Inspector Goldstein nodded. “Good. Now write down my number and also the number at Police HQ where we are co-ordinating this investigation.” he said. He waited until they all had their notebooks and pencils out and then gave them the numbers. “Telephone at the slightest hint of trouble and be certain where you are. And when you camp tonight let us know where you are.”
Capt Conkey dug in his briefcase and handed out their mobile phones and chargers. As these were plugged into a power board Dean put his hand up. “Can I go home please sir,” he asked.
“Yes. Who else would like to go home?” Capt Conkey asked.
The others looked at each other but all shook their heads. “We want to go on with the hike sir,” Peter said.
Capt Conkey nodded. “Fine. I will organize for Dean and Charmaine to be taken home today,” he said.
Gwen spoke up: “Inspector, how is the injured Devil Worshiper?”
“He will live.”
“Has he said anything?” Stephen asked.
“No.”
Stephen looked thoughtful and nodded. “He won’t either,” he added. “He will be too scared.”
At that Peter was again gripped by a chill of fear. He asked the Inspector: “Sir, is it safe for us to go on? I mean, that man up on the mountain threatened a terrible fate for interrupting their sacrifice.”
“I should think they will be too busy trying to run for cover to be worried about you,” Inspector Goldstein replied.
“But they know who we are,” Stephen put in.
“Do they? Did you recognize any of them other than Rudd?” Inspector Goldstein asked.
Stephen shook his head. “No sir.”
“So you should have nothing to worry about.”
Megan frowned. “But they all saw we were cadets,” she cried. “They will be able to find out who we are. What if they come after us?”
Capt Conkey supported her: “Yes Inspector, is there really any danger of that?”
Inspector Goldstein smoothed his moustache again and shook his head: “I should think we will round most of them up fairly quickly from the information you captured.”
“I would like a guarantee,” Capt Conkey insisted. “I am responsible for their safety and welfare.”
“I can’t give you one,” Inspector Goldstein replied. “But if I really thought there was any danger you would all be in protective custody now.”
The other detective now joined in: “Besides, if they were going to come after you they are more likely to do it when you are back at home than here.”
Inspector Goldstein supported him: “That’s right. You are much safer as a group. If you don’t know where you are going to be it is pretty hard for anyone else to know. I think the danger period might be down the track after the initial confusion has died down, not now.”
Stephen grinned: “Still want to go home Dean?”
“Stephen!” Joy gasped.
Inspector Goldstein said: “That is why it is important that you don’t say anything to anyone, not even your parents. The fewer people know, the safer you are.”
A uniformed constable came through from the front and called the Inspector aside. From the way he spoke Peter could sense that there had been some important new development. This was confirmed almost at once. Inspector Goldstein turned back to them.
“A body has just been fished out of the river. We think it might be the man you saw yesterday afternoon at the bottom of the Pyramid. At any rate he is dressed in black. I would like you all to come with me.”
Charmaine let out a cry: “Oh! We won’t have to see it will we?” she cried.
Inspector Goldstein frowned. “I may have to ask one of you to have a look, to confirm if it was the man or not. Come on, leave your gear here and get into the cars.”
“I don’t want to!” Charmaine wailed.
“I don’t care what you want. I gave an order. Get in the cars!” Inspector Goldstein grated, scowling at Capt Conkey to silence his protests as he did.
Peter felt sick. More death! He did not want to see a body but had a nauseating premonition that he was going to have to. They were ushered down the stairs and into three cars, including Capt Conkey’s. This time Peter managed to sit beside Joy, but by accident. She looked quite pale and distressed.
“I hate this,” she whispered.
On an impulse Peter took her hand and squeezed it. She gave him a grateful smile but was still quite upset.
Within a couple of minutes they were on their way. A police car led, followed by the Inspector’s car, then Capt Conkey’s. They went back out to the highway and turned left. Half a kilometre to the south, where the highway crossed the river on a high level concrete bridge, they took a turn-off to the left and dipped down onto the lower bank of the river. This had been developed as a lush park. The dirt vehicle track they were on looped to the right around a toilet block and crossed under the bridge.
