‘Uh-huh.’
‘Interesting. Dylan has an assault charge against him—pounded some poor bugger in Perth three years ago. Didn’t hurt him too much, but he went to court, pleaded guilty and got off with some community service hours.’
‘Where’d he do them?’
‘In Boogarin—helped the local council weed and tidy the streets, that sort of thing.’
‘That must’ve dented his pride. All the people he knew driving past and seeing him.’
‘Then Ethan Schultz, he’s got a spent conviction for failing to secure a firearm correctly. Nothing came of that.’ Dave tapped his fingers on his knees as he watched the sun start to sink on the horizon. The deep pinks and reds of the north were intense, and he wound down his window a little to breathe in the cool night air. ‘You sure we’re not heading there too late? Won’t it be dark by the time we get there?’
‘No, it won’t, I’ve got it calculated we’ll arrive just as everyone will be sitting around having a beer and yarning about the day. Sometimes, son, that’s the best time to turn up, because you’re not expected and everyone is a little less on guard.’
Half an hour later, they were driving across the cattle grid into Deep-Water Station.
‘Look how clean these posts are next to the grid,’ Dave said. ‘You’d reckon they should be covered in red like everything else is. Wonder why they’re so white. Someone must’ve washed them.’
‘Or they’re freshly painted,’ Bob said. ‘Got to say, this is a great road—not many station roads are so smooth, they’re usually full of potholes and corrugations. These have been graded recently—see how the gravel hasn’t actually set yet? It’s still all fluffy? Care and maintenance. Kit’s on the job.’
Dave looked at him slyly. ‘Or he’s just covered up the tracks of a small, rigid body truck.’
Bob looked over at him, a half-grin on his face. ‘Now who’s the suspicious one?’ he asked.
‘That’s what they pay me for,’ Dave answered, in Bob’s own words and turned to look out the window with a wide grin on his face. This was the sort of banter he had with Spencer. Maybe they’d make a good team yet.
They followed the wide, freshly graded road towards the homestead, past the cattle yards and through a creek, until they saw a tennis court and two old huts on the side of the road. Four dogs—an Alsatian, two staffies and one kelpie—came to greet them, the Alsatian growling as they pulled up next to the shed, in which there were two utes. Kit and another bloke, both dressed in blue shirts and denim jeans, were leaning over the back of one ute, having a beer.
‘And there you go,’ Bob said with satisfaction as he looked at the two men. ‘Don’t know that fella. Be good to meet him.’
Dave frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, Kit has someone working here, or just called in. That bloke might know something we don’t. The more people we talk to the better.’ Bob pushed open his door and got out, putting his hat on his head. ‘G’day there, Kit. How’re you going?’
‘It’s Bob, isn’t it?’ Kit said, holding out his hand. ‘And Dave. The stockies who turned up here the other day.’
‘You’ve got a good memory. Good to see you.’ Bob turned to look at the stranger, who hadn’t moved since they’d arrived. The tall, tan-skinned man leaned against the ute. ‘G’day,’ Bob said to him, walking around to shake his hand.
‘G’day.’ The man and Kit looked at each other and Dave caught an expression flicker across Kit’s face, too quickly to identify.
‘Bob Holden, and this is Dave Burrows.’ Bob introduced them. The dogs barked loudly and jumped around Dave as he tried to reach out and shake the man’s hand.
Kit seemed to gather himself. ‘This is Boyd Shepard,’ he introduced them.
‘Good to meet you, Boyd. You from around here?’ Dave leaned against the ute and pushed his hat back on his head.
‘I’m from—’
‘You boys want a beer?’ Kit interrupted.
‘Wouldn’t say no,’ Bob said. ‘Always keen to have a sip, hey, Boyd?’
‘Especially after a long day.’ Boyd drained his can and put it on the tray of the ute. ‘I’ll have another too, mate,’ he called.
Kit walked towards the shed, talking over his shoulder. ‘Yeah, we’ve had a busy day, shifting cattle into fresh paddocks.’
Dave glanced around and saw two motorbikes parked outside the shed and a grader sitting in the middle of the road. It looked like the driver had decided he’d had enough for the day, and just turned the grader off right then and there and got out.
‘So where are you from, Boyd?’ Bob asked.
