SOMEDAY SOON (52 page)

Joe soon discovered why Wilson had a
strawberry nose. When Joe started on his second beer, the sergeant
was already on his fourth and showing no sign of slowing down. The
rain was still pounding on the roof when darkness fell. Joe had
lost count of how many beers he had had and he was feeling more
than a little tipsy. But the Sergeant, who had probably consumed
twice as much, still looked as sober as a priest at a baptism.

‘You’d best stay here the night, Joe,’ Wilson
said as he uncapped another brew. ‘If the rain’s stopped by
morning, we’ll get your supplies loaded and taken out to the
harbor, then.’

‘I should get back to the boat, Sergeant.’
Joe said without any enthusiasm. ‘They’ll be expecting me.’

‘No worries. George can get the
Walrus
on the radio and tell them
you’ll be back in the morning.’

‘I don’t want to put you out.’

‘It’s no trouble.’

‘You sure you’ve got the room?’

‘Yeah, but you’ll have to spend the night in
the cell.’ The Sergeant took a long pull of beer. Then his face
broke into a wide grin. ‘But you won’t get a criminal record, mate
’

Joe laughed ‘But what if you get a customer
tonight?’

‘Only get a prisoner here once in a blue
moon. Usually it’s a blackfella who got his hands on some grog. But
we had a couple of white blokes a few days ago. They threatened to
rough up an Aboriginal girl at the dance if she didn’t go out back
of the hall and have sex with them They picked on the wrong girl.
Her father works for me as a tracker. Someone ran over here and
told us and we locked them up overnight.’

‘What did you charge them with?’ Joe asked
without much interest.

‘Nothing. It’s easier just to kick blokes
like that out of town.’

‘They weren’t locals, then?’

‘No. Just a couple of sea-tramps who walked
into town from the harbor. They were apologetic as hell when they
were sober the next morning. They were afraid I’d hold them until
the magistrate made his next monthly visit to hold court.’ Wilson
laughed. ‘I drove the stupid buggers back to their boat and told
them I’d lock them up on sight if they ever came back.’

Suddenly Joe showed a little more interest in
the conversation. ‘Did the boat have a name?’

‘Not that I noticed.’

‘What kind of boat was it?’

‘A sailing boat of some sort. It was a
scruffy old tub though. Sort of a dirty grey color with a bright
yellow transom.’

Joe’s bleary eyes widened. ‘Were these two
blokes brothers, by the name of Horan?’

‘Yeah, that’s right. Do you know those
tramps, Joe?’

Joe slammed his fist down so hard on the desk
it startled Sergeant Wilson. ‘ I know them all right, Sergeant. Did
the bastards tell you where they were heading?’

‘They said they were heading south to the
MacArthur River with a heap of croc-skins. They said they had to
get them to the agent at Borroloola before the road out is cut off
by the wet.’

*

The rain stopped at around two o’clock in the
morning. The noisy symphony it was playing on the tin roof of the
police station ended so abruptly, it was as if a conductor had
waved his baton to silence an orchestra at the height of a mighty
crescendo. Joe was lying on the bunk in the cell when the absolute
quiet came. Unable to get the Horan brothers off his mind, he’d
been staring up into the darkness for hours trying to work out the
best thing to do.

The mouth of the MacArthur River was
over two hundred miles away, as the crow flies, southward across
the Gulf of Carpentaria. But sailing vessels were dependant on the
wind and rarely sailed for long in a straight line. Even with a
reasonably favorable wind it would be more like three hundred sea
miles and perhaps double that if they were to sail close in along
the eastern coast of Arnhem Land. He had another option of course.
Tomorrow he’d be taking on fuel, more than enough to make the
journey to the Borroloola under power. If he did that, even with
the Horans’ head start he could still probably catch the
Groote Eyelandt Lady
upstream in the
MacArthur River before she made it back out to sea.

Joe turned over in the bunk as his mind went
over the same ground again and again. If the Horan brothers were
going to Borroloola, perhaps they really were just croc-shooters,
and with the start of the wet still several weeks away, they may
try and bag a few more skins in the creek and river mouths on their
way down the Arnhem Land coast. But if they were spies and
croc-shooting was just a front, they may not be going to Borroloola
at all.

