He’d got through most of his life making small stuff-ups, until he’d met Bulldust.
A gentle morning breeze blew across his face. It made him think of the morning Bulldust had found him up-ended in a ditch. He’d been on the run from some small-town criminals he’d accidentally pissed off. They’d threatened him after he’d walked in on them holding a gun at the local shopkeeper. As much as he’d tried to back out quietly, swearing he’d never seen anything, the three men hadn’t believed him. One bloke had stayed with the shopkeeper and the other two had chased Bill.
He’d made it to his ute and had driven away, with the crims giving chase. He’d gunned the motor then swerved to miss a kangaroo and rolled his ute. When Bulldust had found him, the two men were leaning over him with a shotgun.
It hadn’t taken too long for Bulldust to fix the problem.
Bill now owed him.
Especially when he’d heard on the radio two days later that the shopkeeper had been found dead. Shot. He would’ve been able to identify the other man who’d been holding up the shop. He’d obviously turned killer. Bulldust had fixed that issue, too.
From then on, Bill owed him twice.
And now, by talking to his brother, he’d given Bulldust reason to get rid of him.
Every part of his body ached and he could feel something crusty around his nose and mouth. His lips were dry and when he licked them he could taste blood.
‘Bastards,’ he tried to hiss, but his tongue wouldn’t work.
His hands were untied and so he pushed himself up to standing. Looking around warily, he couldn’t see anyone. Had they belted him and brought him out here to teach him a lesson? Was he lucky enough not to have anything else done to him?
‘Please, please, please,’ he said quietly to himself.
A wave of dizziness flooded over him and he lay back down again.
‘Need a hand?’
The voice came out of nowhere.
Bill froze, not wanting to open his eyes in case the offer went away.
‘Looks like you do. Here, let me.’
A pair of strong hands grabbed him underneath his armpits and hoisted him to his feet.
Bill couldn’t see the good Samaritan’s face—he was still behind him.
‘Than—’ was all he got out before he vomited all over his bare feet.
Oh god! His feet were bare. In all the Mafia movies he’d seen, that was how they left their victims: no shoes so they couldn’t walk for help!
Another pair of hands grabbed one arm and he was led over to the road. Bill tried to work out where he was, but he didn’t recognise this country. It was unlike the land around Nundrew.
‘We’ll wait here,’ the voice said behind him. ‘You look like you need a spell. Hopefully a car will come along soon.’
‘Water?’ Bill got the word out.
‘In a minute.’
‘Who …’
‘Try not to talk. It’ll just wear you out.’
Bill wanted to twist around and see who was helping him. Who had helped him stand up and where had they come from—he hadn’t seen a car before he’d collapsed again. Maybe he’d passed out and hadn’t heard it pull up.
Or maybe there hadn’t been one at all.
‘No,’ he muttered. ‘No. My brother knows. He’ll go to cops.’ The effort to talk exhausted him.
‘I can promise you that Charlie won’t go to the cops.’ The voice was so close to his ear, Bill could smell the sourness of the man’s bad breath. ‘We’ll make sure of that.’
The noise of an engine came to Bill. He realised now that they were standing in the middle of a road. It was a long straight stretch.
Lights switched on and gears changed. The car was getting faster and faster.
‘No,’ Bill said again, using every ounce of the strength he had to try to get away. He couldn’t budge the iron grip of the man behind him.
The car held a straight line, aiming right at Bill and the man; surely Bulldust wouldn’t kill them both, would he?
‘Please,’ Bill tried one more time. ‘I’ll pay you everything I have. Just let me go.’
‘So I can end up how you’re about to? I don’t reckon. You were an idiot, Bill,’ the voice said.
Bill whimpered, his knees giving out on him. He crumpled but the man pulled him back up again.
‘Stand up like a man,’ he said. ‘Take this like a man. You’ve brought it all on yourself. You could’ve lived a happy life, not wanting for anything, but instead you shot your mouth off and now you’re getting what you deserve. See, you forgot one thing, Bill. It’s not just Bulldust you’ve upset, it’s the whole team, ’cause you’ve put us all in danger.’
