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CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rory never thought about whether 'eight' meant breakfast or ready to leave. He was always up early and judging by the situation and the limited time frame they had, it would be the latter. Scoffing down some eggs and toast, the Toyota Landcruiser suddenly appeared from the lane next to the hotel, with Tania behind the wheel. Throwing some money on the table and gulping a few mouthfuls of coffee down as he headed for the door, he slowed his pace as he left the premises. All part of the game, trying to be in charge whilst in second place.
"Morning." A chirpy voice greeted him. "Hope you had a better sleep than I did. Noisy place.”
"Very quiet. That's if you don't include the termites chomping away.”
"Good. We can't get inside Adrian's house, as the police would have locked it up, but we can go out and look around the mine sites. We'll try the 'Betty Rose' first. It was being worked when my father rang. I hope the fellows are still there.”
"Where is it?", asked Rory as they moved down the street.
She fiddled in her bag on the seat with one hand, and produced a folded map, which Rory took.
"It was out of date as soon as it was drawn. New roads and tracks every day. There are so many diggings, owners need a field map just to identify their claim. We're out past the 'Three Mile'.”
They passed another motel called something Opal. What caught Rory's eye was the crowd of people, mostly men, hanging around in the front yard. At first he thought it was a bus group, but as they drove past, noticed a man leave a door and immediately another, with a parcel, go in, whilst the others just appeared to look, and wait. Then the vehicle turned a corner and new scenery to be absorbed. Rory didn't comment on what he saw. He would wait. The houses and other buildings started to disappear. A glimpse of a couple of touristy opal places, then mullock heaps separated by small iron bark and butterwood trees.
Tania had been out here once before, but trying to relate the map to actual physical landscape and the myriad of tracks, was almost impossible. Then there was the dust. It billowed up in great waves, like sails on a ship catching the breeze. It seeped slowly inside despite the windows being kept shut. Imperceptible but you could feel it. Everywhere he looked, Rory saw mullock heaps and machinery, even people occasionally. Twice they stopped and asked. One ignored them and kept working, but the other said to turn at the drums. What the drums were, Tania couldn't remember, but shortly some empty fuel drums one with a painted cross, came up and they veered left. After about a kilometre a large bucket hoist and several piles of tailings.
Also a sign that said 'Betty Rose. Keep Out'.
Two vehicles were parked next to a shed and the noise of the petrol motor pulling up a bucket caught the ears. They walked over to the top of the shaft and looked down.
"Hey. What do you blokes want?" The voice came from the engine behind them. Then the bucket came up and emptied it's load as the two tracks curved at the top. Then silence as the motor was cut. They were looking at a fellow in his thirties, large beard and covered in dust.
"Like I said, what do you want? This is private land." The sound of someone climbing up the rungs of the ladder from the shaft could be heard.
"You Tony?" Tania looked him straight in the eye. The authoritarian tone of her voice made him uneasy and he glimpsed at Rory.
"Yer." Then a voice from the shaft. "Problem?”
Tania answered both at the same time. "Tania Darius. Oceanic."
Then swung to the emerging wombat. "There should be another. He still underground?”
Tony didn't answer immediately, just looked from Tania to Rory. It was the wombat who spoke.
"Thought we might be paid a visit eventually. I'm Phil. Had the police out yesterday looking for Adrian. Ken, the other bloke sort of doesn't get on with the law. Said he would be over at the Annetts brothers if he was wanted.”
Up to now Rory hadn't said a word. After all it was her show.
"You looking for Mr.Bedford?" said Tony, "he hasn't been here for days. Something happened to him? I mean the police and now you.”
The quietness was punctured by the loud cawing of a crow. Rory had decided to look at the skip haulage and the adjacent shaft. It wasn't very large in diameter and no bottom could be discerned. Only a metal ladder descending into the blackness.
"Adrian's dead," replied Tania.
Tony’s face took on a blank look. Then he shook his head and looked at his workmate. Neither spoke.
She took up the slack. "Some one shot him. We'll let the police sort that out. Until we get ourselves organised, I'd like you, Tony, to continue here.”
Tony looked at Rory who was examining the last bucket load.
"Oh, this is Rory Mason, my assistant." She raised her voice.
"Rory."
Rory heard his name and returned to the group. The lack of a command made it clear where his place was. He shook hands with both men. "Rory. Been around mining all my life, but opals is something new. You blokes seem to have it pretty well under control.”
There was no reply but their expression, however imperceptible, indicated he had made contact. None of this was lost on Tania either.
"Rory is my assistant. As he says, he knows little about opals. Know anything about the other site, Dig 44?”
