Red Dirt Country

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Red Dirt Country Page 12

by Fleur McDonald


  Now here he was taking it out on Kevin.

  Bob wasn’t the only one suffering, Dave thought darkly. The painkillers Dave had taken just before arriving hadn’t kicked in yet. Sleeping on the ground and the rough roads weren’t his shoulder helping either.

  ‘Sorry about Bob,’ Dave said as they went over a cattle grid and turned towards a line of hills in the distance. ‘He’s not feeling that well today.’

  Kevin didn’t answer.

  ‘His heart’s in the right place, you know. He’s genuinely here to help.’

  ‘Why’d you go to all the other stations first then? It would have made more sense to come here.’

  ‘Just like the old fella said—we were following the map. All those stations are on the way here.’ Dave shrugged and looked out the window. The country was floodplain leading towards hills, but he still couldn’t see very far in front—tall, spindly trees blocked the view.

  ‘Sounded like he was talking down to me. Especially when he called me “son”.’

  Dave gave a laugh. ‘Yep, that’s Bob all right. He calls me son all the time. Annoys the hell out of me. In fact I had it out with him last night about that. Didn’t do much good though. First thing he said to me this morning was: “How’d you sleep, son?”’ He shook his head. ‘But he wasn’t being condescending towards you. I was there and I heard the conversation, he was just trying to get some facts about what’s happening out here.’

  Kevin chuckled and Dave thought he saw his shoulders relax a little. Then he slowed the car to a stop and turned to face Dave.

  ‘What you need to know is that I’ve put my head on the line for you lot,’ he said. ‘The Elders, they didn’t want me to say anything. Reckon there’s too much history of white coppers not helping us blackfellas. I’m trying to make them see that all that has finished—that you will help us and our community. I need your help—no, expect your help—so I can keep control and build the respect within my community. Without that, I can’t do the things I’ve come back here to do.’

  ‘Mate, I promise you, we are here to help everyone. You’ve got to know we’ll follow the leads and see where they fall. If they point to your fellas or to Kit or to anyone we’ve talked to, we’ll make sure the book is chucked at them. We’re straight down the line.’

  Kevin nodded. ‘That’s all I ask.’ He put the ute in gear again and started to drive off.

  Dave watched as the orange soil passed under the ute. He thought about what he knew of the crime then ordered his thoughts into questions.

  ‘How often do you head out on a bore run?’ Dave brought his notebook out of his shirt pocket and opened it to a new page.

  ‘This time of the year? Only about once a week. We’ve just finished mustering and know that all the mills are in good working order. We’ve sold the young stock. It’s only the water we need to keep an eye on now. But with the size of the place, those bore runs can take up to three days to complete, depending on what we find. I usually send one bloke in each direction so we can cover everything a little more quickly.’

  ‘And you pump the water into a tank then down into a trough?’

  ‘Yeah. If someone shut my bore off, the cattle have to drink all the water in the tank before the trough goes dry and they start looking for water.’

  ‘How long would that take?’

  Kevin thought about that. ‘Cattle drink about sixty litres of water a day. Can be more if it’s hot. Our tanks hold ten thousand gallons of water, which works out at about forty-five thousand litres, so they’re going to go dry in about three to four days. Say three, to be conservative. That’s four days without water by the time we realise there’s a problem, and when it’s hot up here, being without water isn’t an option. They’ll go looking for it. The more they walk, the thirstier they get, the more dehydrated they get. Then the outcome isn’t good.’

  ‘Could the cattle have put pressure on the fence and busted through onto Deep-Water while they were looking for something to drink?’

  ‘Of course. They’ll walk up and down a fence line until they find a pressure point they can get through. And don’t forget cattle can smell water—some say up to eight kilometres away,’ Kevin said thoughtfully. ‘Dunno if that’s true or not, but the old fellas have always told me that. Guessing if they can smell it, they’ll go looking for it, and if there’s a fence in the way, they’ll find a way through.’

  Dave wrote a couple of notes and then stuck his pen in his mouth as they continued to drive.

  ‘This bore here,’ Kevin said, pointing to his left, ‘has got about a hundred head on it.’

