BIRD OF PREY
CHAPTER ONE
Gary parked his bicycle on the bridge and threw stones into the still water below. It was getting hot and he hoped Michael would be along soon. They had talked about riding along the river track that skirted the mangroves passing an old fishing shack. Local gossip at school was that some cranky bloke lived there and yelled at anyone who ventured too close. Gary didn’t care. His dad yelled all the time at him. He was used to it.
Dust rose as another bike skidded to a halt next to him. The usual greetings were exchanged that young teenagers used and without discussing where to go they just did. The heat would be unpleasant for riding in a couple of hours and Gary wondered about a swim. Where the tidal river was blocked by some rocks, water flowed down from above and they had waded here before. They reached the old shack and kept going. No one challenged them as they rode past and soon they were in a leafy section of forest as the track meandered about. They stopped when a wallaby jumped out and just as quickly disappeared, then decided to go through a thicket onto the creek.
There was a small grassy area and two large lizards were feeding on something in the grass. They turned their heads when the bikes appeared then scurried off to ascend a tree. The boys headed for the water but Gary looked over at what the lizards had been eating and thought it was a large kangaroo. “Look Michael. Some dead ‘roo over there.” They took some steps towards it and then stopped. Kangaroos did not have arms and legs or wear clothes. For a few seconds they just stared then whilst Michael heaved his insides up, Gary used a word or two his mum would not approve of. Then they high tailed it out of there.
Peter Bradshaw followed the constable as they alighted from the 4x4 and walked down to the creek. It was hot and he wished he was in his swimming pool. But he wasn’t and he would have to do some work instead. Three other police and a man in white overalls were already there. He put on some overshoes and gloves that were offered and sauntered towards the body he could see. It looked a mess. There was blood and strips of dried flesh every where. Obviously the local animals had been feeding.
“Hello Frederick,” he said to the man in white overalls. “Definitely dead?” It could have been a statement but either way it was the same result.
“Peter, your perception is amazing. Yes, he is dead. A day or so by the looks. Can’t find the cause by looking so it may be just natural causes but more should be revealed back at the mortuary.” Peter nodded and decided that to keep his lunch he should look around. There were no nice pieces of evidence apparent, even though the others had fossicked about and it would probably be some poor person who just came for a walk and had a heart attack or something. A question to no one in particular confirmed that there was no wallet and no car or house keys. This was unusual and it was looking suspiciously like robbery. The deceased was turned and slid into a bag before being lifted. Bradshaw looked at the ground and something caught his eye next to where the body lad lain. It wasn’t obvious at first but had been exposed by the boot of one of the constables as they lifted. He picked it up and would have chucked it away. Just a very small plastic ring that had split in two. There was a marking that looked like a star and the letters ‘AND’ but that was all. Whatever else there may have been to this was missing and although he looked about, nothing was recovered. He pocketed it and with the thumbs up sign, they departed after some tape was put around the site. Always a precaution until they confirmed the cause of death. Peter Bradshaw hoped he would not have to come back. Holidays were due and he had booked a trip to the Sunshine Coast. Five glorious days just with sand and sun and cold beers and hopefully some nice female bodies to admire as he soaked it all up.
Back along the fire trail and almost unnoticeable for it was off in some bushes, he saw the back of a station wagon and he motioned the constable driving to pull up. Bradshaw walked to the vehicle and had a look. It was in tact and was locked. The others had followed him.
“Think it’s his?” The young officer had put his hands on the window to gaze in. The inspector groaned inwardly. “Hands constable,” came out rather loudly. The junior realised his transgression and jumped back. “Sorry sir.”
“Someone check the rego and lets just look about.” He thought it may not be related but then you never knew.
“Sir.” It was the clumsy constable, now with a gleam, probably hoping to redeem some credit points. “ Keys. On the ground behind the front wheel.” This time he was definitely not touching them. They were bagged just as the radio gave them the registered owner’s details.
“Gerald Fullbright. Local address.” Peter made a note of it then asked for someone to wait by the car until he heard otherwise. If Gerald came to retrieve his vehicle, he couldn’t. Then they left. It was getting on but the inspector thought he could at least check out the local address. Fingerprints would be taken but it was only a slim chance they would be on file. He had sent a constable to check the old shack but it was empty and seemed disused.
