Hitch Hikers by Ian Dolby - HTML preview

I turned the wheel over to Zoe to navigate the by-now familiar twisting, shallow channel using the reverse lead process, while I joined the group around the cockpit table, waiting until Debbie and Angie re-joined us bearing food and drinks.

‘There’s a great deal to cover,’ I started, ‘and I don’t want to bombard you with the whole lot at once, so I’d like to go slowly and let you build up the picture. For now, I might just explain a bit about each of us and how we came to be together on the high seas like this.’

Hillary nodded, ‘That’s fine by me. Debbie is along, not just as my partner, but also as my legal advisor and confidant. She makes sure I don’t set myself up for a lawsuit .’

‘In that case, you’ve got plenty of work ahead of you on this one,’ I smiled. ‘I think we’re all going to need serious legal representation before this mess is sorted.’

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With the girls close by, I let Janice tell her story, up to the time she lobbed on my gangplank, then took over to very briefly outline my background. I saw Debbie take some notes from time to time, but Hillary took none, apparently relying on her brilliant eidetic memory.

We took a break in the narrative once we cleared the channel and were safely off the coast where the breeze started to lift and we could set sails. As had become usual, Zoe steered while I hoisted, sheeted and trimmed until Firebird was scudding along at 15 to 18 knots with the moderate swell just ahead of our starboard beam. The speed and motion proved too attractive for the twins so they decided to play and sunbake on the trampoline. Maybe in deference to our guests, they didn’t strip off completely, but just shed shorts and tops, scampering for’rard clad just in brief panties, already squealing with delight as the cool spray flicked up by the windward bow pelted them.

I noted Hillary and Debbie cast appreciative looks at them, before Debbie said sincerely to Janice, ‘Absolutely lovely girls. They’re a real credit to you and seem remarkably well-adjusted despite the recent events.’

Janice nodded her thanks, just grateful that they’d taken her earlier suggestion and removed themselves to allow for more involved discussions between the older people about the stolen files and the old mansion.

I engaged the autopilot before returning to the table.

‘We’ve been a bit circumspect with the girls around, as they’re not aware, at this stage, of the actual reason why their father is chasing them so hard, so please respect that when you talk to them or if they’re within hearing range. It was a big enough shock to Janice, Sandy and me at first.’

Hillary looked a little bit annoyed. ‘Okay. We’ll be good little girls and watch what we say. Now, what the hell is it that you’ve dragged us all this way and gone to this much trouble over?’

I took a deep breath. ‘Janice told you that before she left, she had the opportunity to copy Luke’s computer desktop and Documents folders?’

They nodded in synchronisation.

‘Well, I think the best way is for you to have a look at some of the files that were in that folder. They’re arranged in annual sub-folders, spanning about 10 years, with mostly JPEG photos but also some MP4 video. To save time for this preliminary look, and 167

since there are a lot of images, I suggest you skim through a few photos from each year, just to get a feel for what we have. In particular, we’d like you to see if you recognise any faces as you go. That point is very important, as it is why this is so big, but we can fill in the gaps later, and you’ll have your own copy to look at privately in depth and to take away when you go.’

They exchanged silent, meaningful looks as I ducked into the saloon and retrieved my personal laptop from under the nav station. The boat’s laptop sat on the desk, and was the one used for all boat business and held the library of books and movies.

They shifted into the shade and sat close as I selected the first year’s sub -folder for them. Debbie drove the scan and they moved quite quickly, pausing occasionally to point and nod, before moving on. Debbie stopped disturbingly often to jot down a name, but they scanned on in silence, only their deepening frowns revealing the inner turmoil they were feeling.

While they scanned and jotted, Janice sat and watched the endlessly entertaining view of the ocean slipping rapidly past with its heaving, ever-changing tableau of waveforms and I reclaimed the driver’s seat, pushing Jasper onto the other half, since he’d wisely chosen to remain dry in the cockpit instead of joining the twins jumping around under the continual spray off the bows.

Nearly forty minutes passed before Hillary muttered, ‘Enough!’ Debbie gratefully closed the folders and flipped the lid closed, returning the laptop to its electronic slumber, both of them sitting back with a sigh. Sandy went to the galley and started brewing teas all

‘round, and I raised my eyebrows at Hillary.

‘So? Is it worthy of your time?’

She shook her head, not in denial, but in dismay at the depths of depravity on display, although there was a hint of excitement in her voice.

‘We’ve seen some nasty stuff over the years, since paedophile stories are unfortunately quite common, but the scope of this – the time span and the adults we can identify so far, just beggars belief!’

She looked at me, ‘When Rob was trying to pique my interest, he used the term

‘government-toppling’. I love that and might borrow it if I may, because I believe it best describes what we are sitting on. I mean, we spotted a former deputy Prime Minister and two current front benchers, one from either side of the House . And as you said, that’s just a small sample of what and who’s in there. How bloody arrogant can these arseholes be? Didn’t they think that someday these photos might leak into the public domain?’

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She’d virtually repeated my words.

‘We did think it very stupid,’ I replied. ‘And I presume you recognised other faces?’

‘Oh, my goodness yes. Apart from the three Federal pollies, there are at least 15 high-profile persons known nationally, in business and in the Victorian Government, as well as a handful of celebrities who’d pay a fortune to suppress this. You’re sitting on the biggest piece of potential blackmail in Australian history. You could be the richest people in Australia if you went down that track.’

‘No thanks,’ I replied, ‘I just want them behind bars and all those kids in a safe, caring place. I’m glad you’ve found more than we did, but some faces you may not have recognised belong to very senior members of the ACP and the Victorian Police Force up at Assistant or Deputy Commissioner level!’

‘Oh shit, oh dear! That makes it much more difficult.’

She looked at Debbie, who replied, ‘Yeah. It’ll be much harder to prosecute those guys.

They'll have covered their tracks very well. Apart from these photos that is.’

Hillary replied, ‘True, but exposing them to public attention when the time is right should get around it, and that’s where I come in.’

We agreed before I asked Debbie the same question I’d asked Rob.

‘Based on how Janice has described how she acquired these files, do you see any problem with them being admissible in Court?’

She thought a few moments. ‘No. Not really. A chain of evidence has been established, thanks to your quick thinking, although Defence could argue they were personal and private files and can’t be admitted into evidence, but I’d counter by saying Janice was his legal wife at the time – the computer was in their shared home – and at the time, the room door was open to access by anybody in the house and the computer was up and running. She had the right to look at and copy those files if she so desired. Also, the fact that she hadn’t been specifically told not to go in the room or to use that computer adds to her right to view and/or copy stuff on it. ’

‘Great! It was something which had bothered me, since this is obviously the best proof of what’s been going on.’

She nodded. ‘Yep! Good call. But so far, I don’t see a problem in that regard. What did Rob say? You must have asked him.’

I smiled, ‘Essentially the same as you, although we did spend a lot of time t alking through where and how to proceed from here. The problem of conducting an investigation without setting off alarm bells has been bothering me a lot. ’

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Hillary responded. ‘Yes. We understand that, but there are other ways to verify things without asking direct questions that might raise red flags.’

She smiled, ‘Relax. This is my field of expertise and I’ve handled this type of investigation many times before. The trick, as you’ve said, is not to alert the subjects too soon. They must remain totally unaware a case is being built against them until it’s too late. Then we strike on several fronts at exactly the same time.’

I nodded and reminded her, ‘But don’t forget that there are an unknown number of these arseholes in the Ring and we don’t want any getting away, or hurting kids if we can help it.’

‘True,’ Debbie replied, ‘but usually we find that once several are in the bag, they’ll rat out the others very quickly, hoping for a deal with the Prosecution.’

‘Okay, that’s reasonable, but now you’ve mentioned striking on several fronts, you also need to know about the parallel investigations that we’ve already started, one of which has produced possible proof which endangers the girls even more.’

They both raised eyebrows. So I told of Sandy’s boss in the Queensland Police and more importantly, the contact with Annette in the ACP, her legitimate investigations, the phone tapping and email interception and what she’d discovered in an email to Luke.

‘So, not only does Luke want to salvage some pride in getting his family back under his thumb, he stands to lose a great deal of money if the sale of his virgin daughters can’t go through because he can’t find them.’

Hillary and Debbie shook their heads in disbelief.

‘We’re 100% convinced it’s the only thing that makes sense of the way Luke has been pouring so much money and resources into this search.’

After thinking further, they finally agreed my theory and the supporting email connected a few scattered dots and explained many things.

We also told of Rob’s possible encounter with a tail after he arrived in Wynyard.

‘They’re probably closing in on us right now,’ I concluded, ‘which is why we left town so quickly. I hope you weren’t seen, although we’ve visited the port twice now and chatted with the locals, so there’s plenty of people who’ve seen us. It’s a bit of a worry, but it was the quickest way to get Rob and yourselves up-to-date which we considered worth the risk.’

Hillary agreed, ‘Yes. Sounds reasonable. Time appears to be getting tight, especially if the hunters are close. Really, your best option is what you’ve been doing – stock up and stay in remote areas, moving every few days or so.’

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I smiled, ‘Yeah. That’s what I figured and we’ll carry on after we drop you off.’

Hillary looked wistful. ‘If I didn’t need to be in contact with the outside world so much, and co-ordinating the investigation through Debbie’s office, I’d come with you, but we’ll make the most of these few days to get the full story, then I’ll go do some careful digging.’

A devilish grin lit up her face, ‘However, to properly answer one of your earlier questions, this is shaping up to be the biggest story I’ve ever been exposed to, so thanks for the opportunity.’

I retrieved the sealed envelope with the copy of the hard drive and passed it over to Hillary.

‘Don’t forget you’ll need to look at all the real estate stuff on the desktop section as well.

That’s where the records of the purchase, renovation, income and upkeep of the mansion are. That’ll probably be a separate line of investigation for you.’

‘I won’t forget,’ she promised. ‘We’ve got a huge amount of ground to cover and will need some help, but that’s where Debbie’s staff will be invaluable. We trust them implicitly. Debbie has a real estate section, well, one solicitor and a paralegal who normally look after divorce settlements, so this will be easy pickings for them.’

I got the feeling that having Debbie and her resources on board was almost as good as having Hillary herself and started to feel a lot more comfortable about how things were unfolding.

The girls came back aft for lunch and had a quick shower off on the stern platform, so we stopped discussions at that point, to give Hillary and Debbie time to assimilate what they’d learned and think of questions they needed to ask. They also needed time to relax and enjoy what was proving to be a new and exciting experience for both.

Debbie showed the most interest in the nuts and bolts of running the boat and I was soon deeply involved in discussion and demonstrations of how stuff worked, much to the amusement of the rest of the crew. A trip up to the bows turned out to be a real thrill for her and it was lovely to see her professional reserve melt away with the showers of spray from the dip and lift of the bows. Before she got her shore-going clothes too wet, I suggested that she change and try going for’rard again.

She took that suggestion with enthusiasm and even talked Hillary into changing into a fairly staid one-piece swimsuit, although Debbie herself shaped up very nicely in a small blue bikini. The pair of them proceeded to have a ball, screaming with laughter as they alternated in bouncing around on the trampoline, perching on one of the two bow 171

seats and hanging on as they were occasionally dipped into green water, or just pelted with spray.

Having a pod of dolphins suddenly appear was icing on the cake as the beautiful mammals cavorted around the bows, looking up at the humans with their ever -laughing faces. Both ladies were quite exhausted after twenty minutes of this, so when the dolphins gave a final farewell flick of their tails and disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived, they came aft.

I showed our two dripping guests where the stern shower was and how it worked.

Angie had already cautioned them on the water-conservation procedure, so they didn’t take long, greatly appreciating the hot water supply as the breeze was chilling. Zoe had kicked me off the wheel, so Angie was waiting for them with thick towels to dry off and perching in the cockpit out of the wind soon warmed them up.

‘Absolutely bloody fantastic!’ Hillary enthused.

‘Yeah, amazing,’ added Debbie, a grin from ear to ear. ‘That’s the most fun I’ve had since I was a kid!’

Hillary grinned and kicked her in the shin.

‘Oh, this was fun-type fun, sweetness, not the same as our fun.’

It was such a departure from their normal, professional manner that it was good to be able to laugh with them, and see two people who dealt with all manner of awfulness every day, being able to let down their professional masks for a while and enjoy such a simple pleasure.

I plotted a course for Zoe to follow, which would take us to a small bay on the east side of Hunter Island, called Shepherds Bay. On the maps, it was the northernmost sandy beach on the east side of the island, very protected from almost any wind, and appeared to be just like our beautiful bay on Three Hummock Island, only smaller. But being further west, would take maybe another hour of sailing. Not that I thought anyone would mind the extra time scampering along as smoothly and quickly as we were.