  Across the flat land the tussocks of grasses were dry and drown, but the leaves of the trees were a vivid green. Red shiny cattle grazed contently across the plain and Dave could see the windmill head turning lazily in the breeze.

  ‘You get enough wind up here to run these things?’ Dave asked suddenly. ‘What happens if you don’t get any for a week. Got any solar or fuel pumps?’

  ‘We’ve got back-ups if we don’t get the wind, but it’s rare we have a problem. Most afternoons get windy.’ Kevin turned the wheel and started heading over to the bore. ‘See here, cattle aren’t straying too far from the water. At the moment there’s enough feed around that they don’t have to go looking.’ He pointed to some heifer weaners that were lying down under a cluster of trees, chewing the cud. ‘These are my girls for next year’s breeding. I bought a couple of real good bulls from Queensland and bred these. Good quality stock is important in any set-up, but up here I reckon it’s essential.’

  Kevin edged the ute in closer and came to a standstill. Two of the heifers stood up and flicked their tails lazily, while staring at the ute. Their ears twitched back and forth, listening to the unusual noise of the engine, trying to work out if the vehicle was a threat.

  ‘They’re beautiful, aren’t they?’ he said in a reverent tone. ‘See how good their structure is—legs are solid, as they need to be for this type of country.’

  ‘They sure are.’ Dave looked at the well-bred cattle and then out across the country. Everything he saw here looked like it was well maintained. Impressive really. Especially after what they’d seen at Cassia Plains.

  Kevin put the ute back into gear and drove across to the windmill. ‘See here?’ He pointed to the shaft of the mill and Dave could see what Glenn had showed them photos of back at the station: stainless steel pins, locking the couplings together so they couldn’t become unscrewed, no matter how many times they pumped up and down.

  It was clear from the well-maintained equipment and the evidence photos that the cattle had not simply pushed through a fence looking for water. They had been stolen.

  Chapter 15

  Bob wasn’t anywhere to be seen when they arrived back at the homestead, but Dave was relieved to see the troopy still parked in the same spot. He wasn’t sure why he’d been worried that Bob would take off and leave him behind. As a copper, you needed to be able to trust your partner. But he hadn’t ever seen Bob in a mood like he’d been in that morning.

  Maybe it was because he’d thought the pull of the booze might be too strong for Bob. He’d wondered whether Bob was able to hold his drinking at a consistent level or whether he’d end up going off on a bender. He wished he’d thought to discreetly ask someone in the office about what it was like being on a job with Bob; that way he might have been more prepared.

  ‘Where’s he gone? Hope he’s not poking around in my shed,’ Kevin said.

  Dave put his hand on the bonnet of the troopy. Warmth filtered up through his fingers, caused more by the sun than the engine.

  ‘Bob!’ Dave called out and then walked onto the track to see if he could see him. Nothing.

  ‘Would he have gone down to the community?’ Dave asked. ‘How far is it from here? Maybe he wanted to talk to the Elders.’

  ‘He’d better not have. I don’t want him bothering everyone down there. Come on, we’ll go and look.’ Kevin waved towards the track and started wa
lking.

  Dave could hear kids laughing and women singing. It sounded more like chanting and he asked what it was.

  ‘They’ll be teaching the young ones,’ Kevin said. ‘Probably cooking roo or goanna or something and while they’re doing that, they’re always teaching the kids how to sing, or cook, or paint. The Elders know so much and we have to make sure that knowledge is passed on.’

  Dave nodded. Campfire smoke drifted towards them and there were a couple of dogs barking in the distance. The tall gums were standing silently on the bank of the creek and Dave could understand why these people had such a connection to the land. The country was beautiful and it was theirs.

  The dirt track curved to the left and as they came around the corner Dave could see Bob sitting with an old man underneath a tree, next to a fire. They each held a pannikin.

  ‘Ah shit,’ Dave said aloud, without meaning to.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nah, nothing. Sorry. Just thought of something.’ Dave hoped there wasn’t Scotch or beer in that pannikin.

