3 A Basis for Murder (2 page)

I shuddered at the mention of two of the world's most deadly snakes.

"Well, I’d best be off. Sorry again that I scared you."

We nodded politely, and he drove away. We were walking back to the car when another car drove in. A man got out and walked over to us before we reached Melissa's car. "Hello, ladies. A lovely day for sightseeing, isn't it?"

We agreed and went to move on, but he spoke again. "I'm Gerald Wayfield, a local historian. If you have any questions, I'd be glad to answer them."

Melissa and I looked at each other and smiled.

"I do have some questions, if you wouldn't mind," Melissa said.

He smiled and nodded. "I live just around the corner. If I see people here on my way past, I usually drive in and ask them if they have any questions."

"That's very kind of you," Melissa said. "I always heard there were lots of ghosts here and at Hillgrove, but when I looked it up on the net, I couldn't find anything."

Gerald Wakefield stroked his chin. "Well, there were individuals who went over the cliffs, and also mining accidents. There were a lot of drownings, too, so it goes to follow that there would be lots of ghosts, if you believe in that sort of thing."

I nodded. "Yes, I noticed that at the cemetery. A lot of children were drowned."

"The cemetery? Most tourists don't go there. What's your interest in Hillgrove?"

I looked hard at Gerald. On a physical level, he looked about sixty, give or take five or ten years either way. His build was wiry, and he was very pale, no doubt thanks to his wide brimmed hat which did not allow the sun to touch his features. His eyes were pale blue and glittery. On a spiritual level, I didn't pick up anything: nada, nil, zilch. That's unusual as I usually get some sort of vibe from someone. I fervently hoped he wasn't a ghost.

He was still waiting for Melissa to answer, and finally she said, "We're journalists for a paranormal magazine. I'm doing a story on Hillgrove ghosts."

He looked mildly interested. "What's the name of your magazine?"

"
Horrors and Haunts
."

I groaned inwardly when Melissa said the name. What a lame name; I always dreaded having to tell people the name of the magazine.

I need not have worried; Gerald clasped his hands in delight. "I love that magazine. I have a great interest in the occult. Here's my card; feel free to contact me. I'm only too happy to help." He reached in his pocket, drew out two business cards and handed one to each of us.

I turned it over. He seemed legit, albeit with a low budget for business cards, and at least he was not a ghost.

"Thanks," Melissa said. "I'll definitely take you up on that. You don't mind if ask you questions?"

"Not at all. It would be my pleasure." With that, he tipped his wide-rimmed hat and returned to his car.

Melissa turned to me. "That was weird. He asked us if we had any questions, but then he left pretty much straight away."

I agreed.

"Misty, would you take my camera and take some photos of the gorge, please? I'm not going anyway near the edge."

"I thought we were leaving," I said, as she handed me the camera.

"We were, but I’d forgotten to take photos, and you know that Skinny will want some."

"Okay." I walked over to the old, brick wall which served to keep tourists on the safe side of the gorge. I'm not good with heights either, but there were rocks jutting out on the other side of the wall, so it was not a sheer drop. I leaned over and took several photos. Just as I was finishing up, I saw something on a ledge below and to my left.

"Melissa," I screamed.

"I'm not coming over there; I told you," she called back.

"Melissa, there's a body, down on the rocks!"

* * *

If a cat does something, we call it instinct; if we do the same thing, for the same reason, we call it intelligence.

(Will Cuppy)

Chapter Three
.

              I had never seen a dead body before; at least not in person. I was used to watching crime shows on TV where actors were wearing special makeup, but I'd always shrugged off the visuals as if they were nothing. This, however, was an entirely different matter.

I took one more look over the brick wall that encircled the viewing platform. I scrunched up my face and turned back to Melissa.

“Are you sure it’s a dead body?” Melissa inched closer. "Oh Misty, do you think he's dead?" Her voice was trembling.

I bit my lip. "I don’t know; I think so. He's too far down to see clearly. Did you want to see for yourself?”

Melissa shook her head. “No way! Heights freak me out. Dead bodies do too, not that I’ve ever seen one.” Despite her words, she edged closer and closer towards the edge of the lookout platform.

I threw one last look over the edge at the dead body before hurrying back to the road. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. "I'm calling 000."

000 is the Australian equivalent of 911. They asked me if I wanted fire, police, or ambulance, and I told them I wanted police and ambulance. "I'm out at Bakers Creek Falls near Hillgrove, and I just saw what looks like a dead body, half way down the cliff face.” After a few minutes of explanation, I clicked off my phone and looked up at Melissa who appeared to be close to tears. “They said they're on their way, but because we're so far out in the middle of nowhere, it'll take them a while.”

Melissa sniffled. “Misty, how are we supposed to just sit around with a dead body so close to us?"

I moved back away from the road and sat down, my back braced against the brick wall that kept people from tumbling down the steep face of the cliff. Or at least it was supposed to keep people from doing that, but judging by the body that lay beneath us, it didn’t always.

Melissa shook her head slowly from side to side, turning back to the road and looking both ways along it. “It’s kind of creepy out here,” she said.

I craned my neck and looked up at the sky. It was a soft blue with hardly a cloud in it, only a handful to the north, white and fluffy and full. The sun was hanging just above the tree line to the west. “At least it’s not dark,” I said, and Melissa agreed.