Bill realised the vehicle wasn’t a car but a bull buggy, and at the same time he realised what had been said and that he was about to die.
‘Oh god, please don’t!’ he screamed as the faceless man shoved Bill into the path of the vehicle and jumped safely away.
Chapter 10
‘G’day, Dylan,’ Dave said as he walked through the door into Strictly Agriculture and saw the local stock agent. He knew Dylan’s face from the advertising in the Farm Weekly magazine that he tried to read every week. Dave had rung earlier to say he was coming.
Now, he held out his hand. ‘I’m Detective Dave Burrows.’
‘Dave. How’re things?’ Dylan stopped at his desk and dumped the file he was carrying.
‘All good, mate. You got the message I was coming for a yarn?’
Dylan frowned. ‘I’ve not long got here. What’s up?’
Another employee came in from outside. ‘I’ve had Jono Fullagar in here this morning. He wanted some lick blocks, but the truck isn’t due until tomorrow, so he wanted to know if you’re heading out his way, Dylan.’ He stopped as he saw Dave. ‘Ah, sorry, mate, didn’t realise you were serving.’
‘You’re right. Anyway, Dave’s not here to buy, he’s here to ask a few questions. He’s a copper. This is Alan, my merch manager.’
‘Yeah, right?’ Alan turned his curious gaze onto Dave, while Dylan wrote himself a note. ‘Oh, you’re the bloke I spoke to earlier. Said you wanted to come in for a talk.’
‘That’s me,’ Dave answered, holding out his hand. ‘Nice to meet you.
‘Jono Fullagar, you said?’ Dylan asked, interrupting their chatter.
‘Yeah, can you take some out to him, or is someone headed his way?’ Alan nodded.
‘I’ll sort it. Probably won’t be until Thursday, if that suits him?’
‘He’s got enough to get through the next couple of days, so that’ll be fine. Thanks for that.’
A woman walked through the sliding door at the front and a gust of hot air followed her. ‘Morning, all,’ she said as she put her handbag on the counter.
‘Hi, Eliza,’ Dylan said. ‘This is Dave Burrows. He’s a detective. This is Eliza Francis. She’s our secretary.’
‘Oh, hi,’ she said curiously. ‘What’s …’ She stopped as the phone rang and rolled her eyes. ‘Here we go.’ Eliza snatched up the phone as she dumped her handbag on the floor next to her desk and turned on the computer. ‘Strictly Agriculture, Eliza speaking.’ Listening for a moment, she picked up a pen and started writing a few notes. ‘Uh huh, sure.’ Pause. ‘Yep, no worries, I’ll pass the message on. Bye now.’
‘Hey, has anyone seen Jeff today? He’s not usually late,’ Alan asked. ‘That wasn’t him on the phone, was it?’
‘Nope, head office wanting the monthly reports. Have you had time to do them yet, Dylan?’
‘Actually, that’s why I’m here.’ Dave finally managed to get a word in.
‘What do you mean?’ Alan asked, sitting down at his desk.
‘Jeff’s been reported missing.’
‘Missing? What do you mean, missing?’ Dylan looked over at the detective as Eliza gasped.
‘We found his ute out on Clydie Road yesterday. There was no sign of him. Would I be able to ask you all a few questions about Jeff?’
The phone rang in the background, but they all ignored it.
‘We haven’t been able to contact him. Was he at work yesterday?’
Eliza shook her head. ‘It was his day off.’
‘I see.’
‘Is Mary okay? What about the kids?’ Dylan asked. ‘Maybe you could start from the beginning because I’m a bit lost with what’s going on.’
The phone rang again and Dave looked at Eliza. ‘Do you want to answer it and I’ll wait?’
She reached over and took the phone off the hook. ‘That’ll fix it,’ she said.