In this manner, the afternoon passed very pleasantly with an informative conversation with the incredibly sharp minds of Hillary and Debbie. Inevitably, they started asking questions of all of us, and Debbie’s notebook was always at her elbow. This was the process I’d hoped would naturally evolve, without any real pressure on anybody, just Hillary and Debbie getting the facts.

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It was great sailing, although I cautioned Zoe she needed to bend our straight line a little so we stayed well clear of Stanley. We were due to pass the south tip of Three Hummock Island by 15:00, and should be anchored in Shepherds Bay by 15:30, according to the smart-arsed chart plotter.

Marvellous what modern technology can do!

Zoe steered us safely to where we could see a gleaming, white strip of sand showing clearly against the dark vegetation of the surrounding coastline. Hunter Island was considerably rockier than Three Hummock Island, with only a few protected sandy beaches this side of the island. The west side was totally exposed to the relentless procession of swells and weather systems marching impassively west to east around the southern part of the globe, with virtually no land to impede their progress since South America.

Fifteen minutes later, we rounded up into the northerly breeze, diminished slightly by the landmass. I furled the headsails first, then let the main shiver and flap, which applied a gentle braking force until we stopped. Then as we began to move rearwards, I dropped the anchor and let out a safe amount of chain. The flapping main applied enough force to dig the anchor in, so once we were stopped, I could lower the main into its stowage place in the boom.

Zoe gave me a little clap.

‘That was super-neat, Harry. I’ve watched you sail off from anchor without using the engines, but that’s the first time you’ve sailed in and anchored without them.’

I smiled at her enthusiasm. ‘The trick is to get rid of the headsails early, to slow down, then when you come up into the wind, the flapping main puts on the brakes and the boat will slow quite quickly.’

She nodded understanding. ‘Can I try it sometime, if we have an easy approach?’

‘No worries, I’ll just talk you through it. You’ll do it easy.’

Now we were secure, I joined the others in looking around our new home. It was a pretty little bay with a curving white sandy beach, only about 600 meters long, with a low, rocky headland curling protectively around to the north. A pair of rocky headlands, separated by a very small beach, marked the other end of the bay.

With the north wind blowing, we were tucked in close to the north end of the beach, just 200 metres from the small headland over a clean, sandy bottom. The stiff breeze that had brought us here in such fine style was barely enough to ruffle the crystal-clear water. It also carried a medley of scents from the various bushes making up the 173

scrubby cover and reminded me of our old anchorage, but was a lot more secure in virtually every wind direction.

‘Just fabulous,’ breathed Hillary. ‘To borrow a classic old movie saying, ‘you can feel the serenity’!’

‘Amen to that,’ added Debbie. ‘I didn’t know such beautiful places existed, and it’s only just across from Melbourne.’

As we were tucked in close to shore, with the first rocks leading to the headland not far away, I decided to drop the stern anchor and walk it out a way to keep us securely in position. When I told Zoe, she dug out the blow-up plastic float we had used previously, inflated it and passed it down to me to rest the anchor and some chain on. Even though the stern anchor was alloy, the chain was heavy and piling a bunch of it on the float made the fifty-metre swim much easier. I tipped the chain over first and then dropped the anchor clear of the links. I signalled to Zoe to haul in some slack and watched to make sure the sharp tip dug in cleanly once she’d tied the anchor line off.

Seeing me paddling around the boat in my jocks, inspecting things from the waterl ine prompted the rest of the crew to get wet. Hillary and Debbie were still in swimming gear from their earlier play on the foredeck, but Janice and the girls just dropped their shorts and tops and jumped in wearing panties only. Naturally Jasper wasn’t about to let a chance go by, so he leapt in off the top of the cockpit roof with a massive splash, much to the delight of our newest visitors.

The girls showed Hillary and Debbie how he’d tow them around by hanging onto his tail and Jasper graciously let the visitors have a turn, adding to their ongoing enchantment with my beautiful, mystical cat.

CHAPTER 32...Canberra...Annette De Silva...Friday evening – 19:00

In a small, but neat villa in one of Canberra’s leafy inner suburbs, a plain-Jane phone sitting on the kitchen bench warbled happily.

‘Ah, fuck it,’ was the weary curse directed toward the sound, until the curser saw the origin of the sound. Then her interest quickened.

‘Hello.’

‘…Oh, yes Robert. I was told to expect your call. How are things with our friends?’

‘…Excellent... You do move quickly.’

‘…Well, I suppose I can understand that.’

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‘…That good? Or bad, as the case may be. I suppose it depends on which side of the line you stand. Ha-ha...’

‘…Yeah, sorry. No, I’m not busy tomorrow.’

‘…A pleasant drive in the countryside? How romantic!’

‘…Oh. No, I suppose not. Maybe, I’ll just pretend. I’ve had lots of practice at that.’

‘…Okay. I’ll be serious – I can be sometimes. What you do is drive into Yass from the Canberra side, stay on the main street and when you get to the traffic lights, there’s a pub on your left which serves pretty good pub-grub and we can talk without being disturbed. If you see my only indulgence, a little black Mercedes Benz AMG SLK55

parked out front, that’ll mean there’ll be a dark-haired old tart in the public bar, wearing a red shirt and with a schooner of beer in front of her.

Just another thought, if you think you’ve been followed, don’t acknowledge me or stop in the bar, but walk through to the beer-garden and I’ll have one of the staff come out to show you to a private room.’

‘…What do you mean, which traffic lights? Get a grip Robert – this is Yass, not poncy bloody Melbourne. There’s only one set of lights in the whole fucking main street which is very long and full of roundabouts, so I don’t think even a big shot Melbourne barrister like you could miss it!’

‘…Yeah, okay. I’m sorry. It’s been a total shit of a week and I’ve been looking forward to a bit of relaxation and unwinding, but this’ll have to do for now. At least I’ll get out of town for a while.’

‘…Yeah, that’ll be good. Black shirt, black pants. Jeeze Louise, you’ll look like Johnny-fuckin’-Cash on an off day.’

‘…Sorry, sorry! I’m doing it again. But why not wear a green polo shirt? Even if it has one of those poofy crocodile-thingies trying to bite your left tit, you won’t stand out quite as much as the all-black ensemble.’

‘…No? Well, heaven forbid that I should try to tell a man how to dress. What the hell would I know?’

‘…You will? Outstanding! You just scored some brownie points.’

‘…Oh, I know you don’t care about that. It was actually a bit of a joke, Robert. You sound like you really need to unwind big time. Your sense of humour is non-existent.’

‘…Do I? Well, if you must know, I’ve already had two glasses of red and was about to go for another refill.’

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‘…Yeah. It’s a Merlot, McG something or another. Bloody good drop for a cheapie. I’m doing my favourite job – the bloody ironing, and I can’t drive the fool thing straight if I’m not half-pissed.’

‘…Yes, of course I’ll be sober tomorrow. Who the hell are you, the fun police? Give it a rest!’

‘…No. Of course not, I already told you I’ve only had two glasses so far.’

‘…Yes, no problem. I can be there by 12:00 easy. By the way, what’s all that noise in the background? It’s hard to hear you.’

‘…Oh, really? A bar? Fuckin’ amazing! I really can’t imagine an uptight citizen such as you in a place of debauchery where alcohol is freely available. Anyway, I’ll see you in Yass. Goodnight Robert.’

CHAPTER 33... Firebird... Hunter Is/Wynyard...Friday pm/Saturday am We’d verbally covered a great deal of ground since Hillary and Debbie joined us on Wednesday, and by Friday afternoon, Hillary finally indicated that she probably had enough info for the moment. She and Debbie had done a lot of talking together and were anxious to get back and start setting things in motion.

They’d fitted into the boat lifestyle very well and had seemed to really relax between talk sessions. There were lots of beach walks and although the bay was smaller than our last abode, it was just as beautiful. Jasper loved the extra company and always came with us. The girls kept their bikini pants on, which helped maintain a slight sense of decorum, but otherwise went topless most times.

Sandy slept in the single bunk in my dressing room which Jasper normally used.

Thursday night, due to everyone relaxing more, all the adults got a bit pissy on NQ teas, to the amusement of the girls. Hillary and Debbie kept telling hilarious stories about their exploits before we all staggered to our respective beds. There were lots of giggles from the left rear cabin and just as many from the right forward one as well, especially when Sandy wandered in to have a chat. She’d forgotten to dress for the occasion which was fine by me and apparently by Janice as well.

She ended up climbing into bed with us, which was a lot less distracting for me than to have her sitting naked and cross-legged at the foot of the bed as on previous occasions. I was interested to see that she climbed in beside Janice, so we talked and 176

laughed at silly things for a while, before I decided I was tired, then turned my bed light off and left them to it.

Although a big bed, it was still cosy with three adults, even though Janice was petite, but I slept well, only coming half-awake a couple of times when I was jostled. Each time I realised Sandy was still present and the ladies were enjoying each other’s company.

They were both asleep when I awoke as usual at 06:00, so I left them undisturbed, dressed and retired to the galley for my morning cuppa, where I was joined by Hillary who needed some reviving with a strong coffee.

She gave me a cheeky grin. ‘Thanks to those NQ teas, I guess we all played up a bit last night.’

I grinned back, ‘Yep. A bit of an unwind occasionally does a power of good.’

‘Here, here. But on a more serious note, Harry, you’ll have to keep an even lower profile than before, once we start poking around. The usual effect of one of our investigations is that no matter how careful we are, slimy things crawl out from under rocks, which will turn up the pressure on the search for the girls and Janice. ’

I nodded, ‘Yeah. You’re right. We have become a little bit slack in that regard at times, but after we drop you off, we’ll come back out here and hole up. I think we’re good for food and supplies for a while, but if necessary, we’ll run down to Strahan or even just across to Stanley to top up the pantry.’

Janice and Sandy put in an appearance soon after, looking bleary-eyed but happy, and after the usual round of kisses and hugs they hit the galley. The girls weren’t far behind, so in the bustle of activity around the galley, Janice gave me another ki ss and whispered in my ear, ‘You were a very good boy last night.’

I pulled back and grinned at her, ‘Really? I didn’t do anything.’

‘That’s what I mean. You just rolled over and went to sleep.’

She wouldn’t elaborate, so I mentally shrugged and let it slide, happy they were happy and that she was happy with me.

The only flight Hillary and Debbie could get seats on for Saturday was the 10:15

departure, so Debbie booked them using the satellite internet. Rather than sail back to Wynyard that afternoon and risk the extra attention our floating harem would attract, I decided to make a very early start on Saturday morning. The wind forecast was for strong northerlies, with another cold front bringing a southerly change on Sunday.

The crew didn’t seem to mind the prospect of a 03:00 wake up call, with a 04:00

departure, so the plan was locked in.

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Next morning, things went smoothly as I had made most of the preparations the evening before, and to my relief, the north wind had started blowing in the afternoon.

Everyone was up at 03:00, although I’d told our guests they could stay in bed until normal get up time if they wanted, but they declined, wanting the share the full Firebird experience.

It was well worth their while, as it turned out, since a full moon was shining brightly, turning the choppy sea into a heaving, metallic-silver landscape that Firebird charged across at the very decent speed of 18 to 20 knots, with the occasional higher burst. I had to reduce sail a little, but it just made the boat sit flatter and relieved some pressure on the bows, as the wind was over our port rear quarter.

The clouds of flying spray tossed up as the bows dug into the swells, glittered in the moonlight like millions of diamonds cast aloft by the sea gods lighting our way, lending an air of ethereal beauty to the scene. The ladies were totally enchanted with the sight and watched in silence for a long time.

Debbie finally turned to me with a smile of utter delight on her face. ‘Harry, this sail alone makes everything worthwhile. It’s incredible! No wonder you love this life. Will you invite us to come out again? Please?’

I smiled back, delighted with her, ‘Yeah. It’s times like this that makes the memories of uncomfortable times fade away, but you’re very welcome to come visit whenever and however long you want.’

She nodded thanks and understanding and returned her attention to the endlessly charming, changing vista in front of us.

Dawn at sea with a clear sky is always a magical time, but this morning was special as light slowly pushed the cloak of darkness back, while some low cloud on the east horizon caused faint orange bars of the still-hidden sun to slowly grow more distinct and spread like the fingers of a giant hand, stretching for, but never quite reaching the apex of the sky. I’d warned the ladies to look for the green flash which is occasionally seen just as the upper rim of the sun breeches the horizon line, but on this occasion, it didn’t happen.

