The Crocodile Nest (10 page)

Ham and Luke danced around like they were Aborigines at a corroboree.

‘What a team!’ yelled Ham, giving his son high-fives. ‘What a bloody beaut team!’

Then the dogs got some attention. They were sprawled on the ground, their tongues out, puffing furiously. Ham gave them both a hug, with Spock getting the longest one. ‘Thanks, old boy,’ he said into the dog’s ear. ‘If it hadn’t been for you, it might be me lying there on the ground.’

After that Luke gave them each a hug, because he figured they’d saved him as well, especially Spock. If he hadn’t held on, then the pig might have got free.

Next they examined the pig. It was a big old boar with tusks as long as Luke’s hand.

‘You going to carry it out?’ Luke asked.

‘Nah! It’s too old. The meat won’t be great. Anyway, lots of
the pigs in the rainforests are full of disease. I kill them. I don’t always eat them.’

‘What about the tusks? Can I have them?’

Ham smiled. ‘You want something to hang on the wall, eh?’

Luke nodded.

‘OK, let’s see what we can do.’

Detaching them wasn’t as easy as Luke had thought, but with some cutting and a lot of bashing they had each tusk out.

‘All right,’ said Ham, ‘we’d better head back to the ute. Chizza will have calmed down now and could be waiting for us.’

They took it slowly, giving the dogs the chance to recover. Both seemed to know it was all over, for they were no longer leading the way with their noses to the ground. Spock trotted alongside Ham, while Kirk seemed to think he should be attached to Luke.

Again they stopped at the fallen tree for a drink.

They’d just resumed their trek when they heard a shot, loud enough to make Luke duck.

‘Geez!’ said Ham. ‘That was close.’

‘Do you think it was Chizza?’

He shook his head. ‘Not unless he’s doubled back, and I don’t think he’d do that. It’s too dangerous.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Let’s get out in the open where we can be seen.’

They never made it. They’d hardly moved when once again the forest was pierced by screams. But not from a pig this time: these were human, and nearby.

‘Somebody’s in trouble,’ said Ham. ‘Follow me.’ He started running in the direction of the sound. ‘Hang on, mate!’ he yelled. ‘We’re coming!’

The screams stopped, to be replaced a short time later by a voice. ‘Help me! Ham, help me!’ It was Chizza.

They ran faster. The dogs figured something was up and leapt to the front, not wanting to miss out on the action. ‘Get behind!’ yelled Ham. Spock obeyed, but Kirk ignored the call. A moment later, he was growling and snarling at something. By the time they caught up, Kirk had gone into battle.

It was a cassowary. On the ground behind it was a dead chick about the size of a turkey. More chicks were hiding in the bushes. Part-way up a strangling fig was Chizza, holding on as if his life depended on it. Probably it did!

Kirk was snapping at the bird while trying to dodge its flailing claws.

‘Pick up the gun and shoot!’ yelled Chizza. The gun was on the ground at their feet.

Ham made no move towards it. Instead, he started shuffling backwards. ‘Move back, Luke. If we give it some space, it’ll go away.’ When they were about five metres away, he yelled, ‘Kirk! Get behind!’

It was clear that Kirk was going to come out second-best in this fight.

‘Kirk!’ screamed Ham. ‘Get off!’

But it was too late. The cassowary launched itself forward, throwing both feet at the dog. Kirk was bowled over. Before he had a chance to get up, the bird was preparing for another attack. Spock left Ham’s side and rushed forward, barking wildly.

‘No!’ yelled Ham. ‘Behind, Spock!’

As Spock turned to retreat, the cassowary struck, slicing down
across his hindquarters. The dog screamed as he collapsed to the ground. Once again, the cassowary readied for attack. Kirk was now back on his feet. He moved behind the cassowary, barking noisily. It was enough to distract the bird and give Spock the chance to drag himself into a bush. His hindquarters were useless.

‘Now shoot it!’ yelled Chizza.

Ham looked at the rifle lying on the ground, before slowly shaking his head. ‘No. We wait.’ Then he yelled to Kirk to get behind. This time the dog obeyed.

‘I will fall off soon!’ cried Chizza.

