Back to the Pilliga

by Tony Parsons

  ‘That you were,’ I said, ‘but we have to look forward, not back, don’t we? There wouldn’t be a forty odd per cent divorce rate if we all made the right choices,’ I said.

  It was great to catch up with Flora and we’d been having a good yarn about everything and I was on my second cup of tea when she told me about Nicole and Stuart. ‘Their marriage is as good as over, Lachie. Vickie’s threatening to leave home too. After spending all that time studying at ag college she was keen to make some changes at Kamilaroi. Well, she wanted to take up showing sheep and cattle again but Stuart told her she couldn’t. Now all she wants to do is get out. Nicole is furious with Stuart about it.

  ‘A lot of the trouble is because Stuart wanted Nicole to have another child in the hope she’d have a boy. Nicole doesn’t have any intention of getting pregnant though. Quite apart from anything she feels too old. The three girls have been drawn into their marriage problems because Stuart has been going off his brain about her refusal to try for another child. So there’s Kamilaroi with no son and heir on the horizon and Stuart flatly refusing to allow Vickie any kind of a role on Kamilaroi,’ she said and then broke off, looking like she was pondering on telling me other things.

  ‘Is something else going on?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, yes, it seems as if Stuart has been seeing another woman,’ said Flora.

  ‘Christ, what an idiot,’ I said, finding it hard to believe. ‘He couldn’t have a better wife than Nicole. In fact it beats me she’s stuck with him for so long,’ I said.

  Flora agreed with me – she and Nicole had become good friends over the years and she understood how difficult things had been for her. After chatting about Nicole and Stuart a bit more, I told her how well my security firm had been going and how I’d become caught up in the search for Caroline Clemenger.

  ‘I do wish you’d do something else, Lachie. You could have been killed when you were shot and now you’re chasing more of the same. Mum worries about you all the time,’ said Flora.

  ‘It’s what I know and what I was trained in, Flora. However, if it’s any consolation to you I’m thinking of chucking it in. If I locate Caroline Clemenger and earn the reward her mother’s offered, I’m thinking it’d be good to get myself some land,’ I said.

  ‘You don’t have to keep doing something so dangerous anymore. Dad left you a third of Kamilaroi and you could come back, build a house and live there. You’d have a nice living with over ten thousand sheep and more than three hundred breeding cows. Mum would love you to come back here. We all would. It would be far better than gambling on a small farm with your limited resources,’ said Flora.

  ‘I’d still be too close to Stuart if I came back here. I’d have to use the Kamilaroi shearing shed or put up a separate shed. There’d be problems,’ I said.

  ‘There’ll always be problems no matter what you do,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, but there’s some you can avoid and some you can’t. Stuart is a problem I can still avoid. I’ve thought about cutting off a third of Kamilaroi and selling it but it took a long time for the family to put together that area of country and make all the improvements and I wouldn’t like to be the one who presides over its dissolution. I’d feel lousy about that,’ I said.

  ‘Kind hearts don’t pay the bills, Lachie. You’re entitled to a third of Kamilaroi and you should utilise it,’ said Flora.

  ‘I’ve paid my own way ever since I left here and the only extra money I’ve had was my share of what Mum gave us all. I know Mum wants me to come back here but I don’t want to come back and be fighting with Stuart. You know what he’s like,’ I said.

  Flora agreed with that but still wasn’t convinced that potential problems couldn’t be avoided but before she could continue talking about it I changed the subject and we moved on to other things.

  After lunch we washed up and then went back to the lounge where I filled Flora in more on the reason for my visit. ‘You ever see her or anyone who resembles her?’ I asked, showing her Caroline Clemenger’s picture.

  She shook her head. ‘No, I haven’t seen a woman remotely resembling her and I’d certainly remember if I had. She’s really striking, isn’t she? Not beautiful but a face you’d remember. Sheila was fairly certain it was her.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s the reason I need to speak to her. Between you and me we have some reason to believe that Caroline Clemenger is being held somewhere in the Pilliga. The evidence is sketchy but it’s more than we’ve got for anywhere else,’ I said.