Once daylight had lit our heaving, wet world, and the celestial light show faded for another twenty-four hours, there was a general call for food, and Angie volunteered to make everybody a decent, hot breakfast. Debbie cheerfully assisted, seeming to really enjoy getting involved as part of the crew, while Hillary and I quietly re-hashed a few of the more important points of our discussions of the last few days. I suggested they buy 178

a couple of pre-paid mobiles for contact with us and change them every week or so.

They had both the boat’s mobile and SatPhone numbers, plus there was always email via the satellite internet.

The rest of the run was uneventful, and we anchored in our usual spot by 09:00. Zoe launched the dinghy while I finished securing the boat, and without delay, goodbyes were said. Angie and Zoe asked if they could come as well to visit the chemist and newsagent, so after a quick consult with Janice and Sandy, we all jammed into the dinghy and headed ashore.

Ernie’s old Holden was in its usual spot and we were lucky to avoid tripping across Mavis or any hotel staff who might ask awkward questions. The main street was slowly coming awake for the Saturday morning rush as we passed through, and I snagged a park quite close to the terminal. I asked the girls to stay with the car while I saw our visitors checked in safely, and with that done, was soon back at the car.

There was some sort of confrontation happening out the front of the terminal when I came out, and I had to work my way around a small crowd who were jeering and booing a skinny, scruffy-looking fellow with long greasy hair who was having a very one-sided shouting match with a tow-truck driver and two security guards. It seemed he was objecting to having his illegally parked car being hooked up to a tow-truck. Since the two vehicles were stuffing up the access for arriving and departing passengers with their baggage, the idiot scored zero sympathy from anybody. It would have been funny to watch if I hadn’t been in a hurry, so I left them to it.

Back down the main street, the girls reminded me about the chemist and the newsagent, so when I spotted a chemist next to the big supermarket, I got lucky and scored a park just across the road from it. The girls knew the newsagent was just a bit further down the street opposite the Post Office, so I said I’d stay where I was. Janice had given them some cash, so they happily darted over the road to do their stuff.

While watching the parade of Saturday morning shoppers, I noticed a cafe not far up the street and suddenly fancied a milk shake, so I locked the car and wandered back.

The café was spotless and the owner was a nice old Greek bloke . We had a good old chat for a few minutes while he built the drink with pride and a raw egg, a different addition which he said made his shakes taste the best in Tasmania.

I was game to try anything once, and had to agree the taste was great. After I’d been brought up-to-date on the local gossip, but before he got started on the doings of his 179

extensive family, I tactfully made my escape. We parted the best of friends and I strolled back down to the car. Traffic was quite heavy for a small town, even for Saturday morning, so I leaned back against the brick wall surrounding the small park to enjoy my shake and watch the rest of civilisation bustling about. It wasn’t long before a brief screech of tyres, a very loud bang and the musical tinkling of broken glass, announced that there were times when civilisation shouldn't bustle quite so much.

Moments later, a growing chorus of angry shouts just down the street added to the excitement, so I wandered down to see what the fuss was about.

CHAPTER 34...Jimmy...Wynyard Airport...Saturday am – 10:00

As the port propeller of the Saab 360 whined to a stop, the door with its set of folding steps popped open, the Flight Attendant holding on carefully so she didn’t follow them down as they went through their complicated unfolding routine. The First Officer, who looked too young to have left his mother, made an appearance, adjusting his new and still very shiny flight-crew cap to what he thought of as a jaunty angle. Under the ego-deflating gaze of the un-impressed Flight Attendant, he trotted down the steps to secure the prop blades so they didn’t start turning again in the stiff, gusting breeze. It was the same breeze which had made his attempt at a smooth landing such a cockup and the captain’s total lack of comment was an even worse condemnation of his arrival.

Despite his attempt to look like the highly-experienced, professional aviator he wasn’t, the first passenger to emerge, a burly construction worker, shot him down in flames by commenting loudly, ‘Back to flight school for you, sonny. That was a real tooth-rattler!’

The First gritted his teeth and gave a twisted grimace that had to pass for a smile, mortified to hear a badly-stifled giggle from the pretty Flight Attendant.

The next passenger down the steps was a large, overweight man of medium height, the small amount of hair he had left arranged in a dopey-looking comb-over which was gleefully attacked by the gusty breeze. His beady little eyes were set too close together and he leaked perspiration from every pore. To the disgust of everyone within range, his rancid sweat easily overcame the anti-stink he’d slathered on earlier. Suddenly, every fly in the airport had a new best friend.

‘Better check the landing gear after that one,’ he sneered at the hapless First. ‘It sounded like you’ve broken something. It’s a friggin’ wonder people fly at all with drivers like you trying to kill ‘em!’

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‘Yes, sir. Have a good day and thanks for flying with King Airways.’

‘Bloody well wouldn’t if I didn’t have to,’ the man grumped as he stomped off to the terminal, unaware that the ten strands of his comb-over were standing up like stalks of grass trying to take off. His eyes were already scanning the Arrivals area for the expected familiar face. As he pushed through the doors, he was greeted by a short, skinny man with tangled, greasy hair hanging over his long narrow face, an especially pointy nose giving him the look of a malnourished ferret. To round out his visual shortcomings, his left eye had the disconcerting habit of peering in any direction other than where the right one was pointing.

‘Gidday Jimmy,’ he announced in an irritating, high-pitched, whiny voice. ‘Good to see ya mate. I’ve got the car just outside the door, all ready to go. Jeeze, I’m glad you came. I reckon we might be onto something here.’

‘Yeah. Gidday Tony. I gotta get my bag first, though. Then you can tell me all about it.’

‘Oh. Yeah. I think bag pickup is right over there.’

Ten minutes later, they pushed through the doors to the outside, to see a white Toyota Corolla with a tow-truck backing up to it, under the direction of two large, pissed-off security guys.

‘Wadda youse think ya doin’?’ Tony squeaked. ‘That’s my car!’

‘Is it now, mate?’ the nearest guard sneered, after giving him a quick once-over. ‘In that case, you can have the pleasure of collecting it from the impound area in about two hours’ time. It’s not far from here. You can probably walk if you want to save your money to pay the fines and charges.’

Jimmy stood impassively, being unusually patient, while Tony spluttered, ranted and nearly got his hand crushed trying to stop the tow-truck operator sliding the lift bars under the front of the Corolla.

‘Aw, c’mon mate,’ he whined to the towie, a man as big as both Security guards together, and looking three times as tough, ‘give us a break. Me boss is going to be really pissed about this!’

The towie looked up for a moment, pointed a finger the size of a sausage roll at a sign behind Tony and declared in a calm, deep voice, ‘Maybe you should have thought of that before you parked your heap-of-shit in this no-parking, tow-away zone, blocking everybody else from doing the right thing. Mate!’

Tony glanced over his shoulder at the incriminating sign and shrugged, ‘Yeah, but, you know.....’

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‘Don’t, ‘yeah-but me’, sport, ‘cause I don’t give a shit. Complain to Airport Management, they love hearing from arse-holes like you.’

He quickly finished securing the Corolla, then with a practiced hand, filled out a form, tore off the top sheet and handed it to Tony, who stood, narrow shoulders slumped, misery all over his face.

‘There you go, sport. The impound depot is in town, address on the bottom of the form.

The vehicle will be available after 14:00 today, and you can pay the fine and costs there, or you can deal directly with the rental car company who own the car. They’ll love to see you too! $150 fine plus the $300 towing fee.’

Tony took the sheet of paper, glanced at it and gave the towie the one -finger salute.

The towie and the security guys laughed, saluted him back, then he climbed into his truck and drove off, the little Corolla trailing obediently behind.

Jimmy looked at a very disconsolate Tony. ‘You really know how to fuck things up, don’t you? Even when you were tailing that dude, you had to take a piss facing away from the road. Why couldn’t you keep your eye on the traffic?’

Tony looked down and scuffed his shoe on the footpath, ‘Cause I can’t go if people are looking at me. That’s why.’

Jimmy took a deep breath, visibly holding himself back.

‘Oh, I see. I suppose in a public toilet, you can’t use the urinals in case somebody sees your almost non-existent dick and cracks up laughing?’

Tony looked up with a pleading expression, ‘Yes. That’s right. It’s a phoebe or something. I looked it up one time. Jeeze, I’m glad you understand, Jimmy.’

In a soft voice, Jimmy lowered his face so their noses were almost touching and quietly said, ‘I don’t give a flying fuck if it’s a phoebe or a phobia. You’re an idiot and shouldn’t be allowed out in public unless you’re on a leash. Now get inside and get another car.

Now! Before I rip your bloody arm off and stuff it up your smelly little arse! ’

To make sure there were no more fuckups, he followed a rather frightened and subdued Tony back inside. Watching while he alternately argued with, and was barked back at by the hard-faced lady behind the counter, Jimmy finally turned away to check out any good-looking females waiting for the outbound flight, and almost bumped into a small group of three people – two women and a man, who were talking intently and not really watching where they were going. Exercising a degree of politeness he really didn’t know he had, he stepped aside, although his attention was immediately caught by the shorter woman’s brilliant red hair that flowed in shimmering waves down past 182

her shoulders. Her companion was a tall, almost regal-looking blonde with great tits and tight jeans. The guy with them was still talking softly, but intently and although they meant nothing to him, he automatically took in the guy’s instantly forgettable face and appearance, which in stained shorts, T-shirt and thongs rated super-casual, even by Jimmy’s standards.

Commented [JEN1]: Timeline incorrect - Harry had

already left the building before Jimmy and Tony went

As they moved away toward the boarding gate, Jimmy lustfully watched the ladies’ very back inside to get another car.

shapely bums and legs, while he continued to wait for Tony to finish getting reamed and bored by the rental car clerk. Then, as the final boarding call was broadcast, the ladies separated from the guy with kisses and hugs and hustled through the gate .

Commented [JEN2]:

Jimmy took a final wistful look at their rear view, then turned to see Tony extract Commented [JEN3]: As above...

himself from under a continuing torrent of abuse, clutching a sheaf of papers and a set of keys.

‘Are we right to go now?’ enquired Jimmy politely.

‘Yes, Jimmy. Good to go, but bloody hell, they know how to charge in this place. They wanted me to go and retrieve the car myself, but I said we were in a hurry.

Then that Nazi bitch with the smart mouth really paid me out and charged an extra $200 for them to retrieve it! And that was on top of the fines, tow charge and the cost of the new car. So I’ve had to fork out $650 plus the charges for the new car . Can I claim it back from expenses? What’d you reckon, Jimmy? I mean, my card’s nearly empty.’

Jimmy bent down again, once again generously giving Tony the full benefit of his lack of dental hygiene, ‘I think that if you don't shut the fuck up, I’ll tear you a new arse-hole.

I also think that if you tried to claim money back from the Boss for cocking things up, he might just rip your stupid bloody head off and piss down the hole.’

‘Oh! Well – you don’t have to carry on about it. I mean, we all make mistakes. Anyway, the car’s over this way.’

Five minutes later, they were seated in yet another Toyota Corolla, engine running and air-con on.

‘Now, you little turd-burger. What’s the big news you’ve dragged me down here for?’

‘What? Oh, yeah. Well, after I lost the old geezer the other day, I thought I should hang around, so I checked into a local motel and had a bit of a wander around town. Later that night, I was down by the harbour having a beer in some old pub, when I thought I saw the old bloke we’re chasing come through the back door and duck upstairs. I asked the barmaid who they had staying there, but she said no one was. They had rooms to rent, if I wanted one, but there weren’t no guests right then.

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When I asked again about the bloke I saw, she said maybe I’d seen her brother who lives upstairs. I suppose it could’ve been someone else, but it sure looked like the guy in the photo you gave me.’

Jimmy looked at his sidekick with distaste.

‘When was this?’

‘Umm... four nights ago... Tuesday, it musta been. I mean – I only saw him for a couple of seconds when he walked past the doorway and up the stairs, but it looked like him to me.’

Jimmy thought for a few moments, the refrigerated air helping to dry up some of the reeking sweat that’d soaked his clothing, but did nothing to improve the smell. ‘Okay.

Drive around town and let me have a look. Maybe swing past the pub where you reckon you saw him.’

‘Okay, Jimmy.’

They cruised slowly down the main street, busy with Saturday morning shoppers, when Tony made a strangled sound, swerved violently left toward a narrow space just past the pedestrian crossing, nearly hitting some old chook in the process, then jammed the brakes on so hard the motor stalled and Jimmy was pitched hard forward against his seat-belt.

‘Jesus! What the fuck are you doing now, you bloody goose!’ he roared, rubbing his left shoulder which had thumped hard into the door pillar.

