He opened several of the maps at once, laying them side by side, studying them closely for any pattern, for any clue as to why the purchases had been made. But it taught him nothing. The purchases appeared to be little more than a collection of unremarkable tracts of farmland, of no use to anyone but farmers. And the more he considered it, the more absurd it seemed. The detectives’ suggestions that the Rashids and their company might be planning to use the land for terrorism or for a large-scale drug operation were simply ridiculous.
O’Reilly was still on the phone, halfway through a tale of his exploits as a punter. Arbor figured he had some time yet. He zoomed in on the map featuring the largest parcel of land.
The land sat along the west side of the Whitney road, running from not far beyond the Chatton town limits for just over ten kilometres until it reached an intersection. Here the purchase spread out to include land on both sides of the Whitney road. Arbor recognised, by the legend, that the intersecting road was dirt. But there was something else. He wasn’t sure. He looked closer. And then it hit him. He knew this small parcel of land on the east side of the Whitney road. He knew it because he had travelled it only two days before.
It was the land on which Henry Hogg had built his bright new piggery.
Arbor wasn’t sure what he had expected. Perhaps one easily identifiable rogue? One early arrest that would impress O’Reilly and the city pair as well? This was obviously not forthcoming. Now he was in a quandary, in a tangle of half-leads and possibilities. Which line of inquiry should he follow? The Blairs and their possible connection to the Purity League? It had seemed so likely just an hour ago. Or Henry Hogg and the Pakistani ‘land-grab’? At first meeting, he had disliked Hogg intensely. But then again, there was the detectives’ notion of a wider Pakistani connection. Terrorism and international drug trafficking? He couldn’t decide. He reached into his pocket for a coin.
Heads, he decided, he would pay the Blairs another visit. Tails, Henry Hogg. If the coin landed on its edge, he would accept that the detectives knew their stuff and he would leave it all to them.
He tossed.
‘Hey, Sarge?’
‘What?’
‘Do you mind if I shoot through? I want to see a few people before I call it a day.’
‘Please yourself,’ said O’Reilly. ‘You can get on someone else’s tits.’
Arbor didn’t wait.
‘Hi there, Danny.’
Dotty Hogg was sitting on the verandah, the ginger Tom asleep in her lap. They looked a well-matched pair.
‘Hi, Dotty,’ said Arbor. ‘I’m after Mr Hogg … Henry. Is he around?’
‘He’ll be up with the pigs if he is,’ she said. ‘He usually is, this time of day.’
‘Thanks.’
Arbor waved her goodbye and drove slowly towards the piggery, the wheels of the paddy wagon once again sliding through the runoff from the shed. The whole area, Arbor mused, stank like … Well, there was no comparison.
He rounded the corner to the main entrance. Three vehicles were parked in the shade, two utes and a Land Cruiser. Hogg has visitors, by the look of it, thought Arbor. I’ll make my visit short and sweet. He parked alongside the Land Cruiser, alighted and entered the piggery.
The noise outside was bad enough, but inside it was horrendous. There were at least a thousand souls all squealing for their lives. But, while he had expected to be wading in pig shit, Arbor found the concrete floor surprisingly clean. And the shining steel theme he had seen on the outside of the building had been continued inside. Waist-high stalls ran throughout the building, their bars glimmering from the floodlights on the ceiling. It was considerably cooler inside, Arbor noted, no doubt for the comfort of the pigs. It was a little ironic, he thought, given their eventual fate. It was all about keeping the animals healthy and, of course, delicious.
Hogg was at the far end of the building, in conference with two other men. Of about the same age and build. They could have been brothers. Arbor approached.
‘He’s not here.’
‘Eh?’
‘Harry. He went into town about an hour ago. Sure as hell, he’ll be at the pub.’
‘Yeah, well. That’s all right,’ said Arbor. ‘Actually, I’m here to see you.’
‘Yeah? What about?’ said Hogg.
Arbor looked at the other men.
‘Don’t worry,’ Hogg continued. ‘It’s fine. I’ve no secrets from these two. Jim and Phil know things about me I don’t know myself, I reckon. Speak your mind.’
Please yourself, thought Arbor. Here goes.