Dave explained everything that had happened over the past twenty-four hours. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t heard already,’ Dave finished. ‘It was on the news last night and seems to have spread through the town like wildfire.’
‘Typical small communities,’ Dylan said. ‘I’d have to agree with you. It’s really strange no one has rung us.’
‘Can you tell me what Jeff’s job was here?’
‘He helps me out,’ Alan said. ‘I manage the merchandise and he serves customers, writes up invoices, unpacks and puts away stock. Deals with anything and everything when I’m not here.’
‘And you do what?’ Dave asked, looking over at Eliza.
‘I answer the phones, type the letters, help people out, but I also process all the stock sales and make sure people get paid. General dogsbody with the title of secretary, as Dyl said before.’
‘There’s only the four of you in the store?’
‘Yeah.’
Dave jotted down some notes.
‘Have any of you noticed anything out of character for Jeff recently? Has he been uptight or worried or quieter than normal? What were your last conversations with him?’
The three of them looked at each other.
‘No …’
‘I don’t think …’
‘He’s been …’
All three spoke at once then looked at each other.
‘He hasn’t been any different,’ Dylan spoke first as he glanced at the others. ‘Last week he said he had to leave early because one of the kids was sick. And he might’ve even done that the week before. I don’t think any of us thought to even question it. You got kids, they get sick. That’s life. I try to make sure it’s a family-orientated business and people can have the time they need. Without it affecting the job, of course.’
‘Yeah,’ Alan agreed. ‘He’s been doing his job, happy dealing with customers. In my experience, if there’s something wrong, it always spills over into the workplace, but I haven’t noticed anything different with him at all.’ He paused before adding, ‘Oh, I guess there were the normal whinges about the kids not sleeping and marital tiffs, but certainly nothing that raised any alarm bells me with. Believe me, I know what it’s like. I’ve two kids under two at home.’
‘Yeah, I can’t think of anything that jumps out,’ Dylan said.
‘Which is his desk? Do you think I could have a look at it?’
Dylan frowned. ‘Don’t you need a warrant or something to be able to do that?’
‘I won’t go through it, just have a bit of a squiz.’
‘That one there.’ Alan pointed to a desk piled high with papers and with two empty coffee cups sitting on it.
‘Cheers,’ Dave said. ‘And, look, if you think of anything, please give me a call.’
Dylan took the card Dave proffered.
‘I need to have a chat about another matter before I leave. Have you got time to hang around until I’ve had a look?’
‘I’ve got a delivery I need to load up,’ Alan interrupted them, looking at his watch, ‘but I’ll do anything I can to help. Just let me know.’
‘Thanks,’ Dave said. ‘Much appreciated.’
Eliza reached over and put the phone back on the hook. Immediately it rang. ‘Ditto,’ she said, before answering.
‘What are you looking for?’ Dylan asked.
Dave shrugged. ‘It’s hard to know until I see it. At the moment I’m trying to piece together the last day he was seen.’
‘I dunno, mate. I sort of feel like this is a bit of an invasion of privacy,’ he said. ‘Do you have to go through his things?’
‘We want to find him,’ Dave answered simply. ‘It’s our job to bring him home to his wife and kids. To be able to do that, I need to get an understanding of what was going on in his life, and the workplace is always a huge part of that. People spend more time at work than they do at home a lot of the time. You’d find that being on the road, wouldn’t you?’
‘Yeah, some days are really long. Leave before dawn and get home after dark. Most stockies’ jobs are like that, but here it’s the distances that kill you. Sometimes you’ve got to travel three or four hundred ks just to get to a client.’
‘What got you into being a stock agent?’
‘Love the country but couldn’t afford a farm. Grew up on a station in the north of the state, so I understand station people. Best of both worlds really. I get a weekly pay cheque and still play with animals and spend a lot of time outside.’
Dave half listened as he rifled through drawers and checked the rubbish bin. He couldn’t see anything that raised alarm bells with him. Straightening up, he opened the top drawer. ‘Sounds like a dream job.’