The house was at the end of a quiet lane with lots of bushes and fifty metres or so past any other residence. He heard kids playing back there but nothing from this address. He knocked twice then walked around the place. Windows locked and all serene. There was a big bird aviary at the rear but it was empty. Unlocked and no seed or water. Peter decided to try the kids up the road.
He knocked on a door and a middle aged woman answered. “Yes?” Yelling from children echoed from the rear. He introduced himself and enquired about her neighbour. “Mr. Fullbright? Lives alone I think. Writes and likes birds. Trevor said he had a hawk once in the cage but now I don’t know. There’s a lady who comes every couple of days or whatever. Middle aged.”
“Friend? Relative?”
“ Don’t know but she had a vacuum cleaner one day. Might be a cleaner. “ She turned to the inside and yelled. “Trevor.” A ten year old appeared with mud on his face. “Trevor, you saw that woman once who comes next door. Where was it?”
He looked at the stranger and then at his mum, then back to the inspector. “In the library. Stacking books.”
Peter thanked them and left. The library was closed by now so he went back to the station and rang the council. Eventually he got the Librarian’s number and spoke to her at home. From this call he got the name of the assistant and decided to call around. There was a light on and he felt maybe something might get done tonight.
“Sit down inspector. Just home so you can have tea. Yes I clean for Gerald. Saw him four days back.” She identified the car’s description but didn’t have a clue where he would be. “Normally home each night but he did go to conferences. On birds.” After a nice cup of black tea, he asked her if she minded going with him to the house for a quick look about, which she didn’t. She opened the front door and put on the light and he asked her to wait in the sitting room whilst he did a quick tour. There was no one and nothing unusual. He looked about his work desk and noted a brochure on a conference and a letter from some Ornithological Society. He took the details down.
Finding nothing out of the ordinary, other than someone who should be home and wasn’t, he rang the station. They reminded him about the man stationed at the car. ‘Just wanting to get home’, he thought and then he thought about the mosquitoes that must be out there. Still they could work a bit longer. He requested a full length photograph to be brought down to the house. Now he would have a cuppa whilst waiting.
Elsie, that was her name, recognised the clothes. She had picked them up often enough and washed them from time to time. The inspector carefully hid the mangled head when showing her. He offered a female constable to come over for a while but she said she could handle it. He doubted if any one could handle death easily. Now he had a name to his victim, which could be confirmed more easily. He also had to move a bit more expeditiously as it would be public knowledge as soon as Elsie had composed herself.
He told the constable to get back and organise a perimeter around the car and ask Division for a command vehicle and back up. At first light they would sweep in detail for clues and examine the car. He would go home and sleep however. The alarm was set for five AM.
Next morning he went straight to the car and started to potter about. They had just started and as yet found nothing. Birds were noisy and the day looked promising. Even a frantic wallaby dashed past as he turned off the main road. A side trip back to the site where they found the body, yielded nothing more except animal and bird activity. Technically it was not yet foul play until he had a cause of death, but he knew. Felt it in his bones. It looked like the Sunshine Coast may be a little delayed. His mobile phone started annoying him with its ring but he had to answer it. You couldn’t work these days without it annoying you. It was the doctor down at the hospital.
“Think you should come over.”
“Right.” That was all Peter said. All he needed to say. It was the sinking feeling in his stomach that told him this was not going to be a good day.
He hoped the body would be covered but it wasn’t. Not that he had a problem with deceased persons, just that it meant someone wouldn’t be home for dinner. Mangled bits didn’t help either. “Well Frederick, tell me it was a heart attack or snake bite.”
“Wish I could, but not this time. Trauma was severe. His head and upper parts were literally ripped to pieces and one eye has disappeared, the other I found in his shirt. Not an animal or goanna to my knowledge. I am still not sure but whatever it was, knew it’s job. Shock and loss of blood killed him within minutes I would say.”
Peter winced and thought about it. “Guess?”
“I’d put my money on ripping talons. A bird of prey, eagle maybe.”
