There were police, both State and Federal and both uniformed and plain clothes, plus several aviation officials and the paramedics. Mr Southall was there already, shaking hands and speaking to them. Flying Officer Turnbull directed the cadets to a nearby hangar to wait in the shade. Flying Officer Lowe led them across. Willy was reluctant to go with them. He badly wanted to learn more about what had happened to Jacob and why; and he also wanted his chart back.
However he judged that now was not the moment so he walked with the others across the tarmac to the hangar. The sun was now almost overhead and was blazing down with tropical intensity, causing a heat shimmer off the bitumen so he was glad to reach the relative cool and shade of the hangar. The hangar contained a Cessna 172 undergoing maintenance and the cadets were cautioned not to touch anything.
For the next few minutes they stood or sat and watched. Sweat trickled and Willy felt quite thirsty. But even though there was a toilet and washbasin in the back corner of the hangar he remained near the front. He was rewarded by seeing Jacob helped down from the ‘Catalina’ by two paramedics. Jacob was then placed in the back of an ambulance, along with a uniformed police officer. Several other police then stood at the open rear door and appeared to be asking questions.
One of the policemen then detached himself from the group and came walking over towards the cadets. ‘I wonder what he wants?’ Willy thought. He soon found out. The policeman went to the officers and spoke to them and Willy saw them turn to look at him and then point. The policeman then came over to him.
“Cadet Williams? The survivor, Mr van…er.. Mr van.”
“Van der Heyden,” Willy said.
“Yes. He would like to speak to you. Come with me please,” the policeman said.
Willy was pleased at that. He walked back with the policeman, Flying Officer Turnbull joining them unbidden. As they walked across the tarmac Willy saw two paramedics lift a stretcher out of the aircraft. On it was what he was sure was a body bag. The sight made him feel very sick and anxious. The stretcher was immediately placed in the rear of the dark van. The two paramedics climbed into the vehicle and it drove off as Willy reached the ambulance and the semi-circle of adult faces.
Jacob was lying on a stretcher in the rear of the ambulance. A drip was stuck in his arm and he was all wrapped up. On seeing Willy he struggled into a sitting position and held out his hand. “I just wanted to thank you for saving my life,” he said.
That both pleased and embarrassed Willy. He had to climb into the back of the ambulance to reach Jacob’s hand. He took it and they shook hands. “It was nothing,” Willy mumbled. “I just hope they catch the men who murdered your friend.”
“So do I,” Jacob said, his voice hoarse with passion and dehydration.
“And I hope you find whatever it is you are looking for,” Willy added, letting go of Jacob’s hand.
Jacob nodded. Willy went to move back and found his way blocked by more men who had just arrived. He turned and found himself staring into a TV camera. A man whom he recognized as one of the local TV news presenters thrust a microphone close to Jacob’s face and asked, “And just what is it that you are searching for sir?”
Willy was both offended and amazed. He frowned and wondered why the police had not stopped the media people from pushing in. He was more annoyed to have his movements blocked. “Excuse me,” he said irritably as he went to climb back out.
Not at all fazed the TV man turned to him, “And you are the cadet who spotted them down in the sea?”
“Yes, excuse me,” Willy answered. To his relief Flying Officer Turnbull pushed forward and said firmly, “Please save your questions until the cadets have had a chance to refresh themselves.”
Willy was allowed to climb down and the police now moved to keep the news people away from the rear of the ambulance. The back door was closed and the vehicle drove off. Willy turned towards the aircraft, hoping to retrieve his chart. Mr Southall was standing there so Willy went over to him and asked if he could get it. Mr Southall nodded, “Sure thing son. Sorry about your trip to T.I.”
“Thanks Sir,” Willy replied. “It was a real adventure anyway. You are a great pilot.” He hurried away, embarrassed at having said that in public. He climbed up into the ‘Catalina’, again regretting that the flight had been cut short. His chart was still in the wardroom so he picked it up and said thanks to the Flight engineer, who was adjusting some hydraulic lines. Then he climbed back out.