‘Yeah, I love it. Wouldn’t want to do anything else.’ Dylan paused. ‘Look, I don’t mean to pry, and I’m sure you’re limited in what you can tell us, but how do we help Mary and the kids? Mary must be out of her mind.’
Dave had one last look through the files on Jeff’s desk as he answered. ‘I guess all you can do is be there for her. Call around. See if you can do some shopping for her or take one of the kids to the playground. It doesn’t sound like she has any family here. Practical things are always helpful in these sorts of situations, but so is just being there.’ Dave looked up at him. ‘Do you know Mary well?’
‘No,’ he answered. ‘We don’t socialise outside of work, but family is everything to me. I hate to think she’s over there by herself without any support. Once you’ve finished up here, I’m going to go and see what I can do.’
‘Good plan. In times like this, people need to know who their friends are.’ He closed the drawer and came out from behind the desk. ‘Are you the stock agent for Narandrah Springs?’
‘Yeah, I am. Why’s that?’
‘The boundary for that station is not far from where we found Jeff’s vehicle, and one of the other detectives at the scene noticed there was cattle shit out there. Because it’s still a fair distance away, we were concerned that there were cattle nearby. Can you give me the owner’s phone number, so I can give them a call? Let them know I’ll pop in when I’m out that way. My guess is that the cattle have got through a fence and need mustering before they get further than they should. Who owns it?’
‘Fella by the name of Jono Fullagar. That’s who we were talking about earlier. But he doesn’t like visitors much. How about when I go out tomorrow, I’ll let him know you might ring to organise a time to see him? If you turn up unannounced, you might get a shotgun pulled on you.’
Dave gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Wouldn’t be the first time. Look, I’m happy to let you manage it. If you could pass on the message, that would be great. I understand how those old bushies work. They don’t like people full stop, let alone visitors. They’re happy with their own company, dogs and cattle.’
‘You hit the nail on the head. Did you used to be in the agricultural industry?’
Dave grinned. ‘Frustrated son of a farmer. There wasn’t any room at home for me, so I had to do something different. Where do you market most of the cattle from here?’
‘Some feedlots take them on, but in good seasons we can sell through the saleyards.’
‘You know, I thought there were only three markets for station cattle: a vessel, a boat and a ship.’
>
‘What?’ Dylan was confused, then he realised what Dave had said. ‘Ha, very funny. Yeah, live export is the best market for us, but I’m sure you’re up on how controversial that is these days. In fact, the government has taken the licences from our main exporter. It’s bloody wrong, but we can’t do anything about it. Just going to have to adapt and hope like hell not too many places go bankrupt and good people lose their jobs.’
‘Isn’t that the truth? Well, I’m about done here. Is there any chance those cattle could be another station’s?’
‘Not really. The next place on is a good twenty ks away. Look, leave it with me. I’ll speak to everyone in a fifty-k radius. Sound okay?’
‘Great.’
‘Did you actually see the cattle?’ Dylan asked. ‘Could you see a brand?’
‘I wasn’t there, mate. One of the other detectives was and I’m sure he didn’t. Just cattle shit. No identifying features on that!’
‘I wonder if it could’ve been old. You know, maybe they got out and went back through the fence when they couldn’t find water.’
‘Good point. I’ll check and see if he knows the difference! I might go for a look out in that area over the next few days. When I get some spare time. See what I can see.’ He held out his hand. ‘Good to see you, Dylan. Sure I’ll see you round the place at some stage.’
‘Probably will.’
‘Don’t forget to give me a call if you think of anything that might help us find Jeff.’
‘Will do.’
Chapter 11
A cloud of black, buzzing in anger, rose from the side of the road. Senior Sergeant Justin Parker and his detective, Andy Stevens, took a step towards the rotting corpse. Flies. They were the only insects that were taking an interest in the dead body at the moment, although looking at it Justin wondered if a pig or a dingo might have had a chew in more recent times. Certainly the smell would be enough to attract the attention of the wild dogs.
Without a Doubt Page 7