“One with a dislike for humans obviously.”
The doctor covered the form that was Trevor Fullbright. “Want me to get someone from the zoo or museum down?”
“Probably need to. The coroner usually likes to know cause of death. Misadventure. Could still be a one off attack by some big bird. Protecting its babies.” But he knew it wouldn’t be that cut and dried. An inner sense told him man had a hand in this. Time would reveal all. If there was time allowed.
Nothing came with the new search of the crime scene or Fullbright’s house but as the media was getting on the band wagon, he remembered a brochure on the victim’s desk. It was a printed programme for a conference last week on birds or some related topic. A trip back to the house and he found the item still untouched. On the surface not a clue, but he felt it could be a start. The organiser was some north Queensland ornithological society and it was three days at Port Douglas. Visions of sun and sand came floating back to Peter and he thought about the holiday he had promised himself.
Back at the station, he did some searching and found a telephone number for the society. He rang it and was told the president and secretary were in America for a symposium on endangered petrels. Then they were going to Norway for another one. He thought only birds were migratory, but it seemed the devotees were also. However the co-ordinator was still in Australia. When he was told that she was holidaying after the conference at the same hotel, he felt the sand and surf could wait no longer.
CHAPTER TWO
The plane touched down at Cairns International Airport and the hot air hit him with a blow as he stepped out. Still it was all in the name of science he thought. The bus to Port Douglas was comfortable and cool and the scenery was magnificent. Two hours later he found himself outside the Outrigger in the Village. These bird people certainly lived a good life, he told himself. He had a booking for two nights but whether he would need two nights was unknown. He liked to stay focussed and move on to each aspect of case as soon as he could. After a shower and some coffee, he asked for Mrs. Broane and was directed to the garden where he found people relaxing in the shade and taking in the view with a suitable drink. An attendant pointed her out and he introduced himself. She was not what he expected. Actually he was not sure what he expected but a vision of a spinster with white hair and surrounded by bird books did come to mind. She was actually younger, mid forties he guessed and well proportioned. Her casual outfit showed off her body to advantage without being ostentatious. No bird books either.
“What can I do for you, Inspector? Sit down and get yourself a drink.” He did. He also decided a beer would be in the course of duty, at least in this climate.
“You’re on holidays I take it. The bird society told me you are the only species from that society left in this country so I flew up, pardon the pun, for some information. Sorry to be a bit over the top but I really should be on holiday too but work dictates.”
She smiled. “A sense of humour is a good asset. If it’s information on birds, you could have tried the library.”
“Now we are equal. No, it’s about the conference last week and perhaps one of its participants.”
She raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
“The conference. What was it on?”
“Well, it was to do with killing inspector. Birds of prey. Eagles, falcons, hawks and so on. Maybe that is why you are interested. Killing?”
“Maybe. Anything unusual happen.?”
She signalled a waiter for another drink then looked at him. “Not really. Boring to tell you the truth. Simmons dominated it as usual. Something overbearing in that man. Usual stuff. Gerald was the only ray of hope and then that all fell through. Glad it ended. Much better looking at the suntanned men around the pool.”
“Tell me about Gerald Fullbright.”
She stiffened and looked hard at him. “You know Gerald?”
“We have met. Sadly I never got to speak to him. That is why I am here. Gerald died a few days ago.”
She stood up then sat down again, and looked shaken. “What? How? I mean he was only here last week. He wasn’t ill or anything.” She finished her drink in one gulp. He was going to say something, but she started talking again, so being the good policeman he was, he just let it continue. He could learn something.
“You should know that Gerald and I were close friends. No, more than that. We were good for each other. We would watch for spotted something or other for hours then come back and have a good red and make love. We should have stayed together but this conference…” She lapsed into a silence as her mind thought about other times.
“What happened this conference?”
She blew her nose for a long time but he knew it was to cover her shock. “Second day here we had words. Simmons was the cause. He has been chasing me and came on to me in the hallway. Don’t you know it but Gerald appeared and got the wrong impression. Normally he would take what I said as the truth and that would have been that, but I handled it badly and he had something else on his mind when he arrived. Didn’t say what, but it was to do with Simmons. Not me, or it could have been. I felt it was more to do with those bloody show birds Simmons used to breed.” She started crying and he offered his handkerchief.