The vehicle track wound upstream along the river bank. Several overgrown tracks branched off. The river bank was a mixture of either mowed grass and parkland or patches of long grass and weeds. Several shady trees overhung the bank. The river, at this point about fifty metres wide, flowed slow and clear beside them on the left. To the right the edge of the flood plain was marked by a line of jungle. The near bank was lined alternately by sandy beaches where the locals picnicked and by belts of grass and reeds. The far bank was steep and covered by rainforest.
Two hundred metres upstream, near where a water pipeline crossed the river on concrete pylons, another police car was parked. A constable stood there with a middle aged man in old clothes. The vehicles were parked. Peter opened the door and got out.
Joy looked out. “Do we have to?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Capt Conkey shook his head: “No. Stay here if you want to.”
As Peter walked forward he saw Graham get out of the Inspector’s car, followed by Stephen and Gwen. Megan, Charmaine and Dean remained seated in the cars. Inspector Goldstein bent and said something to them Peter didn’t hear but Charmaine disagreed strongly. She cried back: “No! I don’t want to! You can’t make me!”
Inspector Goldstein’s eyes narrowed. “That isn’t what I said. However, I can make you if I choose; but I was asking, not ordering, so stay in the car.” He straightened up and looked at Peter, then at Graham and Stephen. “Bronsky, Kirk and Bell, you three should be used to this sort of thing. I checked up on you on the computer last night and that was a revelation. You seem to have been in the middle of things a lot. Also Inspector Sharpe speaks very highly of you. So, I am asking: will one of you look at the body to see if you can identify the person.”
“I will sir,” Peter heard himself say. A terrible fascination seemed to draw him towards where he could see a shape lying under a blanket on a small sandy beach beside the river. He had always liked the Mulgrave. It is a lovely river, clean and clear, fresh and cool. At the moment it was flowing gently. About waist deep, he noted inconsequentially. He had even swum at this very spot on a family picnic a few years before.
Capt Conkey and Gwen joined them. Peter didn’t want her to look but she walked determinedly forward. Graham followed but Stephen stayed back with the others. They were allowed under the police tape tied from tree to tree by the constable there. He was one of the policemen they had seen the previous night.
Inspector Goldstein walked to the body and lifted the blanket from the face. From where he stood Peter could not see it but the sight of the boots protruding from the end of the blanket made him go cold with dread. He knew he was frightened of death and it took an effort to make himself go forward to look.
By then Gwen and Graham had both bent to look and Gwen straightened up at once, her lips tightly compressed. “That is definitely the man we saw yesterday afternoon,” she said.
Graham nodded. He looked very pale and slightly sick. How I feel, Peter thought as he forced himself to look.
Peter stared in horrified fascination. It was
the man alright. The pale, waxy looking face showed signs of a bashing and there was some sort of star pattern carved onto his forehead with a razor or sharp knife. The thing which held Peter’s horrified gaze the longest was the huge gash around the man’s throat. The flesh had been ripped as well as cut, so savage had the slash been and the edges of the cut had the appearance of mince. There was no blood visible, having washed off in the river.
His skin looks nearly the same as the body we fished out of the Tinaroo Dam last year, he decided, eyeing the pale and wrinkled flesh with morbid distaste. Well, not us. Roger actually swam in to get him. And Steve wouldn’t have anything to do with that body, he thought. That memory made Peter glance around. Stephen still stood back near the cars and was studiously not looking in their direction. He nodded. “That’s him, Michael Skarface or something.”
“Skranzcy,” Gwen corrected.
The constable pointed to the man. “Hands tied behind his back with wire,” he explained to Inspector Goldstein. Peter shuddered. What a ghastly way to die!