‘Then fall off,’ replied Ham. ‘I’m not killing that bird because you were stupid enough to shoot its chick.’

Luke expected Chizza to protest more, but instead he moved to a better position to wait.

With nothing happening, the cassowary soon lost interest. It nudged the dead chick with its beak a couple of times before moving away through the undergrowth. A couple of throaty calls brought the surviving chicks out of hiding to follow their father into the safety of the forest.

Immediately, Ham rushed to Spock’s aid. The dog was now whimpering softly. He looked up at Ham, pleading for help.

‘Yes, old boy,’ Ham said, ‘I’ll help you. But first we’ve got to get you out of there.’

With Luke’s help, Ham managed to slide Spock out without inflicting too much additional pain. It was then that they got a clear look at the injury. It was bad. A claw had ripped down between the thigh and the belly, wide enough for some of the
gut to spill out. Blood was everywhere. Ham took off his shirt and held it against the bleeding flesh.

He turned to Luke. ‘Hold that there while I get out the first-aid kit.’

The shirt was soon soaked in blood, so Luke took his own shirt off and placed that on top. By then Ham had the kit open and was threading a needle.

‘Are you going to sew it up?’

Ham nodded, grimly. ‘Have to, or he’ll die.’

A voice came from behind. ‘Anything I can do?’ It was Chizza, now back on the ground.

Ham looked at him in disgust. ‘Yes—get lost!’ He then returned to repairing the dog.

It was a slow, horrible job. While Ham worked with the needle, Luke held Spock’s head, stroking him and attempting to soothe him with words.

Chizza had not taken up Ham’s suggestion. At first he sat on the ground playing with his rifle. Then he began creeping around with the gun at the ready, sneaking between trees as if he was a member of a SWAT team about to take some terrorist out. He looked pathetic.

Eventually, it was done and they were ready to leave.

‘I can carry the dog,’ offered Chizza.

‘No! I take him,’ said Ham. ‘Pick up my pack and take that.’

Chizza did, and after covering their torsos with sunscreen they were on their way.

That hike back to the ute was enough to put Luke off pig hunting forever. The sun burned into his bare back, the dust clogged his nose, and every time he breathed through his mouth insects would sneak in. However, he dared not complain. It was a lot harder for Ham. He had to cope with the same things
and
carry Spock. Cradling the dog to his chest must have been killing his back, and yet he never said a thing for the entire trip. Luke’s respect for Ham was growing.

With Ham on the back of the ute supporting Spock, and Chizza driving, they started back for Cape Tribulation. The journey was almost as tough as the tramp out from the forest. A couple of sunburnt patches on Luke’s back scraped against the seat every time they went over a bump. Then there was the rifle sitting between him and Chizza. The thing bashed against the floor, the dashboard, and too often against Luke—an unpleasant reminder of the events that had happened last time he’d been that close to a gun.

Chizza saw his concern and smiled. ‘Are you scared of guns?’

‘No!’ Luke said quickly. ‘Is it loaded?’

‘I do not know: you can check.’

Luke shook his head.

‘Ha! You
are
scared of guns.’

‘I am if they’re going to shoot me,’ he said indignantly.

Chizza chuckled. ‘It has no bullets in it. So there is no need for you to worry.’

After that, they drove in silence for some time, before Chizza asked, ‘If you are not interested in guns, what are you interested in?’

‘Computers.’

‘Computers, eh?’ said Chizza, looking sideways at him. ‘Me, too. What sort of things about computers? There are so many things you can do with them.’

You bet. Like stealing an old lady’s money.
Out loud he said, ‘Just about everything. I want to be a programmer.’

Chizza’s eyebrows went up. ‘A programmer! You have to be good at mathematics to write programs.’

‘I am.’

‘So am I. I enjoy the challenge of programming. I write a lot of programs to control the computers I service.’

This was Luke’s chance. ‘Did you write the program for that photo viewer on the computers at The Nest?’

There was a significant pause before Chizza answered. ‘Yes. Why do you ask?’

‘Oh, I just wondered. I thought that if you’d got it off the Internet it might contain a virus.’