Only to be confronted by the TV men again. One pointed the camera and the other said, “What is it that the man you saw in the ocean was searching for?”
“He didn’t say,” Willy answered, shortly.
“Is that a treasure map?” the TV man asked.
Willy was hot and irritated now and he shook his head and snapped back, “No. It is just an air navigation chart.”
“Don’t get shirty kid,” the TV man replied. “We are just trying to do our job. Can you show us where you picked the man up?”
Reluctantly Willy unfolded the map and showed them. The man made a couple of notes in a notebook. Then he again asked, “And you don’t know what he and his friend were looking for?”
“No. That is his business. Ask him,” Willy replied. He then walked back towards the other cadets. But as he did he could not help thinking the same thing: What is that Jacob was looking for that is so valuable that men will commit murder to get?
CHAPTER 5
A NEW INTEREST
That was also the question Willy’s parents asked when they arrived an hour later in response to a phone call. Both Willy’s father and mother were doctors so understood clearly what he had seen. They sat in with him while the police interviewed him. Thus they were also curious about Jacob’s quest.
On coming out of the interview room at the Air Cadet depot Willy looked around for Marjorie. Since he and Marjorie had nearly ‘done it’ the previous month he had developed a lustful passion for her and right at that moment he felt the need for her physical presence, for her very animal aliveness, to offset the dark thoughts he was having. The memories of the torn and mangled corpse floating in the sea were mixed with darker images of Uncle Ted’s mutilated body and Willy was terrified he would have nightmares because of it.
‘Maybe if Marjorie and I have a bit of a cuddle I will forget and not be so upset,’ he thought.
But she was nowhere to be seen so he could not organize this. Finlay told him she and Stick had gone home with their mother. That upset Willy but he hid his feelings and rejoined his parents, who were speaking to Flying Officer Turnbull.
Willy’s home was a very well maintained, high-set ‘Old Queenslander’, made of timber and set up on concrete posts. The house stood in its own yard with a mixture of lawn and lush gardens. Upstairs was the kitchen, dining room and lounge, bathroom and toilet, and four bedrooms. Downstairs was enclosed and had a concrete floor. The downstairs area included a double car port, laundry, storeroom and a workshop area. To Willy it really was a home in the emotional sense and he was very glad to get there and to relax in the familiar surroundings.
That evening Willy saw himself briefly on the TV news. The images made him angry with the media but also roused his curiosity once more. ‘What was Jacob looking for?’ he wondered.
During the evening Willy had to tell the story to his big brother Lloyd. He also got a phone call from his friend ‘Noddy’ Parker. Noddy was another air cadet and in his class at school. He had not been lucky enough to be picked for the flight but had seen the TV news. “Was it horrible?” Noddy asked in his usual tactless style.
“Yes it was. I don’t want to talk about it thanks,” Willy snapped back. His mind filled with horrible and morbid images and he became worried that he would have bad dreams.
His fears were correct. That night he had a horrible nightmare full of grinning skulls and bleeding entrails floating in the water while a huge shark circled him. Then it dived and he could no longer see it. That raised the jeopardy to an unbeara
ble level and he cried out, waking himself and his parents.
His mother came to sit with him and to wipe his face. Willy was ashamed of himself and found that his pyjamas were soaked in perspiration. “It was horrible Mum,” was all he could say.
She sat with him till his father brought him a cold drink. Then they left him but with the hallway light on. Willy gulped the drink down and then lay back, fearful of going back to sleep again. But he did drift off and managed the remainder of the night without another nightmare.
The next morning, being Monday, meant school. Willy briefly toyed with telling his mother he was sick but then changed his mind. His father helped by calling him to the kitchen and showing him the newspaper.
“You are in the paper son,” Dr Williams said cheerfully. “It was very well done to spot that man.”