The two of us sat in silence for some time. After a while, Melissa took a deep breath and then climbed to her feet. She stood in place for a moment, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and then back again. She wiped her palms on her thighs and took a deep breath. Then she stepped slowly forward. She kept doing so, putting one foot in front of the other at a snail's pace. She bent at her waist as she neared the edge of the lookout area, and she reached forward with one hand, gripping the top of the guardrail, right next to where I was sitting.

I watched as Melissa edged forward slowly, leaning out over the guardrail. I reached up and slid a finger through one of Melissa’s belt loops on her jeans, trying to make her feel more secure. Suddenly Melissa backed away from the guardrail, forcing my finger painfully from the denim loop.

“Ouch!” I said, but I didn’t complain further when I saw Melissa’s face. She was as pale as the midnight moon; all color had drained from her face. Melissa threw her hands up to cover her mouth. When she pulled them away and spoke, her voice was quiet, and I had to lean forward to hear her even though it was mostly silent in the lonely Australian bush.

“There’s a dead body,” Melissa said. "We can’t stay here."

I tried to be the voice of reason. "We have to wait for the police, and besides, the dead body can't hurt us."

Melissa grabbed my arm. "Misty, can you hear that? A car?"

A car slowly came into view. However, it was not the police who turned into the viewing platform, but the man who had stopped to talk to us briefly only earlier.

“I think it’s that historian guy, Gerald Whatsit,” Melissa said as his car approached.

The car came to a stop, and Gerald got out of his car. “Ladies, I'd only just gotten home when I heard a police call go out that there was a dead body here. Are you both all right?”

I was shocked. "You can listen to police radio? But they encrypted that some years ago."

Gerald's whole demeanor at once changed, and he narrowed his eyes at me. "I have a crypto board and a high gain directional antenna. It's necessary, living out here. So, may I ask what kind of body you found?”

“The dead kind,” Melissa said somewhat rudely.

Gerald’s eyes darkened. “I meant, is it a child, a man, a woman?"

"A man," I said. "Come and see." Gerald followed me to the viewing platform and looked over.

“Oh dear, how dreadful. And that's what's around his neck? It looks like a camera hanging by a strap. I can't see it too well."

I peered over the edge too. "Oh yes, I can almost make it out. It does look like camera."

Gerald shook his head. "That's so sad, someone being silly enough to try to take photographs from the other side of the barrier. Well, I’d better be on my way."

Gerald hurried to his car and drove away in a cloud of dust.

“He's a bit strange," Melissa said.

I simply shrugged, and did not have time to respond as we saw a police car drive up from the other direction. The car was bright purple, with the word "Police" emblazoned down each side on top of a thick, white stripe. It was followed by a big, white van that said, "Police rescue."

Melissa turned to me. "Finally!"

A tall, slender officer stepped out of the vehicle. “Hello there. Are you the ladies who reported finding a dead body in this vicinity?”

I nodded. I looked at his name tag that read,
Constable Peter Jefferson
. “He's half way down the cliff," I said, pointing over my shoulder. "I think I can make out a camera next to him.”

Three men from the white van rushed to the cliff edge and looked through binoculars. "He's definitely deceased," one of them called back to the police officer. "We won’t need the specialty casualty access team paramedics."

A young police officer hurried over and spoke to the other constable. His name tag read,
Constable Colin Kindly
. “Those cliffs are sheer straight up and down. Nothing would have slowed him down.”

“Not a good way to go,” Constable Jefferson agreed.

The young officer looked at Melissa's camera. “Have you taken photos here?"

Melissa nodded.

"I'm sorry, but we'll have to take your camera with us." His tone was firm. "It's possible you might've got something on there that would help determine what happened to the victim.”

Melissa and I exchanged glances; Skinny wasn't going to like this. “How long before I get it back?" Melissa asked.

“We'll arrange for you to have it back once we check its content for evidence.” He took the camera from her and hurried to his vehicle with it. When he returned, Constable Jefferson nodded to him, and he pulled a small notebook from his breast pocket, along with a pen. He flipped a few pages into the notebook and then held his pen at the ready. When Jefferson saw he was good to go, he spoke. "I’ll need your names, addresses, phone numbers, and dates of birth first please, ladies."

After he had collected our information, he asked, "Now, tell me how you came to be here today." He peered over the edge, and pointed his pen toward the body’s location. “That’s pretty far away from anyone up here to see without looking for it.”

I agreed. "I didn’t see it at first."

“Have either of you seen anyone else at the lookout today?

“Yes," Melissa said. "A local man named Gerald,
err
, I forget his last name."

"Wakefield," I said.

Melissa nodded.

“Gerald Wakefield," the officer repeated. "Did he stop by before or after you discovered the body?”

Melissa scratched her head. “Actually, both.”

“Both?” His brow scrunched.

“We met him before I saw the body, but not long after we called you, he came back. He gave us his business card.”

The police officer stretched out his hand to me. “May I have his business card, ma’am?”

"Sure." I handed him the card.

“He was the only other person you saw in the vicinity?”

“No, there was also a wildlife photographer named Ethan Williams. He said he's local. He was here when we arrived,” I said.

The constables nodded, and then Jefferson turned to Kindly. "We'll need the helicopter to retrieve the body."

"How can a helicopter get close enough to that cliff face?" Melissa asked.

"NSW Police are quite used to cliff retrievals," Constable Kindly said. "We have new helicopters that have auto hover autopilot technology."

Constable Jefferson spoke. "Okay, now you ladies are free to go. If you remember anything, please let us know." He took his notebook and jotted something down quickly. He tore the page out and handed it to me.

“That's the station's number and my name," he said. "If you think of anything at all, give me a call."