The Outback (9 page)

Chapter 9

Saturday brought with it
the prospect of a generous lie-in for everyone. For Matt especially this was a
time to be savoured. In Cairns he had often slept through to midday as he
usually worked the late shifts at the bar. He could hardly believe that it had
been just a week since he left. Neither he nor Colin set an alarm, so he woke
naturally as the morning heat forced him out of his bed. The caravan was poorly
ventilated and the combination of sweat and dirty clothing was not a good mix.
He sat on the step outside of the van to get some fresh air whilst he adjusted
to the morning.

Jonas and Hiro occupied
the van opposite and Matt was unable to tell if either of them had risen. With
no books or television, the one thing that he dreaded above all else was being
alone. The company of others was the only distraction offered in this kind of
environment. Colin and Rose had made a connection on the first night and had grown
closer to one another as the week progressed. Matt hoped that he would be given
the opportunity to form a similar connection with Jenny at the party. Only time
would tell.

By noon everybody was
awake and out of their beds. Rose and Jenny took the lead in organising Paul’s
party and were both keen on getting everything planned down to the smallest
detail. They drew up a list of everything that would be needed and then coerced
Colin and Matt into accompanying them to the shops to help carry it all back to
camp.

The budding couples
played it coyly as they followed the dusty trail into town with the girls
walking side by side several paces ahead of the boys. The distance was just
enough that each pair was out of earshot of the other.

‘They’re talking about
us, you know,’ said Colin.

The sisters were
giggling amongst themselves and every so often Rose would glance furtively over
her shoulder.

‘It’s more likely that
they’re talking about you,’ replied Matt.

‘They probably think
that we’re talking about them too, but I wouldn’t give them that pleasure.’

‘You could have fooled
me. So what are we talking about?’

Colin lit a cigarette.

‘The party, obviously.
Tonight is a chance for you and I to really let go tonight. It’s all too easy
to grow accustomed to the lifestyle when you’re travelling, but here we have to
savour every chance that we get to have some fun.’

‘I’ve had a lot of good
nights since leaving home. Somehow I think tonight will suffer in comparison.’

Colin shook his head.

‘That’s precisely the
attitude we need to change. You do realise that if all goes well tonight it
could set us up for some very good times to come.’

Matt did not follow. He
began to wonder if Colin had added some of his herbal flavour to the cigarette
that he was smoking.

‘You’ve lost me. What’s
so great about tonight aside from it being the birthday of someone that we
hardly even know?’

‘Have you met Pierro
yet?’

Matt had only caught
brief glimpses of the man in question, but having worked alongside Celeste he
had heard more than he would like about the enigmatic chef.

‘We’ve never been
formally introduced, but I have heard a lot about him. He’s supposed to be
Italian, but Niall reckons he’s a local. I’m not too sure how that works
though.’

‘Everyone here is
descended from immigrants; except the Aboriginals, obviously. Some must cling
on to their heritage more than others.’

‘I suppose that makes
sense. Do you think he has ever even been to Europe?’

‘I wouldn’t have a clue
about that, but Celeste seems impressed. Then again, I suppose she’s probably
never been to Europe either.’

Matt often forgot that
the girl was from Canada and not France. Her accent and mannerisms were so
exaggeratedly Gallic that it was hard to think of her as anything else.

‘So what has all of this
got to do with the party?’ asked Matt.

Colin glanced towards
the girls to make sure that they were still out of earshot.

‘Your man Pierro has the
keys to the camp’s stockroom. From what I gather, it is not only kitchen
supplies that are in there, but everything for the bar too.’

‘And you think that if
we can get him onside he may siphon off a few freebies for us, is that it?’

‘Not exactly. His bird’s
challenged me and the other Irish lads to a drinking contest on his behalf. I
say that we get him half cut and take the keys.’

‘And what then? If you
clean the place out, the theft is going to be obvious and if you don’t, it
won’t be long before Pierro realises his keys are missing and has the locks
changed.’

‘Don’t worry, I have it
covered. Niall has found a place in town that cuts keys and it is open on
Sundays. Pierro will find his “lost” keys long before he recuperates from his
hangover.’

‘Sounds like you have it
all planned out. You’re turning into quite the criminal kingpin in these
parts.’

