Chapter 27. Stating The Obvious; and Cleaning Out The Casino
Watts glared at the vacant creek bank a moment then quickly turned back and made himself busy with changing the tyre. His boss was prone to lashing out when things went wrong and it was obvious he was ready to explode.
Tyler was walking in circles, face crimson, fists clenching and unclenching, unaccustomed to coming off second best at anything he undertook. Suddenly he turned and strode off to where they’d descended the cliff.
Perhaps he didn’t believe what had happened, Watts mused, breathing a little more easily. He could hardly believe it himself for that matter; certainly it was something he would never forget.
On completing the changeover he secured the flat tyre onto the external carrier, threw the jack and wheel wrench on top of the loading bay chaos and slammed the doors on it all. He then went to the front and leant on the mudguard. When he saw Tyler returning he opened the passenger’s door and stepped in.
Tyler went straight to the driver’s side, grim and silent. From behind the wheel he checked their GPS position, then partly unfurled his map to assess their situation. A few moments later he started the engine and set off along Cadney’s wheel marks, all without speaking. On coming to where the Holden had exited the creek he stopped briefly, switched the transmission to low-range and set the Toyota to the climb.
Once on level ground again he drove directly away from the creek. On coming to the Community access road he turned left, then turned left again at the highway, towards Queensland – still without speaking.
Alone at the Toyota Watts had made a number of ugly comments – about the tyre, the Toyota, Cadney and life in general – but since then he’d held his silence.
It was a good policy at times like this, certainly where Tyler was concerned – not that there’d ever been a situation quite like this one before.
Eventually Tyler’s bottled-up rage subsided enough for him to speak. “We have been bested, Mister Watts,” he said grimly (stating the rather obvious, Watts thought) “but we are not yet done with and the issue remains. And I can assure you, sir; even now we shall have our gold.”
“Don’t worry, boss; we’ll get it all right,” Watts ventured, aiming for just the right level of enthusiasm.
“Indeed we shall. I have to say, however, that it is all very perplexing. Not only did our adversary know what he was looking for, but it seems he knew exactly where to look for it.” Watts had no answers and was not inclined to take the conversation further.
After about six kilometres the Cruiser slowed. Tyler selected a suitable escape point from the highway then turned and drove over the windrow. For a while they headed northward, travelling cross-country along a broad corridor of lightly grassed and gravelled open woodland. Suddenly he wheeled the Toyota around and parked by a stand of gidgee trees. Nearby was an outcrop of large boulders.
“Start a fire and make some tea, Mister Watts,” Tyler said as he switched off the engine. “I have to consider our options.” He went to the rear of the wagon and opened the doors. Several items fell out as he surveyed the chaos.
The cargo barrier had saved them. But for that the whole load would have crashed forward as they’d gone over the cliff. He dragged out a folding chair and opened it in a patch of shade, then returned to the Cruiser for his geology map.
Watts left Tyler to his thoughts. Once the fire was lit he filled the billycan and put it by the flames. Back at the Toyota he pulled their table and a second folding chair from the upturned loading, righted the car fridge and tuckerbox and put mugs, milk and tea makings to one side. The rest he tidied as best he could. Then, rather than join his moody companion, he walked over to the outcrop and cracked the corner of rock or two with his geopick.
On his return the water was boiling, so he threw in a handful of tea leaves then lifted the billy away from the fire. As it brewed he set up the table and second chair, retrieved the mugs and other tucker box items he’d set aside and sat down. A short time later he poured the tea.
The two sat and sipped in silence. Tyler was brooding and Watts remained wary. Suddenly Tyler drained his mug then banged it firmly on the table and stood up.
“Reload our things Mister Watts,” he announced. “We are going to retrieve our gold. And smartly, too, if you will. We have to be ready before our bird can fly.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well look at the fellow’s situation. The gold is no good to him per se. He’ll want it cashed, and as soon as possible if I’m any judge. The question is where best to do it?”
“In Alice Springs I suppose. Or in Queensland.”
“Correct; he has a choice, which means we must intercept him before he commits to one or the other. And while we have the fellow in hand we might ask as to how he knew of the gold’s location, and why he chose to recover it this morning, rather than last month or last year, the sooner to be wealthy. I have to tell you, Mister Watts, this whole business is exceedingly odd.”