‘Oh, round and about really. Just here catching up with Kit for a couple of days. I don’t see him much.’
‘Sounds like the life,’ Dave said.
‘What brings you blokes back up here so soon?’ Kit said, walking back with two cans in each hand.
Dave watched Kit as he returned. There it was again. Another tiny glance that was a signal of some sort.
‘Boys over at Spinifex Downs need a bit of a hand. Had a few more cattle stolen,’ Bob said.
Handing out the beers, Kit stopped and looked over at him? ‘Geez, really? I hadn’t heard anything about that. Bloody awful. How many?’
‘We’re still sorting through all of that.’ Bob cracked his can and drank deeply. ‘You hadn’t heard anything, huh?’
Kit shook his head. ‘No, mate, if I had’ve I would’ve been on the phone to Glenn straight away. I don’t like how this is headed. Like I said last time you were up, I worked hard to make sure this sort of thing had stopped happening. Specially when those boys like Dylan Jeffries and Ethan Schultz are as hot-headed as they are. I had to stop what could’ve been a fight at the rodeo a while back. They were about to have a go at the blokes from Spinifex Downs over this very matter. Worries me, I can tell you.’
‘No doubt. Must be tricky when there’ve been so many years when nothing like this has happened and then—bang!—up it all starts again. Is there anyone new in the district?’
Kit frowned as he thought. ‘No, mate, I don’t think so. There’s always the transient work force at mustering, but they’re kept so busy, they wouldn’t have time to get around the district causing havoc like this.’
‘You think it must be someone local?’ Bob asked.
‘Well, I’m not saying that either, Bob.’ Kit shook his head. ‘Don’t put words into my mouth!’ He gave a smile. ‘Cattle stealing is from another generation, is what I’m saying. It’s from back in my father’s day rather than now.’
‘What about you, Boyd?’ Dave asked, turning to look at him. Boyd’s mouth was set in a hard, grim line as he wiped condensation from the can. ‘You think the same?’
‘I reckon. And I know nothing about any cattle being taken. Kit here mentioned it a few weeks ago when you were up here last time, but I never hear much about anything.’
‘How’s the investigation going? You can’t have any idea about who’s done it if you’re asking these sorts of questions. What about knowing where the cattle could be?’ Kit asked.
‘Not yet,’ Bob said. ‘Early days. Always hard to investigate these types of activities without catching someone red-handed. But we’ll keep at it. Neither Dave nor I are ones to give up, are we, mate?’ He turned to Dave.
‘Not me,’ Dave said, taking a sip of his beer.
‘Yeah, the interesting thing about this one is that it seems there’s been a small truck used. Like the rigid farm trucks you use down south, not the big road trains you blokes have up here. Know anyone who has a similar truck?’
Dave watched as Boyd glanced around the yard before shaking his head.
‘A lighter truck?’ Kit said. ‘Well that’s an interesting thought. I haven’t seen one. Don’t even know why you’d bother with a tiny truck up here. I only ever use semis when I’m shifting cattle and that’s what we all use. Too expensive to do it any other way when you’ve got to cart the distances we do.’ He dr
ained his can. ‘Now listen, you blokes want to stay for tea? I’ve got to get back to the house to make a few calls, but you’re more than welcome. Tara’s used to whipping up extra food.’ He turned towards the house and yelled, ‘Tara!’
‘Oh, yeah, that’d—’ Dave started to say but Bob spoke over the top of him.
‘Thanks, but no thanks.’ Bob put the empty can of beer in the back of the ute and reached down to pat one of the staffies that had plopped at his feet. ‘Dave here has been away from his young family too long, so we’re trying to wrap everything up as quickly as we can. The only way to do that is to keep pushing on and I think we’d better get back to town tonight.’
‘Long drive,’ Boyd said.
‘Yep. That’s the life of a stockie. Thanks very much for the chat, boys. And the information.’ Bob turned to Dave. ‘You can drive, mate,’ he said, just as a woman appeared on the verandah.
Kit waved her away. ‘No need for you,’ he called. ‘They’re not staying.’
With a small nod of her head, Tara acknowledged him and went back inside.
Dave started the car, setting up a round of barking from the dogs who had been lying panting at everyone’s feet. He waved as he put the troopy in gear and turned towards Boogarin.