Willy was both embarrassed and pleased. He saw that the rescue was the headline and that the colour cover photos included ones of the ‘Catalina’, of Jacob, and of himself. The article was so long it went over onto the next page and included a picture of Mr Southall and a map showing the location of the rescue.
‘I’d better go to school,’ Willy decided. ‘All my friends will want to know about it.’
Feeling tired and drained Willy made his way to school. On arrival the first people he met were his friends and rivals from the army cadets and navy cadets. Most were a year ahead but the group had formed as a natural reaction to the negativity of most of the students to any sort of military association. The leader of the army cadet group was Graham Kirk, a fit and handsome Year 10 and an acting sergeant. With him were his mates of the ‘Hiking Team’: Peter Bronksy and Stephen Bell, also Year 10s and corporals, and Roger Dunning, a lance corporal who was in Willy’s class.
Stephen waved and called Willy over. “Hey Willy, tell us all about it,” he said.
So Willy joined them and proceeded to tell his tale. While he talked three students who were also navy cadets joined them: Andrew Collins, Arthur Blake and Luke Karaku. All were in Year 10 and Luke was a Torres Strait Islander.
By the time Willy had finished more students had joined the group. Among them was one who set Willy’s heart a-flutter with frustrated desire- red-haired Barbara Brassington. Willy had suffered a futile crush on her earlier in the year but she had rebuffed all his advances. Despite that he still had secret hopes and yearnings. Barbara was everything he dreamed off: intelligent, strong-willed, beautiful, long-legged, slim-waisted, and with very prominent boobs.
‘Not like Marjorie’s,’ he mused, noting Marjorie walking towards him. Marjorie’s breasts were big but hung down and wobbled a lot. Even so the sight of them was enough to make Willy’s mouth go dry with desire and for his hands to become sweaty.
On reaching the group Marjorie pushed through and slid in to sit beside Willy, squashing her left boob hard against him as she did. Willy was filled with a mixture of conflicting emotions; wishing she would not be so possessive; regret that Barbara would think he was taken; and sheer animal lust.
As Willy finished his tale Peter asked the question that was now nagging at Willy. “So what was this van der Heyden bloke looking for Willy? Is it a treasure?”
Willy shook his head. “Don’t know,” he replied. To divert the conversation Willy pointed to a magazine that Stephen had been reading when he arrived. “What’s that Steve?”
“A magazine about vintage aircraft,” Stephen answered. “It’s got some really interesting articles about old restored planes and replicas, and there is a really good one about plane wrecks in North Queensland from World War Two.”
“Oh yeah? Can I read it?” Willy asked, mildly interested. He noted that the title of the magazine was Classic Wings. Then he saw Graham looking around in a distracted way. “What’s the matter Graham, are you still wondering how we caught all you army cadets on that field exercise a few weeks ago?” he teased.
Graham scowled. It was obviously a sore point with the army cadets. They had been challenged by the air cadets to try to sneak up on a number of targets guarded by the air cadets and most had been detected and captured. Willy had played a prominent part in the Air Cadet’s victory by setting up various electronic detection devices and by using one of his radio controlled model aircraft as a reconnaissance UAV. Suddenly Graham stood up and pushed his way past Andrew and walked off.
Willy stared after him. “Sorry Graham, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he called.
Graham appeared not to hear him and kept on walking. Willy looked around the group to check if any of the other army cadets was upset. None appeared to be. “What’s biting Graham?” he asked.
Stephen answered, “Just the latest true love in his life.”
“Oh yeah? Who is she?” Willy asked.
“Carol Battersby. She’s in Pete’s class,” Stephen answered.
“The skinny one with freckles and a haircut like a coconut?” Stick queried.
“That’s her,” Stephen replied. “He must need his eyes tested.”
Barbara shook her head and said, “She is a very nice person; nicer than some people I know.”
Stephen laughed but he blushed too. “They say beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes right to the bone.”
“Don’t be horrible Stephen!” Marjorie cried. “She is a very kind girl.”