“Sorry Inspector. We never did resolve it. We argued and ended the conference without even saying goodbye. I was hoping he would get over it. So you see my holiday got off to a bad start, but I was determined to have a good time and mend bridges later.” She started crying again and stood up. “Please excuse me. Meet me in the bistro at six. I should be a little more in control.” Then she was gone.
Peter Bradshaw had seen grieving ladies many times before, and often it was a front, but not this time. He felt she was shocked. Anyway, she was here and Gerald got topped thousands of kilometres away. And by a bird.
She was waiting when he arrived. They took a table and selected the meals and he got the drinks. At first she ate then halfway through the meal she asked him. “How did he die?”
“To be honest, we are not sure. Best finish eating then we can talk.”
She shook her head. “Tell me.” He told her with no punches pulled. She was taken back but finished her meal and her drink. “Why would a bird do that? If it was a bird. The fact that you are here probably means it was not a natural misadventure.”
He looked at her. “We’re not sure but we have the feeling it was deliberate. How? That is the question. Since you know about birds and such, would it be possible for someone to control this? I mean organise birds with big claws and beaks to attack a specific person?”
He could see her thinking about it. Then she nodded slowly. “In the Middle Ages, Inspector, hawks were used to maim opponents and kill if possible. Wounds would kill a victim anyway as there was little medical help available then. Today it is unheard of. But there was something Gerald said to me recently. He felt someone was illegally keeping prey birds and training them. He didn’t say who or where but it concerned him. We bird lovers have a standing in the community and that sort of thing gets the wrong publicity.”
“Simmons?”
“I don’t know. Gerald had a thing about the beauty and loving nature of birds. That dark side was against his ideals.”
“Where does Simmons live? I have to start somewhere.”
She told him the information then shook her head. “Even if you found a cage of savage eagles, inspector, how could you ever know it was them or even prove it in court? I want you to succeed. Anything to help Gerald I will do. There’s a fellow named Blake somewhere in Coffs Harbour who used to train peregrine falcons. Rumour has it he used them to wipe out racing pigeons for sport and some farmers complained they had taken a lamb or two.”
“Nice hobby. No one else? What about Simmons?”
“Simmons is a lorikeet man. Still any bird of the human species was of interest to him. Story was he was sunbaking nude one day and this seagull landed on his old fellow. He thought all his Christmases had come at once. Probably did.” She laughed. It was the first time she had smiled since finding out about Gerald. “I need a swim. The heat does get a little much, even at night.”
Peter thought she was strong, despite the pain. He stood up. “Good idea. I think there is little more I can ask but if you ever think of anything, please call me.” He passed a business card over to her and he watched it slip into her handbag. She didn’t glance at it. This could mean she was wanting to keep the realisation of Gerald at arms length, for now, or she was one cool lady.
It was a warm evening and after taking in the view of the Coral Sea from the dining room balcony, he went up and changed into his swim togs and went looking for the pool. He may as well have at least one swim whilst he was in the tropics, and he was curious to see how she looked in bathing attire. She was there, swimming slowly up and down. He sat by the side.
“Don’t look at it, just slip in to the water and really enjoy it.” Her words seem to echo a little on the building wall. He smiled and did just that. It was not cold, just mildly warm and he realised the sun up here would do that. He swam for a bit then decided to do the lap, but had to give up near the end. He was just out of practice. When he glanced back, she was sitting on the deck chair in a robe. He swam slowly back and got out to retrieve his towel. “Nice in,” he said.
“It is. Inspector, I did think of something so this could save me ringing you.” ‘Pity’ he thought but kept the word to himself. “Yes?”
“It was a function about six months back. Gerald was there and Simmons was quite his usual self. He made a pass at me and when I didn’t respond, he became more aggressive. Gerald was standing with me and just tipped his drink over the man’s shirt and pants. I was proud of him that night.”
“And what was Simmon’s reaction? As expected?”