Before either could reply, a flock of galahs noisily flew up from some scrub a short distance away. Rory glanced, and saw the momentary flash of light reflecting on something. His time in the jungle had tuned his senses well. Even as the others turned at his warning, he was running towards the spot, but keeping a mullock heap between him. There was the sound of a vehicle starting up and spinning wheels. A dust cloud rose up over the vegetation and hung there. Then a glimpse of the rear of a black 4X4 with two whip aerials before it was swallowed up by dirt heaps and coolabah trees. When the others joined him, it was gone from sight, only a few seconds of retreating noise was left for them.
"Get a look?" It was Phil.
Rory shook his head. "Black with two aerials. Only heard one door slam, but could have been others inside.”
"Maybe tourists or ratters. Always some one poking their nose around," ventured Tony.
It was Tania who spoke. "No tourists. Who ever it was, had an interest in us. If it was the mine, they would have stayed away until we left. No, the business of the stones and now Bedford's death brought them.”
Rory cocked an ear. "What business of the stones?”
"Let's stick to the matters at hand," dismissing his question.
"Tony, you and Phil keep bringing up the current lead and shipping into town. I can be reached at the Diggers Rest.”
Tony removed his battered hat and scratched his head. "Recon' we will dig it out in a couple of days. What then?”
There was annoyance in her reply. "Well keep looking for more. Do I have to hold your bloody hand?." Then turning on her heel, headed for the Landcruiser.
Rory raised his eyebrows at the two men in a sort of sympathy gesture. Before he had even turned, there was a command.
"Come on. Lots to do." then the sound of a door slamming.
Rory was in two frames of mind. One to let this dominant streak get to him, or accept his role he had known since the meeting in Sydney. He decided on the latter. Taking life as it came was part of his make up.
"What do you make of that?" He broke the silence after a couple of minutes.
She looked straight ahead. "There's big money riding here. People who steal opals and kill. That means money.”
"Or jealousy," he countered.
"Or a lot of things. I've seen the man thing before so just remember why your here. Back to town."
He wasn't sure what she meant by the last remark, but she may have resented his rapport with the two miners. 'Let it go'.
Then a softer voice but still staring out at the iron barks and cypresses. "Good move spotting that vehicle.”
He smiled to himself.
She directed him to stop at a tourist establishment. The signs and the buses confirmed that. He noticed the sign said 'Log Cabin Opal Shoppe'. A couple of aboriginals were sitting outside. Across the road was a sign. Something about a goat race but it was partly obscured by a parked truck.
Then she came out, the resigned look not very appealing.
"We need someone to take us out to Dig 44. He usually can help but not for a couple of hours.”
Rory's mind switched on. "Dusty Dan. He's worth a try.”
"Who?”
"Met him last night. Local character. I get the impression if he doesn't know about it, then no one does.”
"Local boozo more like it. OK, see if you can find him.”
They parked near the hotel and Tania said she would wait. "Bring six cold ones and anything edible," she added.
Even at this time of day the bar was well patronised. His initial glance around failed to locate the person he wanted, so he thought it worth a try asking the barmaid. It wasn't necessary.
Dusty Dan emerged from the rest room doorway. Rory signalled him and the old fellow made a bee line.
"Met you yesterday, didn't I. That's right. Looking for a dig I seem to remember. Betty Rose. Hot morning.”
Rory smiled. "Only if we can use your services. Now.”
"Just happens I'm between engagements. Make it a big schooner.”
Rory signalled the woman serving. "Small beer for my friend,
and any sandwiches or the like?”
"Ham and cheese left down there.”
"I'll take them."
"That size beer won't touch the sides," remarked Dan.
"Know the old saying about a bird in the hand," countered Rory.
"Just so happens I studied English. Where we going?”
Rory motioned him outside. The middy was drunk quicker than he could blink. Outside, away from the crowd, he turned to him.
"Dig 44.”
Dan cocked an eye at him. "Word is strange things happen out there. They'll be a, um, surcharge.”
"Take these sandwiches and get in the back of that Landcruiser. and be nice to the lady. She's my boss. I have to get some liquid for our lunch."
There was a gleam in Dusty Dan's eyes.
They drove west, past the motel with the same small gathering of men. "Business has been good this week," said Dan letting his eyes stay on the crowd as it receded from view.
"What exactly is going on," asked Tania. "Surely not ladies of the night, or to be more exact, day?”
Dan cocked an eye at her. "In the pecking order of things, missus, opals and grog are ahead. That's the local stock market, so to speak. Trade is brisk and more money changes hands there than probably in the Commonwealth Bank.”
"Is the wealth evenly split," asked Rory, "or is it poor miners and wealthy buyers?”
