The Consequences of Finding Daniel Morgan

by Peter J Robinson

  * * *

  The agreed plan next morning was for Charlie and Royle to deal with whichever vehicle arrived with the sheep at Cairns Airport, while Madge and Mandu returned to the sheep station in a rental car, intent on attaching a similar device to whichever vehicle remained behind.

  The two agents arrived early at that part of the airport where livestock shipments were checking in. They parked in the nearby staff car park, the white van from the station arriving thirty minutes later. Royle made his way across to the cargo shed, leaving Charlie where she could both see everything and direct him.

  The van came to rest nose-in to the loading bay and Reed entered the building, quickly re-emerging and opening the rear doors as a yellow forklift appeared. Expertly it approached the van and just as quickly reversed away, carrying what looked to Charlie suspiciously like Royle’s description of the garage containers, Reed following it back inside.

  “Are you seeing this?” she asked.

  “Got it, Charlie, give me a call if anyone comes out.”

  She watched as he approached the vehicle, smacking the magnetic device onto the back of the partially obscured fuel tank and carrying on walking.

  Fifteen

  Up at the rainforest lookout later, with both Reed’s vehicles now fitted with tracking devices, there were obvious signs of activity down below. There were no longer any white cockatoos visible in the outside aviaries, plus the four-by-four was backed up to one of the tin-roofed sheds.

  Madge and Royle were busy checking their own vehicle, ensuring they knew where everything was stowed. With no idea where the next twenty-four hours might take them, they had decided it made sense having Mandu along again; although Royle had the utmost confidence in Madge’s ability to cope with anything the outback might throw at them, they perhaps still needed a backup. Throughout the afternoon they took turns watching the buildings below, until Charlie reported a flurry of activity as the light was fading. All the four-by-four’s doors were now open and they watched bags and other items being loaded onto the rear seats, presumably because the cargo compartment now held the three bird crates. The driver, presumably Reed, was accompanied by the sole remaining Aboriginal worker.

  The vehicle’s lights came on in the dusk as Royle watched it move slowly towards the main highway, aware that its next move represented a defining moment. Assuming Reed’s intention was to rendezvous with either a plane or a boat, then a left turn here suggested they were heading north up the rugged Cape York Peninsula, with all the challenging possibilities that presented. Whereas a right turn indicated a probable destination somewhere south along the relatively close Pacific Coast. Or just possibly a long overnight drive, first south and then west all the way to the Gulf coast. With some relief he saw Reed turn south down the highway as they all climbed aboard the Toyota. Charlie drove, maintaining a three-kilometre gap on the tarmac road, with its near total lack of other traffic at that time of day.

  Royle studied his computer screen, aware that if Reed failed to take any of the next three left turns down onto the coast road, then he only had one logical alternative: to turn right ninety kilometres farther on and head west in the direction of Normanton, way over on the Gulf.

  Fifty minutes later Royle saw the moving arrow on his screen falter at the junction up ahead, before turning west and heading for the Gulf. Realising it looked like being a long night Charlie suggested that, as she and Madge were already in the front seats, they should continue with the first leg, leaving Mandu and Royle to try to get some sleep.

  Royle handed Madge the computer. “At the risk of stating the obvious, if he stops moving then we should do likewise. The last thing we need is to bump into him.” He glanced at his watch; it was almost eight o’clock. “He’ll probably re-fuel at Georgetown.”

  Madge too had some advice for Charlie. “There’ll be kangaroos all over the place, plus cattle, wild horses, camels and dingoes. It gets pretty busy out here after dark.”

  Shortly before dawn, with Royle driving, Mandu announced that the arrow on the computer screen showed Reed turning north, towards Normanton. A brief discussion followed on whether he might be heading for Normanton itself, at the inland end of a long river inlet, or even out towards the coast, perhaps intent on meeting a boat. But Reed then surprised them all by doing neither and instead passing straight through Normanton, apparently heading for the track up Cape York’s west coast and into some pretty rough country, which made little sense. They were making good time chasing Reed down, when Mandu announced the man had changed direction again.

  “There’s a disused old sheep station with its own airstrip off to the right here somewhere,” Madge suggested. “Perhaps that’s where he’s heading.”

  Royle stopped the Toyota, reaching under his seat for the map, which when he found it confirmed the existence of Madge’s sheep station. But could they be sure it was still deserted?

  “How long since you were here?”

  “Year or so. It was pretty run-down; I just pulled in overnight. The approach road divides, left to the airstrip, right to the buildings. Or was it the other way around?”

  Royle’s concern had to do with the fact that they were expecting an aircraft to be landing or taking off close by – right now they were a bit obvious from the air. If there were any buildings, then perhaps there was a chance of concealing their vehicle from the pilot’s eyes. Their immediate problem was that although the road map supported Madge’s recollection of a divided station track, were the buildings to the right or to the left? In the end it was Charlie who made the decision, rationalising that from where they were now stopped the land to the left, or what little they could see of it in the dawn half-light, looked flatter and therefore more suitable for landing an aircraft. In which case they should turn right at the junction and hope to soon find the buildings, which indeed happened.