‘Jimmy look!’ Tony spluttered, fumbling to release his seatbelt. ‘There they are!’

‘Where what are, for fuck’s sake?

‘The girls! The boss’s girls are right there, just up ahead past the Real Estate place.

They came out of that newsagent. I’m sure it’s them. Come on, we can grab ‘em right now.’

His last few words were lost in the sound of screeching tyres and a deafening bang close behind them. Tony’s panic swerve and abrupt stop had caused a young female L-plater to rear-end the Holden ute which had been forced to lock its brakes to avoid running into the back of the Corolla which Tony had left sticking out half across the traffic lane. The resultant horrific bang, crash and tinkles from the shower of shattered glass and plastic distracted Jimmy who didn’t know where to look.

But Tony, in a rare display of focus, leapt out of the car and took off across the road like a man possessed, oblivious to other traffic or the chaos he’d caused behind him.

Not even an escalating chorus of angry bellows directed in his direction was able to deflect his unerring course toward his two unsuspecting targets. The girls were 184

standing on the footpath outside the newsagents, clutching the latest editions of Cleo and Cosmopolitan magazines, while they looked toward the source of the crash and associated shouting. That distraction also made them initially overlook the scrawny, scruffy little man weaving rapidly through the stalled traffic, his unwavering gaze on them.

In the meantime, Jimmy had finally extracted himself clear of the octopus-like embrace of his locked-up seat belt, and was heading across the road after Tony. He desperate ly wanted to stop the stupid little turd from making an even bigger scene, right in the middle of the main street on Saturday morning. A bunch of angry Taswegians, believing the two idiots were running away from the chaos they’d caused, were intent on revenge and rapidly bearing down behind him.

CHAPTER 35...Wynyard...Angie & Zoe...Saturday morning The girls had bought what they needed at the chemist and wandered down to the newsagent, Zoe swinging a really neat, woven-hemp carry-bag. It was a bit weighty with a large bottle of nice-smelling shampoo and another of conditioner. There was also a large container of body wash they both liked, as well as tampon supplies and more sunscreen. As much as they loved the boat, the sailing and the beautiful islands, there were times they craved the company of others, so the laid-back rush of Wynyard on a Saturday morning was great, and they were thoroughly enjoying their brief return to their normal world. At the newsagent, they grabbed a copy of each of the new teen magazines, plus a good selection of newspapers for the oldies. After paying, they walked outside, while Zoe stowed the magazines and papers carefully in the bag.

Because her attention was on the bag, the first warning she had of something wrong, was when Angie said, ‘What the fuck...?’

She looked up to see a weird little guy, long greasy hair flapping around his face, dodging around horn-blowing cars, charging straight at them, his mouth twisted in a feral snarl and a chant of what sounded like, ‘Now we’ve got you, now we’ve got you...’

spilling from his foam-flecked mouth. There was a much bigger guy lumbering awkwardly along not far behind the first one, yelling abuse at him, while several other guys behind him were quickly catching up, yelling abuse at the two in front.

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For Angie, Sandy’s training kicked in as the little guy ran up to Zoe and grabbed her arm. Hardly pausing to consider, she swung back her right leg and delivered a resounding snap kick straight to the outside of his left knee, which immediately bent much further inwards than nature ever intended. With a howl of agony, he collapsed onto the footpath, his filthy long, ragged fingernails raking down Zoe’s arm and drawing several streaks of fresh blood. Seeing the damage done to her sister, Angie drew back and delivered another very hard kick straight into his stomach, which doubled him up in further agony.

Stunned shoppers, already distracted by the noise of the car crash, gave the trio a wide berth, opening the way for the large man to charge in, this time grabbing for Angie who was still off-balance from the second kick. Unfortunately, he hadn’t reckoned on Zoe’s reflexes, as despite the pain of the deep gouges down her arm, she spun a 360º circle, her right arm extended like a discus thrower, and caught the big man right across the side of his fat, meaty face with the heavy bag. He gave a howl of pain and rage as the collection of bottles inside the bag split his cheek open from eye to chin and relocated his jaw, now in several pieces, to the far side of his face, painfully tearing tendons and muscles in the process.

It wasn’t a look that improved his appearance and certainly made speech impossible, although a series of incoherent gurgling sounds suggested he had something to say.

Angie tossed a quick grin and a muttered, ‘Great shot, sis,’ at Zoe, before looking around to see Harry sprinting through the traffic, incongruously carrying a milk -shake container in his hand. ‘Come on,’ she said, grabbing Zoe’s hand, ignoring the dripping blood, ‘here’s Harry. I think we’d better nick off quick-time.’

After a hard, parting kick to the groin of each man, they dodged away from their assailants and met Harry in mid-street, just as several irate locals from the damaged cars arrived, and started laying into the two clowns who’d run away from the damage they’d caused.

‘Good on ya, girls,’ one of the bigger drivers called, ‘we’ll sort out these arseholes now!’

With the situation now sufficiently muddled to make what happened a complete mystery, the girls quietly turned a bewildered Harry around and calmly crossed the street. They went past an empty Corolla slewed sideways across the traffic lane, with a Holden ute two centimetres away from its bumper, a small car firmly mated to its rear end, then past the L-plater crying her eyes out, sitting in the gutter.

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Several locals were comforting the girl, while her father had joined the group still applying a severe ‘attitude adjustment’ to the idiots who run from the chaos they’d caused in the first place. While clouds of steam continued to billow from the buckled bonnet of her Hyundai Excel, a slippery stream of bilious-green coolant spread across both lanes.

By the time the police arrived, the girls had convinced Harry to turn Ernie’s old Holden around, and make an orderly escape back toward the airport. Back in the main street, confusion reigned supreme with a mass of conflicting stories. The coppers were told the Corolla driver, obviously on drugs, had gone nuts, stopped in the middle of the road, causing the accident between the ute and the L-plater, then tried to attack two girls on the opposite footpath. The locals, who assumed both men were dangerous and were trying to run away from the smash scene, subsequently did their civic duty and made sure they didn’t escape again. Their injuries were put down to the abrupt stop of their car, and the chase across the road where in their haste, they tripped over a rubbish bin and fell badly. The list of serious injuries tallied up by the ambos when they arrived ten minutes later, was enough to make them shake their heads and tell the police that the patients had to be transported to Burnie Hospital immediately and requested a high-speed police escort.

CHAPTER 36...Robert Jameson...Canberra – Yass...Saturday Once he was settled in his business-class seat, Robert mentally reviewed the weird and somewhat unsettling conversation he’d had with Annette the previous night.

At first, he’d thought that her ball-busting attitude was because she was drunk, but she’d really paid him out big time on just two glasses of red! He was prepared to forgive her though, since her job obviously created a lot of stress, but he really hoped she was easier to get on with face-to-face. She certainly sounded interesting, with a deep, husky voice that sent a shiver down his spine. Admittedly, he should have given her more notice of the meeting, but he was very keen to show her the files and pass over her copy, as well as hopefully stay a step ahead of the crew chasing him.

Nevertheless, he wore jeans and a green polo shirt, sans crocodile, just to placate her weird dress code sensitivity.

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From a prosecution point of view, he was pinning a lot of hope on Annette and her small team to do most, if not all of the identification of the adults in the pictures and video. Apparently, the ACP had some of the best equipment in Australia to get that nasty task done quickly and with a high degree of accuracy.

After landing in Canberra he drifted aimlessly around the terminal for a while, checking for any watchers, but couldn’t see anybody acting oddly, like hiding behind an upside-down newspaper, so he wandered over to the rental car area and booked a white Kia Rio for four days. His idea was that if someone did get this far along his trail, they might think he was getting a head start on the business week and wouldn’t expect him to disappear into the countryside.

Finally, fairly confident he was tail-free, he located the car and consulted the GPS unit to find the best way out of town to the north. Of the two options offered on the device, he went through the suburbs as an extra precaution against surveillance and set off cautiously, unfamiliar with Canberra’s curving street layout and seemingly endless road works. He also took the additional precaution of ducking down the odd side street at random to further confuse any tail, relying on the GPS to put him back on the path to Yass, which it did, although with an annoying series of 'Recalculating' or 'Make a U-turn' commands.

Despite the crowded Saturday morning roads, he was soon on the Barton Highway headed north, pleased that he’d managed to avoid the attention of the ever-present speed cameras, cunningly tucked behind trees and bushes. The little car hummed along very nicely and he felt his mood lifting as the kilometres rolled past. Despite his obsession with punctuality, Rob didn’t hit the outskirts of Yass until 10 minutes past midday and was surprised to find that for once, he didn’t really care.

He soon saw what Annette had meant about the main street of Yass. It was very long, straight and there were lots of little roundabouts to dodge around, until he spotted a set of traffic lights in the distance with a number of cars parked against the kerb out side a grand old wooden building. On closer inspection, one of those cars just happened to be a pretty little black Mercedes AMG SLK55 with its solid hardtop neatly folded away.

He’d long admired the little Benz, particularly this very potent AMG V8 version, and guessed it must have raised a few eyebrows at the ACP, but maybe she had something rather more ordinary as an everyday drive.

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As it was a bit crowded out front, he parked around the corner and wandered back to enter the front bar. He didn’t see her at first since it was rather dim inside, but as his eyes adjusted, he saw there was, as advised, a tall, slim woman perched on a stool at the bar, wearing a red shirt, with a schooner of beer in front of her. He took a moment to size up this woman who was so handy with a scathing word or six, and had to admit that from behind, she looked good with broad shoulders, a slim waist and hips encased in tight blue jeans.

Her shining dark hair hung loose down to the middle of her back, and he had just noted that her beer was at half-mast, when she stood and turned to him. He belatedly realised she’d been checking him out in the mirror behind the bar from the moment he walked in. However, her front view was even more pleasant, as she was very pretty, looked to be a well preserved early 50-something and filled the front of her shirt very nicely.

With a quirky smile on her lips, she held out her hand as he approached and gave him a firm shake, her skin warm and dry.

‘Do I pass inspection?’ she asked in that sexy, husky voice he’d heard last night, but which was so much better live.

He had the grace to blush slightly, before replying, ‘Most definitely. I’m guilty of attaching visual stereotypes to phone voices, and I’m delighted to say that I was a long way off the mark.’

She chuckled warmly, ‘What a back-handed compliment and a charming recovery.’ The truth was that despite the shots she’d taken at him last night, she was more than impressed with the look of the tall, lean, well-spoken barrister, having a soft spot for handsome men with chiselled features and a good tan. ‘Grab yourself a drink and come over to one of these tables at the back. We can talk more privately there. ’

With a beer in hand, Rob followed her over to a table set at the back of the lounge. As he dug his laptop and the portable hard drive out of his hippy-style shoulder bag, he said, ‘I'm sorry to give you so little notice about this meeting, but I was very keen for you to see the files as quickly as possible. And please call me Rob.’

‘No problem, Rob. I’m equally keen to see them and get stuck into the ID process. But you must tell me more about our runaways – like, where are they and how are they all getting along?’

Rob could see no reason to keep the secret of the boat from Annette, so told a short version of the story, including the not-so-secret fact that his daughter Janice, had 189

decided to hop into bed with her rescuer and protector and the various antics of the surreal boat-cat, Jasper.

As an icebreaker, it couldn’t have been better, causing Annette, after her laughter had settled, to say, ‘I wonder if I could talk Harry into taking on another temporary crewmember after all this is over?’

Rob chuckled, ‘Looking like you do, I think he'd be delighted. In fact, I wouldn’t mind a few weeks on board either.’

Annette grinned at the compliment. ‘Dear Rob. What a lovely thing to say.’

‘Well. It’s true! Anyway…’ Rob’s phone rang softly, interrupting him.

With a quick apology, he dug it out of his pocket, only to realise that it was the burner phone in his shoulder bag that was making the summoning sounds.

‘Uh, oh.’ he said to Annette. ‘Speak of the devil, this is Harry now on the SatPhone.’

‘Hi Harry. How are things? Oh, sorry, honey. I just assumed it was the big fella.’

‘…Oh, shit! Are they alright?’

‘…Great, but what happened?’

He listened for some time without saying much more, although he belatedly remembered to tilt the phone away from his ear so Annette could listen as well, becoming slightly distracted when she rested her head against his, giving him a strong whiff of a very heady perfume.

‘Okay, got it all and Annette caught some as well – she’s here with me.’

‘…Yes dear, we’re out of Canberra, but just remind me, when you put a hole in the egg, do you suck or blow?’

‘…Yeah, I know. I’m getting good at it – I’ve been given lessons by an expert. Do you think Luke’s guys are out of action for the moment?’

