Copy write ©
By Jimmy Brook. A work of fiction.
WOOL ON THE PLAIN
Chapter One
The western plains may be flat and thereby ideal to run sheep, but they are miserable when the cold winter winds come sweeping in without mercy. Mobs of sheep huddled in small groups, their backs to the wind. In towns, people spent the minimum time they needed facing the biting cold. Most were happy to be in doors. One woman, Nancy, had braved the chilly conditions and gone to the shops. This day she wished she had not. Whilst in the supermarket of this small but seemingly prosperous town, she overheard two women talking near the bread shelves. They had their backs to her but she heard. “Fancy that young man, what’s his name? (Bob chipped in the other). Yes that’s it. I always knew that Marion was a teaser. And him with that new wife of his, you’d think he would behave himself.” There was more but Nancy was not listening. Her head was spinning and she slipped around into the next aisle and knocked a display carton over. Grabbing her bag she left the store without her purchases and walked quickly home. Almost ran home, one would say.
The tears flowed as she sat at the kitchen table. She and Bob had only recently moved to the town. Only recently got married too. He was a shearer and rousabout and when offered a job at Milo Station, he grabbed it. They got a cheap rent on an old house at the edge of town and were ready to face life together. A double bonus for them was that Nancy’s sister Irene, lived about five kilometres away on a small place. This gave them someone to call on if they needed. Her mother thought the marriage was doomed from the start and told her so, or in so many words, but to Nancy, her new husband was all she wanted and life looked good. Not easy, but good. She needed a cuppa and then would come right out with it when he came in that night.
Bob walked in and hung his coat. “Cold wind today made it just miserable outside. Still I kept warm. Where are you sweetie?” he walked into the small kitchen and saw her sitting, just staring into space. “What’s up?”
“Bob. Who’s Marion?”
“Don’t know what you mean. Marion who? Haven’t been here long enough to know anyone.”
She looked at him and he knew something was up. Her eyes told him. Not with standing the faint red rims around them. “You know who I mean. It’s all over town. You and her. How could you? What more can I do to make you want me?” She burst out into tears. Bob came to put his hand around her but she shrugged it off.
“Who’s been filling your head. All rubbish.” He was out of his depth and started to get agitated. “All lies. There is no Mary or Marion or whoever she is.”
She got up. “I don’t believe you. People are talking about it. Get your own dinner and sleep on the lounge. I’m going to bed.” She turned and flounced out. He heard the bedroom door slam.
Bob stormed down to the door and pounded on it. “Nancy, open this door.” There was no reply. He thought of kicking it in, but realised they could lose the house if they damaged it. He went back to the kitchen and poured a drink of whiskey. After two more, he stuffed some bread down and lay on the lounge. Sleep took a long time coming.
Friday morning appeared with a wispy red sunrise. Bob got up and had a wash. There was no sign of his wife so he knocked on the door, but still no answer. He had a job to go to, so rugging himself up, he left the house and drove the old Falcon ute they had managed to buy for a song, out to Miles Station.
Nancy had got up early and hearing the snores of her husband from the lounge, quietly dressed and left the house. She didn’t know what she should do but thought her sister would understand. They had been close always and she could help her sort out what was best. She slipped out of the front door and walked quickly down the street. At the old Ampol garage she stopped next to fence post and just cried. Why was she so unsure of herself? Then she just turned around and walked slowly back all the while feeling guilty. Support was what she needed to give, not abuse. Turning into the house she stopped but already knew she was too late. The ute was gone and realised he had already gone off to the Miles property. Going inside she again felt confused so scribbling a note to say she was going to Merles for a day or two, and to ring when he got back. She left it on the table and started back to the garage where there was a bus stop. Merle only lived about five kilometres away, at a small town near the railway line. Already clouds were appearing in the sky heralding some change. Maybe some rain. Small chance she thought. It was about a half hour wait but finally the bus came that ran from their town and did a circuit of small locations including where her sister lived.
