'Dunno how we're going to find anything here, mate,' Jess said. 'There's crap everywhere. Do you actually use everything in this place?'
'Mostly. There's so much stuff needed for fencing, fixing machines, utes and all that. And it's a bloody long way to go to town if you need something. Better to keep it all on hand if you can.'
'Where do you keep all the manuals for the machines?'
'Over there on the bench in that tin box. Garry likes them at his fingertips.'
Jess walked over and opened the box. She sifted through the contents while Gemma looked behind the boxes of parts, tins of oil and jerry cans full of petrol.
Pat wasn't faring well in the shearing shed. Hours had passed, during which he'd searched through the drawers where all the stencils and wool books were, pulled open cupboards and run his hands along the tops of the thick wooden wool bins. He'd already searched through the wool packs, lifting each one up to make sure nothing had been slipped in between them; there weren't any hidey-holes or sneaky corners.
Sweat began to trickle down the back of his shirt. It was humid after the storm and the shed didn't let any breeze in. Sighing, Patrick switched off the light and the shed fell dark. The echo of the tin slider door reverberated around the shed as he left.
He walked into the machinery shed and burst out laughing. Jess was up a ladder looking behind the shadow board. Her hair was covered in cobwebs and her hands were filthy. She'd obviously been sneezing and had rubbed her nose, smearing dirt and grease across her face. Her clothes were dirty and she must have sat in some oil at some stage as her shorts were stained black across the rump.
'Bet ya look like that every day after work, Red,' Pat said. 'Suits ya.'
'Nick off, Patrick,' Jess retorted mildly.
Gemma came out of the smoko room. 'Find anything?' she asked hopefully.
'Not a brass razoo,' Pat said. 'There's nowhere to hide anything in a shed like that. No nooks or crannies. Guess you haven't found anything yet either?'
'Nup.' Jess started to climb down the ladder. 'I haven't been through that section over there, Pat,' she said, indicating the corner where the fencing gear was. 'Can you do that?'
They worked quietly together for the next couple of hours, sifting through dust, cobwebs and old machinery parts. Finally, Jess stood up and said, 'I've had enough for today. My back's killing me and it must be time for a Scotch. Whaddya reckon?'
Gemma looked at her watch. 'Far out, today has gone quickly. I'm stuffed – but at least my body isn't as sore today. I think I'll give the painkillers a miss and have a drink instead!'
'Good idea,' Jess said.
Patrick's head appeared from behind an old rusty combine. 'Did I hear the word drink? Lead me to the fridge!'
Gemma felt better as the ice-cold rum slipped down her throat. Hearing a dog bark, she got up off the couch and looked out the lounge-room window. She could see a mob of woolly sheep being herded down the laneway by Bulla's faithful kelpie, Roady. 'Lucky for me I've got those two,' Gemma murmured.
'What's that, lovely?' Jess asked.
'Lucky,' Gemma said, turning towards Jess and Patrick. 'I'm very lucky. I've got two wonderful stockmen who would do anything for me, I've got a brilliant friend who would do anything for me, a brother who is basically okay and most likely would do anything for me . . .' She grinned and poked her tongue out at Patrick, who raised his rum glass back at her. 'And maybe a guy who likes me. I just know that we'll find those papers.'
'I'll drink to that,' said Jess, raising her glass in a toast. 'Now how 'bout I get us some tea?'
Pat finished his dinner and pushed his plate away. 'Right, I'm sick and tired of you girls twittering away. I'm off to have another crack at the shed without you lot getting in my way.'
He grabbed a torch and went back over to the machin ery shed.
The spotlights flooded the shed and a couple of frightened mice scuttled back under the fencing gear. Pat poked around the smoko room and walked the perimeter of the shed. Scratching his head he looked around. He really didn't know where to start. It seemed they had already been everywhere today. Maybe Adam didn't keep anything; maybe he didn't keep the papers here. Maybe he had a safe deposit box somewhere and they didn't have a hope of finding anything. Too many maybes, yet the outcome if the papers weren't found was too worrisome to comprehend. 'Think like Adam,' Pat muttered to himself. Lifting his gaze to the tin roof he couldn't see anything worth investigating – until his eyes fell on the cavity above the smoko room's ceiling.
Jess would have looked up there, Pat thought. No point. Wonder how she'd have got up there though. Too high for a ladder. He looked around and at the edge of the shadow board four pieces of wood caught his eye. One of them had a jimmy bar hanging on it but as Pat looked up he could see that they could be used as rungs to get to the cavity. If he climbed up them and walked across the rafters, he'd be able to look on the roof. 'Nah,' he thought. 'Too hard for Adam.' After fossicking in the shed for another hour, he looked again at the pieces of wood that could make the rungs of a ladder. Can't see anything better to try, he thought and grabbed his torch. He hoisted himself onto the bench and placed his foot onto the bottom rung to test it with his weight. Slowly he climbed to the top with his torch tucked under his arm and looked over the ceiling of the smoko room. Dust, cobwebs and dirt covered everything. 'Should've known it wasn't worth it,' he muttered as he directed the torch's beam around the small space. He was about to start his descent when the torchlight caught the glint of something shiny towards the back of the cavity. Stopping, Pat squinted towards the glimmer. He climbed onto the rafter and crawled over into the hollow.