Colin appeared offended
by the suggestion.

‘What do you mean?’

‘First you flood the
market with free weed and now you’re turning to bootlegging. You’ve only been
here for a week and already you have a résumé that would make Al Capone
envious.’

‘I’m not profiting from
any of this.’

‘Robin Hood was still an
outlaw.’

A broad smile appeared
on the Irishman’s face.

‘Robin Hood; I like
that.’

As Colin began to view
himself in a more glamorous light, the four backpackers entered the outskirts
of the town. Although small, there was still a section of suburban housing that
had to be traversed in order to reach the commercial main street. The area was
clearly impoverished, with overgrown gardens and several boarded windows. If
they had stumbled across this place at night time they would not have felt
safe. A group of five Aboriginal youths were gathered on a street corner.

Matt thought that he
recognised one of them as the boy whom he had seen shoplifting the previous
week. He was not certain though. The group could not have been aged more than
sixteen or seventeen years old. They were chatting amongst themselves and paid
little attention to the passing girls. Then when Matt and Colin approached they
began to disperse with only two of them remaining behind. One of these had an
unlit cigarette in his hand.

‘Could you spare a fella
a light?’ the youth asked.

Colin reached into his
pocket and pulled out his lighter. He flicked the flame on with his thumb and
extended it towards the youth, who lent forward with the cigarette in his mouth
and took a deep inhalation to allow the flames to take hold.

‘Thanks,’ the youth
said. ‘You fellas are not from around here, are you?’

‘Is it that obvious?’
replied Colin. ‘What gave it away?’

‘Your shoes. They don’t
sell clobber like that in ‘Bandi.’

Colin smiled to humour
the boy.

‘My shoes, eh? You’re a
funny guy. You know, I’d love to stay and chat, but we don’t want to keep our
lady friends waiting.’

He glanced back at Matt
and nodded for him to start walking again.

‘Not so fast,’ said the
Aboriginal youth, placing his free hand on Colin’s chest. ‘I said that I like
your shoes.’

This time his tone had
changed. It became more demanding, more aggressive.

‘You want me to give you
my shoes – is that what you’re saying?’ asked Colin.

‘I’m not saying man, I’m
telling.’ The youth spoke with a rhythm that seemed to be trying to mimic
American street speak, which he had no doubt picked up from a movie or rap
video.

‘Well, I’m telling you
to fuck off,’ said Colin.

The Irishman grabbed
hold of the boy’s wrist and pulled it from his chest. He then turned to say
something to Matt, briefly taking his eyes off the youth. The young would-be
gangster took full advantage by removing the cigarette from his mouth and
pressing the lit end firmly into the back of Colin’s forearm

This caused the Irishman
to shriek out in pain and before he or Matt could react the youths had already
started running away. Instinctively, they both wanted to follow, but a far more
pressing concern was developing further up the path. Rose and Jenny were coming
under attack from the other three gang members.

‘Shit!’ Matt cried out.

The Englishman was so
angered by the surprise attack that he unconsciously shoved Colin out of the
way in order to run at the remainder of the gang. He sprinted as fast as he
could, but a few seconds was all the youths needed.

Rose, being the elder of
the two sisters, naturally tried to protect her younger sibling. She did this
by placing herself in between Jenny and the muggers. This left her dangerously
exposed herself. One of the gang grabbed onto the base of her handbag and
tugged violently. When she did not let go, another of the kids slapped her hard
across her cheek with the back of his hand. This time she had no choice but to
let go and her attackers ran off having successfully acquired what they wanted.

For Rose, the pain was
supplanted by pure and unadulterated shock. She began to feel nauseous and
faint. As Matt caught up with her, she fell into his arms, preventing him from
giving chase.

‘Jesus Christ – what
happened?’ he asked. ‘Did they have a knife?’

‘I don’t think so,’
Jenny replied, through her sobbing. ‘She hasn’t been stabbed, they just hit
her. Is she going to be okay?’

‘She’ll be fine,’ Matt
told her. ‘I think we should get her checked out just in case though.’

Jenny nodded
frantically, terror still controlling her every thought.

‘What the fuck just
happened?’ Colin demanded, as he caught up with the rest of them.

Matt noticed his friend
had a slight limp and assumed the youth with the cigarette must have kicked his
shin before running away.