By next morning and a long talk to Merle, there was still no phone call, so her sister gave her a lift back to the house. Inside the note was still there. His clothes were there and nothing to say he had come back. No vehicle either. Merle gave her a hug and the told her it would be all right by tea time, then left on business she had to do. Nancy was feeling lost and unhappy. Fancy not believing her husband. Suddenly she grabbed the telephone and finding the number in her cook book cover, rang Miles Station. The manager told her that Bob had not turned up for work this morning and she made some excuse that he was not well and would ring later. Now that feeling in her stomach was not good. Where was he?
They had two or three friends in town they were close to, through cards and other interests, and none had seen him. Now she was lying to them whilst trying to keep her voice calm and even. The next call was to the police. The desk sergeant was all ears but not very helpful. They had the festival coming up and were short staffed as it was. He would be sure to turn up, she was told, and to wait until tomorrow. These things always sorted themselves out.
The desk sergeant was in his job because he loved it and in it long enough to have a feeling about what happened around him and in this town. He rang the manager at the Miles place whom he knew from way back and confirmed the absence and a bit about the character of the person missing. As his superior was reading some reports, he went in and broached the subject of his worry. Always a good team, his boss scratched his head then picked up the phone and rang Area Command. And hour later they rang back to say a DI down in Newcastle was interested coming out for a few days to have a look around. He and an offsider would be up tomorrow. The local policeman knew that the chance to visit the festival would have been an incentive, so if there was no problem, then they wouldn’t be too disappointed in the journey.
Chapter Two
DI Peter Hanson was known in the force as a competent and keen officer. He was also quite approachable and had a fair sense of seeing the correct things happened. Not so much as to the letter of the law but more to getting a fair outcome. His DS was young Jase, short for Jason, Williams, who like his assignment and his boss, and one day would be in that position. They arrived about lunch time, and after booking into the recommended hotel, took a quick bite then headed to the police station, to introduce themselves and get acquainted with the situation, if any. Nancy Rawlins had rung earlier for any progress but that was all. They decided to go out to the house and after getting directions, parked outside and were soon shown in. Hanson could see she was upset and sort of hoped it was a husband who had got angry and was now sleeping it off. It could also not be the case. Other than the friends they knew and the hotel he usually drank at, there was little to go on. One of the friends was a good mate, said Nancy, and so they would visit him first. Harry worked in the produce store and was surprised about him disappearing. As far as he could see, the marriage was sound and working, and no hint of any woman on the scene. Yes, Bob was an average bloke, liked to eye off the ladies but never been known to go any further. He idolised Nancy.
The other two friends were not at home so they would be spoken to later. Now was the time to take a trip out to the sheep property. Driving about the country at night was not ideal. Jase liked the paddocks that had sheep grazing. His uncle owned a small farm in Victoria and it was always good to visit him. “I suppose it’s not easy to get work in a smaller town, is it boss? It’s who you know that does it.”
Hanson grunted. “Not always. But you do have more difficulty. My wife..” but the sentence was cut short as Jase said “Turn here. Miles Station. Merino Fine Breeds…” the rest of the sign now out of view. They soon pulled up at the main house where a sprightly but mature man came to stand on the porch and eye them off.
After introductions, and an invitation to sit on the veranda for a cuppa, there was little the owner could add. Most unusual for young Rawlins to not keep him informed. Good worker, fitted in well and not much more to add. Just then a young lady joined them. “Hello. I’m Cynthia, dad’s daughter.” Her father motioned to a spare seat and briefly filled her in. DI Hanson couldn’t help noticing that she was eyeing off his offsider. “How well did you, I mean do you know, Mr. Rawlins?”
She gave smile and rolled her eyes, sneaking in another sly look at Jase. “Well, Bob” there was emphasis on the name “was likeable. Good looker to be honest. Loved to chat, and before you ask, no, nothing between us. I knew he was married and that was that.”
The owner just shook his head and asked the detectives if they wanted to look around. They did the tour with Cynthia conveniently next to Jase most of the time. Hanson wondered if Jase’s girlfriend would be so pleased if she was a fly on the wall. And there were plenty of those about. “Nice girl,” said the inspector as they drove back. More to note his offsider’s reaction.
“Not bad,” the other replied. “Might have to come back for some more questions.” He noted his boss’s sideway glance. “Perhaps not.”