  Royle immediately pointed out what remained of a three-sided barn, urging they get the vehicle under cover. That done, their obvious next priority was obtaining a view of the nearby airstrip, which involved making their way through low sand dunes in search of an observation point.

  Young Mandu was the first to the top of the dune, turning to encourage his three companions, who like him went down on their knees before peering over the top. Stretched out in front of them, left and right in the cool dawn light, lay the abandoned landing strip, whilst off to their right was Reed’s now dust-covered vehicle. Of greater interest, though, were the three people carrying a large crate from the four-by-four towards a twin-engine, short-takeoff de Havilland Otter – a crate containing what could only be white cockatoos.

  Royle extracted his camera, realising that even in this bad light his pictures would still show the aircraft’s markings. It also occurred to him that this was a well-planned operation, with the aircraft running to a tight schedule and Reed doing his bit to keep things on course. He got the impression this was not the first time these people had carried out this particular operation.

  It also crossed his mind that there could be more than one way of viewing their own position. To his certain knowledge there was a great deal of money involved in the business of wildlife smuggling, so they might reasonably expect these people to do all they thought necessary to protect their considerable investment. Potentially, then, this was an extremely dangerous game his team was playing.

  They continued watching while the remaining two crates were transferred from vehicle to aircraft, and with the help of Royle’s field glasses Charlie confirmed that the last container held mostly the smaller parrots. That done, the Otter’s engines roared into life, before the brakes were released and the aircraft rushed past them, lifting easily into the still morning air and setting a course for the top end of Cape York and New Guinea.

  They continued watching until the aircraft disappeared from sight, lying where they were in the eerie silence that followed, waiting for Reed’s vehicle to clear the ar
ea.

  “Well, that was fun,” Royle finally announced. “We came a very long way just to witness that. The question now, though, is can we get ourselves breakfast in Normanton?”

  In response to this, Charlie offered a cautionary word amidst the general feeling of self-congratulation. “We need to watch Reed doesn’t have the same idea about breakfast.”

  * * *

  Somewhere on their return journey back east to Cairns, Mandu was up front, with Madge driving. She half watched the young Aborigine open Royle’s Australian bird guide, flicking through the pages.

  “I don’t mean to offend, Mandu, but can you read that?”

  He did not seem in the least offended. Indeed, she was treated to a full version of the big wide grin. “Not good but it’s mostly pictures.”

  Madge tried to concentrate on the track ahead, noticing he had the book open at one of several pages showing the Australian parrots. He held it up for her to see.

  “This one,” he said, pointing a finger at the page; “that’s the one Alynski wants us to get.”

  She saw he was indicating the golden-shouldered parrot. “Phillip says they sell for hundreds of dollars.”

  “How much for this feller, then?”

  He was now pointing to another small parrot on the same page: a paradise parrot. “You got it wrong, mate, that one’s extinct.” Then, wondering whether ‘extinct’ translated for him, added, “None left anywhere.”

  Glancing across to gauge his reaction, she was surprised to see the young man smiling. “Not if you know where to look.”

  “You know where we can see that one?” Madge queried, again checking which illustration he was pointing to.

  “Bloody hard, though. Long way in bush.”

  Madge suggested that Mandu reach behind and give her boss a poke. Royle sat up, gently lifting Charlie’s head off his lap.

  “Time to take over?”

  “You’re right for a while, Phillip. Thought you might like to hear what young Mandu’s got to say about some parrots he knows of.”

  The lad twisted in his seat, holding up the page showing the paradise and golden-shouldered parrots, both of similar size and appearance.

  “We just watched some being put aboard the plane,” Royle responded.

  “You got it wrong, mate. Would you believe he’s pointing to the paradise parrot?”

  Then Madge addressed herself to the young Aborigine. “Question is, Mandu, do you trust us enough to say where these birds are?”

  There was a long pause, before they were treated to the now familiar grin. “I trust you guys, but big problem if Alynski or Reed find out.”

  Royle was clearly interested, as well he might be. If Mandu was to be believed, then this was of world significance. The young Aborigine was also right about the level of risk involved – it would be disastrous if word got out.

  “I’m guessing southern Queensland, over towards the Northern Territory somewhere?” he suggested. “We should check it out once this job’s done. Meanwhile, though, Charlie and I are going to try getting back to sleep.”

  Following this he was as good as his word, until the satellite phone rang some fifteen minutes later.

  “Phil. How are you doing?”

  “We’re good, Paula. How are you managing without us?”

  “I was wondering how you’re getting along.”

  “We were going to update you later,” Royle apologised, guessing the reason for her call. “The birds are already in New Guinea, if my laptop is to be believed. And the sheep crate with the eggs is somewhere in LA airport.”

  “Whitland will be pleased.”

  “How is he?”

  “Not bad, but not good either. They’re keeping him in for a few more days, his heart’s still not behaving. Oh, and I got the lab to examine that sample you sent. It’s exactly as you suspected.”

  Somewhere near the end of their long return journey to Cairns they passed a vehicle parked beside a small billabong back from the road. Down by the water’s edge was a lone birdwatcher.