‘Rose has been hit,’
Matt told him. ‘One of those cowards smacked her in the face. Obviously the
plan was for that little shit to distract us whilst his friends made off with
the girls’ bags. They played us for fools.’

‘Those bastards!’ Colin
shouted, unable to contain his anger. ‘I’ll rip their fuckin’ heads off!’

He turned around,
scanning the area for signs of where they might have ran, but was unable to
pick up a trail.

‘COWARDS!’ he screamed,
unsure of where even to direct his rage.

‘That’s not helping,’
said Jenny. ‘We have to help Rose.’

Matt had managed to
place the elder sister down on the ground in a sitting position and she was
starting to come to. As her shock subsided, the pain increased, as if some sort
of equilibrium needed to be maintained. She rubbed urgently at her face, trying
to soothe away the agony. Colin crouched down and delicately pulled aside her
hand so that he could inspect the damage. There was already a considerable
bruise forming on her cheek. Fortunately the thug had missed her eye and though
painful, there would be no lasting effects. This did little to alleviate the Irishman’s
rage.

‘This is a tiny town,’
he said. ‘I say that we leave no stone unturned until we find those scumbags
and beat the living shite out of them.’

‘What will that
achieve?’ asked a still tearful Jenny. ‘All I care about is making sure my
sister is going to be okay.’

Matt recalled seeing a
police station on his previous visit to the town. This seemed to him like the
best place to start. They would be sure to have medical supplies there and
could also help with catching the muggers. It was a small town and chances were
that there would not be too many kids matching the description that they could
provide.

‘The police station is
only about a five minute walk from here,’ he said. ‘We should take her there.’

The others agreed and
they all helped Rose back up onto her feet. She could have walked unaided, but
Colin in particular did not wish to take any chances. He placed an arm around
her and supported her weight as they made the brief walk to the station. Matt
led the way, all the time keeping a keen eye out should any of the youths
return. Any thoughts of the planned celebration now long forgotten.

Chapter 10

The station had just one
officer on duty. If the laws of supply and demand were correct, this suggested
the town’s criminal fraternity was not usually very active during the weekend.
As the four backpackers entered, this sole upholder of law and order was hard
at work stretching his detective skills to the limit, trying to solve one of
the most difficult puzzles he had ever faced in almost thirty years on the job.
A bell was triggered by the opening of the front door that alerted the
policeman to the new presence in the room. He glanced up from the papers, which
previously occupied his thoughts.

‘Have any of you kids
ever been to a place named Constantinople?’ he asked.

Colin and Matt shared a
look of incomprehension followed by suspicion. After the ordeal they just
endured they were naturally on the defensive. Colin, in particular, was quick
to ensure he gave the policeman an alibi to prove he could not have been
involved in whatever happened at the place in question.

‘We’ve been together at
the caravan park all morning,’ he said. ‘I can assure you that nobody here has
been to Constanti-what’s-it. Isn’t that right, guys?’

He turned to the others
for their reassurances.

‘Don’t be a cretin,
Colin,’ sneered Jenny. She then turned to the police officer. ‘By Constantinople,
I assume that you mean Istanbul. My sister and I holidayed there once as
children, but I cannot see how that could possibly be of any relevance.’

‘Istanbul, eh?’ He
scribbled something onto the paper in front of him. ‘What is a word for someone
who is bad tempered and irritable?’

‘Angry.’

He briefly smiled, but
his face dropped when he looked down at his paper.

‘It can’t be angry as
this begins with a “T”.’

‘Tetchy, perhaps?’

‘That’s excellent.’ He
was completely unaware of the irony in the girl’s answer. ‘Now can you tell me
what Japanese horseradish is?’

‘No, I certainly cannot.
Can you tell me who I need to speak to in order to report a crime?’

The policeman was
disappointed, but he was also a professional with a job to do. He threw the
paper down onto the counter. It was a folded back copy of the Brisbane Morning
Herald. Local affairs did not warrant their own printing press so like many
things in this town the news came imported from the city.

‘How can I help?’ he
asked.

‘My sister has been mugged,’
replied Jenny. ‘It happened when we were walking into town from the caravan
park.’

The officer looked Rose
up and down. He was instantly drawn to the emerging bruise on her cheek.