‘Something’s come up,’ he said. ‘In the course of our inquiry. I’m not naming names or anything, but … Well, according to Landgate records, you might not actually own this land.’
‘What land?’
‘This land. Where we are now.’
‘You what? What are you talking about?’ said Hogg. ‘My family’s owned this land for a hundred years. Fuck off, I don’t own this land.’
‘Well,’ said Arbor. ‘The records I’ve seen suggest—’
‘I don’t care what your bloody records suggest,’ said Hogg. ‘They must be wrong. Either that, or you need your eyes tested.’
Arbor started to wonder. How sure could he be of the detectives’ facts? Maybe not quite as sure as he had thought. Perhaps he had crossed the line. He would not risk raising the man’s ire any further by bringing up Salim Rashid. That would wait for another time. But Hogg did it for him.
‘I was telling Jim and Phil,’ said Hogg. ‘About your Paki. It was a real shame, that was, especially the way he went. It’s the sort of thing that gives a place a bad name. If you know what I mean. Have you got any clues, yet, Constable? Hey, you were looking for the daughter, weren’t you? Any luck on that front?’
‘No. Not yet.’
‘Yeah, well, I wouldn’t waste my time with our Harry. This is the first time he’s left the farm in over a week, so he can’t have anything to do with it.’
‘Okay. If you say.’
The lack of answers was distinctly dissatisfying, but Arbor waited, on the off-chance Hogg might have something more to add. He didn’t. He turned his back on Arbor and renewed his banter with his mates. At a whisper, Arbor noted, apart from the occasional chortling laugh. Arbor didn’t know whether to stay or leave.
‘Are you still here?’
Hogg was looking down his nose at him. He could sense the critical gaze of the mates, as well.
‘Yeah, I guess I’ll be off, then,’ said Arbor, searching for something else to say. ‘I might have to see you again, though. To ask you a few more questions.’
‘Yeah, you do that.’
Hogg was openly mocking him now.
Get out of here, Danny, thought Arbor. Just go. He turned his back and headed for the door, once again, to laughter. Lying bastard, he thought. He knows full well he doesn’t own the land. And if he isn’t up to something that’s at least slightly dodgy, well, then, pigs might fly.
He would check things out a bit more back at the station, he decided. But that would be tomorrow. O’Reilly had given him the rest of the day and he planned to make the most of it. He climbed into the paddy wagon, started it up and headed back towards the Whitney road.
‘Hey, Danny.’
‘Hi, Jenny. How’s it going?’
‘Good. Amira’s awake. I just did her some beans on toast. She scoffed the lot.’
‘That’s good to hear. Do you think she could handle a few questions? I need to ask her a few things.’
‘You could try, I suppose. But she’s still a bit jumpy, Danny, if you know what I mean.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘I’ve a feeling she needs to see a friendly face. One of her mates, maybe. Someone she can relax with. I mean, she hardly knows the two of us, does she? It might help you along, as well, in the long run. What do you reckon?’
‘Yeah, I’m with you. Listen, I’m just approaching the pub. I know Harry Hogg’s in there … But, no. Bugger
it. Not him. I’m not sure bringing him out would be such a good idea. I don’t think he’d be much good for her. He might just make things worse. How about Jacinta Wallis? Do you know her? They’re just about best mates, as far as I can tell.’
‘Will she come?’
‘Yeah, I think so. She only lives around the corner. I’ll drop in and see her. She’s asked about Amira a few times. I’m sure she’ll be rapt that Amira’s okay and, if I’ve read her right, she’ll be stoked at the opportunity to see her. I’ll give you a bell in ten and let you know how I got on.’
Jacinta’s old man was in the front garden, hand watering a bed of agapanthus. Arbor hadn’t noticed the type of plant on his last visit and, in the Chatton dust, they seemed somehow out of place this time around.
‘Hi, Mr Wallis,’ said Arbor. ‘Is Jacinta around?’
‘She was a minute ago,’ said Wallis. ‘She was getting ready to go to the pub. You can take her there, if you like. That way I’m not worrying all night about her driving the car.’
‘Yeah, I can do that,’ said Arbor.
‘Just go in,’ said the man. ‘I’m sure she’s decent.’