Back in town they located another mate of Bob who only confirmed the opinion that he was not a wanderer and his marriage appeared good. At the police station there was no news so the two detectives decided to head to the hotel the missing man used to like drinking at and see if they could get any more clues. The manager, Barry, knew him slightly and remembered the Holden ute he drove, by the big bull bar with tape on it. Normally he parked at the side near the water tank. Barry called the bar assistant over and she remembered him in two days back. The inspector was quick to note that this was the day he didn’t come home. Maybe something or not. As they were leaving, she yelled out to him, that come to think of it, he was talking to a man and whilst she could not be sure, thought Bob sought him out.
“Bit hazy and all with the crowd in. It was a busy rush. Gee whizz. His body language seemed to say he was not happy in seeing him. You get a feel.”
“Did they leave together?” The DI was curious.
“They left but not together, because the other man was still there for a couple of minutes, alone. Then he came over and banged his glass on the counter and walked out. It was the banging down of his empty that made me take notice. Most patrons leave them on the table they have drunk at.”
Despite the temptation, and the anticipation in his junior’s eyes, he needed to focus. “Not time to relax yet, Jase. “Let’s go outside and have a look at the car parking set up.” Nothing unusual, just a large empty space you drove off the street into and parked. Sealed even. Then Hanson caught sight of the bank opposite the hotel. There was a camera but it faced the ATM. However it jogged his memory and he cursed for not thinking of it. “Back inside. We forgot about any CCTV.” Jase thought about the wording, ‘we forgot’ but kept his mouth closed.
Inside they found Barry stacking washed glasses. “Oh. Forgot about that thing. Go in the office and I’ll join you in a bit.” They sat in a small room with lots of junk. Well Hansen sat as there was only one spare chair. Barry came in a couple of minutes later and opening a cupboard, they saw a recording machine and two or three VHS tapes in a stack. Some wires disappeared out the back.
Barry talked to himself as he picked out a tape of the stack and putting it in the machine, started to play it. However whilst it was of the side carpark it was badly positioned and took no video of any of the cars. “Must get that sorted with the owner,” he said. “However there is one of the bar area. We had to have one for insurance and such.” He put another tape in the machine and fast forwarded it to a spot where he let it play in real time. “There,” he half shouted. “Brilliant”, said the DI. Freezing the frame, they saw both men talking but with good facial image. Not only that, it was time coded. Thanking the manager, they headed back to the police station with tape in hand. The sergeant disappeared outside and came back five minutes later with a couple of prints. “Had to go to the electrical shop nearby. Lucky he was still ther this late. They printed it for me.” The other man was unknown to the local police or the DI, but it was faxed to Sydney for a match, if any.
Chapter Three
Next morning there was no further news either from Sydney, nor locally. Setting Jase to re interviewing locals that they had done yesterday, but not the wife, Hanson drove out to the Miles property. He thought the younger man might be a bit miffed about not going also, but he didn’t show any emotion. The DI hoped he had thought of his girl at home and decided to be adult about it.
The owner was in the store area when he asked a hand, and showing him the picture, just got a shake of the head. “I’ll ask some of the others.” A short walk around a couple of the buildings and workers, but no one could place him. Just then Cynthia bounced in, returning from a canter on a big piebald. “On your own inspector I see. I don’t bight.” The DI smiled. He showed her the picture. “I remember him, sort of. Came out last month I think. You were in town that day, dad.”
“On his own? Did he give a name?” The father was showing concern.
“No and no. He came with the boring contractor. Told him to come back the next day as you were away for the day.”
“I remember the contractor coming. Said he came the day before on spec.” The owner said this to the sky rather than any person. “Had him a few times for jobs when we need a tank put in for the sheep and such. Good man.”
Hanson butted in. “Miss. Did he have any contact with Bob that you remember?”
“Cynthia. And no, only spoke to me. Probably saw Bob working. He was on the gate over there. But they didn’t talk or anything.”
The DI obtained the contact details of the contractor and thanking them, drove back almost to town then turned off on a small road which ended in a group of sheds and machinery items strewn about. A barking dog heralded his arrival soon followed by a middle aged mad in dirty overalls and a cloth cap.