‘And did the perpetrator
inflict that injury?’

This time Colin stepped
forward to answer. He was inwardly reeling from the way Jenny talked down to
him earlier and was determined to re-establish his authority.

‘Yes they did and they
also burned my arm.’

He held up his scarred
forearm for inspection. The opening in his skin was equal in diameter to the
cigarette that inflicted it, but it appeared larger due to the thickly
congealed discharge of blood covering it like a wax seal.

‘The first thing we need
to do is clean up that arm of yours,’ said the officer.

He briefly disappeared
into a side room before returning with a small metal first aid tin. From inside,
he removed some antiseptic cream and a roll of gauze. Rather than apply the
medication himself, he handed it to Colin, who in turn passed it on to Rose to
do the honours. All thoughts of the recent attack dissolved along with the pain
as she tenderly dressed the damaged skin. He may not have received his injury
as a conscious means of protecting her, but that did not matter. In her eyes he
was a hero all the same. For the briefest of moments they were locked in one
another’s gaze until the policeman interrupted their intimacy.

‘This will work best if
I interview each of you separately. That way you can all give a clear, unbiased
account without unduly influencing each other, either consciously or
otherwise.’

Colin was not
comfortable with the policeman’s plan. He turned and looked him firmly in the
eye.

‘I have no objections to
giving my statement alone, but I insist on being beside Rose when you talk to
her. After what she’s just been through there is no way that I’m going to let
you put her in the dock like she’s the criminal.’

‘I assure you that I
will not place her under any unnecessary stress.’

‘And I assure you that
she is not going into any interrogation room without me.’

The policeman looked
like he was about to object, but then seemed to think better of it. He lifted
up a cutaway section of the service counter to allow the couple through and
then led them down a short corridor into a back office.

‘The interrogation room
is for suspects,’ he told them. ‘This is where we hold the public interviews.’

They entered a small,
unimposing office. There were two desks that were both cluttered with files and
stacks of paper. Although there were no computers, the rafts of printouts
suggested that the station did, at least, have use of some twenty first century
crime fighting aids. Community action posters lined the walls, urging vigilance
and co-operation from the town’s law abiding residents.

The officer beckoned the
pair to take seats at one of the desks whilst he took his own seat opposite. He
was middle aged and in the light of the office it could be seen that he had a
friendly smile and kind eyes. He also sported the kind of handle bar moustache
that was normally reserved only for those trying to raise sponsorship for
charity or acting in a period drama on television.

‘This should not take
too long,’ he said. ‘First of all, we will need to establish a few basic
background facts.’

He retrieved a small
stack of memo-like papers from a drawer of the desk. The sheets were 3-ply with
white, pink and blue sheets respectively.

‘I am Sheriff Norman Lee
and I run this station. We are a small outfit. The only permanent policing
staff that we have here are myself and my deputy, who has been with the
department for seven years now. As you can probably guess, being a compact
community there is not much criminal activity going on in this town. You folks
have been extremely unfortunate to be in this position.’

Colin tried not to focus
too intently on the man’s moustache.

‘It’s good to know that
we aren’t keeping you from something serious like a murder investigation or
anything,’ said the Irishman.

The sheriff smiled.

‘There has only ever
been one murder in this town and that was thirty years ago, back when I was
still a cadet. Thankfully such evil times have never been repeated. Now can I
take your names please?’

‘I’m Colin O’Meara and
this is Rose Miller.’

The sheriff leaned
across the desk to extend his hand to both of them in turn.

‘Pleased to meet you,’
he said. ‘It’s a shame that we could not have met under less formal
circumstances. Are those your full names?’

‘Anne is my middle
name,’ said Rose.

Colin merely nodded as
the sheriff began to fill out the tops of the reports. The pair were also asked
to confirm their ages and nationalities.

‘You said earlier that
you are staying at the caravan park. I assume you mean Joe Wilson’s place.’

Colin looked to Rose for
guidance. She nodded.

‘I guess so,’ he
replied. ‘I was only ever introduced to him as Joe. He hasn’t been around much.
There’s some other guy running things at the moment.’

The policeman put down
his pen, indicating that the following part of the conversation was going to be
off the record.

‘I take it you are
referring to Mr Butler.’

