Crocodile Spirit Dreaming - Possession - Books 1 - 3

by Graham Wilson

  He suggested she come in, explaining he was a couple minutes off finishing his own report and would just like to go through what she said, and make sure it fitted with what he had written. Then he could finalise his report and provide both to his senior officer.

  She agreed, she seemed curious to see where and how he worked and in no rush. In the end it took half an hour, but he could see how her little touches improved what he had written. Now it was as good as possible at this early stage. And maybe, because of their prickly start, they had a real sense of teamwork.

  As they walked out together, day’s work done, he realised he had left his private car at home. He said, “I was going to invite you for a drink, but I need to leave the police car here as I am not on duty tonight, and my private car is at home.”

  She looked at him with a new seriousness. “Well isn’t it lucky that I came in my own car, and you can come with me. That is assuming that you meant it and it was not just an excuse to get out of us doing it.”

  So they went together, him wondering what the doing it was, a drink or something more. They drove towards the city, having both agreed that was the best place to head for on a Friday night. As they came down Bagot Road, Alan had a sudden thought. “Do you mind if we make a short detour,” he said.

  “Of course not,” she replied, looking questioning. He directed her to turn off the main road and brought her through the back streets to Charlie’s place.

  It was only half past five and they would not stop long. It should be early enough not to interrupt the engagement party.

  He said to her. “There is someone who lives here I would like you to meet.”

  Another questioning look was her only reply. Again Charlie was sitting on the verandah with a beer, this time sharing with a young fit looking man, who sat in the chair next to him.

  Alan walked over. Charlie pretended to hide his face again. He said, “Jack, this is the policeman I was telling you about, the one who caught me out over the fish yesterday. Now he has come again. I think he want to take me away to jail.” Then he laughed uproariously.

  Alan joined in the mirth, “You wish old fella, you are just trying to run away from that Rosie, you know she will give you much bigger trouble than me tonight.”

  He did the introductions, saying, “This is the lady you should thank for finding out about the fish. She is much cleverer than me and saw what you had done straight away.”

  They all laughed and agreed that all women were much smarter than their men folks.

  In the end they did stay there for the night and became extra guests at the party. It was a case of the more the merrier, and even though the ‘doing it’ was only telling stories, drinking and laughing together, by the end they really were the best of friends. They both knew that, in their own time, there would be much more to doing it together, they were already planning lots of doing things together including another visit to the billabong tomorrow.

  The only thing that spooked them a bit was Charlie’s warning again at the end of the night to be real careful at that place to keep away from the bad crocodile spirit. Sandy had not felt anything but Alan told her about the weird experience of the crocodile watching him. “I am not normally superstitious,” he said, “but there was something about the way that croc watched me that really freaks me out when I think about it.”

  He could feel her scepticism but let it be, he did not want to spoil the enjoyment of her company and of the night together.

  Chapter 5 – Crocodile Communion

  It was mid-morning before Alan called to collect Sandy in the police car. He had first gone to the office to talk with the investigation leader, who was sitting by the radio, listening to the account of the onsite investigation and confirming arrangements.

  Last night they had brought out a five metre cube shaped steel cage that could be lowered into the water from an onsite crane, which had come with it. The crane had an extensible arm which would let it get out to about 12-15 metres from the bank. This could lift and place the cage in various locations, with the diver inside, and safe from crocodiles. Once it was on the bottom, the diver could systematically search the billabong bottom area between the metal grids which were 200 millimetres apart.

  It was not perfect but they thought a diver inside could do a good search of the billabong bottom for the first ten to 15 metres from the shoreline in the area adjacent to where the body was found.

  Then, based on the findings in this area, they could decide on whether to try to widen the search area, either by using boats to support and move the cage or by moving the location of the crane along the river bank.

  The diver had two-way communication from inside the cage with the crane driver; meaning that the cage could be raised, lowered or moved sideways as required. Most of the water was 3-5 metres deep so depth was not really an issue. They now had two divers on site, both kitted out. They expected to start in the next half hour and use them on rotation doing one hour long turns about.

  By the end of tomorrow they should have covered the accessible area from this crane’s site and then they could decide on whether to widen the search area.

  DNA results were now back on the blood stains found on the ground and on the head tissue. They showed they were from the same person. However there were no matches with their existing DNA database meaning the identity of the person was still unknown. They also had a couple of foot imprints and tyre tracks at the site which may be significant. Apart from that the site was remarkably free of anything that might give clues.

  The senior detective’s view was that they would try to wrap up the site investigation by the end of tomorrow, as it did not look like there would be much more found outside the water. He also agreed that Mark and the pathologist should return to the site, partly to look for anything that might constitute a weapon and partly to do an onsite review of anything significant that came from the water.

  They might also get some further information about the most likely time for the event and, even though it seemed a low chance to get useful information, he agreed that it was worth talking to staff at the two roadhouses between Humpty Doo and the billabong turnoff from the Arnhem Highway.