‘It does not contain a virus,’ Chizza replied sharply. ‘None of my programs do.’ A longer pause this time, before: ‘You can check it and you will not find a virus.’

No, because you’re clever enough to make a mask so nobody can see it.

From then on Chizza drove silently, staring at the road except for the occasional sideways glance. Luke wondered if he’d said too much. But if he was ever to get proof, he had to do something that would force the matter.

Spock was dead before they arrived back at The Crocodile Nest. Ham said he’d died not long after turning back onto the Bloomfield Track. It was obvious that since then Ham had been mourning the loss of his friend. Luke, too, was affected by his death. Although he’d known Spock for only a day, he’d enjoyed his friendly company and admired his bravery. Spock had died trying to help his mate Kirk, and that deserved a lot of respect.

Ham carried Spock into the forest behind the pen, while Luke got a couple of shovels from the workshop. Chizza had disappeared, which was probably just as well.

They took turns in digging the grave.

‘Why did Chizza shoot the cassowary chick?’ Luke asked during a break.

‘He probably thought it was a pig.’

‘It looked nothing like a pig.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ said Ham, quietly. ‘He’s done things like that before. Echidna, bandicoot, tree kangaroo…He’s not very good at identifying his target.’ He turned and looked at Spock’s body. ‘Other times, only the animal died.’

‘How old was he?’

‘Aw, getting on a bit. I got him soon after I came over here, so he was at least eleven.’

‘Was that when you were in Sydney?’

‘Sydney?’

‘Yeah, when you were studying to be a chef.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ He looked away. ‘Actually I was out of Sydney a bit. But it was around about then.’ He hopped back into the hole and continued digging.

Something was wrong here. For some reason, Ham didn’t want to talk about Sydney. Luke wondered why, but now was not the time to probe further.

Soon afterwards, they finished digging the grave. Spock was lowered to the bottom, and they took turns shovelling in the dirt. When that was done, they stood side by side, looking at the mound.

‘Goodbye, mate,’ said Ham, softly. ‘I hope you’re in a place where there’re lots of shady trees, and you get steak every day. Sleep in peace, mate. You deserve it—by God, you deserve it.’

Luke put his arm around Ham’s waist, who responded with an arm over his son’s shoulders. Both had tears in their eyes. It was several minutes before they parted, but for Luke they were special minutes: the emotions of the occasion had raised their relationship to a new level. One that held promise for the future.

Luke slept for twelve hours that night, only waking a couple of times when the bush chooks were at their noisiest. Somehow the screaming didn’t seem so bad now that he knew the cause.

His first stop was the bush chooks’ nest. He tippy-toed around the back of the workshop as Andy had suggested, and was rewarded with a clear view of the birds scraping at their nest. In the darkness of the forest, their most obvious feature was their large, orange feet. The rest of the body was dark, almost purple in colour. A triangular crest on their heads made them look slightly alien.

They stopped digging as he approached, but soon got back on the job when he leant against a tree. They were busy excavating a hole in the top of the mound where Luke assumed the eggs were buried.

He decided that he liked these birds. Their night calls were exciting, like something out of a horror movie, and they built
an incubator to hatch their eggs. Other birds might sit on a nest for weeks, but these guys did a bit of work night and morning, and had the rest of the day to themselves—a pretty clever way to live.

Ham was already at The Nest when Luke got there. He looked a bit better than the previous morning, although his eyes suggested that some heavy drinking had been done the night before.

Over breakfast, he gave his news. After Luke had left for bed, Ham had gone over to the Reef Sands Resort to find Chizza and sort things out with him. There, they’d met up with Beth and Lora. During a conversation about things tourists did, Chizza suggested that they should visit Port Douglas and go fishing for barramundi in the estuary. He would lend them his truck for the day. They could even have his boat if they wanted. Ham had declined the boat, saying it would be better to use a charter, but he’d accepted the truck. So before the evening was finished it had all been arranged: Beth, Lora, Ham and Luke were going fishing for the afternoon. They were to leave at eleven.

