‘Surely that can’t be the only reason. He really didn’t want us there.’
Looking out the window, Bob didn’t answer straight away. ‘You know what I reckon?’
The question was rhetorical, so Dave didn’t bother to say anything.
‘I reckon there was more truth in what he told us today than what I heard from Kit Redman.’
Dave just shook his head as if Bob was mad.
Bob had told Dave about a waterhole he’d heard of that was nearby, so they decided to camp there for the night rather than go back to Boogarin. It would make for a short trip over to Spinifex Downs in the morning.
After a lot of driving and a few wrong turns, they found the place and started to set up camp. By the time they’d finished, Dave needed some painkillers for his shoulder and he started the exercises the physio had given him. Bob sat in his usual chair, with his usual beer in hand, staring into the fire.
As the sun set, the birds came in to drink, sending up deafening screeches. Dave walked to the edge and watched the orange rocks reflecting in the pool. There were gum trees with vivid green leaves surrounding the edge, and the gentle breeze was sending little ripples across the surface. He wished Mel was standing alongside him to see the beauty here. The voice of his cousin Kate from South Australia popped into his mind.
You think she’d see it as beautiful? More likely she’d see dirt and no comfort. Never understood why you went for her, Dave.
Shut up, Kate, Dave thought. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about Kate’s opinion of his wife. His cousin had never been able to stop her thoughts coming out as words and he remembered the first time she’d met Melinda. Dave hadn’t been left with any doubt about what Kate thought of her, but that hadn’t stopped him marrying her.
Picking up a stone, Dave tossed it up and down in his hand, thinking about Mel and Bec. He’d wanted to call them tonight, but when he’d checked his phone earlier, there wasn’t range.
The anger of the words she’d said to him before he left surfaced again and he hurled the rock into the water. He watched it fall into the deep, ripples spreading out; just like Mel’s words, the ripples started small and ended up affecting the whole pool—just like they had affected his whole life. Maybe Kate had been right.
A kangaroo hopped down from the rocks to the water’s edge and crouched down to drink. Bec would love it here, he thought. I wish I could show her. Digging in his pocket, he found his small digital camera and snapped a shot. He could tell her a story about it when he got home.
He heard a twig snap behind him and saw Bob wandering over, beer in his hand.
‘What’s happening out here, son? Not a bad view, is it?’
‘Beautiful,’ Dave answered, looking back across the water. ‘The galahs are pretty noisy!’
‘Just like a gaggle of girls at the hairdressers! You want to call home tonight? You can use the sat phone if you like.’ He came to a stop next to Dave and handed him a beer from his pocket. ‘Here you go, son. Get that into you.’
Dave wondered if Bob was able to read people’s minds. ‘That’d be great, thanks.’ He popped the top and raised the can towards his partner.
‘Go on, then.’ Bob jerked his head towards the car and stood at the water while Dave went back to the car and retrieved the satellite phone.
‘Hi, sweetie, it’s me,’ Dave said when he got through. There was a pause as the words beamed up to the depths of space and back down to his lounge room in Perth.
‘Hello.’
‘How are you? Everything okay?’
‘Fine.’
Dave heard the clipped tone and knew that everything wasn’t fine. God, how he hated that word. Fine never meant fine. And she was back to those one-word answers. The ones he loathed.
‘How’s Bec?’
‘Good.’
‘And bub?’
‘Good, too.’
Geez, it was going to be like pulling teeth. He wanted to ask how long he’d have to do penance for, but decided it wasn’t worth inflaming the situation. Not while he was away.
‘What did you do today?’
‘Doctor’s appointment. But don’t worry. Everything is fine.’
There it was again. Fine.
‘Can I talk to Bec?’
She didn’t answer, but Dave could hear her walking. ‘Honey? It’s Daddy.’
‘Daddy!’
‘How’s my little princess?’ he asked.
‘I had fun at Gran and Gramps today. We went to da playground.’
‘Did you? Did you have a swing?’
‘Yep!’