‘…That long? Outstanding! Good one for the girls and public sympathy, but that won’t be the end of the hunt.’

‘…I’m glad you agree. Oh... Annette wants to have a quick word, hang on.’

He passed the phone over.

‘Hi Janice, glad the girls are okay, but I just wanted to let you guys know there have been more emails to and from Luke discussing the condition of the ‘White Goods’.

Nothing more specific, I’m afraid, but we keep listening and reading.’

‘…You’re welcome. I’ll let you know immediately if we get more. I’ve got some of my team at work today, sifting through emails and voice recordings, so s omething could turn up at any time. Anyway, I’ll let you go hide out wherever it is that you can hide a 190

60ft cat, while I try to persuade your grumpy old man to buy me a bottle of red wine. I think we’re going to be in for a long, nasty afternoon.’

‘…Yeah, I’m learning that. Take care.’

She passed the phone back to Rob who said his goodbyes and terminated the call.

‘What’s this ‘grumpy old man crap?’ Rob demanded with a cheeky grin.

Annette pushed his shoulder, ‘Just go get a bottle of Merlot and two glasses. As I just said, it’s going to be a long afternoon.’

‘But we’ve got to drive!’ Rob protested in horror.

‘Oh fuck it, Rob! Trust me – take a chance and live a little. We’re not going to be looking at happy holiday snaps, are we?’

‘No.’

‘Well, I at least and probably you too, need to be suitably fortified in that case. You do drink red wine, I hope?’

‘Sure. I even like Merlot.’

‘There’s hope for you yet. Well, get your arse over to the bar and ask Matthew nicely to open one of the ones from under the counter. We’ll work out the driving bit later.’

Slightly bemused by this bewitching woman and her quirky moods, Rob dutifully trotted over to the bar, watched by the barman with a wry smile on his face.

‘I’m guessing she wants the best Merlot,’ he said, reaching under the bar to produce a really dusty bottle which had no label.

Rob blinked at the price, but flashed his plastic, collected two glasses and as he was turning away, Matthew quietly commented, ‘She must like you, sport. She doesn't share the good stuff with anybody else.’

Rob raised his eyebrows at that piece of country pub wisdom. ‘Ah... thanks Matthew, I think.’

He chuckled, ‘Enjoy!’

The bar was only sparsely populated and the table Annette had chosen was tucked around a corner well away from the obligatory sports bar section where a row of monitors showed all manner of horse racing and betting odds in vivid colour and stereo sound. Several locals nursed their beers, cheered winners, groaned at losers and blew the grocery money on ‘sure things.’ Rob noted there was a power point handy to their table in case his laptop needed a recharge. He had a feeling it would.

After he’d poured two glasses, he tried a sip and thoroughly approved of her choice.

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‘First, and from a legal standpoint, I’m comfortable with the way Janice and Harry have created and preserved a chain of evidence, as well as the fact Janice didn’t steal the files. At the time she made the copy, they were not locked or hidden in any way, were openly available and not password protected. My considered opinion is she simply accessed files which were on a computer in her house and one that could be considered the joint property of her husband and herself.’

A suddenly professional Annette nodded thoughtfully, ‘Sounds good, but could it be argued that because Luke normally kept his office locked, it was his intention to deny anybody else free access, and the one time Janice was able to gain access was an unintended consequence of the unexpected visitor?’

Rob smiled, ‘Damn! That’s a good defence argument. But I guess a judge would have to think long and hard about whether the intention to prevent an action occurring takes precedence over the action actually occurring by happenstance, and if someone took advantage of that piece of happenstance, the advantage gained should be allowed.’

It was Annette’s turn to smile. ‘Good comeback Counsellor, and it may be correct, but it’s not cut and dried, so if a ruling went against us on the issue of how the files were obtained, all this evidence would be ruled as inadmissible.’

Rob looked rueful, ‘Yeah. I’ve been running that one around in my head for weeks and still can’t find a firm answer. Short of consulting with a judge, who might be compromised, we won't know until it comes to trial.’

‘Okay. Let’s put it aside for the moment, but we need to plan on getting hold of a backup set of evidence – like what might be found in that mansion in Melbourne. I believe that will be the key to the whole thing. A raid on the place, without warning, using that escaped girl the garbo’s found as probable cause for a warrant, could yield everything we need. Especially if we find a duplicate set of jpeg and video files on computers there.’

‘Yes. That would be perfect, but I presume no action is planned against that house so far, on account of the Thai girl?’ Rob asked.

‘No, not yet, thank goodness. Although I did find it strange there’s not even any preliminary planning happening, because she told the coppers she’d been illegally transported from Thailand and held in the house against her will.’

‘So, do you think that means the ACP told the Victorian coppers to lay off, or are they just dragging their feet?’

‘I’m not sure, Rob. Maybe a bit of both. Anyway, it's safe for me to keep probing the Thai girl case since it’s right in my territory.’

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While they’d been talking, Matthew brought out some plates of hot finger food, like little spicy dumplings, mini spring rolls with real pork and veal mince, and some peppery Kransky chipolatas, all with an array of dipping sauces.

‘Thanks Matty,’ Annette said as the first round was delivered.

Matthew just smiled and returned to the bar.

‘You must be a regular,’ Rob commented, ‘he knows all your tastes.’

Annette gave him a casual glance, ‘So the little bugger should. He’s my younger brother and I’ve got a half-share in the place.’

‘Stuff me!’ was Rob’s totally inadequate reply. ‘You are full of surprises! And I must say, the food’s excellent.’

‘Yeah. We got lucky by finding a young fellow who was just out of prison, but had trained as a cook while he was in there. It's hard to find work with jail-time on your record, but we gave him a chance and found he’s a good worker and an even better cook! So far it’s worked out really well, and he’s paired up with the girl who helps with the bar and the kitchen, so everybody’s happy. Trade is building quite nicely, so we’ll probably have to take on another kitchen hand and maybe a casual bar person as well. ’

‘I'm really impressed,’ Rob commented, looking around more carefully than he did earlier. ‘It looks like you’ve made some renovations as well.’

‘Yep. We closed for a week, got some tradies in, fed ‘em lunch and dinner each day, as well as some free beers after 5, and they put in 14-hour days. We did three weeks'

work in one. Matthew and I have a fancy suite each upstairs, and there’s another ten really nice ensuite rooms for rent.’

‘That sounds like a neat package.’

‘Yes. It’s working out quite well. Turnover is up 50% already from when we bought it from an old bloke who didn’t bother to modernise the place or serve decent meals.

That’s where the money is – serve good food at reasonable prices to keep the patrons around and they’ll keep drinking. Free bowls of nuts and the occasional serving of hot, salty finger foods keeps the beer thirst going as well,’ she added with a shrewd grin.

Rob fired up his laptop as his answering smile slowly faded. ‘That sounds great, and I'd like to see more later, but we'd better get to work.’

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CHAPTER 37...Robert Jameson...Yass...Saturday With the folder list on-screen, Rob suggested, ‘Why don't you do a fairly quick skim through each folder of photos, starting with the oldest going back ten years. There’s no real indication of how long these scum have been operating – that’s just as far back as this collection goes. There are an awful lot of photos.’

The professional Annette took over again as she wordlessly slipped on a pair of reading glasses, took hold of the mouse and with Rob sitting close beside her, started skimming through the files. She had a notebook beside her and occasionally jotted a brief note, referenced to a date, photo and folder number.

After 30-odd minutes, she stopped and stared at the ceiling for a few moments, her eyes closed and a pained look on her pretty face.

‘Bloody hell Rob, these are seriously bad people!’ she finally growled. ‘I’ve identified ten well-known faces already. They don’t seem to care they can be identified. Are they really so confident their protection is bulletproof that they can afford to be so open?’

Rob nodded, ‘Yes. We asked the same question, and I think you’re right; it seems to be sheer arrogance that they can’t be touched.’

‘Well,’ she said briskly, taking a solid swig of wine, ‘be a dear and fetch another bottle please. My shout.’

Rob looked at his glass, getting a shock that already they’d knocked over a bottle between them, but dutifully rose and went to the bar.

‘I guess it’s the same again,’ he said cheerfully.

‘Yep, thanks Matthew, Annette's shout. That stuff slides down way too easily! I don’t know how we’re going to drive back to Canberra.’

Matthew laughed, ‘There's no way you were driving anywhere tonight. Sis had me organise a room for you upstairs. She stays here every weekend anyway, so there’ll be plenty of time to sort out your business in peace.’

‘Oh. Well, that sounds pretty good then. I can relax.’

‘Yep, you sure can. We’ll look after everything – in fact, if you let me have your car keys, I’ll have Josie take it ‘round the back where it’ll be safe and out of the way. ’

Rob told him where it was parked, exchanged his keys for the fresh bottle of liquid smoothness, then headed back to Annette who was still scrolling and scribbling alternately.

After re-filling their glasses, he asked, ‘How’s it going?’

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She didn’t look up, but merely said, ‘Stunning! Just stunning! I had no idea Janice had grabbed so much stuff, and these are just the still photos. I see there are a whole bunch of videos as well, but I may only watch one or two of those.

Oh. And I think I found some of your granddaughters. They stood out because they were the only ones where the girls looked happy and relaxed.’

Rob grimaced. ‘Yeah. That’s how they are. Bloody Luke has been taking naked pics of them for years. The girls never seemed to mind being naked anywhere, anytime.’

He gave a chuckle, ‘Mind you, according to Janice, they wouldn’t care who took their photo, so long as the environment was happy and relaxed. That's the way she raised them and I’m proud of what she’s done. They’re great kids!’

‘Yes, they certainly seem to be, although I reckon that they're not really kids any longer.’

‘Yeah. You're right. However, it's a grandfather's right to see them as kids for life.’

Glass suitably replenished, Annette turned back to her review of jus t some of the vast amount of material, while Rob alternately sipped his wine, studied Annette and looked around the pub. She and Matthew had done a great job of renovating the interior and he was interested to see what the upstairs accommodation was like, so he wandered over and asked Matthew if he could see his room and maybe have a quick wash.

‘Sure thing,’ Matthew said with a grin, handing over a key attached to a brass tag with a neat #1 stamped on it. ‘It's the second door on the left at the top of the stairs. Sis has the first on the left and I've got the one opposite. I hope you'll find it comfortable. ’

‘I'm sure I will,’ Rob assured him, before collecting his overnight bag from the table where Annette, oblivious to his movements, was deeply engrossed in the screen display.

The wide, grand staircase which ascended from the back of the lounge area, had beautifully carved and polished dark wood balustrades and turned sedately through 180º, ending at a long, high-ceiling hallway which stretched through to the front of the building. It was carpeted in a thick and tasteful design and lit with dim antique-style wall lamps.

As advised, Rob's key opened the second door on the left to reveal a spacious and comfortable room with the same high ceiling as the hallway and well-lit by ornate French doors opening onto the wide, fully roofed veranda that circled three sides of the upper floor.

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A queen-size bed was to the right, while a door to the left presumably led to the ensuite. A quick look confirmed that, so Rob had a quick pee and washed his face to freshen up a bit, as the unaccustomed consumption of so much wine in the afternoon made him feel like crawling into bed.

Somewhat refreshed, he left his bag on the bed and went back down to re-join Annette, first stopping at the bar to tell Matthew how great the room looked.

‘Thanks Rob. We worked pretty hard on the makeover. We wanted to keep the old feel of the place, but with modern, reliable fittings and facilities. Sis chose all the fabrics and colours – I'm hopeless at that.’

‘Well it certainly worked out well. I hope it pays off in the long run.’

‘It's starting to,’ he replied. ‘We've done deals with several coach companies who do winery tours, so we're getting a few coach-loads from them and there's a number of regular travellers who like the extra comfort and convenience of having food and drink in the one place. We also keep things quiet at night by closing by 11 or 12 o'clock at the latest and not playing the jukebox after 10pm.’

‘That's a good incentive for guests, but don't the locals want a bit more entertainment at night?’

‘You're right, they do. But we fixed that by inviting local talent to play live music Friday night, then Saturday afternoon and night, but acoustic only, no amplifiers or drums.

Annette and I vet them first to make sure they sound all right, so it's a quieter sort of pub music. But, it's been attracting a growing crowd who seem to appreciate not having their eardrums bashed into submission by low-talent, greasy-haired idiots who scream three words as lyrics and only know two chords. We find it especially suits the overnight guests.’

Rob chuckled, ‘That sounds like my sort of live pub music. So, who's on tonight?’