The bell for morning classes rang at that moment so Willy stood up and shook himself free of Marjorie. She pouted and hinted she wanted to see lots of him at lunch time. That caused a ripple of laughter and good natured teasing from those who heard. To Willy’s embarrassment Barbara looked from him to Marjorie and back again in a way that made his hopes fade.
To counter balance that Willy made a point of walking to class with Barbara and Roger. As they did Willy glanced towards Marjorie and saw that she had an anxious look on her face. ‘She’s worried I still like Barbara,’ he decided. That gave him a twinge of guilt because he and Marjorie were now so intimate.
Class was nothing special. Willy found school work both easy and fairly boring. The only teacher to ask about the rescue was Mr Conkey, his Geography and History teacher. Mr Conkey was also the captain commanding the school’s army cadet unit and that gave him extra status in Willy’s eyes. The fact that Barbara had joined the army cadets a few months earlier was a small regret for Willy. ‘She should have joined the air cadets,’ he thought. But he was glad she had joined something as it seemed to have steadied her down and helped her get her life back on the rails. Earlier in the year she had been developing a real reputation for bad behaviour and for going out with boys.
At morning break Willy sat with Noddy, Stick and Marjorie. It was an entirely routine ‘little lunch’ and that had a very depressing effect on Willy. ‘A man has died, and his murderers are still on the loose and nobody here cares,’ he mused. It was a very sobering lesson in the ‘life goes on’ aspect of life and of how focused on themselves most people were.
The middle session classes were just as routine and boring: Chemistry and Maths B. Willy just sat and did the work mechanically, then daydreamed. He tried to make the daydreams positive: always him as the hero and nearly always involving aircraft and flying and the rescue of a beautiful maiden- usually Barbara. Being able to see her from diagonally behind did not help. From that position he could admired the curve of her hip and thigh and the soft swelling of her right breast straining at the material of her shirt.
‘She is lovely!’ he sighed. ‘I wonder?’
At lunch time Willy met up with Marjorie in the library. They sat in a corner away from the prying eyes of teachers and others and held hands (Strictly against the school rules!). That got Willy all aroused and hopeful but Marjorie ruined his hopes by reminding him that she had a part-time job babysitting after school.
When the pair emerged from behind the bookshelves after a solid ‘pash’ they found Stephen sitting on his own reading. He looked up and said, “Hi Willy. Hi Marjorie. Come up for air have you?”
Marjorie giggled. Willy
could only go red and snort, uncomfortably aware that he was very aroused. Hoping it wasn’t noticeable he said, “What are you reading Steve?”
“My aircraft magazine,” Stephen replied. “You will find it very interesting Willy. It has a photo of a restored ‘Catalina’ in it.”
Willy was interested. At his request Stephen flicked over the pages and showed him the photo. He saw that it was a different ‘Catalina’, and earlier version which had no blisters on the rear of the fuselage. This one was painted red and yellow and had been used for aerial fire fighting in Spain and was now being restored.
As he read the short article Willy’s eyes also noted the next article. This showed a wrecked single-engine aircraft half covered in sand. Out of curiosity he quickly scanned the short article. It was an account of how a squadron of American ‘Airacobra’ fighters had come to grief on a ferry flight during World War 2.
“I’ve heard about this,” he said. His eyes then took in some of the details: eleven ‘Airacobras’ left Townsville on 26th April 1942 to fly to New Guinea. They refuelled at Cairns and Cooktown but then got lost and put down all along the east coast of Cape York Peninsula. The article stirred dim memories of stories he had heard.
Pointing to the photo he said, “This wreck is still there then?”
Stephen nodded. “Apparently. I think there are half a dozen others too.”
“You’d think someone would have recovered them,” Willy commented, bending down to study the photo in more detail.
“Not worth the effort maybe?” Stephen suggested. Then he added, “I did read somewhere that they recovered the machine guns and radios and so on at the time.”
“Pity, I could do with a machine gun or two,” Willy joked.
Coasts of Cape York Page 6