Explaining his quest to identify the man in the picture, the fellow screwed up his eyes and looked for a minute. “Yep. Did have a job out at the Miles place. I sent out my offsider, Mick, and a casual to check it out. Had to go again next day from memory.”
Hanson got the details of both men, including a name, and thanking him, headed back to the police station.
No news. “Jase,” said Hanson, “Cynthia said to say hello. She was looking forward to showing you the sights.”
Jase screwed up his face. “Thanks boss. Think I’ll leave that one well alone.”
A few minutes later, a phone call came from Area for the DI. The photo was identified from a man on file, but the name given was different to the one the boring contractor had been given. No surprise there. The accompanying sheet was interesting. Theft; suspected robbery; two assault convictions and two convictions for handling stolen property of which one was a painting. They could send someone up to help bring him in. Hanson told them to hold fire until he found out where he was. The DI was thinking that his missing man, Bob, could well be an accomplice but the picture painted of him in this town was not the type. Bob was missing and may well be innocent. What was the connection?
That night the sergeant invited the visitors to a couple of drinks at their hotel then it was small talk about cases and the upcoming festival. Next morning Hanson gave Nancy Rawlins a ring and told her nothing yet but they were working hard to find her husband. Her sister was visiting her each day. The purpose of the call was to let her know they were working on the case, if indeed there was a case, and to reassure her. He had a wife and knew what she may be going through.
Then the pair drove back out to Miles Station, and locating the owner, Hanson asked him if anything valuable was missing recently. “Well now that you mentioned it,” said the owner, “a silver cup for the horse races a couple of years back is gone. I never worried about it much. Just thought it was misplaced somewhere.”
“Anything else, say like a painting?” said the inspector. Just then Cynthia walked on to the veranda where they were sitting. “Did I hear a painting?’ she said. “Wait a minute whilst I check something. Want to help me?’ she said, looking at Jase.
He looked at his boss and raising his eyebrows followed the girl inside. They soon emerged, both with long faces. “Gone,” she said. “That print of the pond with red stemmed flowers and a garden seat. It used to be in the back sun room. Noticed it the other day was not there. Thought you had moved it dad.”
“No. I don’t go in there much after your mum went, but a week ago I was in there for something or other and didn’t see it. Thought you had it. Actually meant to ask you but got side tracked.”
The DI asked the owner was a print worth much, guessing only that it wouldn’t top one hundred dollars or so. He was jolted by the owner’s reply. “Actually, I’m now worried and wished I had said something sooner. It’s not a print. An original by Donny Facey in Dubbo. Cost me three thousand at the time. Anniversary present. Damn.”
“You said one day when I asked, it was a print.” Her voice was raised a little.
He looked a bit sheepish. “Didn’t want to let you think I wasted money. But it was a special gift. Your mother liked it, sort of like a Monet, he said.”
“Well if you could describe it to my sergeant, we will add that to our enquiries,” said Hanson. Jase glared at him as he followed the girl inside.
“Do you think young Rawlins has scarpered with the loot?” asked the owner.
Hanson shook his head. “Too early to tell. Doesn’t seem to be his style from what I gather.” Jase returned with a red face and said he was all done. The DI nodded and they got into the car and drove back towards town. “Problem?” said Hanson.
“She’s a sex maniac. Drawing with one hand and the other wandering where it shouldn’t. I need a cold beer.”
“Cold shower?” his boss offered.
Jase looked at him. “Beer will do. If you have to come out there again, you won’t need me, will you?”
Hanson just smiled.
Chapter Four
Back in town they went to the hotel that Rawlins used to go to and had that beer. Then the DI had a thought and they went out to the car park. He hadn’t had a good look around, not that there would be much to see. However, near the water tank, there was a small amount of red substance on the tar. Could be blood, he thought, and scraped some up into a plastic evidence bag he carried. They went back to the station and he asked the sergeant could he get an identification of it done somewhere, and if blood, the type. “Doctor’s surgery nearly opposite, Sir. You go over and I will give them a ring.”
A nurse who seemed to know what she was doing, told them to take a seat and fifteen minutes later, came out holding a vial. “B Positive, inspector. I will leave you to find the owner.” He thanked her and they went back across the road.