Gemma and Jess sat next to each other on the couch, each with a drink in hand. At the sound of the dogs barking, Gemma got up and went to the window. She watched as a set of lights came up the driveway and pulled in at the shearers' quarters. Shearing again tomorrow. Thankfully some normality would return to life.
Jess asked, 'So you think someone is setting you up?'
'It looks that way.' Gemma was upset. 'I don't know who it is or why, and it's getting really scary. What do they want with me? What could I possibly have done to them? I mean, for Jack to talk about a set-up makes it sound personal.'
Jess listened thoughtfully then jumped up. Grabbing Gemma's hand she said, 'C'mon. I've got an idea. Our research methods could do with updating – poking around in sheds is so twentieth century.'
'What? What do you mean? Where are we going?'
'I've got one word for you, Gem: Google.'
They went into the office and Jess fired up the computer. She opened the internet browser and typed in the address of the search engine. 'Okay,' she said. 'What should we look up?'
'How about "Jack Marshall"?' Gemma suggested.
Jess typed in the name, then groaned. 'There's over nine hundred hits. I'm going to need another drink to get through that lot. Want one?' she asked, leaving the office.
'Sure,' said Gemma absently, taking Jess's place at the computer and starting to type. 'Bloody hell, Jess? Jess, get in here!'
Jess came running back into the office. 'What's wrong?'
Gemma was staring at the screen in horror. 'I added stock stealing to the search term,' she explained.
Reading over her shoulder Jess read: Rustling Charges Dropped. As she read the newspaper article from outback Queensland, her hand flew to her mouth.
The Queensland Stock Squad have today decided not to pursue the case against Brad Manstead and Jack Marshall, who had been accused of stock stealing.
Following a three-month investigation it appears there is insufficent evidence to charge the brothers.
Brad Manstead said in a statement, 'Although I am pleased with the outcome, I'm very angry that we have had to submit to this fruitless investigation. Neither myself nor my brother are guilty of the alleged crime.'
Bob Pergot from the stock squad believes there still is a case to answer. 'Unfortunately we just can't find the evidence we need to
lay the charges. This case won't be closed, but we are scaling down the inquiry.'
The investigation started when station owner Gordon Green reported 400 cattle missing from his property in northern Queensland. An investigation established the stock had been trucked south, but the stock squad lost the trail soon after the truck crossed into New South Wales.
Mr Marshall had been working on Mr Green's station at the time the cattle went missing.
His brother, Mr Manstead, admitted to owning a part share in an abattoir in South Australia, but categorically denied any involvement. 'The fact that Jack is my half-brother and I have a part share in BJN Abattoir is circumstantial evidence at best. We are innocent of all allegations.'
The girls stared at the screen, speechless. The kitchen door slammed and they heard Pat's footsteps coming towards the office.
'What's goin' on in here?' Pat asked as he stuck his head through the door. He looked at their faces. 'What's the problem? You both look like you've seen a ghost.'
Gemma waved her hand at the computer screen.
Jess's face grew red. 'That bastard,' she spat. 'That lying mongrel bastard. Print it off, Gemma.' She turned and stormed out of the room.
Pat approached the screen. 'Well, bugger me,' he said. 'So that's the Jack who worked here then, eh?'
'Yeah,' Gemma said faintly. 'And Brad is Jess's ex-boyfriend. She dumped him on Monday after he was horrible to me at a dinner on Saturday night. A little coincidental, wouldn't you say?'
'You're jokin! She's been going out with this Brad?'
'Mmm.' Turning to look at Pat, she realised he was hold ing something. 'Have you found something?' she asked hopefully.
'Y'know, I reckon I might have,' Pat said, looking very pleased with himself. 'Although maybe you should go see how Jess is.'
Gemma found Jess sitting in the lounge room with a fresh drink.
'The bastard,' Jess spat again as her friend entered the room. 'I can't believe it. He's done this before. He must have got together with me to get at you for some reason. I'm trying to remember all the questions he asked about you. I thought he was taking an interest 'cos you're my best friend. He owns a bloody abattoir and you've got a dead husband and stolen stock on your property. He's a bloody crim.' Jess leapt off the couch and began to pace the floor.
'Pat's found a box,' Gemma said.
Jess paused in her pacing. 'You little ripper,' she said. 'What's in it?'
'Haven't opened it yet. Thought Gem should do that,' Pat said, walking down the couple of steps into the lounge room. He set the box on the coffee table and they all looked at it silently.
'I know what that box is,' Gemma said suddenly as recognition hit her. 'Tim Milton gave him that box. He made it for Adam's twenty-first. It was before Claire's accident. Adam was going to ask Tim to be best man at our wedding but he was dead by the time we got married. Where did you find it, Pat?'
'It was in a little cavity up above the smoko room.'
Gemma reached forward and pulled the lid off the box.
