by Drew Lindsay
‘He’s not dead.’ Joy Mackay opened her tattered handbag and retrieved a photo of her husband. She handed it across to the Police Inspector. Roy Tanner took the photo and examined it briefly. The Queensland Police Inspector rose and walked to the window. He watched the Port Douglas traffic crawl past in the street below.
‘We’ve searched everywhere Joy. You know that.’
‘Not everywhere.’
Inspector Tanner turned to face the elderly woman. ‘It’s a big ocean out there. His boat turned up wrecked on Woody Island. We’ve searched the island with a fine tooth comb and all the other low islands. The sea claimed him somehow.’
‘What about Skull Island?’
‘It’s private and the owner jealously guards his privacy. We were allowed to search it in company with his people and found nothing.’
‘I don’t trust him. There is something wrong out there.’
‘Joy, we’ve done all we can. He’s been missing for over three months now and the evidence points to misadventure at sea. He shouldn’t have been out there on his own anyway.’
‘Will you keep his photo posted in the town for a bit longer? Someone might have seen him.’
‘Alright, I’ll have his photo circulated again but we can’t go on and on with this.’
‘Thanks Roy.’ The elderly woman stood and zipped her bag closed. ‘I’ve never given up hope. Winston knew the ocean well. He respected her. He could read her moods better than anyone.’
‘I know that, but if he was alive, we would have found him by now.’
Joy Mackay walked to the door and opened it. ‘You’ll call if you hear anything?’
‘You know I will. You going OK up at the Point?’
‘I’m fine. Thanks.’ She walked through the Police Station, out past the front desk and into the street. The Far North Queensland heat in comparison to the air conditioned Police Station, stopped her for a second. She waited for a break in the traffic and crossed the road, heading towards the Marina Mirage car park.
Joy drove her somewhat battered Holden FE sedan out of town and turned north on the Captain Cook Highway. She stopped at Mossman and bought fruit from a road stall. A large brown sedan pulled up on the other side of the road, opposite the fruit stall. The windows were darkly tinted, but that would not attract unnecessary attention in this part of Australia, as most of the vehicles had tinted windows for sun protection. Joy glanced at the large vehicle but then went back to her shopping. She drove further north onto the Mossman Daintree Road and to her home perched on the side of a heavily timbered hill, close to the Coral Sea at Rocky Point. She parked underneath the main deck of the house and gathered her bag and fruit.
Joy’s luxurious pole house had been built by her husband in the late 80’s. It commanded a stunning 120 degree view over the Coral Sea. As she climbed the stairs to the main deck area, she noticed the same large brown car drive slowly past, heading north. She could not make out the occupants because of the dark glass tint. She felt the car was travelling much too slowly than usual for that stretch of road and suspected the occupants must have been looking at her home. The car rounded a bend and was out of sight.
Joy opened the unlocked door and entered the huge lounge room. She moved through to the kitchen. All the floors in the house were polished timber and the kitchen cupboards and bench tops were constructed entirely from various types of timber, sourced locally by her husband. She put the bag of fruit on a bench and walked back into the lounge room. The Coral Sea glistened as it reflected a clear blue sky.
The large brown sedan moved slowly back into sight on the coastal road. This time it had Joy’s full attention. She tried to see the license plates but it drove out of sight behind a large palm grove. She waited. A full minute went by, then two, then three. The car did not appear again. She slumped back into one of the white leather lounge chairs.
‘I am not going to pieces,’ she said softly to herself. ‘I just wish Winston was here. I don’t want him to be dead.’ She put her head in her hands and wept.
“****”
Chapter Nine