  Then Kevin stopped. ‘What’s he bothering the old people for? He shouldn’t be talking to them,’ he said and started to jog across to where they were sitting.

  ‘He’ll be fact finding,’ Dave said, quickening his pace too. The change in the man was sudden. Gone was the bloke who was happy to chat and loved his job. The distrust was clear in his voice.

  ‘Hey! Hey you, copper,’ Kevin yelled out. ‘What are you doing here? Shouldn’t be talking to the old men. They deserve your respect, not your shit.’

  Dave groaned inwardly, hoping Bob wouldn’t retaliate. He knew from his drive with Kevin that his reaction was only because he’d gone against the Elders’ wishes, rather than anger towards a white man copper. The Elders had told him not to talk to them and Kevin had wrestled with the decision and gone against them. Now he’d be wanting to protect his people from his decision the best he could.

  Bob and the old man looked at them as they approached and the old man raised a hand to wave them over.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Kevin repeated.

  Bob stood up and held his hand out to the angry young man. ‘Son, like I said, we got off on the wrong foot.’

  ‘I’m not shaking your hand.’

  ‘Kevin!’ The old man barked. ‘You show respect to the sergeant.’

  ‘What?’ He rounded on Jackie.

  ‘You know better than to disrespect a man when they’ve offered their hand.’ Jackie got to his feet and glared at his son.

  Without looking back at Bob, Kevin spoke to his father. ‘You’re the one who hasn’t got any respect for the coppers! You’re the one who told me they were all about the white man.’

  ‘Kevvy, this man, he’s different. A good man. I’ve talked to him. Don’t leave him hanging.’ He nodded towards Bob’s hand, which was still outstretched. Dave could see it was grudgingly, but Kevin held out his own hand and they shook.

  ‘That’s the way, son,’ Bob said. ‘Don’t you worry, I’ll make sure everything is okay for you. Promise you that.’ He paused. ‘Sorry about before. I had a bit of shit on the liver and shouldn’t have taken it out on you.’

  The sound of laughing children came closer, dispersing the tension between the men and Dave turned to see a group of about eight young kids surrounding a white woman, all talking to her at the same time. They disappeared up the steps and into a demountable, which Dave assumed was the schoolroom.

  ‘What about you, young fella?’ Jackie turned to Dave and broke into his thoughts. ‘Are you a good man too?’

  Kevin looked over at Dave and spoke before he could. ‘This is my father, Jackie. And, yeah, Dave’s a good man.’

  Jackie smiled, showing a missing top tooth. ‘Then we have two good men. Two good men who’ll get to the truth.’

  ‘We’d better be off,’ Bob said, turning back to Jackie, who was standing by now, and nodding. ‘Thanks for the yarn.’

  ‘You keep being a good man, Sergeant.’

  Dave took the driver’s seat and waited until they were out of sight of the sheds and homestead before he asked, ‘What were you doing back there?’

  ‘Talking to the Elders. Jackie was the only one I could find. He didn’t want to talk at first, but then he realised that I was there to help. I’ve been up this way a few times before and dealt with similar issues. I’ve learned a bit along the way. He was okay. Respect is a big thing with Aboriginal people. Sitting next to him on the ground was an important thing to do.’

  Dave recalled Spencer’s advice had been just that.

  ‘Did you find out anything of interest?’ he asked.

  Bob was quiet for a while and then he said, ‘We talked a lot about the old days. I understand why he is very distrustful of the police.’

  Dave wanted to ask what the reasons were, but he waited, thinking Bob was going to say more. Kilometre after kilometre slipped away before Bob spoke again.

  ‘What you have to understand is that there are a lot of people out here who are distrustful of the police and they’re concerned their own private business is going to be shared with the whole community.

  ‘These Aboriginal stations have had a bad rap. The owners were accused of not looking after their cattle. Not being able to run the station. Jackie, the old man, he doesn’t want any of that happening again. But he also doesn’t want to cause trouble with his neighbours by making accusations; he doesn’t want any conflict. And he certainly doesn’t want people to think the cattle are missing because of their management. And when cattle go missing like this, there are three thought processes by those who don’t know. One, people can’t look after their stock and they’ve walked through broken fences out into Crown land; two, they’ve been stolen; and, three, they’ve died.’