  “Isn’t that the man you were talking to the other evening?” Charlie observed.

  Royle agreed that it was. “Hang on here while I have a quick word.”

  The three of them watched him speaking with the man for several minutes, even looking through the telescope, before the two shook hands and Royle returned.

  Charlie swung the door open for him. “Anything worth knowing?”

  “Not really. He seems a nice guy, though.”

  Back at their motel Royle seemed particularly pumped up, though not without justification. Between them they had achieved the undeniably difficult objective of not only making the four crates traceable, but also a goodly proportion of their contents, birds and eggs. Consequently, they now knew precisely where all these items were in the world. The crate containing the sheep, plus several hundred parrot eggs, cleared LA customs mid-morning Australian time and was now en route down Interstate 5, presumably heading for the Big Experience desert site. Similarly, the three parrot containers they had photographed being loaded aboard the aircraft had already crossed from New Guinea into adjoining Papua, on the Indonesian side of the island, doubtless in readiness for shipping to Belgium. In addition, Royle had transferred his photographs of the smuggler’s aircraft across to his laptop and emailed them to Angie Watts, who seemed suitably impressed when she replied.

  He was aware that any group of individuals this committed and with so much at stake, both financially and in terms of penalties if caught, must always be considered potentially dangerous. Extremely so, in fact, and Royle reminded Charlie that only a fool would assume total success. But what could possibly go wrong? Tomorrow morning they would tidy up any Queensland loose ends in preparation for their flight down to Sydney, before heading back home to America, while Madge made the long drive down to Sydney.

  There was not a lot to say about their evening back in Cairns. The three of them had lost a great deal of sleep over the past twenty-four hours, so it came as no surprise to find them all heading for bed soon after nine.

  Somewhere around dawn Royle’s personal mobile announced there was a text message waiting to be read. Seeing that it was still early he pulled up the covers and tried ignoring the phone, reaching out and running his hand along the smooth curve of Charlie’s back. In the end, though, curiosity got the better of him, so quietly slipping out of bed he took the phone to the window, more than a little sleepy.

  He pressed the button and the screen lit up. ‘Be at my place by 11.00’ was all it said.

  He read it through again, then a third time, not recognising the number. Who on earth was it from? And where was my place?

  He considered the message some more, sitting quietly in the dawn light. There was only one logical explanation. It had to be someone up here in Queensland, and so it had to be connected to their parrot enquiry. Quietly he pulled on a pair of shorts and let himself out, walking across to the waterfront and applying his mind to this unexpected development. Where was my place? Who had sent the message? And more importantly, what did they want from him?

  A key feature of the message was that it came to his personal phone. Although a lot of people had that number, few of them knew he was in Australia and even fewer that he was up here in Queensland. Whichever way he viewed this there had to be a connection with parrot smuggling. And if so, then it was difficult not linking the text message to the sheep station. Plus, there was one additional matter convincing him of a connection, something he had not so far revealed to either Charlie or Madge. Now this had happened he was not about to, though both seemed likely to find out before the day was through.

  Feeling happier about things, Royle headed for a shower, before pouring two coffees and stretching himself out beside Charlie. Carefully he explained his receipt of the message, plus his conclusion that the place he was ex
pected to be by eleven o’clock was the sheep station, further concluding that the most likely sender of the message must be the mysterious Sylvester Reed.

  Clearly this was a lot of information for someone still only half awake. “You intend just going in there as Reed demands?” Charlie queried. “He presumably knows we followed him, but what can he possibly hope to gain?”

  “I really don’t know. But we won’t find out unless I turn up there at eleven o’clock; we’re a bit short on options.”

  “How did Reed get your number?”

  He was slow in responding. “I’m not sure but I guess we’ll find out in due course.”

  Royle then outlined his plan to his partner, the finer details of which could be worked out on their way to the site. Both agreed it would be a good idea to take Madge and Mandu along, plus a second vehicle that Charlie would drive.

  As Charlie was going to be keeping watch from the forest track, Royle suggested she move any items she might need across to the rental car while he signed the contract in the office. Shortly after nine all three headed for the sheep station in the two vehicles, collecting Mandu en route. While Charlie remained up on the hill and watched there was no one else around, Madge and Mandu would be down at the forest edge next to the house, in case Royle shouted for help.

  He handed each woman a radio. “Talk to each other while I’m in there and if you need to take action then do it.”

  He sensed Charlie was uptight still.

  “Remind me what it is you’re hoping to achieve down there.”

  He removed the Browning from his waistband, doing the usual checks. “I’m going to have to play it by ear. We need to find out what this is about, but we won’t do that unless I get down there and talk to Reed.”

  Royle eased the Toyota along the driveway in the direction of the buildings, turning it around at the far end so it faced the exit if he needed to leave in a hurry. He had seen no sign of movement, but he did notice the unexpected rear end of a car projecting slightly beyond the wall of the house. He allowed himself a brief glance up the hill, partly to check the hire vehicle was not visible but also to ensure the sun was not reflecting off anything. There did not appear to be a problem.