Back to the Pilliga

by Tony Parsons

  ‘You are an impressive man, Mr Sinclair. Will you help me? I assure you I will make it well worth your while,’ she said.

  ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ I asked, wanting more time to make a decision.

  ‘I’d prefer a glass of water,’ she said.

  I called for Christine to bring some water for Mrs Kendall and a cup of coffee for me. Mrs Kendall drank half a glass of the water and then looked at me expectantly.

  ‘How would you describe your daughter, Mrs Kendall?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t understand your question, Mr Sinclair,’ she said with a frown.

  ‘What kind of person is she? Would you say she’s smart enough to try and pull the wool over the eyes of the men who’ve kidnapped her? Has she got enough nerve to do that or would she go to pieces very quickly?’ I asked.

  ‘Caroline is no spoilt brat. She’s a very strong-minded person. She’s trekked in Nepal and photographed big game in Africa and she trades on the stock exchange. She can sail a boat, has fished for marlin, skis well and rides a horse beautifully,’ she said.

  ‘And would you describe your daughter as being a resourceful person?’

  ‘Resourceful?’ she said and thought about it for a while.

  ‘I think I could truthfully describe Caroline as resourceful. She has been in a few tight situations and weathered them well. She’s quite adventurous. What are you trying to establish, Mr Sinclair?’ she asked.

  ‘What I’m trying to establish is whether your daughter might perhaps be playing a game with her abductors. This is to support my theory, and I stress that it’s only a theory, that the reason neither you nor anyone else has had any word about Caroline is because the men who are holding her don’t know who she is. And maybe that’s because Caroline hasn’t told them,’ I said.

  I could see that she was about to say something but I hadn’t finished so I put up my hand to stop her.

  ‘Let me bounce this scenario off you, Mrs Kendall. They got Caroline into the getaway vehicle and they probably intended to dump her when they got clear of the city. But one of those three robbers was cluey enough to realise that the jewellery Caroline was wearing was worth big bikkies which probably meant that she had serious money behind her. They’d have been discussing what to do with her and maybe Caroline was half-conscious and heard them. If she’s the kind of woman you tell me she is, she’d have realised that her best chance of surviving would be to kid them that she’d lost her memory. She’d have to be quite resourceful to pull it off but I dare say it could be done. And maybe the reason the crims took her to Coonabarabran that day was to check out how she’d behave. If she’d tried to escape they probably would have done for her. But that’s pure conjecture and there might have been some other reason,’ I said.

  Mrs Kendall leaned back in her chair and actually smiled at me. ‘I feel a great deal better already, Mr Sinclair. Now, will you help me?’

  I looked across at the big pastoral map above my desk. It was a very large blow-up of the Pilliga Scrub from east to west and from north to south. ‘If your daughter is being held by Coonabarabran-based crims then it’s a safe bet that she and they are tucked away somewhere in the Pilliga Scrub. There are a million acres in the Pilliga and it could take me a long time to track her down. And then again I might never find her. I couldn’t give you any guarantee of success. I’d need a four-wheel drive vehicle and would have to camp out for days at a time,’ I said bluntly.

  ‘I would be most grateful for a quick resolution. You do know the area well, don’t you? You were reared there and your people have a large property close to the Pilliga Scrub?’ This was as much a statement as a question. It was already clear she’d done some research on me.

  I nodded my agreement. ‘It’s because I know the Pilliga Scrub and the general Coonabarabran area reasonably well that I’m aware how big a job this could turn out to be.’ I said, doing some rapid calculations about on-going cases, including which ones could be handled by someone else plus what fee I could reasonably charge on a weekly basis.

  My first thought of who might take over while I was away was Dasher Doyle, a retired ex-detective sergeant out of police records whom I’d used quite often to dig out information on a variety of matters. Inside three months from retiring Dasher had been bored to tears because of the amount of time he suddenly had on his hands. I’d bumped into him one day at the Sydney Cricket Ground and we’d had a yarn about a lot of things. The upshot of this chance meeting was that I’d offered Dasher some part-time work. He grabbed at the offer like a blackfish biting at green weed. Since then he’d worked on several cases with me and been a real asset. In typically Australian fashion he’d been given the nickname Dasher because he was anything but. However, he would stick at a problem and not let up until he solved it.

  ‘So you’ll take the case?’ she pressed.

  ‘I’ll take the case subject to certain conditions. And let me say at the outset that we have to use our heads, Mrs Kendall. Above all else we need to be secretive. One hint that there’s someone on their scent and those crims could decide to get rid of Caroline. She’s a witness to what they’ve done, which is probably why the police are treading so lightly,’ I said.

  ‘My feeling is that sooner or later these men will give themselves away. I’m convinced that you’re the man to find them when they do,’ Mrs Kendall said firmly.

  ‘Occasionally, very occasionally, you strike a smart crim who doesn’t follow the usual pattern of criminal behaviour. He doesn’t gravitate to the Gold Coast or the Cross. He or she will lie low until the hue and cry about the crime dies down. But smart or otherwise there’s usually a weak spot. Find this and it’ll eventually lead you to them. There aren’t many really successful crims,’ I said.