“Not pleased Jan! He was angry and would have become physical but Gerald grabbed my arm and we walked away. Yelled something about we wouldn’t live past one day if we went to New Zealand.”
“Meaning?”
She shrugged her shoulders, which still glistened from the water. In this temperature one didn’t need to towel down to keep warm. “I think he comes from there originally. I heard that he had a mother or aunt still there. Some property scandal was another rumour. One shouldn’t believe in rumours, should they? Only the facts.”
“Very true Mrs.Broane. Still a policeman should have an open mind. Most stories are based on some fact or other.”
She got up and extended her hand. “Well goodnight Inspector and have good flight back. More importantly, succeed in your task.” He took it and felt a finality in their meeting.
“Is there a first name? Mine is Peter.”
“There is. Kaye.” Then she walked off and around a corner and was gone. Peter smiled to himself and decided that just meeting her had been worth it. Tomorrow he would make some phone calls and head for Coffs Harbour. Time to get active before the bird flew the coop.
CHAPTER THREE
The phone calls got some wheels in motion and he hoped the one to New Zealand might yield something on this Simmons. He had no proof that it could be him, just a gut feeling. If it was confirmed Simmons did get on the plane and was in the United States, it meant he was back to square one in finding a suspect. Maybe all this was just an accident anyway. Still.
It was still hot and sticky when he got off the small plane at Coffs Harbour and picked up his hire car. Thank goodness for air conditioning. Back home at Airlie Bay on the south coast, humidity was rare. He drove out of town and followed the directions to a turn off. A gravel road left the highway and seeing a man pruning some tree or bush nearby, he stopped to confirm he was on track.
“Blake. Reg Blake. Yes, go up the road about a K. Red roofed place. Painted that when he come years back. We were on the show society together but he isn’t now. After this hawk business, he didn’t get voted back in.”
“Hawk business?”
“He kept gosh hawks and the like. Used to see them circling up there. Some farmer lost a cattle dog pup then a lamb was found mutilated and it was on for young and old. RSPCA told him to get rid of them and he didn’t and then the council got agro and so on. They are gone now”
Bradshaw thanked him and drove up the road. The roof was obvious and so was the big aviary at the side. A man came out on to the veranda as he pulled up.
“You’re a lawyer, aren’t ya?”
“No Mr. Blake. I’m not as bad as that. Just a policeman.”
“Birds are gone so you can’t arrest them.”
Peter put up his hands in mock protest. “Wasn’t going to. Can I sit down?”
He was motioned to a none too clean stool and then he had time to observe his host closer. Not an older man as he suspected but not young either. About forty five and roughly dressed but he had a bearing about him. A man who would be confronted with adversity but would take it with some dignity. He told him about Fullbright and hoped this direct approach might yield a direct answer.
“No. My hawks would have never done that. Didn’t even know the bloke. Anyway the RSPCA came and took them away. Sorry I can’t help. Sorry about the bloke. Sure it was a bird? I mean birds don’t kill people. Well cassowaries do. But they only live up in Cape York and that’s all exaggerated by the media.”
“Tell me about your birds.”
He sniffled a bit and looked out across the paddock which fronted his place. “They was good birds. You know they are hunting birds but except for mice and the like, they wouldn’t attack anything unless it was….well you know. Certainly not big things. I never encouraged them. Couldn’t.”
The conversation petered out after that and Peter thanked him, got back into his car and drove off. He turned to wave but Blake was looking up at the sky. The trip into Coffs Harbour was quick and Peter found a takeaway. Whilst there he made some calls on his mobile phone and got a couple of replies back before he had drunk his coffee.
The Animal Park was just north of town. Zoo he noticed on the sign. The former sounded more politically correct to him. He sought out the manager and was shown the birds in question. “As you can see, we took them in from the RSPCA fellow and they get looked after. Helps our business too.” Harry, the manager, seemed a genuine sort of fellow.
The inspector was just about to leave when something occurred to him. He looked at the birds again to be sure. “ Harry. I see three birds. The RSPCA told me they took four away. Do you have another one somewhere else.”