‘Do you know what I saw today, Bec?’ He looked up at the darkening sky. The sun’s light hadn’t completely gone so he could see the shine of the evening star against the deep mauve sky.
‘What?’
He imagined her staring up at his face, her eyes wide as she waited to hear. His heart gave a little pump of sadness. Missing Bec was the hard part about this job.
‘A kangaroo! He came right down in front of me and had a drink at the waterhole we’re camping next to tonight.’
‘A real kangaroo?’
‘Yep, a real one! I saw it hopping and everything.’ He thought of the little girl at the station today and the fear he’d seen in her eyes as she’d tried to get her dad’s attention. Bec’s tone was so different, full of awe and wonder.
‘Wow!’
A bird call sounded above him and he glanced up again. This time a lone wedgetail eagle soared in the fading light.
How far away from his daughter he was.
Mel’s voice was in the background. ‘Finish up now, honey. It’s time for bed.’
‘Bye, Daddy!’
‘Nigh-night, sweetie.’
‘Go and jump into bed and I’ll be there to read you a story in a minute, okay?’
Dave heard Bec answer and then Mel was back on the line.
‘I better go,’ she said.
‘Mel …’
‘When are you coming home?’
Dave gave a sigh of frustration. ‘I don’t know yet. Probably another week. We’ve—’
‘A week?’ Her tone turned frigid. ‘So, you’ll just get back and then have to go again? To Queensland? Dad said it would be like this but I didn’t believe him.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’ He would’ve loved to have grabbed Mark by the throat about now and squeezed, because Dave knew where this conversation was going to end up.
‘Bloody hell, Dave, how do you think I’m feeling back here? This job just about kills you and I’m left to patch you up, then not one day back into it and you’re on the road again! What about Bec and I? Let alone the birth of our baby.’
‘Come on, Mel, you know this is how it has to be.’ He glanced around, hoping that Bob couldn’t hear what he was saying.
‘I’m sick of it. Listen to me, Dave. I’m really sick of it. Maybe Dad’s right when he says you enjoy being away more than at home.’ The line went dead.
‘Mel?’ He took the phone away from his ear and looked at it. ‘Mel? Goddamnit!’ He put the phone back in the case and stomped around the back of the troopy to get another beer. Popping the top, he drained it in one mouthful, then got another one. ‘Damn it to hell!’ he whispered ferociously. Fucking Mark and his fucking opinions. He always managed to get inside Mel’s head.
He saw sparks from the fire shoot up into the sky and he realised Bob must be back.
Peering around the edge of the vehicle he saw Bob was standing next to the fire poking at the coals.
Dave fished around in the fridge and drew out another beer and took it to Bob, before he slumped into his chair.
‘Trouble at home, son?’ Bob asked after a moment or two of quiet.
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Dave said, taking another gulp.
‘Ah.’
They sat in silence, Dave going over the conversation in his head—the words he’d wanted to say but hadn’t.
I love you, Mel, but you’ve got to
stop doing this to us! I don’t know if I can fight it anymore. I love the job and you!
‘You right there, son?’
The words filtered through the yelling in his head and Dave refocused on Bob. ‘What?’
‘You’re about to crush the can in your hand. Come on, out with it. A problem shared is a problem halved.’
Dave shook his head. He just wanted to hit something. Yell at Mel. Tell her father that he needed to stay out of their business.
Bob turned and looked at him. ‘Son, if you think you’re going through something none of us have been through before, then you’re kidding yourself. If you want to take on the life of a stockie, you’ll have to get used to communicating on the phone and being away from home.’
Frustration and anger at Mel made Dave stand up so quickly his chair fell over backwards. He pointed at Bob. ‘You don’t know or understand me,’ he said heatedly. ‘My circumstances are a bit different to everyone else’s.’
‘Are they? Why do you think that?’
‘Look, I just don’t want to talk about it.’ Dave stomped around to the back of the car and pulled another beer out of the fridge. He didn’t need it yet, but he had to do something. The rage inside him was almost at boiling point.
