Red Dust

by Fleur McDonald

  How can this morning be so ordinary when I've just found out my life for the past eight or nine years has been a lie? Gemma wondered. She picked up a small rock and tossed it up and down, thinking. Suddenly overwhelmed by anger, she threw the rock as hard as she could at the trees.

  'You mongrel, Adam Sinclair,' she screamed. 'What have you done?' The galahs flew into the sky, squawking with alarm.

  One rock after another slammed into the tree, with 'You bastard!' punctuating every throw. At last her arm was sore and she stopped. The anger had dissipated slightly to be replaced with a burning desire to make sure she was not implicated in this terrible scheme. She would not take the fall for Adam.

  * * *

  Pat and Jess were sitting at the kitchen table with coffee and cereal when Gemma returned to the house.

  'Morning,' said Gemma, walking past them. 'I'll just have a shower and be right out.' She felt like a stranger in her own home. Her life, an illusion.

  The phone began to ring. 'I'll get that in the office.'

  Grateful for the reprieve from their sympathetic eyes, Gemma picked up the phone. 'Hello?'

  'Hi, Gemma, it's Ben Daylee. Hope I haven't called too early.'

  'Don't worry – I'm always up by now. I got your message last night, but a few things came up and I couldn't get back to you. Sorry about that.' Gemma was amazed she could have a normal conversation given all that had happened.

  'No worries. How're things out there?'

  Without warning a lump appeared in Gemma's throat. 'Ah . . .' She couldn't get the words out.

  'Gemma, are you okay?'

  The tears threatened again, but she took a deep breath. 'Um, no, actually. I got some pretty bad news last night and I'm still a bit upset by it.'

  'I hope it wasn't your dad?'

  'Oh no, he's doing fine. No, it was about my late husband. Seems he might have been involved in a few illegal dealings I didn't know about.' There. It was out in the open. She figured she might need Ned and Ben's help to clear her name, so there was no point in hiding what she'd learned about Adam.

  'I see,' replied Ben.

  'You don't sound surprised.'

  'To tell you the truth, I'm not. I'd heard a couple of things, but had no idea how accurate they were.'

  'Well, you know the old adage – the one closest is always the last to know. Are you and Ned out this way today? It would be great to talk to you about a couple of things I've found out.'

  'I'm not sure what Ned has planned, but if you want to see him, I reckon he'll be there. He's pretty fond of you.'

  Gemma smiled into the phone. 'He's been such a huge support to me since Adam died. I'd really appreciate his advice now.'

  'I'll see what we can sort out.'

  Gemma came to the table looking refreshed after her shower. Jess gave her a hug and handed her a cup of coffee.

  'Thanks . . . I've been thinking,' Gemma began softly, 'that if this is as big as you all seem to think it is and Adam was involved, then we need to pool our knowledge. That was Ben on the phone . . .'

  'Who's Ben?' interrupted Pat.

  'He's the new stockie working with Ned. Anyway, I've asked him and Ned to come out this afternoon so we can tell them what is going on. Ned was here a few weeks ago counting all the sheep and cattle because Adam's stock numbers didn't tally with the numbers on the computer or the numbers Bulla and Garry have. I want to know if he saw anything in our mobs that indicated trouble. I find it hard to read earmarks from a distance whereas those guys who are looking at stock all the time could probably tell me if there were animals in the flock that shouldn't have been.'

  'That's a great idea, Gem,' Jess said. 'I think perhaps we should tell them about those wethers that were in Reimer's paddock, as well. You never know what those guys hear. They're walking encyclopaedias on every farm in the district.'

  'Jess, I was wondering if you would go through my books and see if you can pick up anything funny. I don't think I'd be able to tell – plus I still need to be looking after things outside. We've got shearing coming up in a week or so.'

  'Yeah, of course, Gem. You know I'll do anything.'

  'Pat, I don't want to tell Mum and Dad what's going on – I don't want to worry Dad. Okay?' Gemma looked at him with raised eyebrows and stern eyes.

  'No problemo, sis.'

  'I think we should talk to Dave too, but I'd really like to talk to Ned first.' They all jumped at the sound of a knock at the door.

  'G'day, Jack,' said Gemma when she opened it, pasting a smile on her face. 'How're you feeling this morning? The fellas said you were crook yesterday.'

  Jack grimaced. 'Yeah, pretty crook yesterday, Gemma. Not feeling so hot today, either – was wonderin' if I could have the day off?'

  'Yeah, that's fine, Jack. Do you need anything? I think I've got some lemonade somewhere if you need something to settle your stomach.'

  'Nah, I'll be okay, just need to have a camp. I'll catch ya tomorrow.'

  'No worries, call if you need anything.'

  Jack headed back to the shearers' quarters as fast as his stom ach would let him, dialling as he went.

  'I wandered over to ask for the day off because I still feel like crap and I overheard something,' he said as soon as the phone was answered.

  'Yeah? What did you hear?'

  'She had a redheaded woman and a bloke in there with her. I reckon the fella is her brother, down from Queensland to help look after the old man's farm. Anyway, Gemma asked the other woman to go through her books to see if she can spot anything funny in there, and she's asked Ned and that other bloke out to see if they saw anything strange when they were out counting the stock. But Bulla or Garry must have told them that the wethers were here 'cos they were talking about telling Ned about it.'