Taking out the contents, she handed a stack of envelopes to Jess. 'These look like bank statements. You'll know what you're looking for.'
Jess took them and opened the flaps. Gemma looked at what was left. The letterhead of Ned and Bert's stock firm topped a list of sale summaries for the cattle that went to the feedlot. That was one question answered. She kept looking. There were letters that Gemma had written to Adam while she'd been on holidays with Jess, postcards from Alice Springs and Darwin. There was a letter from Adam's dad saying how proud he was of his son for finishing year twelve. At the bottom of the box was an envelope with her name written on it. The sight of the familiar scrawl caused Gemma's stomach to contract. Taking a deep breath she opened the envelope and took out a sheet of paper. Another, smaller envelope fell out marked POLICE ONLY. Underneath, in smaller letters was written, Gemma do not read.
Gemma put it on the table.
'What about I get some coffee? Reckon we could all do with some.'
'Good idea, Pat,' Jess said quietly, still looking at the bank statements.
Gemma unfolded the piece of paper she was clutching and started to read:
Dear Gemma,
The first thing I need to say is that I'm sorry and I love you very much. You are the best thing in my life and what I'm about to tell you will hurt you. I'm so very sorry.
Three years ago I was having trouble making the repayments to Mum and Dad. You know as well as I do how tight things were back then – no rain, no feed, the wool quality was crap and so were the prices. There were times I didn't think we would be able to make it through the year, let alone keep farming the next one.
I felt so trapped, Gem. Everywhere I went people wanted a piece of me. The bank, Mum and Dad, the Best Farmers group I started. Everyone. Even you, Gem. I felt as if I was losing control of everything.
I met a bloke at Dawns Rest one night and he offered me a way out: stock stealing. I'm assuming you have gone looking for this box because of something that has happened or is happening, so you must know a little bit about it.
Billbinya has been used as a holding paddock for the stolen stock.
All the details are in the enclosed envelope for the police. I have told them how it worked, the people who are involved and that you didn't know anything about it. This is your insurance. Gem, I never meant for this to go on for as long as it has. I want to get out, but I don't know how. The people who are involved are nasty pieces of work. They will stop at nothing to keep this ring going. You need to be careful.
Once all of this is sorted out, please, Gem, sell Billbinya. It's too hard for you to try and make a living from the way we are farming. Take the money and run. At least you will be set up and not want for money again.
I do love you, Gemma. I'm sorry for all the hurt I have caused you. I'm sure you will be okay though. You always were stronger than me.
Love,
Adam
Tears ran down Gemma's face as she reread the letter then handed it to Jess and Patrick to read.
'What do we do now?' asked Pat as Jess folded the letter carefully and put it back in the envelope. Gemma held the envelope for the police. Her fingers itched to open it, but she knew she couldn't.
'We call Dave and Craig and ask them to come out tomorrow. We give them the phone, the bank statements and the letters, tell them about the forged contract signatures and let them handle the rest. I haven't got the energy for anything more,' Gemma said.
Jess nodded in agreement. 'Yeah, I reckon that's the best way to go too. There's more than enough evidence to clear Gemma. Good old Adam, fancy thinking to leave a letter absolving Gem. He wasn't such a complete bastard after all.'
'Jess . . .' Gemma said tiredly.
'Sorry, lovely!'
'Oh, I'm so tired. I've got to get to bed or I'll be useless for shearing tomorrow.' Gemma rose and stretched.
'You'll be useless anyway. You can't do anything with that arm,' Jess reminded her.
'No, but I can drive a ute and Jack isn't here, remember, so someone will have to get the sheep in and out. What's the time? Is it too late to ring Dave?'
Jess looked at her watch. 'Yeah, I think it might be, but we'll call him first thing in the morning. Give me all this stuff. I'm going to sleep with it under my pillow.'
'Don't dribble on it and smudge the writing!' Pat said as he left the room.
'You're lucky there isn't a coffee cup following you,' Jess called to his back. Turning to Gemma she gave her a hug. 'How do you feel?'
'You know, I'm shocked, stuffed, sore and my eyes feel like I've been crying forever, but I feel like a big weight has been lifted off my shoulders. What about you? What about Brad?'
'Oh I dunno, Gem. Men . . .' She shrugged. 'Who can possibly understand them?'
Chapter 28
Monday morning dawned cloudy and cool in Port Pirie. Craig was standing outside the police station eating an egg and bacon sandwich and waiting for Dave. He felt quite
jumpy and wanted to get on with the day. He and Dave were going back to Billbinya that morning. They needed to question Gemma about the cattle that had been found on her station.
Craig felt awful about questioning her again after everything she'd been through, but the stock squad's work didn't just involve animals; they had to deal with anything outside of the law when they came across it, and he hated the assaults, the beaten women and rapes.
Dave came out of the station with his notes and files and they set off.
* * *
Within a couple of hours, Dave and Craig were sitting at the kitchen table of the Billbinya homestead facing Gemma and Jess. The stock squad officers had been surprised by the warm wel come – and Gemma's claim that she had been about to call them.
Red Dust Page 21