Bob took his pen out of his pocket and wrote something on his hand. ‘Did you see those looks between Boyd and Kit when we first got there?’ he asked.
‘I saw something. I wasn’t sure what it meant.’ Dave flicked the lights to high beam and concentrated on the road in front of him. He didn’t want to hit a beast.
‘I think it was a “don’t tell him any more than you have to” type look.’
‘What did you just write down?’
‘The regos for both utes there. Let’s find out who this Boyd Shepard is and what type of relationship he has with Kit Redman.’
Chapter 28
The smell of bacon and eggs reached Dave as he opened one eye then the other.
He looked around the little room he’d spent the night in and groaned. The mattress was so lumpy, he should’ve got his swag out and slept on the floor.
A thump sounded on the door and then he heard Bob’s voice. ‘I’ve told you before, you young fellas sleep too much. You getting up or what? Or you too busy giving yourself a hand shandy?’
‘Piss off, you old fuck,’ Dave muttered. ‘I reckon I’ve had about three hours’ sleep,’ he called back. He didn’t mention the nightmares that had woken him twice.
‘And I’ve had even less because I’ve cooked breakfast. Come on, we’ve got shit to do.’
‘Is there coffee?’
‘You and your fucking coffee.’ Bob gave the door another bang and Dave sat up.
They’d booked in at the caravan park because it had been too late to set up camp anywhere and it offered a twenty-four-hour reception. God knows why, Dave had thought. Can’t be too many people turning up here at midnight.
Dave got dressed and was tucking his shirt into his jeans as he pushed the door open and was greeted by the glare of the sun. ‘Shit, sunnies,’ he muttered. ‘God, I feel like I’ve got a hangover.’
‘You’re acting like you’ve got one too,’ Bob called out.
‘Just a late night and a horrible bed,’ Dave said as he walked towards the communal kitchen where Bob was serving up bacon, eggs and toast.
‘You’ll have to harden up, son. Here, get that into you.’
Dave took the loaded plate. ‘Cheers.’
‘Right, plan for today,’ Bob said, cutting a large piece of bacon and shoving it into his mouth, ‘is we’re going to borrow an office at the station and do some research.’ He pushed a piece of paper over to Dave. ‘That’s what you’re checking out for me.’
‘Right-oh.’ He read it and folded it up before putting the paper in his pocket.
‘Have you phoned home, son?’
Dave’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth as a feeling of dread seeped through him. ‘No.’
Bob looked at him hard. ‘Maybe you should do that first while we’re in town and there’s phone range.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Dave said and got up to make himself a coffee. ‘Instant coffee, horrible shit. I’d be better off drinking tea.’
Bob chuckled. ‘City ponce.’
They walked across the road to the station, Dave’s phone burning in his shirt pocket. He’d tried to ring Mel at Mark and Ellen’s house but there hadn’t been an answer. Maybe Mel was at a doctor’s appointment. He hoped that’s all it was, but it was unusual for at least Ellen not to be there.
‘G’day again, Glenn,’ Bob said as he pushed open the door.
‘Thought it might be you fellas,’ he said, getting up. ‘How’d you go with everyone yesterday?’
‘Yeah, not too bad. Had a chat with Kev. I can see the toll this is taking on him.’
‘Oh, yeah? Get to talk to Kit or anyone else?’
‘Did a bit of a drive around before we ran out of light. We did get to Deep-Water, but not for too long, just enough time to tell Kit we were back up here and to let us know if he heard anything. Got back here about midnight and checked in over at the caravan park.’
‘Yeah, I saw your vehicle over there when I came in this morning. So, how can I help you today?’
‘Well, Glenn,’ Bob leaned on the front counter and put his chin in his hands. ‘We really need to borrow an office with a phone and a computer. Got somewhere you can put us?’
Pointing to a closed door at the back of the room, Glenn said, ‘You can borrow Tictack’s office. He’s not needing it where he is.’ He opened the door to let them behind the counter, then walked them to an office door.
‘Where’s Tictack?’ Dave asked. ‘I thought you were a one-man band here.’
‘I am. Tictack was my dog. He used to sleep in there. He died a month ago.’ His hand on the knob, Glenn turned and looked at them. ‘Do you think you’ll be here for a while?’
‘Who knows, mate,’ Bob said cheerfully. ‘Guess we’ll be here for as long as it takes us.’
