sitting trapped in a fog all day. She hoped they would both visit her again soon. Their visits had lifted her out of despair. She sensed she would need more help from them both and then more help still, to stay sane in this place.
The one thought that really terrified her now was that she would go back into that trapped place in her mind, where it was only her and that awful crocodile spirit for company. She thought she would eventually kill herself if she stayed there. There was a certain allure to escaping that way, Mark was in that place. But she would not dwell on that thought before her child was born.
In the meantime perhaps Charlie and Vic could help her put that bad place behind her, at least she hoped so. There was steel in Vic and he would know what to do. He could help her find a place beyond this place here, a place where her torment would cease. He would honour Mark’s memory but he would help her too, that she knew.
So she would ask the prison officials, as soon as the Christmas New Year period was over, ask them to put her in touch with the lawyers for the public prosecutor so she could make an early guilty plea.
Then all these people, who were hanging around in hope of a miracle, would get on with their own lives and she could get on with her life too, wherever it led. She felt a sliver of satisfaction now that she could see a way forward.
Now, with her mind clear and the crocodile stone in her lap, she would read more of this book to pass the rest of this day. She had had her fill and more of Christmas alone and wanted tomorrow to come.
Chapter 5 - Michael Riley
Two days after Christmas the warder announced to Susan she had a visitor. She was perplexed as to who it could be, David and Susan were in Sydney, as were her parents. She did not imagine that either Vic or Charlie would be back so soon and she could not think of anyone else that she knew. Still a visitor was welcome to break up her day and she almost skipped out of her cell with a light heart.
As she walked down the passage into the visitor’s room she could see bright sunshine outside, just a few fluffy clouds, none of the big lightning and rains of the last day. Her mood lifted with the sunlight, even if just glimpsed through the window from the air conditioned visitors building.
She saw a weather beaten old man sitting at the table, wearing a cowboy hat. She did not recognise him. As she walked towards the table he stood up and doffed his hat in a polite greeting.
Recognition came to her; the bar tender from Top Springs, the man who had made the strangely prophetic announcements about Mark and the crocodile spirit. He had given her that cryptic warning that now made a sort of sense. She did not know his name, she was unsure if Mark even introduced him, despite them talking to him for two hours. She felt uncertain how to respond to this man, again a friend of Mark’s.
She must have shown the uncertainty in her face, because he seemed to realise that a more formal introduction was called for. He stood up, “Michael Riley at your service Maam. Not sure if you remember the day that you and that larrikin, Mark, stopped to tell stories at my bar at Top Springs.” With that he gave her a big broad toothy grin.
Susan could not help herself, she smiled back in response, there was something a bit mad and infectious in the mood she caught from him.
Susan gestured, “Please sit down Mr Riley. Of course I remember you, who wouldn’t, you and all your prophetic crocodile tales. I told Mark you were a bit fey, he said it was the spirit of the Johnny Walker talking.”
The man shook his head in reply. “Well, you’d think he’d get that one thing right at least. Paddy’s is the drop I always drink.”
Then he continued, “Just before Christmas I got word that you had set that crocodile spirit free, and they had locked you up for it. So me, I thinks, I am here in Darwin for a Christmas visit, perhaps I should pay you a visit, to pay me regards, like.
“You see, me, I know what you done girl; I felt it on that day. A choice was coming, one to go with the crocodiles and one to stay. So it had to be him to go and you to stay, him having the crocodile spirit, like. It could not have been another way.
“He was not a bad man, all in, but he had done bad things. His time had come to pay. Since the deed was done, his spirit has bin talking to me, telling me things. He says tis better this way, he wants for you and the child you share to be happy, his life will go on through the child. You must have no fear for the child, not try to protect the child from the truth. You must tell his story for all who would hear.
Susan found herself protesting. “But you can’t know what it is you are asking. You can’t expect me just to tell the world what happened!”
Mathew looked at her with a sad and perplexed manner, as if he could not see where to go from here. Then he shrugged his shoulders with a sad expression before he spoke aga
in.
”That is his message for you that he said I must tell.”
With that he nodded, stood up and walked out the door.
Susan sat there alone, feeling mystified. What did it mean? Was she to tell her child when grown who the father was and what he had done? Was she to tell the lawyers, her family or the police about the Mark she knew and what she had discovered?
She was not ready to do that, no matter what the supposed messengers said. Everyone always promised to help her, encouraged her to tell the truth. But none of them had to live with what followed; the consequences of the truth; she did. The truth could never be told, that she knew. She would think on it no further.
With that she dismissed this strange event from her mind.
Chapter 6 – The Search
Buck was awake an hour before first light. He quickly ate breakfast and got onto Flight Control. There still had been no reports of Vic or his helicopter, and Buck’s phone calls last night had yielded nothing.
So a search had been organised at first light, based out of Kununurra and Katherine, as the weather in Darwin was currently too bad to fly out of there. The cyclone was hovering out to sea, about 150 kilometres north-west of Darwin, with its track still much the same though starting to bear more south. It had now intensified from a Category Three to a Category Four, with wind gusts at the centre rated at upwards of 200 kilometres per hour. Based on the current speed and trajectory they would have four to six hours of search time before the weather would force them to call it off.
Buck offered to send the fixed wing and two helicopters based at the station to start searching the area just north of Timber Creek while the Kununurra planes concentrated on the area between Western Australia and the mouth of the Victoria River and the Katherine planes concentrated on the rough and broken country on the east side of the Victoria River, and back north towards the Daly River, in case Vic had decided to divert to Katherine or Darwin for some reason.
Crocodile Spirit Dreaming - Possession - Books 1 - 3 Page 49