Inspector Goldstein covered the corpse and stood up, to face the middle aged man. “Who are you?”
“Bill Jacobs sir. I was fishing.”
“You found the body?”
“Yes sir,” the fisherman replied. He looked very nervous and glanced fearfully up and down the river bank.
“Are you a local?” Inspector Goldstein asked.
“Yes sir. I’m a diesel fitter at the mill,” the fisherman replied.
“I’ve got his address sir,” the constable put in.
Inspector Goldstein nodded. “Good. So tell me what you saw,” he directed.
The fisherman licked his lips and glanced fearfully around again. This had the effect of causing the hairs on the back of Peter’s neck to stand on end and he also felt an urge to look around for danger. The fisherman shook his head in disbelief, then said: “I was sitting on the bank about a hundred paces upstream. There’s a favourite spot I got over a snag, where I can sit on the overhanging branch of a tree. That way yer can see the fish against the sandy bottom yer see.”
“Yes, yes, get on with it!” snapped Inspector Goldstein irritably.
“Well, along drives this black four-wheel drive, from this track here,” the fisherman explained, pointing upstream. “When it got to a spot just upstream of the water pipe it stopped. I can show yer where.”
“Good, show me in a minute,” Inspector Goldstein said.
“Anyhow, out gets four blokes, all dressed in black. One was this bloke here. He had his hands tied behind his back and he was gagged and I could tell he was terrified. Two of the others had black balaclavas over their faces and both had guns. The fourth wore a sort of cloak thing which hid most of his face.”
“The Black Monk!” Graham cried.
The fisherman looked startled. “Yeah. He looked like one of them Death fellas. Well, he was the boss, no doubt about that. He did a lot of talking and they proceeded to rough this fella up, then to cut him. At first I thought of calling out, but decided against it.”
“Wise move,” Inspector Goldstein agreed. “You would have met the same fate I suspect.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. So I just sat in me tree hoping they would stop and that they wouldn’t notice me. Anyhow, after about ten minutes or so they suddenly all knelt down and started praying. Fair made me blood run cold it did. Gave me a sort of feeling about what was about to happen.”
The mention of that did make Peter’s blood run cold. He shivered and looked anxiously at the surrounding jungle.
The fisherman went on: “Next thing the two guys in black hauled this fella to his feet and held him on the bank. The monk fella suddenly stepped forward and set to with a knife, carving at his face. Then before I realized what he was going to do he slashed his throat from ear to ear. It was terrible. There was blood spurting everywhere.”
At that Gwen turned and retched. Joy and Megan came hurrying forward to help her. The fisherman looked embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset yer. I was sick meself, still am. Anyhow, they just cut off the gag and pushed the body into the water. Then they got into their four wheel drive and drove off.”
“Which way? What time was this?” Inspector Goldstein rapped.
“Towards the highway. They didn’t come back across the bridge and I heard the Black Monk fella say ‘Cairns’, so I reckon they went that way. That was at about eight o’clock I reckon.”
Inspector Goldstein checked his watch and swore. It was nearly nine. “Did you get the vehicle’s number?”
The fisherman shook his head. “Sorry. I was too stunned by it all.”
“I’ve radioed a description to HQ sir,” the constable put in.
Inspector Goldstein nodded. “Very good. Now, what took you so long to report?” he snapped at the fisherman.
“I was scared- bloody terrified actually. I waited till I was sure they weren’t coming back. Then I went and looked for the body, in case he was still alive. He wasn’t though. He had drifted down to here and caught in the reeds over there.”
“You dragged the body ashore?”
“Yes sir. I thought it best,” the fisherman replied.
“Yes, good. OK, you cadets can go back to the cars. Mr Jacobs, you stay with us. You will need to show us the various places, then come to the station to make a statement.”
“Can we go now sir?” Gwen asked. She looked a sickly green colour.
“Not yet. You will need to come back to the station to add to your statements. It shouldn’t take long.”