  Alan put his swag and a spare one on the back, saying to himself that it was just in case something really significant turned up and they needed to stop overnight. A part of him hoped that there would be a reason for them to stay in the bush, perhaps even share the same swag for a night together. But his gentlemanly part said Sandy must be given the choice of whether to stay over and if so the option of her own bed.

  He collected her from the address she had given, a block of flats in Nightcliff. She was waiting for him out the front with a small overnight bag. He asked her if she needed to be back for the night. She said no, she had no commitments until her work on Monday. He told her he had put in his swag and an extra one, just in case something major arose that meant he should stay out. She nodded but otherwise showed nothing of her thoughts.

  Now, having his head around the state of the investigation, he filled her in as he drove out along the Arnhem Highway. Sandy sat curled up in the passenger seat of his police Toyota Land Cruiser.

  She had tied back her hair and was wearing light but functional bush clothes, shorts, shirt with pockets, and leather sandals which both protected her feet and showed off the rest of her long legs. He could not help glancing at her from time to time, those smooth brown legs were eye-catching, not to mention the glimpse of pale skin where her top shirt button opened. A couple times she arched her back and stretched like a sleepy kitten. Must keep my mind on work, he thought.

  She had been gently digging for information about him, girlfriends, private life, interests, family, and at the same time volunteering information about herself; that she had graduated with high marks a year ago, and had found her initial job in Glebe Coroner’s Office, Sydney, a bit stultifying. As she had no real attachments she had jumped at the chance when this job in the Territory came up.

&
nbsp; He told her he had grown up as a kid in Alice Springs, so was a true blue Territorian, but his parents moved to Newcastle when he was ten for work. But he had always loved the NT and had come back and joined the force back in Alice Springs, once the chance arose. He had spent ten years doing many jobs in a range of locations, gradually progressing.

  In reply to her inquiries about girlfriends he said that he had a serious girlfriend from Alice Springs when he worked there but she had gone off to Sydney, wanting to live in a big city and had found someone else there who liked that lifestyle. So over the last few years he had various short term girlfriends but nothing very serious. He found his work consumed most of his life.

  He probed a bit in return. “Surely there was some man who was sad to see you go, and tried to keep you there?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you know, I was always a bit work obsessed too and did not seem to have much time for men, I mostly turned down the dinner invitations, using work as an excuse.

  “I think I had my mind fixed on getting away for quite a while and did not want to get too attached, in case it held me back. Now I am glad I am here, but I am still a bit cautious about the attachment thing.

  “So while I don’t just stay at home by myself whenever I am off work I am not quite the social butterfly. But I do love meeting the genuine people of this place, those who have a bond with the land, like Charlie and Rosie last night and who also like to enjoy life.

  “It’s not that I am a prude, but I think there must be a more to life than being a party person. I want to do what I do well and, even though it sounds corny, to do my bit to make the world better somehow.”

  He nodded. “I am probably a bit like that myself.”

  She nodded back, “I know, I think that is why I like you.” With that she sat up straight and lightly rested her hand on his arm for just a few seconds, casual yet deliberate, an unspoken sign of affection that made him feel good inside.

  They decided to go straight to the site and leave any questioning at the road houses until the return leg of the journey. They were both unconsciously eager to see if any new discoveries had been found. It did not seem long until they were driving up to the billabong.

  As they approached the cage was being lifted out of the water and into the air with a diver inside and then being swung back to the land.

  They came across to greet those gathered around the diver, as he came out. Alan knew the site supervisor, Bill, who had come out once the murder investigation was launched. He introduced Sandy. Once the diver had removed his tanks, mask and his search findings a second diver took his place and the crate was returned to the water for the search to continue.

  Now they all stood around as the first diver finished removing his wet-suit and started to unpack sample containers. Bill introduced Alan as the second in charge of the investigation. Alan asked the diver if he had found anything that he thought was of particular importance.

  The diver screwed up his face, as if thinking how to reply. “Bit hard to say really. Nothing really specific, nothing that looked like human remains and nothing that looked like objects that particularly related to anybody. A couple old soft drink cans and some other common rubbish.

  “But there was one thing that did match what I was told to look for. Someone said to me, before I started, that there could be stuff from an old fireplace which had been burnt and thrown in the water and I was to keep a lookout for anything like that. And there was a place in the corner closest to the bank, barely a metre out, which looked like that. Quite a bit of charcoal and grey ashy stuff. It was in a layer a few inches thick and a couple feet across. It started right at the edge and ran down the slope to the bottom, with most of it in a pile there.

  “I could not really tell, down there, what was in it. So I scraped up as much as I could and put it into that container over there,” he said, indicating a large metal bucket, the size of a twenty litre drum. “So someone might want to sift through that and see if anything important is there.” With that he shrugged and went off to finish sorting out his diving gear.