‘You’re not Robinson Crusoe, son,’ Bob called out to him. ‘Every stockie I know has been on that island you’re sitting on at the moment.’
‘Fuck, what is it with your stupid clichés? And while we’re at it, I’m not your son. Don’t call me that. It’s just fucking patronising.’
‘Now, now, son, don’t have a crack at me. I know it’s not me you’re pissed off with. Come and settle down. All of us have had our troubles over the years. It goes hand in hand with the job. No point in getting all worked up over it.’
‘At least I’m not trying to drown my issues at every opportunity,’ Dave snapped back.
Bob shot to his feet and took two steps towards Dave, pointing a finger at him. ‘Boy, you need to go and wash your mouth out,’ he said menacingly. ‘You’ve got no idea what I’ve lived and seen and you couldn’t even imagine, so don’t bother trying. You might’ve got yourself shot through your own stupidity, but don’t think that makes you a hero or above anyone else. So sit the fuck down and shut your mouth, before I shut it for you.’
Instantly ashamed of himself, Dave dropped his head. ‘Sorry. I don’t where that came from.’
‘Yeah, you do. You’re angry and frustrated at your missus. Don’t take that shit out on me. Apology accepted. Now sit down and drink your beer.’
Bob sat down and stared into the fire without saying another word. Dave followed his lead.
Chapter 14
Kevin kicked the coals back into the fire and made sure it was safe before walking back to the shed.
On the way, he stopped to handball the footy with the five little boys who were running along the creek edge, chasing the football David Wirrpanda had signed.
Harry and Charlie had left earlier to go out and check two of the bores on the eastern side of the property and Cyril and Nicky had gone west, while he was at the homestead, waiting.
He knew the stockies were coming; he’d received the phone call from Kit. Annoyed they’d seen the other station owners first, Kevin had decided he was going to be ready for them when they arrived.
‘Just a heads-up, mate,’ Kit had said. ‘Stockies are around. They’ve been to see me and Dylan Jeffries, and I reckon they’re coming your way next.’
Kevin had been pleased they’d arrived until he’d heard they’d visited all the other surrounding stations before coming to Spinifex Downs.
‘Why would they have done that?’ he said to Jackie.
‘Just like all whitefellas,’ Jackie answered. ‘Always listening to other whites first.’
‘They should’ve come here first.’
‘They were never going to.’
‘I’ll sort it, okay?’
‘You keep believing that, boy. They’re not goin’ to take any notice of you.’
‘Maybe not, but by the time I’ve finished with them, they’ll have a different point of view,’ he answered. He had a white anger burning in his stomach.
Jackie walked into the bush beside the shed without another word.
With a sound of frustration Kevin kicked at the forty-four-gallon drum lying on its side at the entrance to the shed. Inside on the cement was a trailer with a broken tailgate, so to keep busy, he got out the welder and started to patch the steel together. Better to stay active than get so furious that he didn’t behave well when the coppers turned up.
The sparks flew around his hands, some landing on his bare skin, but he didn’t notice, concentrating only on joining the two pieces back together again.
In the distance a dog barked, then another, and another, and he realised his visitors were here. He lifted the visor on the helmet and looked out into the bright daylight to see if he could see any dust. Too late. A white troopy had already pulled up, the tall aerials on the back the only things giving it away as a police vehicle.
He took off the helmet and checked his work briefly, wiping his brow, before walking outside to greet them.
‘You must be Kevin,’ the older of the two men said. ‘Bob Holden, Stock Squad. This is Detective Dave Burrows.’ He was frowning as he talked and gave Kevin the distinct impression he didn’t want to be here.
‘G’day,’ Kevin answered, nodding his head towards them.
‘You’ve had some trouble out here?’ Bob said.
‘Yeah. A bit.’ He felt the anger whirling in his stomach as he answered.
‘Want to tell us about it?’
Squatting down, Kevin began to draw in the dirt, not answering. Bob squatted down too, then Dave. The older man rubbed at his head as if it hurt and Kevin started to believe the words of his Elders. There really wasn’t any point in dealing with the coppers. They weren’t going to help him. Not this older one anyway.
