Field Walking

by John Bishop

boss lady. I was called into a meeting she had with a lawman name of John Sutton. He’s sitting on a few grand what’s owed to you for services rendered, and he’s told her he advised you to lie low for a while. Turned out she was already the full bottle on the man known as William Smith. She and Lenny never had no secrets from each other. And one thing you can say for the d’Aratzios is they look after their own and they never welsh on a deal, even when it’s not writ down, which is most of the time as you’d know. Seems you told Sutton you were locked into a contract with Kalawonta Shire and you didn’t want to break it sudden and raise suspicions about your involvement with certain...events around the town here.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Mrs d’Aratzio appreciates your caution. Says she likes a man who thinks about things. She knows you approached Lenny because you’re keen to find a more...shall we say... “interesting” occupation than the spraying of weeds. So I’m here, my friend, with a plan to get you on the move. How do you feel about industrial dermatitis?’

  ‘Come again?’

  ‘Industrial dermatitis is the term the doctors use for a skin condition blokes in the pest control business often get if they come into contact with nasty chemicals.’ Savvy picked up his haversack and opened it while he continued talking. ‘I’ve brought you a list of the most common causes of industrial dermo. Lenny became the full bottle on the subject when he caught a bloke bringing it on deliberately to get compo. After that the poor bugger really did need compo. Know what I mean? I’m told this skin condition can be a bit uncomfortable, but there are good treatments, and it goes away quick. The thing is, we have a doctor who will give you a certificate recommending you look for work that doesn’t involve the risk of future exposure. Are you getting the drift of this plan, Bill?’

  ‘I am.’ Gavin looked at the list of chemicals Savvy had placed on the table. ‘There’s a couple of sprays here I use sometimes.’

  ‘Okay. So if you’re prepared to put up with a bit of a rash for a week, you rub some of the stuff on your arms. I’m told you should dilute it so it doesn’t burn. With any luck, in a day or two you should have flaky marks on your skin. Naturally, you’ll show it around and grumble about it. It won’t surprise anybody when you say you’ve heard of this condition, ’cause it’s a hazard of the business you’re in—now isn’t it; but you never expected to get it yourself. You’ve also heard there’s a doctor in Sydney, specialises in this sort of problem. Blow me if you don’t arrive back in town with a doctor’s certificate. You’re gloomy as hell too because you’ve built a good business. On the plus side but, the doctor has put you in touch with a leading firm of pest and weed controllers in Sydney and they’ve offered to give you a desk job as an adviser to folk who ring their pest hotline. Abracadbra!—as the magician says. You join us at the offices in William Street with a job what’s completely legit and takes all of two calls in a busy a week.’

  ‘That’s brilliant. Savvy.’

  ‘We have our moments. Now, when does your contract run out?’

  ‘It’s on a year to year basis. I’m meant to give three months notice if I’m not aiming to renew. That would have been the beginning of this month.’

  ‘But a man with a medical condition and a doctor’s certificate...?’

  ‘Such a man would be forgiven and maybe even given a send off.’

  ‘Specially if such a man knew a bloke who was prepared to quote for the contract.’

  ‘And I know such a man, do I?’

  ‘Not yet. But one of the franchise holders is sure to see an opportunity to branch out.’

  ‘Better and better.’

  ‘Have I won meself a second beer?’

  ‘My frig is yours Savvy.’

  ‘Always took you for a gent, Bill.’

  ‘So what happens next? For you I mean.’

  ‘Well, you being so grateful for this favour, you’re going to do me one in return.’

  ‘Name it.’

  ‘Tomorrow, I want you to drive me past a place called Arramulta.’

  ‘Tony Blake’s place?’

  ‘I need to have a bit of a look. I’m sure you’ll be asked for your advice when you get to Sydney, but the boss lady wanted me to get a feel for the place.’

  ‘No problem. I often check for weeds at both ends of the old bridge. I’ll park in the middle and you can have a good look-see while I’m going about my business.’

  ‘Perfect. Then tomorrow night, around this time, a bloke passing through is going to see if I’m waiting at the spot he dropped me off. And I will be.’