‘Oh, you'll like them! It's a young girl singer and her brother with guitar. She's got a beautiful voice and he harmonises with her really well. If she was older and not still at school, we reckon she'd be snapped up by a talent scout as a support act for one of the major touring groups.’

‘Must be good.’

‘Yeah, she really is! But for now, we're just happy to have her play as often as she wants, and so are the locals. They're very supportive as you'll see in a few hours’ time.’

Rob glanced at the old station clock above the bar and was surprised to see that it was going on 5.30. ‘Wow! Where's the day gone? It seems like I just got here.’

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Matthew chuckled, ‘Yeah I know what you mean, but hopefully Sis will take a break soon and you can have a feed. The tucker's pretty good.’

‘If the finger food you brought out earlier was anything to go by, I'm sure dinner will be just great,’ Rob assured him, before heading back to Annette who was standing beside her chair, arching her back to relieve the muscles, and stretching her arms above her head which did most attractive things to both her shirt front and jeans. Rob was slightly surprised to feel an unfamiliar stirring in his loins as he idly wondered what she'd look like naked – then was rather embarrassed when she put her arms down and looked at him with her very direct gaze, seeming to catch his thoughts. Her cheeky grin confirmed his fears, but did nothing to stop the tingling sensation in his crotch.

‘I don't have to ask what you were thinking,’ she said, still grinning. ‘You depraved beast, it was written all over your face!’

Rob sat down quickly, face red, while mentally composing a smooth, suave reply, but when he realised he was staring straight at the front of her very tight jeans, he stammered out an apology, ‘Oh bugger. I'm sorry. You must think I'm terrible. I'd better blame an excess of that lovely wine for my dreadful manners.’

Annette laughed before stepping up to him and briefly hugging his head against her flat, hard belly.

‘There's nothing to be sorry about, dear man. You just paid me a lovely compliment , but perhaps we should have dinner first? It would be awfully unseemly to rush off to bed while the sun's still up.’

Rob wasn't sure he'd heard right, but smiled back and nodded agreement. ‘Dinner sounds good, but I might go up and shower first. All this wine has slowed me down a bit.’

She looked appraisingly at him, ‘Good idea. How about we meet back here in thirty minutes? You might as well take your laptop with you – I've seen all I need to for now, so we'll talk it over tomorrow. It's been a long day on top of a long week, and I need to unwind a bit so a good feed and some quiet music will be a good start.’

When Rob came back down, suitably refreshed, Annette was propped up at what must have been her usual place at the bar chatting with Matthew, her hair showing signs she'd just washed it.

‘Feel better now?’ she asked, as Mathew moved away to serve a thirsty customer.

‘Much,’ he replied. ‘I needed to freshen up, but I may not be staying up late tonight.’

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Annette smiled, ‘Good idea. We've got a lot to discuss tomorrow and I'm too tired to do anymore work tonight. I need to let my mind work over what I've seen today and come up with a plan of action.’

They sat down to a beautiful, three-course meal, and had just finished the main course of a superb Beef Wellington, when the young girl singer and her brother appeared and without ceremony, set up on the tiny stage nearby and started singing.

Matthew was right, she had a beautiful voice and her brother complimented her at every stage, harmonising perfectly and never trying to overpower her voice. They sang a range of material from ballads to folk and country rock numbers, but whatever it was, the very enthusiastic crowd of locals clapped and cheered loud and long at the end of each song.

Their final song, which must have been their signature closing, was a glorious rendition of 'The Last Goodbye' from the movie, ‘The Hobbit - Battle of the Five Armies’.

The applause shook dust from the ceiling and caused more than a few tears to stain cheeks, both male and female.

By the time a generous serving of Grandfather port had been disposed of, Rob was ready to retire and Annette looked the same. So without messing about, they made their slightly wobbly way upstairs, where Annette simply unlocked her door and pulled Rob in after her. Switching on a dim bed light provided enough illumination as she removed her clothes and waited while Rob made a slow visual inspection of her body, before taking off his own gear.

Apparently she was sufficiently impressed with his body's response to her nakedness to flick the bedclothes back and lie back across the bed. Rob didn't need a written invitation and soon found a position that gave maximum pleasure to both. Annette was not content to simply have him inside her, she wanted some action as well and for the next hour, she tested Rob's stamina.

The result, however, was most satisfying for both of them and they lay for quite a time without moving as their bodies cooled.

They slept a few hours before Annette demanded a repeat bout, during which Rob was pleasantly surprised to discover that he was more than able to meet her demands.

She woke him the next morning wearing a dressing gown and carrying a tray laden with a hot breakfast that would feed a troupe of truckies. Rob initially shuddered at the 198

thought of all that food, but suddenly his stomach discovered it needed filling and he scoffed down his share along with a fair portion of Annette's, much to her amusement.

‘Do you always finish off your lady friend's food?’ she asked, with a girlish giggle.

‘Nah. Not usually – just yours,’ was his reply which earned him a swipe at his head.

That, in turn, lead to a wrestling bout where Annette quickly lost her dressing gown and the two behaved somewhat badly for a while. By the time Rob looked at a clock, it was going on 09:30.

‘Bloody hell! Look at the time!’

Annette smiled. ‘And where were you rushing off to at 09:30, that's so important?’

‘Ah... well, I don't know. I mean, shouldn't we be doing something?’

‘I think we have been, dopey,’ she teased. ‘Several times even, and very nice they all were too.’

Rob blushed, ‘Yeah. I've got to admit the whole weekend so far has been rather terrific.’

‘But you’re suggesting you need to get moving doing something other than rolling around in bed with me. Is that about right?’

He blushed again, ‘Well no. I mean, I... oh bugger it, woman! I don't know what I mean.

I'm just not used to being able to relax with delightful company, without having to rush off somewhere.’

She grinned, ‘Well saved, Sir Knight. For that, I'll let you share my shower and even wash me.’

They actually made it downstairs shortly after 10:00, just as Matthew was opening up the front doors.

‘Morning, Sis; morning, Rob,’ he called cheerfully. ‘I trust you had a restful night?’

‘Terrific,’ Rob replied, with a reasonably straight face, the whole effect being ruined by Annette breaking up into giggles as she headed for the kitchen and some more tea.

‘It's okay Rob,’ Matthew grinned. ‘It's great to see her relaxing for once. She works really hard and has enormous pressures on her at work, so this is her refuge from all that. This is the happiest I've seen her for a long time.’

That statement eased Rob's fears that he was just another in a long line of Annette's temporary partners.

‘Yeah. She's a special lady all right,’ Rob said. ‘I've gathered a bit about her job and the pressures involved. It must be hard breaking into a predominately man's world.’

‘That’s the problem. The better she is, the more resentment builds up against her from her male colleagues, but if she makes mistakes, she's dumped on from a great height.

How can she win?’

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‘Like in most things, I guess. Keep doing the best you can and hope the right people up top notice.’

‘Well said. By the way, what'd you think of our singers last night?’

‘Fantastic! You were right that the girl could hold her own anywhere. I know a couple of trustworthy music promoters in Melbourne who'd jump at the chance to take her on when she's ready to turn professional. Neither of the two I'd recommend would do the wrong thing by her, and I'd be happy to look after the legal side of things.’

Matthew looked thoughtful. ‘Thanks Rob. That's a decent offer. I'll mention it to her, but she really wants to finish school first.’

‘No problem with that. The music world can wait a little longer.’

CHAPTER 38... Firebird... Wynyard...Saturday morning As we drove sedately away from the increasingly congested main street, I was more than a little angry over the attempted kidnapping, and kicked myself for letting security lapse to such an extent that the girls were so very nearly grabbed. For the fourth or fifth time, I apologised, only to be told they forgave me and must take some blame, since it was their idea to visit the shops.

They were in a surprisingly upbeat mood and feeling very proud of their self-defence prowess.

‘Do you think Sandy will be proud of us?’ Zoe asked for the third time.

‘I know she will,’ I responded again. ‘I certainly am! You absolutely flattened those shitheads.’

‘Are you really?’ Angie asked, pleased with the praise.

‘Hell, yes!’

She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, but then she looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘But in hindsight, that was pretty dangerous, wasn’t it? I mean... that little guy who grabbed Zoe was almost frothing at the mouth and his big mate looked worse. I think we just got lucky because they didn’t expect us to fight back.’

‘And,’ Zoe chipped in, ‘how dumb was it to try to grab us in the middle of a crowd! With their car on the other side of the road, traffic jammed up, and a bunch of angry men chasing them? I mean, just how stupid can they be?’

I smiled at her as I drove around yet another corner at random, in case there were more of Luke’s men on our tail. ‘Well put. They were definitely the ‘B’ team, but I’m 200

certain we won’t be so lucky next time. Your Dad’s shown he’s still determined to scoop you up and I think next time he’ll try it with a much better crew.’

Angie thought some more and then asked the question I’d been dreading.

‘But why is he trying so hard, Harry? Like, I can understand maybe he'd want us to get back together, although after what he’s done to Mum, I know that’ll never happen. But to have guys all over the country looking for us seems rather extreme. It must be costing him a fortune, and we can’t make any sense out of it.’

I pulled over on a quiet street and stopped in the shade of a tree, turning sideways to face both of them.

‘You’re right – there’s a lot more to this than you’ve been told so far. Your Mum, Sandy and I wanted to protect you from the whole story, simply because it’s very nasty and your Mum didn’t want you to have it on your minds as well, but I think the time has come for you to learn the full facts.’

I smiled, ‘Unfortunately, Mums often think their little girls are always ten years old regardless of their real age or level of maturity. You guys have proved that at eighteen, you’re mature enough to handle anything life can and will toss at you. However, I’ll wait until after we’re back aboard and have told your Mum and Sandy what’s happened.’

They looked puzzled and a little apprehensive.

‘But what could be so bad that none of you want to tell us?’ Angie almost wailed, nearly melting my resolve.

‘Look, this really will have to wait ‘till we’re back aboard before you bombard me with any more questions. I just need to have a quick look at the crime scene before we leave. Alright?’

The quick switch of topic disconcerted them for a m oment, but Angie rallied quickly.

‘Why go back there? Won’t it be a big risk?’

‘No one's looking for me, and if you can keep your heads down for ten minutes, I might find out if those two arseholes were acting alone, or if we have others close behind them. That’s vital intelligence we really need.’

They nodded their understanding, so I worked out where we were and headed back to the main street. We’d only been away about ten minutes with no one chasing us, but I told the girls to slide right down below window level anyway.

I approached through a side street and one glimpse of the log -jammed main street ahead made me park at the back of a pub just down from the newsagent. After telling 201

the girls to stay down with windows up and the doors locked, I strolled up the street, confident they were safe while I found out what was going on.

With the street blocked solid with stalled traffic, it would have been impossib le to do a drive-by. Two ambulances and three police cars were the cork in the bottle and they weren’t moving for anybody.

Unable to turn around, the bulk of the traffic had nowhere to go, so their occupants happily added their numbers to the seething mass of humanity surrounding the scene.

It was obviously the most exciting thing to happen in the main street for some time.

Looking back down toward the harbour, I saw two uniformed coppers starting the slow process of getting drivers to turn their cars around and go elsewhere. Two constables outside the newsagency were vainly trying to hold onlookers back, so I eased my way into the press of shoppers and asked an old lady what was happening.

‘It’s all very confusing, dearie. Two men are badly hurt on the ground there and the ambos are working on them. Somebody said they were the ones who ran away from a car accident just over in front of the Post Office, attacked two girls here for some reason, then were bashed up by the drivers of the cars involved in the accident.’

‘Oh, dear me,’ I appeared shocked, ‘how are they?’

‘Oh. I'm not sure, they’re still in there being treated,’ she laughed, ‘although someone else said the girls walloped them before the drivers got to them, but I’m not too sure about that. I mean, I don’t think two young girls could have done much against two grown men.’

I laughed with her, ‘No. That doesn’t sound right. Are the men badly hurt?’

‘Well, like I said, I'm not really sure, but my friend Gladys was at the front for a while, and she said they’re in bad shape!’

‘Oh. I guess that there won’t be any hope of them walking away from this, then?’

‘No way!’ she stated emphatically. ‘Gladys heard one ambo say to her mate that they could be crippled for life.’

‘Goodness me, that’s terrible. So, what are the cops doing about it? Have you heard?’

‘Ha! They haven’t got a clue,’ she cackled. ‘The drivers all went back to their cars as soon as the wallopers arrived and looked innocent. The men who attacked the girls can’t talk, so the coppers have to try to get something that makes sense out of two busted-up bad guys.’

‘But those poor girls,’ I asked, ‘how are they?’

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‘Now that’s a funny thing,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘they must be all right, because someone said when the drivers turned up, they ran off over the road and disappeared.