Luke figured that this was Chizza’s way of apologizing for his behaviour on the pig hunt. Or maybe he was just trying to make out he was Mister Nice Guy in front of Beth. Did he know that she was one of his victims? If so, then his actions were probably a smoke screen; a front to show he could not possibly be suspected of anything criminal.

After breakfast, Luke went to the games room to check his
emails. He didn’t get the chance, though. As soon as he entered the room, he was grabbed by a man, who pulled him over to a computer where a woman was sitting.

‘This machine has stolen our credit card,’ he said with what sounded like a German accent. ‘My wife put it in, but now it won’t come out.’

‘Try bashing it,’ Luke suggested.

‘I have bashed it, thumped it, banged it on the bench. It still will not give me her card back.’

Luke picked up the card reader and had a look at it. The base was held on by screws, which might come out with the right screwdriver. ‘Do you want me to pull it to bits?’

‘Can you?’ asked the man hopefully.

Luke had another look at the screws. They weren’t standard ones, but maybe Andy had something that would fit. ‘I’ll give it a go, but I need to get some tools.’

Andy was in the workshop, stirring a pot of paint.

‘Aw, Luke, I’m sorry to hear about Spock. That must’ve been hard to take.’

Luke nodded. ‘Did you hear what happened?’

‘Yeah! That blimmin’ Cheeta.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘My word, that man’s got a lot to answer for.’

More than you think,
Luke thought, but now was not the time to go into that. Instead he asked, ‘You got any fancy screw-drivers?’

‘How fancy?’

‘One with a split blade.’

‘I don’t have anything like that. Whatcha want it for?’

Luke explained the situation.

‘Mate, you need to be careful there. Cheeta doesn’t like anyone fiddling with those computers.’

‘I’m only going to get a credit card out.’

Andy made a sucking noise as he thought about it. ‘All right, let’s see what I’ve got over here.’

He didn’t have the right tool, but Andy soon made one by filing down an old screwdriver until it looked like it would do the job.

‘Thanks,’ Luke said, heading for the door.

‘No worries, mate. Just don’t let Cheeta find out what you’re doing.’

The couple were still there, staring at the card reader as if willing it to give up the card. They looked relieved that Luke had returned.

The screwdriver worked. Soon he had the case off, and yes the card was stuck inside. A bit of the surface of the card had peeled back and got caught on the way out. With a bit of fiddling Luke released it, much to the relief of the Germans. He handed it back to them, and after lots of thanks they left.

Before putting the machine back together, Luke took a closer look at the machine to see how it worked. It was pretty simple: basically a motor and a card-reading chip. But it was not the simplicity that surprised Luke; it was the way it was constructed. The thing looked like it had been made out of a kid’s toy. Without doubt it was homemade. Surely credit-card companies didn’t allow DIY things on their systems? Could this be another of Chizza’s scams? Was he ripping tourists off as they
checked their emails? It certainly seemed like something that Luke needed to investigate further.

To get to Port Douglas they had to go south, back towards Cairns along the road that had brought them to Cape Tribulation. Back past the tea plantations, sugar-cane fields, across the Daintree River ferry to the more populated parts of Tropical Queensland.

Port Douglas reminded Luke of Whitianga. It was mostly holiday homes, with a main street full of restaurants and tourist shops. It even had a similar estuary harbour and strong links to the explorer James Cook.

Down at the harbour they met up with Blue, who was their skipper for the day. Blue explained that they would first go into Packer’s Creek to fish for barramundi and maybe see some crocodiles. On the way back, they’d do a bit more fishing over an inshore reef.

The creek was lined with moored boats, many more than Whitianga had. Further upstream, they found they weren’t the only ones after barramundi. It seemed to Luke that there were so many boats that the fish didn’t have a chance. However, in the hour they spent there, they never caught a fish and neither did any other boat.

Nor did they see a crocodile. Blue pointed out some places in the mangroves where crocodiles were often seen, but they had to take his word for that.

The surprising thing was how knowledgeable Lora was about fishing and boats. She sat up the front with Blue, chatting about
various fishing trips she’d done in her father’s boat. At one stage Blue let her take the wheel, and she handled the job like a pro. Luke watched her. Not jealously, but with admiration for the things that she could do. He was beginning to really like this girl.