“Then can we go?” Gwen persisted.
“Yes.”
So back to the station they went, a very silent group filled with worry and morbid thoughts. Charmaine became almost hysterical when she learned it was the man they had met.
“They hunted him down and killed him! Now they will come after us!” she shrieked.
“Take it easy! He was a traitor who betrayed them,” Capt Conkey tried to reason.
“I don’t care! I’m scared! I want to go home, now!”
Capt Conkey went to the telephone while Inspector Goldstein got a constable to type a short statement confirming that they had identified the body. Once these were signed they were allowed to collect their gear and mobile phones. They waited out on the veranda till Capt Conkey joined them.
“The Inspector says we can leave now,” he explained. “I have phoned your parents Dean and they are going to drive down and collect you here. They should arrive by about two o’clock. Charmaine, I am driving you to Cardwell. Your father is driving up from Townsville to meet us. They are obviously very worried because I won’t explain the trouble so you think of some suitable story. If need be just say the police have ordered you to say nothing and get them to contact Inspector Goldstein.”
“What about us sir?” Peter asked.
“You others may as well start walking. It is only ten now. You will easily make Little Mulgrave today. I should be back by about seventeen hundred, last light anyway. I will meet you at the hotel there. Unless of course you have had second thoughts and want to go home too?”
The cadets looked at each other. Peter was scared but didn’t want to admit it. He suspected the others felt the same. After a moment he shrugged: “If you think it is safe we will continue the hike.”
“The Inspector thinks it is. I also agree with him that you are safer as a group and not at your homes on your own. So let’s get moving and forget this horrible business.”
“OK, shop first,” Graham agreed.
Chapter 8
MULGRAVE VALLEY
“Goodbye Charmaine,” Joy called as Capt Conkey’s car was started up. Charmaine gave them a sickly smile and looked away. Capt Conkey nodded and let in the clutch.
Stephen curled his lip. “Silly fat bitch,” he commented as the car moved away.
“Don’t be horrible Stephen,” Joy snapped. “She can’t help it if she is a bit overweight.”
“A bit! She’s go
t more blubber than a bloody whale,” Stephen retorted.
Gwen shook her head. “That’s enough! We’ve had more than our share of unpleasantness this morning,” she said.
Graham nodded. “Yes, stow it Steve,” he agreed. “Hey Dean, you coming to the shop?”
Dean shook his head.
“Mind our gear then,” Graham added.
Peter had to smile. “If it isn’t safe at the cop shop it isn’t safe anywhere!” he said.
That comment at least helped lift their spirits a bit. As they walked across the park to the shops Graham and Gwen both joined in, joking in a determined effort to cheer themselves up. By the time they returned to the police station half an hour later they all felt much better.
“Oh well, packs on,” Graham ordered.
Gear was swung on and adjusted. Graham took out his map and studied it.
Peter leaned over to look. “Which way?” he asked.
“We could go along the highway, or along the tramline,” Graham replied. “I vote for the tramline. The highway will be dangerous and I don’t fancy walking along with trucks and cars roaring past all the time.”
“I agree. Tramline it is,” Peter replied. In the front of his mind was the thought that they would be much more obvious walking beside a highway.
And we might attract unwelcome attention too, he thought.
“Where is it?” Joy asked.
Graham pointed to the sugar mill. “It leads out of that. Come on, let’s go. See you later Dean.”
They all chorused a farewell to Dean, who was left looking miserable and unhappy.
Graham led the way to the corner of the block and across the street to where a 2 foot gauge light railway, the ‘tramline’, ran out of the sugar mill beside the 3 foot 6 inch main line. The group turned right and walked along the grass verge of the road beside the railway.
As they walked, with houses on their right and the railway on their left, Peter hoisted his pack into a more comfortable position and breathed deeply. It was a relief to be away on their own and walking. He looked up and around. The sky was clear. The cold wind had died down making it very pleasant to be outside.
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