Someone else said they had dark skins and might have been African or Koori, so that’s probably the last we’ll hear from them. Nobody recognised them, anyway, so they’re not from around here. We get indigenous people from other areas coming through here at times. They’d be terribly frightened by the whole thing, the poor dears. I know I would be.’

I prowled around the crowd a bit longer, and was listening for any fresh scraps of info when I overheard a woman telling the Sergeant heading the response team, that she saw the small man attacking the girls and it looked like he was trying to grab them.

‘He was foaming at the mouth!’ she said indignantly. ‘The filthy little germ! I saw him grab one girl by the arm, but she pulled away. He must have had something sharp in his hand, though, like a knife or something, ‘cause her arm was badly slashed and bleeding badly afterwards.’

‘So, he had a weapon of some sort?’ the Sergeant asked, scribbling in his notebook.

‘Well, he must have. I mean, she was cut up and bleeding a lot from where he grabbed at her, but to be honest, I didn’t see the weapon, so it must have been small,’ the old dear responded. ‘But then I didn’t see much after that. It was all so very violent with all those young men fighting. But I know I did see the girl’s arm slashed and bleeding badly. I really did! Why would someone attack a young girl like that? We never have violence in this town.’

After that fascinating exchange which had just escalated the crime to assault with a weapon occasioning actual bodily harm and attempted forcible abduction, nothing new was added. The ambos told the Sergeant that their patients' condition was deteriorating rapidly and they needed very urgent hospital treatment, available only in Burnie, fifteen minutes fast driving away. Therefore, the Sergeant started barking orders into his radio, arranging for an officer to ride in the ambulance, with a Highway Patrol car to lead the way to Burnie hospital. He also ordered a 24-hour armed guard on both men.

With that happy news, I eased back out of the crowd and made my way to the car, where the girls were glad to see me. The shakes were setting in by now, but they reported no one had taken any notice of them. In short order, I drove to a service station where I filled Ernie’s fuel tank, and soon we were parked out back of Mavis’s pub. We made it to the RIB without meeting anybody we knew, and quietly headed home.

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Janice and Sandy were horrified by the story of the attack and the damage to Zoe’s arm, but I calmed things down slightly by pointing out that the girls were nicely in the clear.

From what I'd pieced together, the story was that the police wanted to talk to two girls of African or Koori origin, one of whom had been attacked with a knife of some description. Their two assailants were on their way to hospital with a number of very serious injuries, incurred under mysterious circumstances and would be under 24-hour police guard. They were no doubt facing a long list of charges which should see them locked up for a long time, particularly with their prior records.

Oddly, there had been no mention of blonde hair on the girls, only dark skin colour, due to the tanning they’d built up over the last couple of weeks, and both wearing baseball caps. Therefore, between normal public misperception, bad reporting, lousy memory, lack of the primary victims and two attackers who were already convicted felons, it was a delightfully muddled mess.

While she cleaned and competently dressed Zoe’s arm, Sandy said how proud she was of their reactions, which cheered them up considerably.

CHAPTER 39... Firebird... Wynyard...Saturday With that info passed and Zoe comfortable, I collected everybody for a round-table conference, where I outlined our position, which basically was that Luke had lost our trail for the time being. The downside was that having had a positive sighting, he now had a fresh starting point with potential witnesses to intimidate and extract information.

We had little option but to scoot back into hiding again and strike Wynyard off the list of safe havens for now, but there were some pressing discussions with the girls to be had first.

I deferred to Janice to start proceedings, which she did in a very hesitant manner, but soon got into stride. Each time she seemed to be avoiding an issue, I chipped in with an elaboration of the point.

‘But what was Dad doing with our photos?’ asked Zoe. ‘I mean, we don’t care who sees us, as you all know, so what’s the big deal?’

‘The big deal,’ I explained, to give Janice a breather, ‘is that your father was trading your photos to other men, and also some women, all over the world!’

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‘Oh,’ Zoe replied faintly, ‘but what was he trading them for?’

‘More photos of other young kids. That’s how these groups work. To get included in the supply chain of photos from others, you have to trade your way in with some fresh ones of your own.’

‘Okay,’ said Angie, ‘that’s a bit tacky, but still no real biggie for us. I would have thought we were getting a bit old for the 'naked young girls' thing. Anyway, that still doesn’t justify his actions. There’s got to be more than that, so please stop stuffing around and tell us.’

I looked at Janice and Sandy and shrugged. ‘Have you heard of paedophiles and what they do?’

‘Sure, we have,’ Angie said. ‘They prey on young kids for sex and all sorts of awful stuff....’

Her eyes widened and a stricken look slid into place on her face.

‘Aww no way! Dad couldn’t be mixed up in something like that!’

I waited a few moments for both to think it through, and then gently said, ‘I’m afraid to say that not only is he mixed up in a world-wide ring of paedophiles, but he owns and runs a big house in Melbourne which caters for others who are as bent as he is, and who indulge in that sort of activity. Sort of like a brothel, but where only paedophiles can indulge in all their filthy habits.’

The girls looked horror-stricken and shook their heads in denial as Janice and Sandy scooted in quickly and tried to comfort them.

‘Your Mum had the opportunity to copy a lot of files off his computer before you all left your home and since most of them are photos and videos, they prove all we’ve said and much more. There are a lot of well-known people in the photos, which is why your Pop, Hillary and Debbie have been involved. We can’t just blow the whistle on a few .

We need to catch all of them before they go undercover and start over again somewhere else. Kids would be hurt or killed in the process if they went undercover,’ I grimly added.

The girls looked at each other for a few moments, silently communing in that uncanny way twins so often do, before Angie spoke with determination in her voice.

‘Okay. We accept what you say about Dad, the paedophiles and the photo files. But that’s still not enough. There must be something else you haven’t told us. Because as bad as all that stuff is, it doesn’t explain why Dad is trying so hard to find us.’

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Sandy and Janice looked at me in mute appeal, so I drew a deep breath and said,

‘You’re right. There is more and it’s the main reason why we’ve kept quiet about all the paedophile stuff. To be blunt – I believe that you are both virgins?’

They both nodded, but weren't in the slightest put out by my question. ‘Okay. There’s a small but high-priced market amongst the very wealthiest of the paedophile set, particularly in the Middle East, for young, virgin Caucasian females. The price goes up dramatically if there are identical twins on offer, and even more for being genuine blonde. Although at eighteen, as you said, you're well past the most sought-after

'young girl' stage.

We believe there is on-line bidding underway between members of that small group for the pair of you, with one offer already on the table. And that, dear girls, is why half the Australian underworld is out looking for you. They don’t want your Mum and don’t even know or care about Sandy or me – just you two.’

It rocked the girls more than anything else and Janice and Sandy re-doubled their efforts to comfort them, but Angie’s reaction was not what I expected. She got a furious look on her face, before saying, ‘So that rotten, stinking pile of shit who calls himself our father, has not only bashed Mum repeatedly, but has set us up to be sold as sex slaves? Is that the situation?’

I nodded unhappily. ‘Yep. That sums it up nicely, I’m afraid. Now you know why we’ve been going to such lengths with your Pop, Hillary, Debbie and others, to get names to match the pictures and wrap this filthy mess up. But while that’s happening, we have a separate task to keep you out of your dad’s grubby paws.’

They were quiet again, until Angie said, a little more calmly, ‘How sure are you of the auction thing? I mean, is there some proof, or is it just an educated guess?’

‘It started out as a wild idea I had, prompted by exactly the same reasoning you've just applied – why is he trying so incredibly hard to get you? But we’ve received proof from the Commonwealth coppers, of the auction process and offers through telephone and internet taps on your father’s phone, internet and email connections.’

Angie looked at Zoe who was huddled in Janice’s arms and they did the silent communication thing again. ‘We’d like to hear all of what’s going on to nail these putrid arseholes, if you don’t mind.’

I was happy to put all the subterfuge behind us, and gladly outlined the investigation as it had proceeded so far. When I mentioned the involvement of a few senior ACP and Victorian police officers, the girls finally understood why the investigation had to 206

proceed quietly. It also helped Angie lose her bleak expression in exchange for one of extreme interest.

‘All these people getting involved – it’s amazing! Is there anything we can do to help?’

‘No. Apart from staying in hiding and keeping you two from being grabbed again, that’s all we can do for now. The people working on the case just need time to put it together so the bad guys can all be grabbed at the same time. All the other little kids involved need protection too!’

She nodded understanding, but then sensibly added, ‘Okay. But we reckon there’s one rather important thing which has been overlooked.’

Three adults looked puzzled. ‘If someone was going to pay a squillion for us, how is he going to be guaranteed we’re still virgins?’

I coughed and promptly hand-balled that one to Janice or Sandy, but before either could come up with a reply, Angie added, ‘What you all need to understand is, there’s no longer any physical evidence. That went many years ago for various reasons, so how can our status be proven one way or the other? Certainly not by any medical examination. You only have our word that we still are, but I doubt that’d be proof to someone who was paying a lot of money for us. Therefore, I presume the price on our heads would drop dramatically if we appeared to be ‘used goods’?’

Janice and Sandy looked a bit disconcerted, but I started laughing, as both the superb logic and absurdity of the situation appealed greatly to my warped sense of humour.

The huge cost of the search – all the aggravation and bloodshed – all the time Janice had wasted dragging herself and the girls around the countryside. It all could have been stopped at the beginning if Luke had bothered to ask a female, any female, the right questions. Even asking his daughters would have solved the problem.

It also would have helped if he had an understanding of Middle Eastern cultures, where they weren’t used to females having the freedom to do as they wished. To them it was only natural that if a female wasn’t a prostitute or married, she had to be a virgin , particularly if she was young and normally would have the physical evidence to prove it.

Without physical proof, there were no virgins by their standards, and that made the whole auction thing a farce! Presenting for sale a matched pair of pretty, young blonde girls would probably still attract a good price as sex slaves, but it would be a pittance compared to what Luke was hoping for.

When I explained my thoughts, everyone saw the funny side, which helped lift the pall of gloom which had settled over the girls. There was a strong temptation to have Janice 207

call Luke right then and explain his terribly stupid mistake, but fortunately common sense prevailed, since that news would have given the whole game away.

Into the momentary silence, Angie threw out another clever suggestion. ‘Why don’t we go ashore right now and try to see a doctor? A quick peek and he can issue a certificate of our physical condition. It should be all the proof necessary to show we are not as our dear, depraved daddy has declared us to be.’

She looked around the table as we processed the simple, but radical new idea.

I cleared my throat, ‘As a basically ignorant male, it sounds perfectly feasible to me.

Especially if Sandy goes as well and flashes her Queensland Police credentials and asks for his assistance in carrying out what would be an unusual request.’

Sandy looked thoughtful, ‘That could work. Perhaps telling the truth that it was part of a highly sensitive, multi-state investigation into paedophilia and child-abuse would be best.’

Sandy moved things along by asking, ‘Janice, would you let your fingers do the talking and try to get an urgent appointment with a GP?’

Janice looked bemused, but went inside to make the calls.

To the girls, Sandy said, ‘Get changed, please girls. Something dull like plain, baggy shorts and a loose shirt. Sunnies and a hat or headscarf of some sort will have to do for disguise. I’ll change as well and dig out my official ID.’

I was pleased Sandy had taken charge and acted so quickly on Angie’s suggestion. If the doctor was co-operative, we would have the best defence against any further kidnapping attempts, but only if we could show the certificates to the right persons at the right time. At the moment, I couldn’t think how we could use them without alerting the bad guys that retribution time was fast approaching, so I decided to keep that depressing thought to myself.

The girls and Sandy were back in the cockpit, changed and ready to go before Janice was off the phone.

‘Finally,’ she said, smiling, ‘I found a doctor willing to see us as a matter of urgency. He was puzzled when I wouldn’t say what the problem was, but accepted my promise that we would explain all.’

‘Great,’ I said, ‘I’ll drive you there, but won’t come in. Let’s go.’

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Five minutes later, we were back in Ernie’s old Holden following a set of dictated directions to a private house, several blocks away from the main street, where the doctor had a small surgery in his house.

I parked out front and watched my four lovely ladies troop inside.

Twenty minutes later they were back, the girls subdued, but Janice and Sandy happy.

‘All good,’ Sandy said. ‘He was concerned about such an unusual request, even though it was perfectly legal. I had to resort to Plan B and flash my Police ID and to promise to let him know the whole story when we can, but otherwise, he’s happy.’