Finally, Kevin looked up. ‘Not sure why you’re here,’ he said. ‘You’ve already been to all the white man stations getting their story. It was my cattle that was stolen, so why didn’t you come here first?’ He made sure he kept his voice calm and quiet.
Bob snorted and gave a jerky nod as if he was furious that Kevin had questioned his policing methods. ‘Just the way the stations are laid out, son,’ Bob said sharply. ‘Yeah, we did, we went to Deep-Water first, then on to Cassia Plains. Once we finish here, we’re off to Paperbark Valley.’ He shrugged. ‘We’re just following the map.’
‘But they’ve given you their story first. Swayed your thinking.’ Kevin stood up now and the other two shot up after him.
‘Now hang on there just one minute!’ Bob snapped. ‘This is a district matter, Kevin. Other people are involved, not just you. You’ve been targeted, son, and it sounds like Kit has been too. Maybe even set up. Yeah, we’ve talked to others already, but it doesn’t matter which order we’ve spoken to everyone. We’re keeping an open mind and we’re here to listen to your side of things now.’
‘You and your condescending white talk,’ Kevin snarled. He wasn’t sure he could hold himself together now. He’d been wrestling with his decision to report the stolen cattle and now all the guilt, fear and worry from going against his Elders was boiling to the surface. ‘You will have already formed your opinion, I’m sure. You’re not here to help us. Just like everyone else.’
His raised voice brought three young men out of the bush.
‘You right, Kev?’ one asked as they came to stand behind him.
‘Yeah.’ He didn’t turn to look at them.
Bob took a deep breath and raised his eyes towards the heavens, before speaking with exaggerated patience. ‘Mate, I really think we’ve got off on the wrong foot here. And I’m sorry about that. My fault. Look, we’ve come to help you all. We don’t care whether you’re black or white. Dave here and me, we’re police for everyone. Don’t know what experience you’ve had with other coppers, but we’re straight up
and down. All right?’
The young man didn’t hear the words. Just the tone: impatient, annoyed and irritated. Pretty much how Kevin was feeling himself. He looked at the men and the younger copper started to talk.
‘Look, I reckon we probably need to calm down. Why don’t you and I go for a drive, Kev? You can show me what paddock the cattle were taken from and where it all happened. What do you think?’
‘Yeah, good idea,’ Bob said. ‘You lot fuck off and I’ll hang around here.’
Kevin bristled but Dave quickly intervened again.
‘Where’s your ute, mate? Let’s go, yeah? Have a look around.’ He walked over to his car, grabbed a bag and hoisted it over his shoulder, before waiting expectantly.
Kevin considered what the younger bloke had said. Maybe he’d be okay. Maybe, like him, this younger cop wouldn’t have the preconceived ideas that the older generation had. Maybe he should give him a go.
‘This way,’ Kevin said. ‘You boys, you go back. I’m right here.’ He turned and walked to his ute and waited until Dave got in, then drove away.
In the passenger’s seat, Dave kept checking the side mirror, worried that Bob might leave without him. Bob was suffering this morning. He had a hangover from the night before and Bob was in a seriously bad mood. In the time they’d spent together—which wasn’t long, Dave admitted—he’d never seen Bob anything other than professional, no matter what he’d had to drink the night before.
But last night Bob’d brought out a bottle of Wild Turkey Honey Whiskey. Rocket fuel. A drink to give even the most seasoned of drinkers a hangover.
Dave felt bad. Maybe his accusations last night had brought up Bob’s buried memories. Or maybe he just loved drinking. But Dave’s instinct told him there was something Bob was trying to forget and last night had brought it a bit too close to the surface for comfort.
This morning the sun had risen before Bob even moved in his swag and his normal cheerful persona had been replaced with an angry, dark mood that Dave knew was fuelled by a monstrous headache—he’d seen Bob popping some painkillers just before they packed up camp. The old bloke had hardly said a word in the hour’s drive to Spinifex Downs.
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