Back at Bonya Community Jack Cadney was sitting on his veranda mulling over similar issues. Tyler and Watts had obviously known what they were looking for when Frazier disturbed them in the trench, even if they were digging at the wrong end. The question was how did they know?
Just then Danny Papa came walking up the road and Cadney suddenly remembered the tools he’d borrowed. They were still at Great Northern, forgotten in his hurry to get away. He’d not returned them as agreed so Dan was coming to collect them.
Cadney jumped up and began apologising as Danny came in the gate, reassuring him that the tools would be returned as soon as possible. “I don’t know what I was thinking about, Dan,” he said, “but if you want I’ll get in the car and go straight back for them.”
“What say you don’t,” Dan replied. “Margaret’s plans involve a fair bit of digging and this means I won’t be able to do it.”
“Okay; if you say so.”
“Yeah. And you know what I really like about it?”
“No. What?”
“Well for a change it won’t be me that’s in the shit. It’ll be totally down to you. I mean it’s bloody tragic, ay.”
“But there must be other picks and shovels around?”
“There are; and it’s taken me a while to hide the buggers. But this is a private job. I can’t afford to be seen using Community tools.”
“God no. Bloody hell, Dan; perish the thought.”
Just then an ear shattering clamour burst from the street. Both men turned, startled by the unexpected assault on their hearing.
A wrecked car was rolling to a stop in front of Cadney’s gate. It had no glass, no driver’s door, no bonnet, no exhaust pipe or air cleaner and one of its raggedy tyres was half flat. The racket was coming from its engine bay, along with clouds of billowing white smoke. Intermittent gouts of flame were erupting from the carburettor.
Inside were three young teenage boys, all laughing with delight at having succeeded in starting the motor. When they saw Cadney and Dan they waved and shouted excitedly, not a decibel of which could be heard above the open exhaust manifold and the blasts from the carby.
Immediately behind them was a red Ford panelvan belonging to the driver’s older brother, a stockman who’d been conscripted into assisting by pushing their car bumper-to-bumper. By pure chance the engine had burst into life just as they’d approached Cadney’s house. Now it just stood there, motor gasping and backfiring on three of its six cylinders, the adolescent driver trying to coax enough revs from it to get the calamity moving.
“I thought you were going to tow that wreck to the dump?” Danny yelled at Cadney’s ear. Just then a fourth cylinder began firing intermittently and the engine’s tortured convulsion-rate increased – as did the mind-wrenching din. Buoyed by this improvement the driver tried releasing the clutch. The clamour and engine revs died as the car began dragging itself away.
As soon as started moving the red panelvan pulled out from behind, horn blaring. As it hurtle
d past the gate the two young stockmen inside waved. Cadney and Dan waved back, then watched as it disappeared around the next corner.
Cadney waited until the first car had struggled a little way after it before attempting to answer Danny’s question. “I did,” he said eventually. “I pulled the radiator and seats out, too, and kept all the tyres and rims.
“Next thing I know those three are going around trying to scrounge enough rubber to get it moving again. Course they haven’t got a dollar to scratch themselves with, so in the end I relented and lent ‘em back the wheels and tyres.”
“What about the radiator?”
“Radiator? There’s no radiator. They just joined the top and bottom hoses with some bent exhaust pipe and filled it with water. There’s no fuel tank either; the petrol’s in the plastic oil bottle hanging from the sun visor.”
Dan walked over to the fence and watched the car crawl around the corner after the panelvan. When it had disappeared behind a screen of its own white smoke he turned to come back – and saw the damage to the front of Cadney’s Holden.
Cadney looked embarrassed. “Ar, you know… It gets a bit exciting when you’re chasing down a wounded roo.”
“That’s easy to fix,” Dan chided. “Just shoot a bit straighter.
—So, when do we divvy up the gold?”
“The Gold?!!” blurted Cadney. His blood ran cold. An instant later he remembered their earlier conversation.
He put an unsteady hand on Danny’s shoulder and forced a comradely smile. “Maaate…” he said shakily. “I hate to break it to you like this, but I never saw so much as a speck of gold.” His words were the exact truth but the sudden panic had left him clammy and cold.
Dan didn’t notice. “Bugger,” he muttered. “I suppose this means the new Lamborghini has to go on hold.”
“For the moment at least, I’d reckon. Until you clean out the casino, anyway.”
McCullock's Gold Page 35