Dave nodded to Glenn and gave him a ghost of a smile as he walked past him into the office. The furniture was minimal but comfortable and the most important items were sitting on the desk: the computer and the phone. ‘Sorry about your dog.’
‘I’ll grab you another office chair,’ Glenn said.
‘Cheers,’ Dave answered and pressed the computer’s on button, before wiping his hands clean. A fine layer of dust lay across the equipment.
Bob met Glenn at the door and took the chair from him. ‘Thanks for everything, Glenn.’ He closed the door behind him and took his notebook from his pocket. ‘Right, you make the call to the office down south and run those regos for me. Hopefully we’ll get Boyd’s surname. Then you do your magic on the computer, because I’m sure you’ll be quicker than me,’ he told Dave. ‘I’ve gotta couple of phone calls to make.’
Snatching up the phone, Dave dialled the number and waited. ‘Lara, I need a rego run please,’ he stated his name and number and then the plate—2IHP-054.
He could hear her typing and there was silence once she’d put all the information in.
‘Boyd Paul Shepard of …’ she reeled off the address and date of birth and driver’s licence number, while Dave wrote it all down. He thanked her and hung up the phone.
The computer took a while to fire up, but when it did, he pulled up the police database. Typing in Boyd Paul Shepard he waited, hoping for a hit while the wheel spun around and around.
Bob was on the phone and Dave worked and listened at the same time.
‘Listen, matey, we’re out bush and I need a name run to see if he’s linked to any businesses. Got time to do that for me?’
Pause.
‘Yeah, sure, sure.’ Bob laughed. ‘Anytime, mate, a beer and parmi, all yours.’
Pause.
‘Right-oh.’ He reached out to Dave and waved his hand for the information Dave had just written down. ‘Yeah, one Boyd Paul Shepard. Just whateve
r businesses he’s involved in and if there’re any flags on him. Cheers, buddy. Appreciate it.’
Pause.
‘Yeah, yeah, on this number. I’m in Boogarin.’
Pause.
‘Yeah, mate, I know, way out in the sticks, but it’s good fun. Catch ya later.’
Dave put in the web address for the Department of Agriculture’s brand register and in the search engine typed % Shepard. The percentage was the wildcard and he knew from something Bob had said on his first day, the wider the search the easier it was to find the brand you were looking for.
Five pages of brands and information came up and Dave looked carefully through each one, trying to match the name and address he had from the rego number.
They worked silently between them, until the phone rang, startling them both.
Bob snatched it up. ‘Holden,’ he answered. ‘G’day, mate. What’d you find?’
Pause.
Bob reached out to grab the pen from Dave and wrote down a couple of notes. ‘Yeah, good. Ah-ha. Really?’
The surprise in Bob’s voice made Dave look over at him, and glance at his notes. There was something underlined. BPS Enterprises.
Dave nodded and went back to the computer screen, scrolling down and reading. The words were blurring in front of him and his head felt fuzzy from the lack of sleep last night. He needed another cup of coffee. Getting up, he paced the floor and did a couple of squats to get the blood flowing, and then went out to Glenn.
‘Mate, is there anywhere I can get a coffee?’
‘Instant in the kitchen, or if you want something else, head over to the pub. Mae will do you a good brew there.’ Glenn didn’t look up from the computer.
‘Thanks.’ Dave went outside and jogged across the road. He ordered three coffees and then took them back, putting a cup down on Glenn’s desk before handing one to Bob and sitting down at his desk.
Reading through the grid that had come up on the computer screen, he checked the name and address for a BP Shepard. Not Boyd. The address was wrong. Next one, next one, next one.
‘Bingo,’ Dave muttered as he reached for his coffee. ‘That’s you, isn’t it?’ He read the information and scrolled down again. Not one but two properties. ‘Check this out,’ he said to Bob. ‘Here’s the brand 90P0 and the earmark.’ He tapped the numbers which correlated to the earmark then went on: ‘Owner name: Mr BP Shepard, address, trading as BPS Enterprises. Property ID number, and property name: Shepard’s Run. But check this out. There’s another property right underneath here, same brand and all, except different address. One is out of Gascoyne Junction and the other is further south near Mullewa.’
Red Dirt Country Page 21