On the way back to the pub, I told them, ‘Before we leave, I need to update Mavis what to expect from the investigators, then they can be on guard and able to apply some misdirection. Some of that ‘keeping Mum’ routine that Ernie was banging on about the other night would be a great help.’

‘While I think of it Angie, as soon as we’re aboard, will you and Zoe go through our stores and make a list of what we need? We can’t go uptown here, so we’ll drop into Stanley on the way back to the island.’

‘Sure Harry. No problem.’

I suggested to Sandy, ‘You might like to give Bob Casey a call and bring him up to date on all the goings-on and after that, would you mind calling Annette as well?’

‘Good idea. I keep forgetting about Bob. I’ll do it while you’re seeing Mavis, then call Annette.’

While I was on a roll with the orders, I said to Janice, ‘We also need to call Robert with the same update. You know what to say but also let him know we’re pulling our heads in for a while, so comms will be via email or SatPhone only. I’ll look after calling Hillary and Debbie.’

They understood, and went to wait with the dinghy while I ducked into the pub, finding Mavis in the bar with a lively and rowdy lunch crowd building.

‘Going to have a schooner, Jimmy?’ she called out.

‘Not today, thanks Mavis,’ I replied, beckoning her closer. She left her bar wiping for a moment and wandered over to the clear space where I leant.

‘Wot’s up, love?’ she asked, shrewd eyes scanning my face for a clue.

‘We’re shoving off,’ I said, ‘and may not be back for a while. There was a bit of a fuss up the main street this morning, you may have heard?’

‘Oh, goodness, yes. The whole town’s talking about it. Never had so much drama in sleepy little Wynyard.’

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‘Well, for your ears only – remember that wife-bashing situation I told you about?’

She nodded, ‘Yup. Sure do. I told you then and I’ll repeat it now – we keep our own secrets and look after good people’s as well.’

I smiled, ‘I'm sure glad to hear that again, Mavis, because the husband in question sent some thugs to try to grab the two girls. The fuss this morning was an abduction attempt that went horribly wrong for two of the bad guys, but the husband is still trying very, very hard to grab the girls. He doesn’t want his wife, just the girls, if you get my meaning?’

Her eyes went wide and the genial, smiling hostess façade slipped away, to be replaced by something a great deal harder and more competent.

‘Well, stuff me!’ she exclaimed rather eloquently. ‘That explains a lot and I’m glad you told me.’

She then gave me a careful look, ‘I’m guessing it means we might soon be getting a visit from some other gentlemen looking for a couple of blonde girls, will w e?’

‘Yep, that’s exactly what’s likely to happen.’

‘And I guess that it would be much healthier for them if there was no talk of girls on a boat?’

‘That would be fantastic, but be careful. When they do turn up asking questions, they’re likely to be a lot tougher than the last pair of clowns, so please don’t take any risks. ’

She gave a deep belly laugh, ‘Now don’t you worry about that. We can look after ourselves with strangers, and we know how to handle any nosy dicks that try to find out our secrets. You might say we’re quite expert at it.

What I’ll do is have a word with Ernie and a couple of the others. We won’t deny we’ve seen the girls and their Mum around town, but we can say that they got the shits with being chased all the time and jumped in their car and drove back to the mainland. I can always drop a hint that I heard them talking about going to......?’

‘Hamilton Island is nice this time of year,’ I supplied with a grin.

‘That’s the place,’ she beamed. ‘Hamilton Island. Always wanted to go there meself, but never did find the time. Still, one day, some good-looking bloke with a flash sailing boat might come by and wizz me away to that very island.’

I laughed with her, appreciating her strong will and ready support for travellers in trouble.

‘You never know, Mavis, someday a bloke just might fancy picking up a good-looking sort and sailing off to do just that.’

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She had a sudden glisten in her eye as she ducked under the access flap across the bar top and gave me an eye-popping hug that raised a chorus of whistles and ribald remarks from the far end of the bar.

‘Look after the ladies, Jimmy,’ she said softly. ‘Ernie said you were a good’un and he’s never been wrong. Don’t worry about this end – we’ll take care of things for you. Just come back to see us when all this rubbish has shaken down. Promise?’

I had a bit of a catch in my throat as I kissed her, then left the bar, waving to the regulars up the back as I went.

Back aboard and with the dinghy secured for sea, I made immediate preparations for sailing. Sandy reported Bob Casey was delighted with her progress, but appalled by the near-miss grab for the girls.

Janice reported she’d spoken to Rob who had nothing new, but he became strangely frantic when told that Luke’s minions had failed again. She was also surprised he had met with Annette so quickly, and who passed on that she had little extra news apart from more email traffic with Luke referring to the condition and location of the ‘ white goods’.

Angie handed over the list of supplies she’d arranged into a spreadsheet.

‘How are the food stocks?’

‘Pretty good in general, but we’re down on fresh fruit and vegies again and we really should have bought more bread-making supplies.’

‘Okay. Stanley it is. There’s time to get there, do a re-stock and still get to Shepherds Bay by dark.’

‘That sounds good.’

I gave her an affectionate pat on the bum that made her giggle, and got on with getting us moving. With Zoe on the wheel and the engines rumbling contentedly, I left her to once again take us safely out to sea, while I called Hillary. They were still heading home and were shocked to hear what had happened so soon after the y’d left. Hillary said it didn’t change things for them, apart from increasing the urgency of chasing leads and information. They thanked me again for a wonderful trip and promised t o call when they had some news.

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CHAPTER 40... Firebird... Wynyard/Shepherds Bay...Saturday We dropped anchor just off the boat ramp in Stanley Harbour at 14:30. It was a pretty little place, totally dominated by the dark and rather brooding presence of th e ‘Nut’, as the huge, roughly circular mass of rock looming over the town was called. As Janice, Sandy and I motored ashore in the RIB, we saw that the two public boat ramps were quite busy, the left one rather hemmed-in by a curving rock wall.

We were still fifty metres out, when we saw and heard a beefy guy with a loud voice and a huge beer gut hanging over his footy shorts, giving a conflicting series of directions to his wife or girlfriend. She was trying to back a twenty-foot half-cabin tinnie with a huge outboard hung on its stern, down the left ramp. Loud-mouth seemed incapable of telling her the movement he wanted the trailer to make, and how the steering wheel should be turned. Consequently, time and again, the trailer, seemingly with a mind of its own, came within centimetres of the rock walls either side of the ramp.

Finally, a very shapely young lady leapt out of the cab of the Ford F-350, stormed up to the head of the ramp, crossed her arms under her generous boobs and glared back down-ramp at the red-faced goose.

‘For fuck's sake, Jack! Either say what you want and let me do it, or do the whole fuckin’

thing your bloody self. It’s not as though I haven’t done this before. You don’t know your left hand from your useless, tiny dick, you fat wombat!’

‘Why’d the fuck did you call me that?’ was the spluttering answer. ‘Get yourself back down here. Right now!’

‘Get fucked!’ was her screamed reply, accompanied by a glare of renewed intensity and an obvious refusal to move. In frustration, the guy stomped back up to the ute and proceeded to share the paint from the stern and sides of his new boat with both rock walls, despite the 5-metre width of the ramp. After much crunching and grinding, he triumphantly ran the trailer into the water at speed, making a giant wave that nearly swamped an old couple, just loading up their little tinnie in the next ramp.

Beer-gut was so pleased with himself, he didn't notice the back half of his gleaming red F-350 was semi-submerged, with water up to the back of the crew-cab. He did, however, become a little more agitated when his boat, no longer secured to the trailer and lacking the convenience of a restraining bow line, floated serenely away, well out of reach against the far end of the rock wall. He started to wade into the water after it, then stopped to throw his bulging wallet and mobile phone back at the truck where they 212

missed the cab window, bounced off the oversize side mirror which promptly shattered, then fell into the water anyway.

Briefly, peace descended on the ramp as the red-faced goose was stricken speechless, but just as he was working out who to yell at next, he had another attack of speechlessness when his boat gave a sodden lurch sideways away from the rough embrace of the rocks with a loud grinding sound – the stern rapidly settling lower in the water.

‘Forget the drain bungs again, as well as the bow rope did we, SKIPPER?’ the girl's sarcastic question echoed down the ramp and over half the harbour. ‘You fuckin’ great goose! You couldn’t launch a wet fart properly, let alone a boat!’

Although nearly helpless with laughter, it was probably just as well we were not far away, as I pointed the bow of the RIB toward the sinking big tinnie. With our soft bow jammed between the half-submerged stern and the tilted outboard, I pushed the wallowing mass of expensive metal toward the ramp, yelling at red-face who was dancing around with broken bits of mirror stuck in his bare feet, trying to retrieve his soggy wallet and busted mobile from the water, ‘Drive forward enough to bring the trailer up. Quickly, before this thing sinks completely.’

Fortunately, the girl immediately sized up the situation, trotted back down the ramp, elbowed the tub of lard aside so hard that he slipped on the weed-covered ramp, landing on his arse, then she jumped in the cab. She eased the truck forward enough so as the trailer partly emerged, I managed to roughly push the boat onto the guide rollers.

‘Now hook the winch cable on the bow eye,’ I called, revving my outboard up to full power to hold the still-settling mass from slipping backwards, ‘and try to crank it in a bit before it slips back off the rollers.’

She quickly and competently followed my instructions, her partner having parked himself on the rock wall to painfully extract more shards of mirror from his feet. Finally the soggy beast slowly emerged from the water, two large jets of water spouting from the open bungs in the transom. She hopped out of F-350, waved and bowed her thanks, her boobs almost falling out of her bikini top, causing the old geezer in the next ramp to cop a smack across the ear from his wife just for looking. The girl kicked her useless partner in the shins, before getting back in the truck and carefully driving the rig back up the ramp to let it finish draining.

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Still chuckling, we motored around to the other side of the commercial slipway where there was a convenient little loading dock. We shared a laugh and a cheery wave with the old couple as they drove out of the parking lot, before strolling off toward town.

We’d left the girls aboard, knowing that with Jasper to mind them, they were well protected. Perhaps understandably enough, they weren’t keen to explore the delights of Stanley, as quaint and pretty as it was. It was only a few hundred metres along the waterfront road to the supermarket and didn’t take us long to find the supplies we needed. Plus some treats for the girls and Jasper.

One of the very obliging staff kindly offered to drive us back to the dinghy with all our stuff and that saved even more time, although it still needed two trips in the dinghy to get the shopping and ourselves back aboard.

‘Bloody hell!’ exclaimed Angie, in mock indignation, as she surveyed the mass of bags and parcels. ‘That’s the last time I let you three go shopping by yourselves. Where am I going to put all this stuff?’

Naturally, she was laughed at before Sandy and Janice helped her find space while Zoe helped me get under way. Fifteen minutes later, we were beating into a strong, hot northerly with spray whipping across the foredeck. It was my least favourite point of sail, but in this case, there was no choice. Another vigorous cold front was expected in the morning, so we needed to be in a sheltered anchorage tonight.

Although as uncomfortable as expected, we still made reasonable time and had carefully dropped and bedded both bow anchors into the sandy bottom of Shepherds Bay just before nightfall.

The cold front squall line struck during the night, and although not as vicious as last time, it still was enough to get Sandy worried. Yet, we rode out the screeching gusts and torrential rain without a problem, apart from losing a heap of sleep. I managed to chase all the ladies back to bed, Sandy sticking with Janice, while I maintained watch.

Once I was certain the wind was dropping and we were secure, I went back to bed for a couple of hours of sleep.

I didn’t wake until late morning, the ladies considerately leaving me to indulge in a rare, luxurious lie-in. Although it was a lousy day with cold, gusty winds driving sheets of rain across the anchorage and moaning around the mast, the girls had the boat buttoned up and the diesel heaters on, so all was warm and dry. For the rest of the day, the familiar 214

shipboard routine kicked back in with board games played, pussy played with, movies watched and lots of tasty snacks and hot tea consumed.

Zoe was happy to dry Jasper off after he had to go outside for his toilet, but he loved being involved in human activities and having the choice of so many bodies to drape himself over.

The day passed happily. We kept a close eye on the girls, but they seemed to have largely shrugged off the dual shock of the kidnap attempt and discovering dear old dad’s unhealthy obsession with young kids and selling daughters. That depression seemed to have been replaced with a new level of maturity and a firm resolve to bring these rock spiders to justice – dear dad included.

CHAPTER 41...Burnie Hospital & Luke...Monday morning Hospital routine carried on as usual, except for the highly unusual presence of two large, uniformed young policemen, one seated outside a double room on the s econd floor, while the other was permanently inside. The outside guard checked all staff coming close, while the inside one hovered closely over each nurse who came to do the hourly obs of the two semi-comatose patients.