  ‘They haven’t died,’ Dave stated flatly.

  ‘I agree. Everything I saw on that station was in good nick. Professional. What I’d expect from a good operation. They didn’t die from lack of water or feed or poison. They might be dead now, of course; might’ve been taken to abattoirs. There’s no doubt in my mind they’ve been stolen. What did you find out?’

  ‘Pretty much everything that you’ve said. Kev is passionate about his job. You should’ve heard him when he was talking about his cattle. He’s put a huge amount of time and effort into getting this place running well.

  ‘He told me that when he arrived back here there were pieces of tin missing from the shed, old cars lying around, and everything was pretty much in disrepair. It took time, but he finally got a few of the lads rounded up to help restore things to the way they should be. He just wants his people have a high regard for themselves and he thinks the way to make that happen is by giving them something to be involved in, something to take pride in. I’ve got a lot of respect for that man back there.’

  ‘Yeah, everyone has said that Kev’s a great bloke and doing good things.’ Bob paused. ‘But that also makes me suspicious.’

  ‘Why?’

  Bob paused. ‘I guess I understand the mentality about not reporting the cattle when they were first stolen. Especially after talking to Jackie. But there’s something not adding up. I can’t tell what it is yet. I almost think they know who did it but they won’t say.’

  ‘What, you reckon Kev knows who it is?’ Dave turned to Bob in surprise.

  ‘No …’ His voice trailed off. ‘No, I don’t think he knows, but I think the Elders do.’

  ‘You think it’s inhouse?’

  ‘Nope, not that either.’ Bob scratched his chin thoughtfully. ‘Wish I could put my finger on it.’

  ‘So what now?’

  ‘Well, no one has accused anyone else. There aren’t any leads. Really all we can do is document everything. Go home and write everything up. It’s a bastard really, because I know there’s more here than we’re seeing, but we can’t be away any longer. Let’s go and talk to this other bloke at Paperbark Valley, then head home, I reckon.

  ‘See, even if I got a warrant and we search
ed all the properties around here, and we found those cattle, the story is going to be that they walked there. Pushed through the fences. Whomever’s place we found them on is going to say they didn’t know they were there—big swags of land. Can’t be everywhere all of the time. Plausible deniability.

  ‘You know we have to prove it beyond reasonable doubt, and we can’t do that unless we catch someone in the act of taking them. No jury is going to convict because we found cattle on a bore on, say, Cassia Plains. They just walked there; cattle walk and cattle stray.’

  ‘Long way to come without any results,’ Dave said, but his heart leaped at the thought of seeing Bec.

  ‘Unfortunately, that’s the way it is when you’re dealing with this type of thing. Like I said to you when we first came up here, I haven’t heard anything; not a whisper on the grapevine that there is any type of trouble up here. To have two hundred head of cattle stolen without there being any warning is pretty unusual. I think we’ll be back up here before too long. This is a watch and wait and see case—can’t be hurried.

  ‘Anyway,’ he gave Dave a wink, ‘you’ll be needed in Queensland soon.’

  Chapter 16

  The house was in darkness when Dave arrived home. He frowned and glanced at his watch. Close to 6 p.m. His family should be here.

  He’d tried to call Mel earlier in the day to let her know he’d be home soon, but she hadn’t answered.

  Flicking on the light, he hoped there would be a note in the kitchen. Maybe they were at her parents’ house having tea.

  Fighting back disappointment, Dave thought about the trip back. He and Bob had shared the driving and made good time so he could be back for dinner. It was the first time Dave had seen Bob go without a drink for twenty-four hours. As soon as everything was unloaded, he’d headed for home, hoping to be able to read Bec a story and show her the pictures of the kangaroo.

  Only to arrive to an empty house.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ he muttered, going to the fridge and grabbing a beer. He wanted to rant and rave but instead he went out to the back verandah and sat under the stars. ‘I’m not going looking for you, Mel,’ he said to the sky. ‘Especially if you’re at your dad’s place.’

 

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