  Mrs Kendall nodded.

  ‘There’s also the fact that men don’t rob banks so they can hide away forever. Not many men can take being holed up for long . . .’

  I looked at my map again and tried to imagine what it would be like to camp out in the Pilliga once more . . . no traffic, no hassles and some more time to devote to photographing the area.

  She noted my hesitation and tried another tack. ‘Is there something holding you back from going? Someone?’

  I shook my head. ‘I’ve said that I’ll take the case but it’s only fair that I tell you that it could cost you a lot of money and it could be money down the drain. I don’t like taking money from clients unless I believe there’s a reasonable chance I can deliver the goods. I can’t give you an unequivocal guarantee about that and it would be unethical for me to try. The police haven’t been able to either identify or locate these crims and their resources are far greater than mine. There’s also the fact that I would have to work closely with the police and they’d have to be willing to cooperate. Speaking generally, the police don’t welcome outsiders. They welcome information from the public but not active participation by members of the public. I’d have to go armed and be ready for anything. If I went up against those men on my own there’d be a good chance that they’d shoot me and your daughter. I’ll need back-up and that means the police. They can’t stop me from making enquiries about the whereabouts of your daughter but they’d be justifiably concerned if this affects in any way their attempts to apprehend the bank robbers who abducted her,’ I explained.

  ‘I have reason to believe that the police will be willing to cooperate. If you have any trouble in that regard, let me know. I can muster quite a lot of influence, Mr Sinclair. Now, just tell me what you require,’ she said.

  ‘Like I told you, I’ll need a four-wheel drive vehicle and more camping gear than I currently have,’ I said.

  She waved her hand in front of her face as if to signify that the cost of buying a vehicle was unimportant. ‘Keep going, Mr Sinclair. What else do you require?’ she asked.

  I did some rapid financial calculations to cover what I’d have to pay Dasher Doyle and Christine plus the lease of the suite and some provision for motels because I w
ouldn’t be camping out every night.

  ‘Four thousand dollars a week and if it takes longer than a month, three thousand dollars a week,’ I said.

  She took a cheque book from her handbag and wrote out a cheque which she handed to me. The cheque was for $16,000. ‘There’s your first four weeks’ payment beginning from today,’ she said.

  I put the cheque in my pocket and smiled across at her. ‘It seems that I’m headed for the Pilliga,’ I said.

  ‘I didn’t add the money for the vehicle because I’ll have someone attend to that. We have accounts with a couple of the major vehicle distributors and I’ll get a better deal than you. You can have the vehicle as soon as you like.’

  ‘Okay, but don’t buy the vehicle in my name, Mrs Kendall. Buy it in one of your company names. We don’t want my name connected to the vehicle,’ I said.

  ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘And if you find my daughter the vehicle will be yours to keep. I’ll have a legal document drawn up by my solicitors and delivered to this office as soon as is physically possible. If you locate my daughter alive I’ll pay you two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. If she’s been murdered and you can identify the men who killed her, I’ll pay you the same amount. Is that satisfactory?’ she asked.

  The money she was offering was exceedingly generous. It and the vehicle amounted to about three hundred thousand dollars but I’d be going up against bank robbers so there was always the chance that I wouldn’t live to earn it.

  ‘The money you’re offering is very generous, Mrs Kendall. The worst case scenario is that I get killed but that was also a possibility when I was a detective. The second worst case scenario is that these creeps have killed your daughter and that although I might identify them, there wouldn’t be sufficient evidence to charge them. Or they could be charged and subsequently acquitted,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll take that risk. So we have a deal?’ she said.

  Any way I looked at it her offer was too good to turn down. ‘We have a deal,’ I agreed and shook hands with her. ‘Just one more thing. How long do I go on looking for Caroline?’

  ‘Until you’ve exhausted every avenue, Mr Sinclair,’ she said, smiling warmly. Under her classy exterior and business-like manner she seemed like an all right woman. ‘You’ve taken a big load off my mind and I might even get some sleep tonight knowing that the search for Caroline is in as good hands as it can possibly be. It’s been terrible to feel so useless.’

  ‘Do you have a good photograph of Caroline?’ I asked.

  She nodded before delving into her handbag and taking out a large mauve envelope, which she handed to me. I slipped out three photographs and spread them out on my desk. The face I was looking at was not one I was likely to forget in a hurry. Though Caroline Clemenger wasn’t as beautiful as Sheila Cameron nor was her face as classically etched as Fiona’s it was full of character. Caroline was a handsome young woman with a wealth of dark, glossy hair. The expression on her face suggested a woman who was ready to take on the world and conceivably do almost anything, including outwitting a trio of bank robbers. The thought of such a woman in the hands of crims made me see red and I hoped she was everything her mother claimed her to be and capable of coping with her abductors.

  ‘May I keep these? I can have copies made if you want them back,’ I said.

  She waved an elegant hand and I got another squiz of the rings she was wearing. Lord knows what they were worth. If Caroline had been wearing rings of similar quality, plus other jewellery, this cornucopia of riches provided ample reason for holding her.