A devious phone call to Nancy Rawlins about wanting full particulars like scars and tattoos and spectacles and injuries and blood type (the main reason for the call) was answered with thanks and no, he added, there was no news yet, just an All Points Bulletin being issued. She actually didn’t know his blood type but suddenly remembered the mobile blood bank van came around last year, and there was a card somewhere. She located it whilst he waited. B Positive. He asked her if Bob may have known or met recently anyone new to town. Maybe someone out on the job. She couldn’t recall anyone or Bob mentioning a person either at work or elsewhere. He thanked her and hung up.
The investigating team seemed to be at a stalemate. No new leads. They spent some time in the station then took a drive about the town and district. More to relieve the boredom and see if anything came to mind. Back at the station they had hardly poured themselves a cuppa, when the phone rang and Command wanted the DI. Some nodding of the head. “Well,” he said as he hung up. “We just might be up and running again. That casual that was with the boring contractor, Dodds, or whatever name he is using, was seen in Bathurst. Better still, he is in custody. Seems two off duty blokes were having a beer and there he was. They recognised him from the bulletin and nabbed him. He was threatened with a murder charge, apparently, and he got a bit panicky. Says he knows nothing.”
“I know nothing,” the younger man chipped in with a smile.
“What?” said Hanson.
Jase thought better of it and side tracked his comic remark with a question. “Did he say anything that will help us?”
“The local DI down there says he remembered Bob. Spoke to him at the hotel and asked him was he interested in a card game. Says he went in his car to the address and me in mine. Just blokes he knew.”
Jase scratched his neck. “Risky thing to do, just go to a game when a stranger asks you.”
“Think he was still uptight about his wife and that, so just did it,” Hanson mused. “Anyway we have him in custody and an address for us to visit here. Firstly organise a warrant to search the premises and some uniform back up.”
An hour later, with both requirements, two cars pulled up at the south side of town outside a dilapidated house that needed paint and a mower. Not waiting for an answer to his request to open up, one of the policemen, kicked in the door, and they raced inside. They were carrying pistols this time. The place was empty.
Chapter Five
Not quite disappointing as they found the stolen silver cup and the painting in a cupboard. Out the back, one of the uniform policemen noticed an iron shed with a padlocked door. He alerted the detectives who prised off the hasp and staple with a spade and opened it up. In the half light they saw little at first, then the outline of something longish on an old bed. Before Hanson had even got his torch out, he knew it was a person. The light revealed a body.
It was not whom they were expecting though. It was an older man in working clothes and longish hair. A quick check told them he was not alive and starting to smell a little. There didn’t seem to be any obvious cause, just sunken eyes as though he had sensed death coming.
Phone calls quickly brought a doctor from the small hospital and the one ambulance that the small hospital in town had at their disposal. The older medic had a quick look and felt the indications leant towards it being the man’s heart. However an autopsy would be needed to establish that, or maybe something else. In the absence of obvious foul play, the DI released the body to the ambulance people and asked them to keep it somewhere cool until he had some direction from his superiors. Of the missing other man, Dodds, or whatever his real name was, there was no sign. The same applied for Bob Rawlins. Then there was the utility. Where was that?
Leaving a uniform to secure the house, the two detectives and the other policeman went back to the police station. Command would organise transport for the deceased to be taken to Newcastle, and if not natural causes, would send up two more officers to help assist. The ute had been reported by members of the public to be seen in four different locations, one as far as Coffs Harbour and one in Albury. Not much help there. And that was only after three hours from the media release. Of the descriptions given for the two men, there were no reports of any sightings. As for the dead man, no one attached to the police, seemed to know him.
Then a phone call to the police station that caused a commotion. “A smash on the Sheepwash Creek Bridge. Bad says the woman and it is a blue utility.” Two cars left in a screech of rubber in no time flat. The bridged was only about four kilometres south of town on a gravel road. When the police teams arrived, there already some locals and the ambo siren was fast approaching. The driver was still strapped in his seat belt with lots of blood on his upper body, but alive. Hanson took only a second to know it was young Rawlins. The other person, a man, had been catapulted through the windscreen and caught by his legs. There was a weak pulse but it didn’t look promising.