‘No, no. It’s all right,’ said Arbor, taking a step back. ‘I’ll wait.’
Wallis turned to face him. The hose’s spray came dangerously close to Arbor’s feet.
‘You’ll be waiting forever, knowing her,’ he said. ‘Is it about the Rashid girl? Yeah, a real shame, that was. I didn’t know Salim that well. Just for the occasional chat when he came into the offices. He seemed like an all right bloke … Russell!’
One of the Wallis tribe had come bounding out of the house.
‘Russell,’ said Wallis. ‘Get back in there and tell Jacinta to get her arse into gear.’
‘You mentioned the offices earlier,’ said Arbor. ‘You work for the shire, do you?’
‘In a manner of speaking,’ said Wallis. ‘I work for myself, mostly. I’m a CPA. But I handle the shire’s accounts, too. There’s not much to it, really.’
‘And Salim? What did he …?’
Arbor got no further. Jacinta emerged from the house, letting the screen door slam.
‘Hi, Constable Arbor,’ she said. Her smile was more mischievous than friendly.
Oh, God, no, thought Arbor. That’s all I need.
‘The constable is going to drop you off,’ said Wallis. ‘You can ring me when the pub closes and I’ll come and pick you up.’
‘Ah, but, Dad,’ Jacinta whined. ‘We might kick on.’
‘I’ve stopped listening,’ said the man. ‘Midnight. No later.’
Jacinta shuffled her way to the paddy wagon, swinging her bag like a weapon. She got in and slammed the door.
‘She’s all yours,’ said Wallis.
‘Yeah, thanks,’ said Arbor, not quite meaning it.
He headed for the wagon. Should he have told Wallis of his real intention? He wasn’t sure. No, stuff it, he decided. It was an iffy one, but Jacinta was old enough to make up her own mind.
The girl was smiling at him as he got in.
‘Put on your seatbelt,’ he said. ‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Jacinta, but this is a police vehicle.’
‘Yeah, all right,’ she said.
Arbor offered the father a perfunctory wave and then reversed out onto the road.
‘Listen, Jacinta.’ He wasn’t sure what to say next. ‘Listen. I was wondering. I can drop you at the pub if you want, or …’
‘Or what?’ said Jacinta. ‘What did you have in mind, Danny? That is your name, isn’t it? Do you mind if I call you Danny?’
‘No, not if you have to,’ said Arbor.
‘So what did you have in mind?’
He felt sure she had moved her leg closer to his.
‘No. God. No, nothing like that, Jacinta,’ he said. ‘It’s just that … I’ve found Amira. She’s—’
‘Oh, my God!’ said Jacinta. ‘How is she? Is she all right? Is she hurt?’
‘No, she’s okay,’ said Arbor. ‘She was pretty shaken up, I reckon, but from what I’ve heard, she’s on the mend. She’s out at Jenny Martin’s place. I was wondering if I—’
‘Could take me out there?’ said Jacinta. ‘You bet you can. Put the pedal to the metal, mister. And don’t spare the horses.’
He was tempted to flash the blue light, to sound the siren and give the girl the ride of her life. But perhaps not, he thought. Instead, by the time he hit the Melton road, he was in cruise control and had his mind on Jenny.
Jacinta was out of the paddy wagon before it had stopped. She met Amira in a clutch of cries, wails and indecipherable words. Each wiped away the other’s tears.
‘Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,’ said Arbor. ‘The girl’s a loose cannon.’
He had joined Jenny on the verandah. The girls had already drifted away from them, seeking some privacy.
‘By the looks of it, they’ll be talking all night,’ said Jenny.
‘Ah, no drama, I suppose,’ said Arbor. ‘If worse comes to worst, I’ll quiz Jacinta on the way back to town. When I remind her to keep her trap shut. And as far as Amira’s concerned … Well, we’re still on for tomorrow, aren’t we? Those pipes? The roast? I can talk to her then.’
‘Yeah, that’ll be fine,’ said Jenny.
‘I’ll finish at the station around noon,’ said Arbor. ‘By the time I get home and get changed … I should be here by about one.’
‘No worries,’ said Jenny. ‘And, listen, if you fancy a drink or two, it’s no problem. The couch is pretty comfy. Just remember to bring your toothbrush.’