  ‘And you’re being paid a lot of money to find her?’ said Flora.

  ‘That’s right but I’m not anxious to have my presence here trumpeted around the district. I know how news spreads in these small country towns and I don’t want the local rag advertising the fact that I’m here. If the men holding Caroline Clemenger read about an ex-cop and security guy coming up here they might put two and two together and come up with five,’ I said.

  ‘After you see Mum and hear about all the problems out there you may not feel like working. And you’ll need to drill Brett and Katrina that although you’re actually here, you’re not here. I’ve got to go out now and pick up some more supplies for dinner. The kids will probably beat me home. Meanwhile, put the kettle on when you want a cuppa. There’s fruit cake in the big red tin on the first shelf in the kitchen,’ she said.

  The house was very quiet after Flora left, which suited me down to the ground because I wanted to scour through some of the past editions of the local newspaper. It was usually full of town and district news, local sporting results and livestock prices, with an occasional snippet of juicy gossip. Nothing had changed there. I’d read through several of the most recent editions and was just about to give up when a small article caught my eye. It was to the effect that two local men, James Brewster and Zane Reid, had made a ‘killing’ at Randwick races. It seemed they’d put what they’d won on an outsider and won a heap of money.

  Now that is interesting, I thought as I put down the paper. Why would two punters want to let everyone know they’d won a lot of money on the race track? Either they were flamboyant gamblers who liked to flaunt their success or men trying to mask sudden affluence under the guise of gambling. If either of those men was seen driving a flash new vehicle, the average person would attribute their sudden prosperity to their success on the racetrack. It seemed to me that advertising such success would be the kind of thing only a half-way smart crim would do.

  I rang my Sydney office and when Christine answered I gave her Brewster and Reids’ names and asked her to get Dasher working on them pronto. I told her I would phone her next day for the results.

  I’d just put the phone down when I heard the kids’ voices outside and next thing Brett and Katrina had let themselves in. They pulled up dead when they saw me.

  ‘Hi guys,’ I said, grinning at the mixed surprise and delight on their face.

  ‘Uncle Lachie!’ they shouted in unison and fell on me. They literally did. They were my favourite pair of kids, though Luke’s kids ran them a close second. I always gave them a great time when they came to Sydney.

  ‘What are you doing here, Uncle Lachie?’ Brett asked when he finally stopped rumbling me.

  ‘It’s a long story, Brett. Very hush hush. You aren’t to tell anybody that I’m here. Not a soul, you understand,’ I said in my most serious voice.

  Brett and Katrina both looked instantly serious. ‘Is it an undercover job?’ Brett asked. He was a great reader and had a vivid imagination.

  ‘It would be if I was still in the police force. As it is, it’s very serious detective work. Hey, Mum said something about a fruit cake. She’s gone down town to buy a few things but she should be back pretty soon,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Katrina said and ran off to the kitchen.

  ‘I must say you two have grown a heap since I saw you last,’ I said as we all hoed into a piece of fruitcake each.

  ‘So what’s the big news in your life, Katrina?’ I asked.


  ‘There’s no really big news, Uncle Lachie. I go out to Nanna’s and do a bit of riding when Vickie and Shelley are on holidays. I also do a fair bit of swimming and I’m in the school team,’ she said.

  ‘Does Sergeant Morris coach you?’ I asked.

  ‘Yep. And he’s really good. Tells lots of funny jokes too,’ she said.

  ‘What about you, Brett?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m in the first eleven at school and I’ve been getting some fair scores. I’m nowhere near as good as you were but the sports master says I’m good for my age. I play league in the winter. Dad says my marks are good enough for me to do medicine,’ said Brett.

  ‘That’s great news,’ I said. ‘Maybe next time I come up we can have a few sessions in the nets.’

  That’d be fantastic, Uncle Lachie,’ said Brett.

  I was well into my second slice of fruit cake when Flora returned.

  ‘You look very smug,’ she told me.

  ‘Some things I may be but I refute smug. It’s the feeling generated by my enjoyment of this scrumptious cake. I haven’t tasted fruit cake like it for years. The bikkies aren’t bad either,’ I said.