  The Unexpected

  Friday 16th October 1992

  Saturday 17th October 1992

  Tony and Emily were woken early on a Friday by the noisy arrival of Riccardo, the tree surgeon, who had left his home near Bullermark at 3am and picked up his assistant on the way. As the truck pulling a cherry picker came to a halt in front of the house, Tony emerged tying his dressing-gown.

  ‘Sorry to wake yer, mate. This here is Alphonse, me offsider. We thought if we got stuck into the job at crack’a dawn we might be done and dusted by sunset and avoid ’aving to come back.’

  ‘Splendid. If there’s anything you need, just ask.’

  ‘Thanks, but we’re sweet, mate. Wife packs a mean esky. Is the truck all right here? It won’t fit through the gap to the orchard.’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  By the time Tony went back inside, Alphonse had unloaded a small tractor and was hooking it up to the cherry picker.

  Throughout the morning, the rasp of chain saws grated across the normally peaceful countryside. Before lunch, Tony took a walk into the orchard to check progress. Riccardo was in the cherry picker selectively removing branches and dropping them to the ground. Alphonse was cutting and stacking the discarded branches. They had finished nearly half of the rows and the pruned trees looked well shaped. It was obvious Riccardo knew his job.

  After lunch, Emily left to go into Arajinna township.

  Tony had not noticed the noise from the machines had stopped until he heard knocking at the front door. He found Alphonse on the verandah. ‘Riccardo says you should come and take a look, mate.’

  At the end of the last row, one tree remained to be pruned. Riccardo was in the bucket of the cherry picker at ground level. As they approached he said, ‘My dad always told me to expect the unexpected; but this takes the cake. How do ya feel about a ride in the cherry picker?’

  ‘Will it take my weight?’

  ‘No worries.’

  ‘And you think it necessary.’

  ‘I do, mate. I really do!’

  Riccardo helped him into the bucket and manoeuvred them up between the branches on the side nearest the river. Although the ride started fairly smoothly, Tony found himself clutching the edge of the bucket in a fierce grip.

  ‘Watch ya head mate,’ Riccardo said as he edged them into the canopy of the overgrown tree. Tony ducked under a branch and risked a glance down at the receding ground. Riccardo brought their journey to a halt and they bounced gently. When Tony looked up again what he saw made him forget the swaying bucket. This was certainly “the unexpected”. In front of him, almost close enough for him to reach out and touch it, there was a human skeleton. Its was tied to the tree trunk by the wrists, ankles, and neck, with the arms stretched along branches to the sides. Having originally been used to secure a complete body, the ropes were now loose and the skeleton had slipped to a bizarre angle. There were no clothes.

  Tony gazed at the skeleton before saying, ‘I am rarely at a loss for words; but what does one say?’

  ‘Well I said: bugger me!’ Riccardo confessed. ‘And I won’t tell you what Alphonse said. Rude bastard! I assume I’d better leave this bloke as he is—if it is a bloke, might be a sheila for all I can tell.’

  Tony looked over his shoulder. ‘Whoever this was seems to have been tied facing out towards the ranges. Presumably that’s why this tree was chosen—end of the row, top of the slope.’


  ‘Luck’s a fortune—for Alphonse and me I mean. I’d of been real ticked off if we found it back there and had to pack up with the job half done. Leavin’ one tree isn’t a big deal. I can do it sometime later. I guess you’ll have to call the cops. I’d love to be a fly on the wall when they hear about this.’

  The previous discovery of a skeleton in a shallow grave had been kept from public knowledge because nobody who knew about it had talked. The story of the skeleton in the tree was out within ten minutes of the opening of the Bullermark Arms next day. Alphonse was a regular in the public bar on Saturdays—drinking, talking, and listening to the races and the football, from opening time until late. On 17th October, he had a tale to beat all other gossip from the previous week, and he told it many times. There was an abundance of imaginative theories about the skeleton. Had they been communicated to the detectives appointed to investigate the mystery, none of these theories would have come close to the eventual explanation.

  The Valley People

  Monday 26th October 1992

  For the first time in a decade, the editor of The Kalawonta News held the presses on Monday 19th October and delayed publication so she could devote the entire front page to the return of Dr Gunter Karp, with his assistant Dr Bryony Patton, to examine the latest find. City papers picked up the story on the Tuesday. An archival photograph of Tony, used by a Sydney tabloid, showed him with mutton-chop whiskers, which he had grown for a laugh in the seventies