“Oh. I didn’t mention that cause it didn’t seem important. The mix of sexes was wrong and we didn’t have a spare cage. They were fighting. You know. Birds are territorial and protect their partners. Bit like us humans. Anyway we had to move one on.”
“Move it on?”
“Give it to someone else. We advertised on the net and this private collector seemed the best at the time. Not too many offers. Hawks are a problem being so aggressive and unattractive. He was licensed. Why are the police interested?”
Peter smiled and put up his hands in mock despair. “Paperwork. In case there is a court case but I doubt it. Better give me the details of this fellow anyway. Did he pick it up from here?”
“Let me think. Not him. Sent a carrier. Small van with a suitable cage.” He gave him the date and the other details and went to answer the phone. Peter waved and left. He had not much time before the afternoon flight to Sydney.
Back in Sydney he made more phone calls and found out a museum curator was on their way to see Fullbright’s body. It would have to be released for burial in the next day or two. He caught a train from the airport and changed for Penrith. It took two hours with bad connections and he introduced himself to the local commander of the CID squad who offered him a uniformed man and a car. The private collector of birds, namely one with a new hawk, gave his address of business as about 25km south of town. It was a nice day, what was left of it and the younger policeman was chatty. The inspector’s mobile rang and he took the message. Most interesting, he thought. It was in response to an enquiry to the New Zealand authorities. ‘Most interesting,’ he thought. They found the property in a gravel road that serviced four other properties. Most seem to run horses but the place they were after, Sunnygrove Animal Logistics, didn’t have the feel of horses. In fact nothing at all, more neglect. The garbage bins were all out in the road and the council truck was not far behind the police car.
“Right constable. Lets walk around and check for intruders.”
The younger man smiled. “Yes sir. Can’t be too careful these days.” The noise of the bin truck came to their ears as it entered the road and started on the first bin. Peter was a dozen steps up the drive when he suddenly wheeled around and ran back to the gate. The constable was instantly alarmed and loosened his pistol. Then he relaxed as he saw the inspector grab the garbage bin just as the truck pulled up. The truck was waved on and the bin was then tipped over in the roadway by the inspector. The truck drove away, driver scratching his head.
Already the inspector was sifting through the small amount of garbage remains. “Public property out here.” The constable nodded in agreement. Into a large evidence bag he put some pieces. Cigarette butts; a screwed up letter and an invoice; some packaging and a few small electronic components and some food containers. The milk carton had just expired so that meant some one had been here recently. They walked around the house and back sheds but it had the air of dereliction. There was a large bird cage, empty, and some recent bird droppings were bagged. Although he could not use fingerprints taken on the property as evidence until he had a search warrant, it didn’t stop him from taking a couple on the bird cage and the shed door, ‘to assist the enquiry’ as he put it to the other man.
“Anything in the bin of interest?”
“Very much so. An invoice to this address for electronics from the USA and an empty wallet. Most of all, a letter addressed to a disgruntled lover, who suddenly becomes a person of great interest. Our Mr. Simmons is back in the picture. Why here though? We will have to find out more about this property and it’s owner.”
The picture was starting to take shape but at the same time becoming more confused. Peter Bradshaw made another call to his office then they went back to Penrith. His local driver arrived two hours later and they headed south. Tomorrow he might have some answers or might not, but he wanted another look at the scene.
CHAPTER FOUR
Next morning he took a man and went to look at the area where Fullbright was found. The missing wallet had made him curious and he wondered if the wallet retrieved from the bin could be the same. Probably not but then you never knew. A search turned up nothing new around the site except two brown bird feathers. All he needed now was bird to match them to. He knew that was impossible. As they drove out he stopped the car at the old shack and walked around it. Nothing caught his eye except dirt and cobwebs and animal droppings. Not to mention pigeon poo. As he went to walk around the front again, he saw three cigarette butts in long grass. A smile came across his face. More diligent searching rewarded something even better. Blown by the wind it had escaped immediate attention before and would have now, except it was a piece of packaging. Small and with no identifying marks. But he knew exactly what to match it to. Then a soiled tissue that had blown under a small log and was quite dry. Just rubbish but who knows. He would run out of evidence bags if he was not careful.