Eventually, Joe decided that chasing
after the
Groote Eylandt Lady
wasn’t his decision to make, anyway. He couldn’t just do what
he wanted because he and Weasel had personal scores to settle with
the Horan brothers. The
Walrus
was already at the eastern limit of her surveillance area,
with orders to return to the Goulburn Islands and then on to
Darwin. Joe closed his eyes and tried to sleep. In the morning he
would radio Army Intelligence in Darwin, report the situation, then
follow instructions.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR

Soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder,
jamming the decks of the
Chesapeake
Bay
as the troopship approached the rugged coast of
California. They stood at the rail, five and six deep, down the
entire length of the vessel. Most of the soldiers had left the
United States as boys but were returning as men, bearing the
physical and psychological wounds of war. But all were grateful
that they were not among the tens of thousands of their comrades
who had fallen on the bloody beaches of the islands of the
south-west Pacific and would never be coming home. It seemed
everyone wanted to be the first to catch a glimpse of their
homeland. And not every eye straining towards the shore was
dry.

Faith was sitting alone in the small civilian
passenger lounge when she looked up and saw Gus Welenski. He was
standing at the door looking very smart in his best dress uniform
talking with the lounge steward. After a moment he hurried over and
sat down beside her.

‘One of the nursing officers told me you were
here, Faith. I thought I’d better say goodbye before the ship ties
up. It will be a madhouse disembarking ten thousand men when we get
in and I have to help organize it.’

Faith smiled. ‘How did you get past the
lounge steward, Gus? He only lets officers in here, and then only
if they’ve been invited.’

Gus grinned. ‘That’s because officers are too
cheap to slip him five bucks.’

She took his hand and squeezed it. ‘You’ve
been such a good friend, Gus. What would I ever have done without
you?’

He brushed the question aside and asked one
of his own. ‘Have you decided what you’re going to do, Faith?’

‘I don’t really know. After what you told me
about what Lyle did, sometimes I feel like just turning around and
going home as soon as the ship docks. I even spoke to one of the
ship’s officers about it. But he said, even if I wanted to, it’s
all but impossible to book a passage to Australia on any shipping
line these days.’

Gus drew a deep breath. ‘You know, maybe it
would have been better if I’d said nothing to you about the major
and Australian Immigration.’

‘Don’t be silly, Gus. I appreciate you
telling me. It’s just so hard to think that Lyle could have been so
cruel towards Dan.’

‘You know what they say, all’s fair in love
and war. ’

‘But it’s not fair, Gus. That’s what’s so
upsetting.’

Gus could see Faith was near tears. ‘Perhaps,
somehow I got it all wrong,’ he volunteered without much
conviction.

‘Was there a chance you did?’ She looked him
squarely in the eye. ‘Was there any chance of that at all?’

Gus sighed. ‘No, Faith, I don’t think
so.’

‘Oh Gus, I thought I knew what I was doing.
I’d finally come to terms with what had happened to Dan and me and
I was glad to marry Lyle when he asked me. I was so happy. I
thought my life was organized. Now everything’s all up in the air
again.’

‘What will you do when we tie up, Faith?’ Gus
said softly.

‘I’ll have to talk to Lyle about everything
before I go on to New York. I needn’t involve you, Gus. Anyone
could have overheard Lyle’s conversation with the immigration
official.’

‘There’s no need to cover for me, Faith’, Gus
interjected quickly, ‘there’s nothing he can do to hurt me
now.’

‘Well anyway,’ Faith continued, ‘I’ll have to
see what Lyle says.’

‘And if things don’t work out?’

‘Then, I’ll go and see the Australian
representative in the British Consulate in San Francisco. Perhaps
he can help me get a passage home.’

‘And if he can’t?’

‘I’ll have to sit and wait until I can get
one myself.’

‘You said yourself that’s all but impossible.
Are you all right for money?’

‘Yes, for the time being anyway.’