A local man came over after being directed by the uniform officer, and said his young son saw it all. “It was terrible,” the boy said. “I was mucking about on my bike just down the road, and I heard the car coming. Then it swerved a lot then went faster. The bend before the bridge came up and it didn’t slow but really drove fast. Bang. He lost it and it went into that grey gum.” Hanson indicated to the police officer to get his particulars and went back to the vehicle. The medics had extracted Rawlins and were loading him into the ambulance. The doctor then arrived and had a quick look mat the young man. “Lucky, I would say. Should be OK but will need to have a good look back in town. Seatbelt saved him from disaster.”
“What about the other one?” Hanson asked.
“Don’t like his chances. Spinal damage for sure. We will do our best.”
The DI instructed Jase to go back to the hospital in the ambulance and keep an eye on the two victims. After some photographs and a search of the utility, which gave forth a couple of interesting items, he told the sergeant he would go back into town and send out the remaining officer to assist. Already a tow truck had pulled up. They can smell a crash wherever they are, he thought to himself.
He drove back quickly to town and after instructing the remaining officer to go out and assist at the crash site, rang Nancy Rawlins and told her the news. He couldn’t leave the station at the moment but she was ecstatic and would make her own way to the hospital. Now he had time to reflect on the affair, not that there was much to go on. When one of the officers came back, he would go down to the cottage hospital and see if he could talk to young Rawlins. He should be able to fill in the gaps.
Apart from fending off phone calls and two complaints from off the street, time seemed to drag. Then he heard a car in the side drive and thought, good.
Jase appeared at the counter. “G’day boss. Nothing more I could do out there so what’s next? Think we could talk…” He let the sentence he was going to say, drop. Not his place to tell his superior how to run an investigation.
“Yes, that will be the next step,” and nodded with a slight smile. “However one of us needs to remain here until the troops arrive back. Mrs. Cain has lost her dog and I’m sure you can handle that.” He gave a bigger smile and then added, “Join me as soon as you are able.” He grabbed the car keys and left.
The small hospital was a one storey affair at the end of the main street and off to the left. Hanson walked in and found a nurse in the main hallway. She directed him to the ER room, and upon being seen through the glass panel, a nurse came out. He introduced himself and was shown into the room and to a bed. The doctor was taking some vitals.
“Lucky man. As I said earlier, the seat belt saved him from serious injury. Obviously they don’t save every person in a big accident. I wish they could.”
Hanson nodded at the words and went to open his mouth, but was beaten to it.
“He’ll wake up soon. Sit here and be quick with your questions when he does. His body is pretty stressed. By the way, his wife is here, just gone to the toilet I think.”
She shortly reappeared, and he could tell by her face, that she was in a bit of shock. Rising up he offered her the single chair and his hand. She didn’t say anything but nodded appreciatively and placed her hand in her husband’s. About ten minutes later, and two quick visits by a nurse, Bob Rawlins made a sound and slowly opened his eyes. Hanson held back until the wife had done what partners did and said in these situations, then he coughed lightly. She smiled at them and went outside.
“Bob. I’m Detective Inspector Hanson. Want to tell me what happened, if you are up to it?” The patient looked at him and started to speak.
Later, back at the station, the two detectives sat down with the sergeant over a cuppa, and Hanson filled them in. “Seems Dodds and his mate wanted a car and driver to make their getaway after the theft previously and managed to get one unlucky person, Rawlins, out to the car park at the side of the hotel on the pretext of a card game. When he refused, they hit him and drove back to the cottage. He was to be their ticket out of the area.”
“That accounts for the blood you found,” said the sergeant.
“Yes. Appears they waited a while and were going to take the ute and scarper, leaving Rawlins tied up. Hopefully a tip off later, in a couple of days to us or something. Anyway, as Rawlins remembers it, the older man suddenly yelled out and held his chest, then keeled over. Looks like a heart attack. Dodds must have panicked, left the body on the bed, and threatened Rawlins that he would kill him if he didn’t drive to Sydney. Didn’t put it together that we were looking for him and his vehicle. He had a pistol, which we need to find by the way.”
Jase butted in. “Know what happened? Does Rawlins remember?”
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