  ‘They are copies, Mr Sinclair. I came prepared. The Commissioner and Superintendent Ballinger warned me that you’d require photographs. I’ve had several long conversations with both men and I’m assured that the police will help you in every way possible,’ she said. ‘And as I’ve already hinted, I have good contacts at high levels and will do everything to ensure continued cooperation with you from the police.’

  Now I had quite often had help from the police and I had just as often helped them with information but I had never before been given such a positive message of police cooperation. It wasn’t that Mrs Kendall wouldn’t be quite equal to holding her own with the Commissioner and Ballinger or anyone else in the country. There was only one element that would bring so much weight to bear on the police that they would be willing to offer such cooperation: that was influence. How high it went I didn’t know but I suspected that it would be coming from the police minister.

  ‘I think I have everything I need,’ I said. ‘Do you have any more questions?’ I asked.

  ‘Only one. When can you leave?’ she asked.

  I looked up at the calendar and did some quick figuring. ‘I have a few things here I really have to either organise or finalise. You must appreciate that I can’t go racing off to the Pilliga without any preparation. I’ll need to look at what I might describe as the active list of villains, see who’s locked up and who isn’t. That might not tell us a lot because the police reckon the men who took your daughter are new boys on the job. But I’ll have a look anyway. Then there’s the matter of the vehicle and the camping gear. I’ll leave as soon as you can get those to me.’

  ‘If you tell me the make of vehicle you’d prefer and give me a list of your other requirements, I’ll get onto them straight away. I’m very anxious for you to make a start,’ she said.

  I scribbled out a list of my requirements and handed the page to her. She glanced at the list and then stowed it away in her handbag. ‘If you think of anything else you need please tell Christine to let me know. Will you send me progress reports?’ she asked.

  ‘Definitely not,’ I said firmly. ‘You’ll only hear from me when I’ve got something concrete to report. You can get in touch with me via Christine,’ I said. ‘One final word of caution. Don’t discuss the fact that I’m working for you with anyone. Not a word. What we have discussed in this office must remain confidential to the two of us. The media must not get a whiff of anything because if it gets out it could mean your daughter’s life.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘And thank you.’

  She held out her hand and I shook it. ‘I’ll do all I can to locate your daughter, Mrs Kendall.’

  ‘I have a great deal of confidence in you, Mr Sinclair,’ she said, tears in her eyes.

  After seeing her out I went back to my office and called Christine in. I told her that I’d be going bush within the week and I would greatly appreciate it if she could look after everything in my absence. ‘This case might take months or I could get lucky and nail it down fairly quickly,’ I told her. ‘And I’m thinking I’ll get Dasher Doyle in to run things until I get back. You don’t have any problems working with Dasher, do you?’ I asked.

  ‘Not really. He’s not a bad old sod when you get used to him,’ she said giving me a cheeky grin.

  ‘When will you leave?’ Christine asked.

  ‘More or less when Mrs Kendall can get the vehicle and camping gear to me,’ I said. ‘Naturally, she’s very anxious for me to make a start. I’ll need to get Dasher to do some preliminary checking of potential suspects for me. Superintendent Ballinger might help me with those,’ I said.

  ‘What do I tell people when they ask where you are?’ she said.

  ‘You can tell them I’m away working on a very important case in New Zealand and am temporarily incommunicado. But not a word to anyone about who I’m working for or where I actually am. You’ll know, Dasher will know and Luke will know. Also, it turns out that Mrs Kendall has very good connections with the Commissioner and Ballinger, so they’ll know too,’ I said.

  ‘Okay big chief, I better get on with organising things,’ she said and left the office as I sat down to ring Dasher Doyle.

  CHAPTER 7

  I resolved to get Dasher Doyle working full bore on preliminary aspects of the Kendall case but before I could get him properly started I had to meet with Luke. Since leaving the force we’d bought a small half cabin l
aunch together and we spent many enjoyable hours out fishing on the water. Luke and I could sit in a boat with our eyes on floats and not say a word for half an hour and be perfectly content. We had a competition going for the heaviest fish of its variety. I was ahead of Luke in flathead, bream and blackfish (luderick) but Luke was on top with mulloway, snapper and trevally.

  Working with Luke had been one of the best experiences of my life. Tall and slim with blue eyes that could be full of laughter, Luke had a very dry sense of humour and often used it in tight situations. When we were working on a case we’d analyse it from go to whoa so each of us knew it backward. Luke was a very cool fellow and often applied the brakes if I appeared to be going into overdrive. It was through being teamed with him that I’d become a better detective because he’d showed me how to think. He had earned a lot of respect and I was always confident that he’d go on to big things.

  Unlike me, Luke was a career police officer.

  I debated meeting Luke at our usual watering hole but what I wanted to discuss with him was too sensitive to air in a public place, so I asked him to come to my office.

  ‘What’s the current drill on the unsolved bank job?’ I asked after he’d arrived and Christine had brought us coffee and cake.

  ‘What’s it to you?’ he asked, still a bit peeved about missing out on his beer and having to settle for coffee. My use of the word ‘unsolved’ may also have touched a raw nerve since the police appeared to have made no headway on this case. He was a real pro and like all good police officers, unsolved cases were like a red rag to a bull.