  ‘Hmm. Kids pleased to see you?’ she asked.

  ‘I think you could say that. Were you able to get the goodies?’

  ‘Of course. I got a few other things too. It isn’t every day you honour us with your presence, brother dear,’ she said.

  ‘Thanks, Flora.’

  We spent the next couple of hours catching up with more local gossip, peeling green beans and spuds. After Brett and Katrina had finished their homework they dragged me away from the kitchen and into their respective bedrooms where they showed me photos of their various sporting triumphs and passed on their own version of local activities. I learned from Brett that Stuart had bought another racehorse which had cost a lot of money. This had led to a very big row between Stuart and Nicole. It seemed that Vickie had asked for a camera and Stuart had knocked her back. Nicole had told him that he could afford a racehorse so he should be able to shell out for a camera for his daughter, given her interest in becoming a photographer down the track. Stuart had responded by telling her that there was no way photography was going to feature in Vickie’s future.

  From Katrina I learned that Sheila didn’t have a steady ‘boyfriend’. Actually, she didn’t have a boyfriend at all. And wasn’t this a shame as she was so lovely. One choice titbit Katrina told me was that Vickie kept a picture of me and some cuttings about me being shot in a scrapbook in a drawer of her dressing table. According to Katrina she regarded me as some kind of hero. I thought this might be because she and her father didn’t get on, and since I didn’t get on with her father either it made me an ally.

  ‘I’m not supposed to know but Uncle Stuart is supposed to have a secret lady friend,’ Katrina said in a hushed voice, after making sure there was no-one outside the room. ‘I heard Mum and Dad talking about it. The woman lives at Gunnedah and breeds horses. Uncle Stuart visits her. Isn’t that awful? No wonder Auntie Nicole is going to leave him.’

  I changed the subject, asking her how her horse riding was going. It was relaxing to be able to lie across the kids’ beds while they talked about the things they enjoyed doing and their friends as well as passing on their ‘secrets’. I’d love to have kids like these I thought as I lay there. A lot of water had flowed under the bridge since I left Kamilaroi and whatever else I had, I didn’t have kids.

  I was brought back to earth when I watched the early TV news and heard more details of the North Shore bank robbery, which provided a stark reminder of why I was in Coonabarabran. As the minutes ticked by I started to feel a shade apprehensive about meeting Sheila Cameron. It wasn’t just meeting Sheila that concerned me but also what she could tell me about her apparent sighting of Caroline Clemenger because her account of things was likely to provide a crucial piece of evidence.

  CHAPTER 11

  When the front doorbell rang soon after the news was over Flora went to answer the door and I stood up and walked out to the kitchen. I would wait there while Laurie gave Sheila a sherry . . . or two. I spoke in low tones with Brett and Katrina who had both been briefed by their mother on the Fiona-Sheila-Lachie triangle. Katrina thought that I had made a ‘tragic’ mistake. If the past couple of hours were anything to go by, ‘tragic’ was a word Katrina used quite a lot now.

  After fidgeting for a while, unable to be distracted by the kids any longer I decided it was time to front Sheila. As I walked into the lounge room, there she was sitting in one of the big lounge chairs beside the fireplace with a glass in her hand. No doubt about it, she was still lovely.

  I shall never forget the look on Sheila’s face when she saw me. Her face underwent so many changes it was difficult for me to gauge her true feelings. There was shock initially because I was probably the last person she expected to see that night. It took her a little while to recover her equilibrium and by the time she did Laurie and Flora had quietly left the room.

  Seeing Sheila again took me back to when she and I were both teenagers and just beginning to meet life front-on. It was strange that Sheila had never married, and if what Katrina had said was true she didn’t even have a ‘boyfriend’, because she was a truly lovely, smart woman.

  ‘This is a surprise. I had no idea you were back,’ Sheila said after a while.

  ‘Officially, I’m not. How are you, Sheila?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m well, Lachie. Was it your idea to invite me here tonight?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, it was. I need to talk to you about a case I’m working on,’ I said.

