The Golden Soak (23 page)

She gave us both a stiff whisky, pouring it from the bottle into tumblers, her hand trembling. We drank it neat while she cooked us a steak. And then we took the Land-Rover and went back to the mine. But it was a waste of time. We got as far as the shaft and that was all, the wooden head of it collapsed, the ladders gone and the open well of it blocked with debris about 140 feet down. There was dust and rubble everywhere, and remembering the poor stoping, the softness of the pillars, I didn't reckon it was even worth trying to get in by the shaft. Any attempt to reach the men would have to be made from the other entrance, and it would be slow work in the cramped space of that pilot gallery.

There was nothing we could do, so we went back to the homestead. Janet met us with the news that the Shire Clerk would be arriving from Nullagine around midnight with a team from Grafton Downs. Also, a mining engineer from Mt Newman was waiting to see me. He was Italian, a thickset hairy man who talked with an accent that sounded distinctly Welsh. He had been sent up to assess the situation and Ed Garrety was with him. He listened to what I had to say about conditions underground and the present state of the shaft, then said, ‘Tell me now, d'you think there is any chance whatever that they are still alive?'

‘Frankly – no,' I said. ‘I don't think there's a hope.'

‘And you, Mr Garrety, what do you think?'

But Ed Garrety didn't answer. His head was bowed as though in prayer, the heavy-lidded eyes closed. His face, shaved now, had a grey, sick look, the eye sockets dark hollows, the skin like parchment stretched over the skull.

‘Okay.' The Italian got to his feet ‘I go now. But don't expect too much from us. Mount Whaleback is opencast, you understand.'

He left just as Andie drove in from Lynn Peak. Other station owners drifted in during the evening until there were five of them there drinking beer and talking it over in their slow careful way. I left them to it and went to bed. Henry's room had been made over to me again. It was hot and airless and, before turning in, I went out on to the verandah and stood there for a while, smoking a cigarette, with the dark outline of the Windbreaks shouldering the stars. I was just turning back into the room when Janet's voice said, ‘Is that you, Alec?' Her shadow emerged out of the darkness. ‘Can I have a word with you?'

‘Of course.'

She was hugging a thin cotton dressing gown to her, her hair hanging loose across her face. ‘Not out here.' She moved into my room, turning to face me as I followed her. ‘I hope you don't mind. I saw you smoking out there and …' She hesitated. ‘Can you spare one please? It's about – what happened – down there at the mine this morning.' Her voice was nervous, not quite under control.

I gave her a cigarette and lit it for her and she said a little wildly, ‘I don't know what to do. I must tell somebody, but …' She stood there silent for a moment, and then suddenly she blurted out, ‘It was an accident, wasn't it?' Her eyes, momentarily lit by the glow of her cigarette, stared at me anxiously.

‘What else?'

‘You've been down the mine, haven't you? The night after you left here. Andie drove over two days ago to tell us it was all over Nullagine – that you'd been down Golden Soak with that woman Prophecy.'

‘She drove me over, yes.' I started to explain what had happened, but she was more concerned with the effect the news had had on her father. ‘He's always had this thing about Golden Soak and when he heard you'd been down there …' She subsided on to the end of the bed, staring at me, her eyes luminous. ‘What did you find there?' Her voice was urgent. ‘Please. I must know.'

I told her briefly, and she sat there, very still, listening to me, the cigarette trembling in her hand. ‘I see.' There was a long pause, and then she said, ‘Ever since Andie was here, he's hardly left the mine, except –' She hesitated. ‘Except yesterday morning. He was here for several hours yesterday.'

‘Doing what?'

But she didn't answer, just sat there, quite still, as though she'd been suddenly struck dumb.

‘What are you trying to tell me?'

‘I don't know,' she murmured, her lips compressed, an unhappy look in her eyes. ‘He was here, you know, when those miners lost their lives. He would have been in his early twenties then and it made a deep impression on him. And afterwards, when he came back from the war, he wouldn't go down there himself and he wouldn't let anybody else go down. I think he was afraid of it – afraid it would claim more lives. I tried to get him to sell. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't even consider it.'