Colin shrugged.

‘That’s the guy’s name,’
he replied, ‘but we know very little about him.’

The sheriff paused
whilst trying to decide how much information he could divulge to the couple. He
wanted to warn them, but not so much that it would cause them to worry unduly.

‘Mr Butler has somewhat
of a chequered past. Whilst I have no reason to believe that he has not
reformed his character, I would recommend that you keep a good professional
distance from him and let me know if you notice anything suspicious about his
behaviour.’

‘We just work for the
guy so there’s not a lot I can say about him.’

Colin was intrigued by
the Policeman’s unexpected line of questioning, but did not want to ask too
many questions himself. The matter was soon laid to rest, however, as they went
on to give their formal accounts of the attack. Colin went first and completed
his statement swiftly. Rose, on the other hand, was interrupted by a buzzer
from the reception shortly after beginning her account.

‘I’m terribly sorry
about this,’ said the sheriff. ‘I will be back as soon as possible.’

He stood and then left
the office leaving the two of them unattended. The police station was small and
a muffled conversation could soon be heard coming from the reception.

‘What do you think that thing
with Rhett was all about?’ asked Rose.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’
replied Colin. ‘I said from the start that your man has form.’

The Irishman craned his
neck to check the doorway before standing and making his way to a bank of
filing cabinets lining the far wall. The concern in the sheriff’s voice when
Rhett was mentioned had heightened his suspicions regarding the old man. If
their boss was known to the police then the chances were that they would have a
record on him. He began looking over the filing cabinet.

‘You can’t do that,’
protested Rose. ‘What if you get caught?’

‘Don’t worry,’ he
assured her. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

Colin estimated that he
would have a window of at least two to three minutes before the sheriff
returned. All he wanted was to find out the reason behind the man’s criminal
record and he would never again be given a chance like this. It was an
opportunity too good to miss. The cabinets were labelled alphabetically and he
went straight for A to E. He pulled on the drawer, tentatively at first, as he
assumed that they would be locked, but it slid open without resistance.
Flicking through the dividers, it did not take long for him to find the file
labelled
Butler, Rhett
.

‘Hurry up,’ urged Rose.

The file was thicker
than Colin had anticipated and it was mostly handwritten. He reasoned that
merely scanning through the pages would be too time consuming, so instead he
took his mobile phone from his pocket and began capturing images of each page
in turn. He did not have time to copy them all, but he thought that a half
dozen or so would be a large enough sample to piece together Rhett’s criminal
past.

At the back of the file
was a mug shot that must have been close to thirty years old at least. The
features were not instantly recognisable, but the fire behind the eyes was
unmistakable. Time may have drastically changed the way that Rhett looked over
the years, but Colin guessed that the same cold and bitter attitude was there
from the beginning. He added a copy of the photograph to his illicit collection
before replacing the file and dashing back to his seat.

Colin’s heart was
beating fast. Rarely had he felt such excitement and he liked it. Just moments
after he rejoined Rose at the desk the sheriff returned to conclude their
interview. The policeman was blissfully unaware of the covert espionage mission
that had been executed in his absence. If the lawman suspected what Colin had
been up to the Irishman would be in big trouble.

‘I’m sorry about that,’
the sheriff apologised. ‘We will pick up where we left off and then I only need
to take down an inventory of what was stolen before I can let you go.’

Rose did not dwell too
long on her account of events. She was far too concerned that the sheriff would
uncover Colin’s recent misdemeanour. They had come to report a crime and she
had no desire to be convicted of one herself. Matt and Jenny were still seated
at the reception waiting for their turn to give statements when Rose and Colin
came back out from the interview room. Colin told them that he would walk Rose
home and that Matt should hang on to do the same for Jenny, who was the next to
be called into the office.

Once they had left the
station, the couple decided to skip the idea of carrying on with their shopping
trip and instead headed straight back to the park. Rose was naturally nervous
about anybody seeing her bruises so Colin distracted the group whilst she went
back to her van to conceal them as best she could with make-up. As soon as the
news of the attack had been passed on, Stephen and Niall offered to go into
town to pick up the shopping as they were all now more determined than ever to
enjoy their party.

***

Jenny was not surprised
in the least by the question with which the sheriff began his inquiry.