"What do you think? When it all boils down to it, it's no different in this business than most others. Turn here." The last words almost too late, and Rory heaved on the wheel, lurching the vehicle in a cloud of bull dust. Tania, who had undone her seat belt to put her satchel in the back at that coincidental moment, fell sideways on to Rory. She straightened herself, face slightly red.
"If you're into games, Mr. Mason, don't start. It's a long walk back to civilisation.”
"Blame our guide, not me. Some advance notice would be helpful.”
The country was dry. Even the trees seem to droop. Birds gave the only movement to a landscape begging to be captured in oils. And still the persistent white mole hills, the insides of this earth, rolled by. Most seemed devoid of life, but every now and again, vehicles and buildings and people. Searching for that big vein. That one big blob of colour to make it all worthwhile.
Rory knew the mining of gem opals was an individual's game. It was labour intensive and it required patience. 'Be in it to win it' was the motto of the day. Like other metals you had to work hard. He turned his head for a second to Dan.
"Any attempt at commercialising the business up here? First there's a fork ahead. Left or right?”
"Just stay on the main track.”
Rory was a little perplexed. Both seemed identical. A pot hole pulled the steering wheel slightly to the right, so he stayed on that tack. There was no comment from behind.
"Far Mr. Dusty?" It was Tania who asked the question.
"Soon. Mentioning dusty.....”
"Forget it," said Rory, pre-empting him.
Dan mumbled something about he should have stayed in town, then went quiet.
"Big mines, Dan." Rory thought a change of topic might help.
"A couple. They drown the little bloke. Glengarry had an open cut past the Six Mile. Cost a packet but it paid. Word was they got $9 million worth before it stopped. You could hear the explosion for a hundred miles. It's off limits but people go in and fossick in the mullock heaps. I'm too old to dodge the bullets. Left at that pile of tyres. Almost there.”
As Rory turned the Landcruiser onto the access track, he noticed wheel tracks. They drove down across a dry creek bed, scattering sulphur crested cockatoos and a sizeable goanna. Then a sign saying "Dig 44 Keep Out". A brand new galvanised shed and some hefty sized tailings stood next to an equally impressive derrick. A little way off another shed with a fly screened
Veranda.
They got out and stood looking. Not a sound. Even the birds had kept their presence quiet. The inevitable bush flies were also few in number.
Rory threw a can of Fosters at Dan and told him not to wander. There were wheel tracks heading for the rear building. He also saw Dan looking at the same thing. 'Not so stupid' thought Rory.
"What happened to the crew here? Do the police know?" They were walking to the nearest shed.
"Is this forty questions?," she retorted. "I have no more idea than you or the police for that matter. There were 3 workers. They had vanished when the police came out looking for Bedford, and apparently aren't in town.”
Rory glanced a couple of times at the rear building and scanned his eyes around the site. He was wondering how long ago the tracks had been left. Nothing seemed out of place. Inside, no mess to suggest a search. Everything had a layer of dust. A new electric percussion drill lay in the corner. A report log hadn't been updated for about ten days. A bin full of potch, lay on it's side at the rear. the only thing so far out of place.
"I want you to go down.”
Rory took a couple of seconds to get her meaning, and couldn't suppress a smirk.
She caught his expression. "The temptation to drive off back to town whilst you're down there is high on the agenda.”
He thought best to divert her attention from him to the job. "I'll need a light. Let's try the back shed."
She strode ahead and was inside before him. There was a scream, then nothing.
Rory was only a few seconds behind her, throwing himself through the doorway and almost barrelling Tania. A movement near the table caught his immediate attention, but the transition from light to dark meant it would be a few seconds before he could focus properly. He stood at the side of Tania and took both her shoulders with his hands, ready to drag her sideways from any attack. It came but not from where he expected. Tania brought her
elbow back, catching him in the side and knocking the air from his lungs. His hands dropped to his stomach as he gasped in pain.
"Get your bloody hands off me," she yelled. "That native girl should have finished what she started.”
"I was trying to protect you." Rory was feeling annoyed.
"From what?”
Then he remembered the movement and glanced around. The goanna flicked it's tongue in and out and hissed.
"Lizards in front and sleezes behind." Then she turned on her heel and walked out.
Rory was resigned to the fact that he couldn't win. Pakanbaru suddenly seemed more attractive. He opened the door and the large metal window cover and allowed more light to flood the room. It was much like the other. All in order and a film of dust over everything. Except the empty packet of cigarettes. There were some good clothes and boots but no work gear, in one of the lockers. Milk stood on the table, the object of the lizard's attention, but well and truly off. He went outside and headed for the Landcruiser, where Tania was eating a sandwich.