‘Why?'

‘I don't know. Well, yes, I do in a way. I think at the back of his mind he always believed that ultimately Golden Soak would be our salvation. As long as we owned it he could at least hope.' Her voice trailed off. ‘Do you understand?'

‘Yes, I think so. But now … what happens now?'

She shook her head. ‘God knows,' she breathed. ‘He'll have to give evidence, I suppose. He knew it was unsafe, that faulted area particularly.' She paused, staring at me very directly. And then suddenly she leaned forward, a note of urgency in her voice. ‘You knew it, too. You were down there – you said yourself it was unsafe.'

‘Yes, the pillars supporting the overburden were rotten with oxidization.'

‘So it collapsed, just like that?' She was staring at me. ‘There'll be an inquest and you'll be called to give evidence. You realize that?'

I hadn't thought about it, but this was basically an English country, the same legal procedures. ‘I suppose so.'

‘Then you'll tell the Coroner. You'll testify it was dangerous and that was why Daddy wouldn't let anybody down there?' She was living the scene in her imagination, her voice low. ‘It was an accident.' I didn't say anything and she stubbed out her cigarette and got to her feet. ‘I'd forgotten for a moment that you were a mining consultant. That makes a difference.'

‘Does it?'

‘Well, naturally. It's an expert opinion and they'll accept that.'

She was moving past me then, out on to the verandah, but I caught hold of her shoulders. ‘Janet. What was it you came to tell me?'

‘Nothing.' I could feel her trembling.

‘You said you had to tell somebody.'

‘Did I?' Her voice was blank. ‘Well, if I did, I've forgotten what it was. I think I just wanted to talk to you.'

She was lying. I knew that. But I couldn't force it out of her and I let her go. I was too physically exhausted to care very much. But back in that narrow bed, with the lumps of the mattress all in the wrong place, I was nagged by the things Westrop had said, her father's behaviour, and the thought that he might have seen them going into the old shearing shed. But clarity of thought was beyond me and, with my mind still groping for a reasonable explanation, I drifted off to sleep.

Andie woke me a little after one. The Grafton Downs men had arrived. Ed Garrety had given them an account of what had happened, but they wanted a briefing from me. There were seven of them, only three of them miners, and I had to tell them I didn't think there was a hope in hell of their getting any further into the mine than we had, let alone find Westrop or the other two alive. ‘My guess is it's a total collapse from the second level down.'

‘At least we must try and recover the bodies,' the Clerk said.

‘But not at the risk of any more lives,' I told him.

The big Dutch foreman looked across at Ed Garrety, sitting bewildered and uneasy, the Alsatian at his feet. ‘You agree with that?'

‘Yes, of course. You mustn't take any chances.'

‘No, vat I mean is, do you agree with your friend's assessment of the situation?'

He hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. ‘Yes, I suppose so.'

‘Okay. Then ve go.'

They finished their beers and got to their feet. Ed Garrety remained where he was. He seemed dazed and I wondered how he must feel with half the world attempting to break into his mine.

‘Anything we can do?' one of the station owners asked.

The Dutchman shook his head. ‘From vat I hear there vill be only room for one or two of us to work at a time. And it vill be very slow.'

He was right there. Kennie and I went down shortly after midday. They had shifted about ten tons of rubble, working on their hands and knees, and they were rapidly losing heart, even though Mt Newman had sent half a dozen volunteers. They had all of them been up the gully. They had seen how the old workings had become gaping pits. They had looked down the shaft, too, and they knew it was hopeless. The only thing that kept them going was the thought that Westrop and his companions might have been caught before they had gone any distance into the second level gallery.

We took our turn, but it was a gesture only. We had no hope of achieving anything. It was back-breaking work, the air thick with dust and no room to move. As soon as we had finished our stint we went back up into the open air. Hot though it was, it still seemed wonderfully fresh after that narrow tunnel.