The girls moved further away, and then disappeared around the side of the house. Arbor laughed.
‘Well, that’s that, then,’ he said. ‘As you say, we won’t see them until morning. What are we to do now?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Jenny. ‘How’s about a cuppa?’
‘As always,’ Arbor replied.
He followed Jenny into the house.
‘So have you learned anything?’ she asked.
‘I’ve picked up on a few things,’ said Arbor. ‘Say, you wouldn’t have heard of a crowd called the Australian Rural Union, would you?’
‘The Rooies?’ said Jenny. ‘Yeah, sure. Everybody has. My old man was a member. All the old blokes around here are. It’s a bit of an old farts’ club. They’re pretty well set in their ways, but they’re basically harmless. They run the chook raffles at the pub.’
‘Uh-huh,’ said Arbor. ‘And what about the National Purity League?’
‘No,’ said Jenny. ‘I can’t say I’ve heard of them. Who are they?’
‘They’re a bunch of white nationalists, as far as I can tell,’ said Arbor. ‘I did a bit of research on them. From what I’ve found, it seems like they’ve managed to snuggle themselves up inside the Rural Union. Mostly in Queensland, but here in WA, too. By the looks of it, I reckon the Blairs next door are up to their necks in it.’
‘Shit,’ said Jenny. ‘Have you any proof?’
‘No, not yet,’ said Arbor. ‘Not a scrap. But I’m working on it.’
He laughed.
‘You should have seen the reception they gave Nathan yesterday,’ he said.
‘Yeah. I can imagine,’ said Jenny. ‘Anything else?’
‘Something just as vague on the other side of town,’ Arbor continued. ‘It seems Amira’s dad might have been a part of a collective buying up big out Whitney way. There’s always the chance he put someone’s nose out of joint out there.’
‘Like who?’ said Jenny.
‘Like Henry Hogg, for instance,’ said Arbor. ‘Hoggy’s dad. The crafty old bugger might be using some of Rashid’s land. Building on it, too.’
‘Bastard … Here, sit down.’
Jenny passed him his coffee.
‘Have you said anything to him?’ she continued.
‘I tried to,’ said Arbor. ‘But he really gave me a hard time of it. This arvo. He was with two other blokes … Jim and Phil?’
She joined him at the table.
‘This might seem an odd time to say it, Danny,’ she said, taking his hand. ‘But I reckon we’re lucky to have you.’
‘Why?’ said Arbor. ‘How do you mean?’
‘I mean, there’s no getting around it, is there?’ said Jenny. ‘You’re about the only cop here worth his salt. Your sergeant … Well, he wouldn’t work in an iron lung. And those two detectives … God, that woman’s a piece of work, isn’t she? Bigger nuts than a Brahma bull.’
They laughed. Jenny offered a smile.
‘You haven’t, have you?’ she said.
‘What? Who, me?’ said Arbor. ‘No way.’
‘Come on, Danny,’ Jenny continued. ‘I won’t judge you. I promise.’
‘No, I haven’t,’ said Arbor. ‘Honest.’
Jenny laughed.
‘Hey, I believe you,’ she said. ‘But thousands wouldn’t. I might get the girls in, eh? It’ll be getting cool out there. Do you want to stay for tea?’
‘No,’ said Arbor. ‘It’s tempting, but I’d better not. I want to catch up with the Ds. I’ll give the girls another hour or so then I’ll drop Jacinta at the pub. I’ll just have to pray that she can keep her mouth shut. And as sure as hell, I’ll find the Ds there. And I can grab myself a counter meal.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Jenny. ‘Those counter meals can be pretty crappy.’
‘To tell you the truth,’ said Arbor, ‘I’m not sure about anything these days. But I reckon it’s best.’
‘Okay,’ said Jenny. ‘Whatever you say.’
She stepped outside, calling Amira’s name. With the door open, Arbor, too, could feel the night chill.
It seemed a shame to break the silence, but Jacinta looked ready to close her eyes, and he wanted to pump her for information before they got into town.
‘Do you still want me to drop you at the pub?’ he asked. ‘You’re not too tired?’
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