Back out at sea, they got down to some serious reef fishing. Ham and Luke fished one side, with the two females the other. It quickly became a contest between the blokes and the sheilas, as Blue called them.

Luke caught the first fish, a golden trevally—his first fish ever! After that, it was all on. Eventually they stopped because they had enough fish, not because they were sick of fishing. Beth wanted to keep going, because the sheilas were the losers—a fact that the blokes kept reminding them about all the way home.

That night they all had dinner at The Nest, where the chef made a special dish using the day’s catch. Luke thought it would have been a happier meal if Chizza hadn’t joined them, but, as his vehicle had made the day possible, he probably had a right to be there.

After dinner, Luke joined Beth and Lora in the Reva for the short trip to the Reef Sands Resort. They wanted him to help decide which Great Barrier Reef trip to take.

The little electric car was designed for only two adults, so it was a very snug fit for the three of them. Luke didn’t mind, though; especially when Beth zipped around corners, throwing
Lora onto his lap. After the third time, he wondered if Lora might not be helping it to happen.

At the Reef Sands, Beth excused herself, saying she was tired. Lora and Luke sat in the bar near the computers, looking at brochures. It didn’t take long to decide which trip to take: the one that had a pontoon with an underwater observation deck would probably be easiest for Beth.

‘We can go snorkelling as well,’ said Lora. ‘Have you ever done it?’

Luke shook his head.

‘Oh, it’s real cool. You just float on the surface with this whole different world below you. It’s fantastic.’

‘Is it hard to learn?’

‘Nah! I’ll teach you. We can do it off the beach here.’

Luke liked that idea, and it was quickly organized for the following afternoon.

After that there was a lull while Luke debated whether to tell Lora about Chizza. In the end he pointed to a computer showing the screensaver and asked, ‘Have you noticed that those are the same photos that Ham sent?’

She nodded.

‘They’re on the computers at The Crocodile Nest, too.’ Then, after a moment’s thought: ‘That’s how the virus got onto Beth’s computer.’

She looked at him sternly. ‘So it wasn’t my P2P program?’

Luke’s eyes dropped. ‘No,’ he said quietly.

Lora’s expression changed to a crooked smile. ‘I knew that. I checked my computer at home and there wasn’t any virus.’

‘I bet that program over there’s carrying it. When you log on, does it come up with a screen to tell you how to send it to your friends?’

‘Yes. I haven’t, though.’

‘Don’t! Or you’ll send them the virus as well.’ From then on it was easy. He told her everything, right through to the session with the Germans that morning.

When he’d finished, she put her hand on his arm, concerned. ‘Do you think your father’s involved?’

‘I did at first, but not anymore. It’s just Chizza. He’s a real animal.’ He then described the pig hunt and how Spock had died.

Afterwards, she was quiet for a time. Then: ‘We’ve got to stop this man.’

‘That’s what I’m going to do.’

‘We need to tell the police,’ said Lora

‘I’ve thought about that, but I’ve got no evidence.’

‘Wasn’t it the Cairns police who tried to find who collected Beth’s money? Surely they’d be interested? Why don’t we tell them?’

Luke nodded. Maybe he could get some names from Brian at the bank. If they told someone who already knew about the case, they were likely to get a better reaction.

‘We’ll give it a day,’ he said. ‘See if I can get more information.’

‘All right. I’ll do some sleuthing, too. I’ll give these computers a check-over.’ She thought for a moment. ‘We’ve been to other places that have the same screensaver. Maybe I’ll go back and start asking some questions.’

‘Not too many,’ Luke said quickly. ‘Be careful—we don’t want Chizza to find out.’

She put her hand on his arm again. ‘You be careful, too, Luke,’ she said softly. ‘You’re the one in the most danger. He already knows you’re interested.’

‘I will be,’ he said. ‘But he won’t do anything to me. He and Ham are mates.’ Yet, even as the words came out, Luke knew they were not true. Chizza and Ham were not really mates. There was something binding them together, but it wasn’t friendship. And if things went wrong, Luke doubted that the relationship would stop Chizza turning to violence, no matter who was involved.