‘Look, in a few days I’ll been going home to
Idaho for six weeks leave.’ Gus took out a piece of paper from his
pocket and gave it to her. ‘This is our address and phone number.
You’re welcome to stay with us in Boise for as long as you like. I
know Marge and the kids would love to meet you.’

Faith smiled. ‘Thanks Gus, but I’ll be all
right.’

‘If you have time on your hands, have you
thought of going to New Mexico?’

‘You mean, to see Dan?’

Gus nodded his head

‘I did, but only for a moment. It’s been
almost a year since I’ve seen him. Nothing stays the same you know.
Things change. People change. I don’t think just turning up on his
doorstep would be a good idea.’

Gus started to say something else but his
words were drowned out when wild cheering erupted outside on the
deck. The Golden Gate Bridge and the hills surrounding San
Francisco Bay had just come into view.

*

Patches of blue were appearing in the
morning sky and the road to Gove Harbor had almost dried out when
Sergeant Wilson drove Joe back to the
Walrus.
Following the police vehicle was the
truck from the town store with Joe’s supplies. When Joe stepped
from Sergeant Wilson’s truck, Monday, who had been keeping a close
watch on the shore, was already rowing in to pick him up. The
moment they returned to the ketch, Joe got on the radio and sent a
coded signal to Army Intelligence in Darwin advising of the
sighting of the
Groote Eylandt
Lady
, her suspected southerly course, and requesting
urgent instructions.

Joe got orders back from Darwin just as
the last of the provisions were being loaded aboard. His
instructions were to make every effort to locate the
Groote Eylandt Lady
and if
successful, to report back to Army Intelligence for further
instructions.

The storm had pretty well blown itself
out when they raised sail to head down into the Gulf. Joe decided
to head straight for the mouth of the MacArthur River and if
the
Groote Eylandt Lady
was
not already upstream in the river, he would drop anchor and lay in
wait for her. With the wind blowing favorably from the east at
almost twenty knots, the skies clearing and the seas receding, Joe
expected to make good time. As the
Walrus
lumbered her way southward, Joe and Weasel
could barely contain their eagerness to confront the Horan
brothers. They were enthusiastically discussing the prospect when
they received another signal from Army Intelligence.

Ignore previous instructions. Naval
authorities advise small sailing vessel named Chinook escaped
custody at Thursday Island two days ago. Vessel sighted by RAAF
Catalina an hour ago forty miles north-east of Gove Harbor on
direct course for English Company’s Islands. One man aboard. If
possible intercept and apprehend.

‘Bloody hell.’ Joe vaulted up the
companionway and took the helm from Weasel ‘Ready to come
about’

Monday and Weasel released the sail sheets as
Joe brought up the helm and swung the ketch through the wind, then
they quickly brought them in again and the sails filled with air on
the opposite tack. In a few moments the boat was up to speed again
heading back in the direction they had come.

‘No small boat sightings of any consequence
for weeks on end,’ Joe shouted out in frustration, ‘then we get two
on the same bloody day.’

Joe handed the radio message to Weasel. The
wind almost snatched the paper from his hands as he read it.

‘We’re about the same distance from the
English Company’s Islands as that sloop,’ Joe said. ‘We may be
slower, but if that bloke has been out in the Gulf in that storm
for two or three days, he’ll be so stuffed we should be able to
outsail him. If he holds his course, we should sight him before
dark. If he reaches the islands before we do, I think I know where
to find him—that is, if he knows the waters around them are too
dangerous to be navigated at night.’

The sun was like a big red billiard
ball on the western horizon when the
Walrus
rounded Cape Wilberforce into Malay Road,
the long strait which separated the mainland from the high,
windswept English Company’s Islands. Just beyond the cape was a
sheltered bay, a favorite anchorage with coast-wise sailors after
crossing the Gulf of Carpentaria. Having seen no sign of the
fugitive sloop from Thursday Island, Joe reckoned the vessel must
be faster than most boats her size and she might already be at
anchor in the bay. His hunch was correct. The big red billiard ball
had already sunk into the sea when he scanned the deep bay with
binoculars. And there in the fading light, close in against the
shore, he saw a single white mast.