  Alan picked up the container and carried it over to a work trestle where he found a sieve and some shallow trays. Sandy held the sieve as he first poured off the water then poured the sludge through. It was clearly fire residue, a fine grey ash with bits of charcoal and other fragments of small detritus. Sandy took a couple small samples of the sludge, and then carefully separated out each significant fragment caught in the sieve which she bagged separately. It all seemed pretty non specific, what you would find in any fireplace. Gradually they worked their way through the pile, returning all finished samples to a second bucket.

  Then, as they were three quarters of the way through the sieving, Sandy saw something glint in the light. “Aha, what is this?” she said, digging out a small metal object from the sludge, flat and about two centimetres long by one centimetre high; it looked like brass or bronze with an emerging green tarnish.

  Sandy rinsed it in clean water. It was a small brass object which had the letters MB forming a raised profile one side, with a flat backing plate on the other side. She looked at it from all angles, handling it with great care.

  “I don’t want to damage the surface. We may be able to get expert advice about how long this has been in the water to get that tarnish. But I think it looks like a set of monogrammed initials which would be attached to an object like a briefcase to identify it in a personal way.

  “I wonder if our gentleman was Mr MB, it looks like someone’s initials though of course it may just be a brand.”

  Sandy continued checking the remaining sludge while Alan discussed the site investigation with Bill. First they chatted in general terms about all the organising, staff rostering and transport. Sandy waved them both over to show them another finding, this was clearly a combination locking mechanism from a briefcase or similar, with the lock twisted and only part remaining in place. There were also scrape marks on the metal as if someone had used a heavy implement like a chisel to break it. They all nodded and agreed it looked like parts of the same briefcase from which the MB had come.

  They stood watching as Sandy finished her work and then came over to join them. As she reached them Bill said to Alan. “It is funny but this place is almost too tidy for what you would expect. If you go on along the side of the billabong another two hundred yards to the next open camping area you start to find the bits of rubbish you would expect to see scattered around, nothing much but things like bits of old paper, a cigarette butt, a bottle top, an old can, the things a fisherman might have dropped over the last few years.

  “But around this camping area there is almost nothing. It is like someone has spent a lot of time going around, tidying and cleaning the site, making sure there was no evidence left to find. And you could almost imagine that someone has swept over it as well.

  “It is four or five months since it has rained. So you would expect to find quite a bit of stuff like animal or bird tracks in the soft dirt patches, particularly this close to the water. There are the odd bits, like a lizard track over there. But, once again, if you compare it to other places nearby, there should be more. So as well as picking up rubbish and other things it is like someone has swept the dirt surface, maybe using a branch. There are even a couple places where it looks like a person scraped the surface to remove marks and also where someone broke off branches a month or two ago; so it could all be part of the same thing.

  Sandy joined in, nodding as he described the swept and cleaned look. “Yes I wondered about that when I was here two days ago. I could not put my finger on it clearly, the way you have now, but it did all seem a bit too tidy.”

  Then the man continued. “But there is something else, and it’s curious too.” He led them to the edge of the water a few metres along, where the soil was soft and damp and a low branch from a bush partly obscured the view from behind. Here, in the soft dirt, less than half a metre back from the edge, were two well-formed footprints, both heav
ily imprinted into the soil. Those are the only male sized footprints we have found that are older than the last couple days.

  “There are a few recent ones which we assume belong to your fisherman friend, Charlie, as well as some recent tyre marks which match the wheels in the photo you took of his car.

  “I think these footprints were made by someone who was next to the water’s edge between one and two months ago. You can tell they are old from the dirt, twigs and leaves which have gathered in them. They are remarkably distinct for something of that age, and the heel imprints are much heavier than the toe imprints, like someone stood here looking out for a long time without moving, or more likely, considering the weight distribution, they were squatting on their haunches. I can almost see a man squatting here, contemplatively gazing over the water, for a long time before moving.”

  Then he led them to the depression which they had noted the other day, the place where they thought the former fireplace had been. It was now covered in a plastic sheet and taped off.

  “We need to protect this place; I think it could be important,” he said. He removed the sheet and pointed to a place on the ground. “I know you looked at this the other day, but then it was covered with a fine layer of dust and leaves. Now we have carefully taken that away.”

  Alan whistled. “I think you are right, this is really something.” Indented into the dirt right at the edge of the fireplace depression was a single footprint. But it was much smaller, not child sized, but more the size you would expect from a small to medium sized woman.

  Bill continued. “Unless I am mistaken, that is the footprint of a smallish woman, and I would almost swear it was made right at the time the fireplace was dug out. If you look carefully you will see the ground at the edges where it was not dug out, has a different look to the other ground around. It is like someone chucked a bucket of water on the ground and then, while it was wet they stepped on the wet ground with one foot. If it had happened at another time, even a day later the ground would have been dry and there would be nothing to see.