  'Ah, so she does know about that. How's her demeanour?'

  'Her what?'

  The other man sighed impatiently. 'How did she seem? Scared? Angry?'

  'Nah, she seemed fine to me. Offered me some lemonade to help my guts.'

  'Right. Good job. Talk soon.' The phone went dead.

  After he had hung up, the man stared into the distance for a few minutes. Things were beginning to move. Now, how to handle it? He dialled a number.

  'Yes?'

  'It's me,' he said.

  'I know. I recognised the number.'

  'Miss you.'

  'Me too. Do you have news?'

  'Yeah, Gemma knows about the wethers being dumped on Billbinya and she's asked Jess to go through her books. And Ned is heading out there today to talk to her.'

  'Okay, keep me posted.'

  'Did you hear anything much at the pub?'

  'Refuse to answer until I get a coffee. Otherwise I'll tell Worksafe that I don't have a safe work environment. That you don't supply enough coffee.'

  Dave flashed Craig a look and swung into a deli they were just passing. Craig climbed out of the car asking, 'Do you want anything?'

  'Better get an iced coffee.'

  'No worries. Hey, lookee here, isn't that the two stockies from Jones and Hawkins you were telling me about?'

  Dave turned in his seat and saw the white Commodore sedan towing a trailer with lamb scales on board turn into a car park. Ned was driving as usual and Ben was in the passenger seat.

  'G'day,' said Ned, heaving himself out of the car. 'Didn't think we'd be seeing you again,' he said to Dave.

  'Oh? Why's that?' asked Dave, leaning out of the window.

  'Well, I thought you'd get all of your info and then leave town.'

  'Nah, mate, I'll stay till the job's done.'

  Ben looked curiously at Craig and Dave caught the look. 'Oh, this is a mate from Adelaide. Craig Buchanan. Craig, these are a couple of fellas I met last week, Ned and Ben. Stock agents, I believe. Me 'n' Craig don't get to catch up much so he's up spending a few days while I work.'

  'G'day,' Craig nodded to the two blokes.

  'Well, you've found the best place in town for B 'n' E sandwiches
and coffee,' said Ned, affably. 'I come here every morning, and I look like it!' Ned rubbed his large stomach.

  Everyone laughed.

  'Well, looks like this is what the doctor ordered then,' said Craig, moving towards the door. 'I'm in need of grease. Bit of a late night, with a few too many beers. Catch you later.'

  'Yeah, catch you,' echoed Ned. Ben was yet to say anything. Dave and Ned chatted briefly about the day's plans and then Ned moved towards the shop. Ben nodded to Dave and followed.

  'Best bit of grease I've eaten in a while,' mumbled Craig through his bacon and egg sandwich, as they passed in the doorway. Ben grinned. He knew how important grease was after a big night.

  Craig hopped in the car and Dave started the engine. 'You're supposed to be keeping a low profile,' said Dave. 'You shouldn't be seen with me if you're going undercover.'

  'Well, get me a company car and I'll be happy not to be seen with you. Man you're cranky today. It's supposed to be me that's sore. What's the problem?'

  'Let's get to the office and I'll tell you.'

  They drove in silence while Craig devoured his sandwich and coffee.

  Back at the station, Dave set up his notes and got his thoughts together before he started.

  'Why don't you get over to the whiteboard and note down the important facts as I read them out from my notes. I want to look back on this and see if we can find the common thread I think is there.' Dave flicked through his notes until he found the one he wanted. 'Okay, first interview. Brathen Farms, owned by Ken and Judy Brathen. They think they've had about three hundred ewes go missing over the past twelve months. Not all in one lot – just ten here, twenty there. Haven't seen any obvious evidence that the stock was taken. They know Adam and Gemma Sinclair only by sight. The farm is about a hundred k from Billbinya.' Dave looked up. 'I'm sure Billbinya is involved somehow. First there was that anonymous tip-off about Adam Sinclair – that's why I asked all the interviewees if they know Adam or Gemma. Also, it appears Adam started a Best Farmers group about a year and a half ago. It's one of those discussion groups that seem to be springing up everywhere. Gave him the opportunity to visit other stations and farms unannounced. But here's the clincher: yesterday afternoon Gemma informed me that the stockmen think they might have seen the stolen wethers in one of her paddocks.'

  Craig whistled. 'That's a lot of circumstantial evidence stacking up. Do you reckon there's any chance of interviewees talking about the fact you've asked about the Sinclairs?'

  'As in any interview, I ask that what we have talked about isn't discussed with other people so the case isn't jeopardised. But you know what country towns are like. If the real story isn't known, someone will make it up. Not much we can do about that. Next interview: Pleasant Park, owners Mark and Karen Neverby. They think about three or four hundred young sheep have gone missing over a period of two years. No obvious signs of theft. They don't know either Adam or Gemma Sinclair but have heard of them. Their farm is about one hundred and twentyfive k from Billbinya.