Rory was about ten metres from the vehicle, when the first shot raised the dust just in front of his feet. Then it was chaos. He galvanised himself forward and then a weave to the left. Two more shots then a third hit the vehicle. Yelling as he stooped, Tania had dropped her lunch and stood mesmerised. Lunging forward, he grabbed her and pushed her down on the ground, landing on top of her. In the closeness he smelt the perfume. That was all he had time to do, as more shots rattled around them, one hitting the windscreen and shattering it. They had luckily ended up behind a small mound of mullock. Another shot sprayed dirt onto them as it hit the top.
"What's happening," she rasped.
"Apart from being shot at, I don't know." Rory tried to look around the mound and pin point the assailant. He was forced to take cover quickly. If they could get into the transport there might be a chance, but it looked unlikely.
Then Dusty Dan's voice. "Get ready to jump in." The sound of the engine starting up brought two more shots, which missed the vehicle as it had started to reverse fairly quickly. A second later it was behind the mound and the passenger door came open.
Rory lifted Tania up and thrust her at the opening. "Hurry," he yelled, yanking the rear door open and diving in, as another shot took out the door's window. Then Dan flattened the engine and spun the wheels on full lock. At speed this probably would have flipped the Landcruiser over, but they made it. A fuel drum was tossed high in the air and a bullet came through the rear and lodged in the ceiling lining. The rough track caused the vehicle to be air borne continually, with the occupants being catapulted
in all directions.
"Don't look now," yelled Dan, "but they're after us. Rory managed to grab the door grip and looked back. Despite the dust they were throwing up, the outline of a black 4X4 chasing them was obvious.
The lack of front and rear windows had the effect of being in a wind tunnel. It didn't build up but flowed through. Unfortunately it also it took with it any thing not tied down. The noise made it difficult to talk.
"Back floor." It took a few seconds before Dan's message made sense to Rory. Wrapped in calico was a rifle. Hanging on, he pulled the wrapping off, which immediately was sucked out the rear window opening. It was only a .22 but he might be lucky, was Rory's thought. However fate dealt another card. Shooting up a small depression, the Landcruiser became quite airborne. When the front wheels finally hit home, they were turned at a small angle and the vehicle skidded sideways. Dan fought the wheel trying to right the direction, but off the track a protruding root punctured the front left tyre and it exploded. They careered into the scanty scrub, with Dan trying to bring the vehicle to a halt. The large iron bark tree came at them so fast, that in trying to avoid a head on, the tail of the vehicle smacked the tree and with a yell from Dan, they all felt the Landcruiser tilt then roll. It flipped onto it's roof and skidded to a standstill.
Thick choking dust and loss of orientation made the occupants just lay there. Dan's yell was enough warning to brace themselves. How no one was seriously injured was a miracle. Both Tania and Dan were moaning, and this galvanised Rory into action.
Quickly exiting through the side window, he still had the small rifle in his hand. Dropping it, he reached in the front door which was opened and dragged Tania out by the armpits. She started to struggle. He told her to relax, then without thinking why, kissed her. There was a moment of acceptance, then logic took over from emotions. She struggled and pushed herself to stand upright, if somewhat unsteady.
Whilst Tania's next reaction was probably to lash out and slap his face, it was never put to the test. The eerie silence that followed the crash, was broken by the sound of a vehicle pulling up on the track, some 50 metres away.
Rory instantly knew they were in trouble. Serious trouble when both front doors of the black vehicle opened. Then he remembered the rifle at his feet. Grabbing it and without checking to even see if it was loaded, aimed at the figure emerging from the left side, and pulled the trigger.
There was sound and recoil and a shattered window collapsing on the ground. Blindly he squeezed the trigger again but nothing happened. It was a single shot weapon. Half expecting to see the automatic weapon being turned on them, he instead saw both doors slam shut and the vehicle accelerate away in a spectacle of dust and wheel spinning. It's sound of retreat becoming more distant, was like a load being lifted from his shoulders.
Then Tania was standing beside him. "I ought to leave you staked on an ant hill, but you probably saved the day." Her voice was not raised, just matter of fact.
"They could come back," he replied. "I was a bit out of line.
Sorry, but it seemed the best idea to get you moving, at the time.”
"Courage under fire or something," then smiled. Suddenly a groan and they both realised that Dusty Dan was still inside. Rory crawled in and looked at the heroic driver. There was no blood apart from cuts and his eyes were open.
"That was some Empire Day celebration," he said weakly.
"Can you move your legs? Anything broken?" Rory was concerned.
Dan lifted an arm and grabbed Rory's shoulder. "Son. You're going to have to do something in a hurry for me." Rory's face now registered real apprehension. Tania had come around the other side and she looked pale when she heard this.
"What is it," replied Rory, in a quivering tone.
"The beer wasn't damaged, was it? I'm not crawling out until I've washed my insides down."