  ‘Are you looking for Caroline Clemenger?’ she asked.

  ‘As a matter of fact, I am,’ I said. ‘I’ve been told you think you saw her.’

  ‘I definitely did. I recognised her immediately. But Caroline didn’t acknowledge me and perhaps she didn’t recognise me. It’s been a while since we were both at school,’ she said.

  ‘Can you tell me how you came to see her? Take your time and give me as many details as you can possibly remember,’ I said.

  ‘That’s easy, Lachie. And there were a couple of things I didn’t tell the detective who first showed me Caroline’s picture because I wasn’t sure if I should. I didn’t want to make a big fuss in case it transpired that I’d made a mistake. You see I wasn’t even aware that Caroline was still missing. I don’t usually read the Sydney newspapers and since I got my new job at the clinic I rarely even have time to read the local paper. There might have been a fuss at the time she was abducted but I was overseas at that time and I didn’t hear a thing,’ she explained.

  ‘So how did you come to see her?’ I asked again.

  ‘A man who wasn’t a local came to the surgery one day just as we were closing. He’d cut his leg badly and it needed stitching. After Dr Watts stitched it, he gave the man a tetanus shot because the cut had been caused by an axe. He also gave him a prescription for antibiotics and told him to come back in ten days and he’d check to see if the wound had healed well enough to take the stitches out. I was locking up after him when I saw Caroline sitting in the back seat of a car. It was a cream Holden. The thing that surprised me was that I knew how wealthy Caroline’s family are, yet the man alongside her was rough-looking with tatts and she was wearing an ugly shabby old grey dress. Something about that and the way she looked away sharply, as if she knew I’d recognised her, stopped me from greeting her. But by the time I’d finished locking up the surgery the car was gone,’ she said.

  ‘Can you describe the man with the cut leg?’ I asked.

  ‘A couple of things about him didn’t gel. One is that he said he didn’t have his Medicare card and paid in cash and the other was that he told me his name was Brian Challis. When I asked him if he was related to any of the local Challises, he looked guilty. “Distantly, and just visiting briefly,” he said. He certainly didn’t look like any of the local lot. He was a solid fellow with a kind of olive skin and dark brown hair and they’re all jus
t the opposite,’ she said.

  ‘Why do you think he used the name Challis? Wouldn’t he have been wiser to use a name like Smith or Jones?’

  ‘I’ve wondered about that since. I guess it meant he didn’t have to risk making up an address I might know so he just gave me the town address of the Challis family which I would know,’ said Sheila.

  ‘Ah, that’s interesting. You’re probably right. Did he come back to get his stitches taken out?’ I asked.

  ‘No, we never saw him again,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t suppose you happened to take a note of the registration number of the car, even part of the number?’

  ‘No, I was totally focused on Caroline,’ said Sheila.

  ‘Are you sure it was Caroline?’ I asked.

  ‘Absolutely sure. As I said, that’s why the old grey dress and the bloke she was sitting with surprised me,’ she said.

  ‘If the woman you saw was Caroline Clemenger – and I’m sure you’re right – the fact that you didn’t say hello to her may well have saved her life, Sheila. You’ve been a big help,’ I said.

  ‘Have I really?’ she asked.

  ‘Much more than you probably realise,’ I assured her.

  ‘What’s this all about, Lachie?’ she asked.

  I told her about Mrs Kendall coming to see me and how I’d agreed to try to locate her abducted daughter, who might or might not be somewhere in this area,’ I said.

  ‘What’s your next move?’ she asked.

  ‘Kamilaroi in the morning to see Mum and then back to business,’ I told her.

  ‘Please be careful, Lachie. I nearly died when I heard you’d been shot and were in hospital. I want Caroline to be rescued but can’t you allow the police to do it?’ she said.

  ‘It’s a tricky job, Sheila. Circumstances will dictate just how she can be rescued. That’s if she’s still alive to be rescued. But if the police go charging in after these crims she could be killed. There’s also the fact she could testify against her abductors about the bank robbery, which means they may want to get her out of the way permanently,’ I said.