  'Third interview: Carter Downs, owners are Jim and Mary Carter. Theirs was one of the farms that had the wethers stolen out of the yard. They're about thirty-three ks from Billbinya. Prior to that they had about ten steers taken about six months ago. Ned Jones, their stock agent, had been out to help them weigh the cattle and had taken a count. When they got them in to load them for sale, they were ten down. Jim drove all over his farm and couldn't find them. He couldn't find a broken fence where they could have got out so he is convinced they were stolen. He knows Adam and Gemma Sinclair, is involved with the Best Farmers group Adam set up and he and his wife have been invited to Billbinya for a meal several times.

  'Fourth interview: Sam and Kylie Smith, Glenby. Know Adam and Gemma Sinclair and caught up with them once or twice in the past year. They're about sixty k from Billbinya and had three hundred wethers stolen out of their yards. Not sure if any other stock has gone missing.' Dave took a breath while Craig looked at the notes on the whiteboard.

  'So in the last two years all the interviewees have had stock missing, all within about a hundredkilometre radius of Billbinya,' Craig observed.

  'Yeah, and I got another half dozen cases exactly like them,' Dave said, waving his notes. 'But let's ask some questions that we need answers for. If it was Adam Sinclair, how did he know where the stock was? That's a biggie. One lot of owners didn't even know him, so how did he know the layout of the farm? What stock was in which paddock? I'm sure he wouldn't have risked just driving over the farm. Second, what happened to the stock once it was taken? How did he get onto the farm without the knowledge of the owners? Who did the stealing while he was wining and dining the victims? There are too many variables at the moment. Yep, no doubt he was involved, but how and why?'

  'Yeah, I get you. So where do we start?'

  'Let's begin by running a criminal history on everyone living on Billbinya.'

  Chapter 15

  Jess and Gemma were talking seriously about the invoices spread out in front of them when Bulla banged on the door and walked in. Pat had gone back to Hayelle to check the stock and then on to Adelaide to see Jake and Sarah.

  'Hey, Bulla,' said Gemma in surprise, then she looked at her watch. 'Hell's bells – sorry, I didn't realise the time. You must want me to help draft the sheep.'

  'Nah, you're right. Me 'n' the dogs can do it.' Bulla had superb dogs. 'I just wanted to know if there was anything special you wanted me and Gaz to take care of while you're away this weekend?'

  'The weekend? What's today?' she asked. 'Thursday?'

  'Friday,' Jess answered with a smile. 'We've got a dinner date tomorrow night, remember? I say we head off tonight.'

  'Do you think I can go? I mean, the stock squad guy is supposed to be coming back at some stage.'

  'He didn't say when,' Jess pointed out. 'I bet he doesn't work on weekends anyway. I reckon we should take off.'

  'Okay, well I've got the shearing contractor organised for Tuesday, Bulla. We're going to need to get the two-year-old wethers in. I think it would be best to start on those. The wool looks great and I guess Ben will bring a shipper buyer sometime in the next couple of weeks, so it'd be a good idea to get all the shearing cuts healed up before they come to look. I was going to go for a drive today and check what sort of feed is out in the back paddock. We're going to need to get some condition on those steers soon. I think they need to go to the feedlot in about October,' Gemma said, turning back to Bulla. 'By the way, I'm sorry I didn't come out to the shed this morning to catch up with you. I found out some really disturbing news last night and I couldn't face you guys. Hang around the sheds this arvo and I'll explain everything, okay? Ned and Ben are coming out as well so I can tell them at the same time.'

  Bulla was nodding. 'Yeah, no worries. I saw Jess's ute when I got to the sheds this morning so I sorta figured somethin' was up. Gem, has this got anything to do with Sinny?'

  Gemma took a while to formulate her response. 'Yeah, it does,' she said eventually, looking down at her hands.

  Bulla nodded and left the house.

  Gemma was quiet for a while and Jess busied herself looking at the folders of invoices that Gemma had brought out from the office.

  'C'mon, Jess,' said Gemma at last, jumping up. 'Let's go and clean the shearing shed for shearing.'

  'What about –?'

  'Nah, the books will wait. Let's go.'

  They grabbed buckets, scrubbing brushes, brooms and other cleaning paraphernalia and headed towards the shearing shed.

  'I don't know what it is about shearing sheds, but I love them,' Gemma said. 'I used to really enjoy going up to the shed at Hayelle after the shearing had been done and just sitting, smelling the sheep smell and reading.'

  'Yeah, I know what you mean. I can remember as a kid, Dad used to put me on the wool table and swing me around. We had one of those old round tables that were cemented into the floor and you had to stand in one place and turn the table as you skirted the fleece,' Jess replied
.

  Gemma nodded enthusiastically. 'Yeah, I remember them. You would stand in one spot and swing it as hard as you could, trying to get the pieces of wool left behind to fly off when no one was looking. Your Dad used to get aggro with you doing that 'cos usually one of the rousies would go to throw a fleece and the table would be spinning! Funny how different we are,' mused Gemma. 'I mean you grew up on a farm too and yet you knew right from when you were little you were never going to stay. The towns have always held something for you and yet you get the best of both worlds, living in town and partying and coming out to the farms when you need a fix of country!'