By the time we got back to the homestead it was already dark and the local constable had arrived. He was with Ed Garrety, taking a statement. He took one from me, too, writing it all out laboriously in longhand, and when he finished, he went into Ed Garrety's den to make his report on the radio. He was back a few minutes later with the news that the aborigine, Wolli, was alive. He had been found wandering in a state of exhaustion in the Mindy Mindy Creek area some 40 miles to the north-east. I remember the look on Ed Garrety's face as the constable told us – a sort of shocked disbelief.

Janet saw it, too. She was staring at him, her mouth open, her eyes suddenly very wide. ‘If Wolli's alive, then perhaps the others are, too.'

But there was no answering gleam of hope in her father's eyes.

‘Hal Benton found him,' the constable said. ‘He's taking him into Nullagine now. He should be there in about an hour.'

We had some food and shortly after nine the constable went back to the radio. He was gone about ten minutes and when he returned his sun-crinkled face was grave. Benton had questioned Wolli on the drive to Nullagine and as a result he was able to confirm that Phil Westrop and Lenny Fisher had entered the tunnel by the old shearing shed entrance at least half an hour before the mine collapsed. They had left Wolli above ground, telling him to stay with their vehicle, which he had done until the noise of the disaster scared him and he had taken to the bush in panic.

There was no longer any doubts in our minds – both the men had had time to penetrate so deep into the mine that they would have been buried instantly. ‘No good risking our necks for nothing.' Nobody said anything. We were all of us too shocked. Ed Garrety's eyes were closed, his face grey and beaded with sweat. I thought for a moment he was going to pass out, he looked so bad. But then the heavy lids flicked back, the blue eyes staring. ‘Yes,' he murmured, ‘there mustn't be any more deaths.'

The constable nodded, standing there waiting. I think he was expecting Ed Garrety to go with him. But when nobody moved, he nodded again and ducked quickly through the flyscreen, disappearing into the night. A moment later we heard the engine of his Land-Rover.

A silence settled on the room, broken by Janet saying in a deliberately practical voice, ‘Well, there's Cleo and the horses to see to, and the chickens – would somebody care to give me a hand?' Kennie was on his feet in an instant. I watched them as they went out together and when I turned back to Ed Garrety, only the Alsatian was still there. His chair was empty.

I leaned back, closing my eyes and thinking of Westrop and the rumours surrounding his uncle's disappearance. I must have dozed off, for the next thing I knew Janet was standing there saying her father would like a word with me. ‘You'll find him in his den.' And she added as I got to my feet, ‘It's upset him and he's – not quite himself, see.'

I found him sitting at his desk with a glass in his hand and an old plan of the underground workings spread out in front of him. He looked up as I opened the door, his face flushed, his eyes too bright. ‘Come in, Alec. Come in.' I could smell the whisky before I had even seen the half-empty bottle. ‘Like a drink?' He didn't wait for me to reply, but reached into a drawer for another glass, the neck of the bottle rattling against it as he poured. ‘Now sit you down. Time we had a talk – just the two of us, eh?' He spoke slowly and with care. He wasn't drunk, but he had already had enough to make him choose his words with deliberation. ‘I'm told you went down on your own and brought up samples. Right?'

I nodded, sitting there drinking his whisky and wondering what was coming, why he should choose this of all moments to talk about the reef he had found.

‘And then you hitched a ride to Kalgoorlie. Did you get those samples analysed?'

‘Yes.' And I told him the result.

He emptied his glass and poured himself more whisky. ‘I don't usually drink. But tonight …' He sat there, savouring the taste of it, staring into space. ‘It helps. Sometimes.' There was a long pause, and then he was looking down at the plan again. ‘It's the future I have to think about now.' He tapped the plan with his finger. ‘That's where I came across the reef. At the third level, 149 yards north of the main gallery. Five men died there and seven were injured and my father closed the mine, not knowing they'd found the reef.'

‘How did you know then?'

‘That old abo, Half-Bake. He always said he'd seen the quartz as the roof collapsed on him. But I didn't believe him. Or perhaps I was afraid to go down there. I told you, didn't I? That mine's got a curse on it. And now there's two more dead.'

‘Did you know they were in the mine?'

He looked at me, frowning. ‘No, of course I didn't. What made you say that?'