Without a Doubt

by Fleur McDonald

  He didn’t have anywhere to go tonight, now that Bulldust was shitty. His swag was at the depot and he wasn’t going back there until he knew Shane had gone.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ he snarled.

  Lights came around the corner and a patrol car pulled up next to him. Joe’s leering face was at the window and his offsider was on the radio.

  ‘I see you just couldn’t control yourself, could you?’

  ‘I need a bit of practice.’ Dave shrugged. Fucking perfect.

  Both the cops got out of the car. Joe had his hand on his hip, near his gun.

  Dave threw his hands up in the air. ‘I’m not going to give you any trouble.’ He turned around and put his hands behind his back.

  ‘I’m keeping you in tonight,’ Joe said as he got Dave to empty out his pockets.

  Dave didn’t answer, just stared straight ahead.

  ‘You seem to love trouble, don’t you?’

  ‘You’re telling the story.’

  Shaking his head, Joe led him into the cells and slammed the door behind him. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. To take you to the judge.’

  Dave looked around the cell and sighed. At least his plan had worked. He had a bed for the night and he was safe. Now all he needed was to get some sleep and hopefully see Justin.

  Lying down on the bed, Dave thought about Melinda. He wondered what she’d say if he told her what had happened with Shane. He gave a snort. She wouldn’t be happy. He doubted she’d understand it was all part of the act. He didn’t feel anything for Shane. Sure, she was nice to look at, and a bit of feminine company after the roughness of the blokes was a good thing, but he wasn’t telling Shane to stay her distance only because of Bulldust. It was because he loved Mel too.

  He shut his eyes and imagined her face. What she looked like when she was laughing. Talking seriously. Concentrating. Orgasming.

  ‘Stop it,’ he told himself.

  There was the sound of a key in the lock and Dave shot up, expecting to see Joe standing there with that stupid grin on his face. Instead it was Justin.

  ‘Where’s Joe?’

  ‘Off duty.’

  ‘Is it safe?’

  ‘I’m in here as part of my community policing role. You’re an angry pissant and I’d like to help you. Get you some counselling.’ Justin sat down. ‘So what have you got?’

  ‘We did a muster about an hour’s drive north where we got a C-train worth of cleanskin calves. The holding station is in the Northern Territory. I’ve been there. Larry is the truck driver; Chris the chopper pilot; George, he’s really just a lackey. There’s a guy by the name of Scotty who is on the holding station. Now the twist is, I’ve seen him before. There’s a link to WA somehow. I’ve seen the brand …’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘A horseshoe facing up like a cup with the initials SA inside. I reckon they stand for Ashley and Shane. Shane is Bulldust’s daughter and he guards her like a bulldog.’

  Justin indicated Dave’s face. ‘You know something about that personally?’

  ‘Yeah. She’s persistent.’

  ‘Is that going to cause you some trouble?’

  ‘Hoping not, but she blindsided me tonight and Bulldust didn’t like it.’

  ‘Have you got anything on William Clarke’s murder?’

  ‘Not enough, but circumstantial.’ He told Justin about Scotty and his conversation with Larry.

  Justin rubbed his face tiredly. ‘Do you think you can get any more?’

  ‘Is what I’ve given you enough to get a warrant to search the depot?’

  ‘I can work on that. Why?’

  ‘I haven’t seen anything but there might be some evidence there. I mean, the place is like Fort Knox, cameras everywhere. I don’t know if they record or if they’re a ruse, but there might be footage.’

  ‘Nah, too risky. Can you stay in there a bit longer?’

  ‘Not sure what sort of work he’s going to have for me now. Mustering season’s finished. We had a cut-out tonight. Oh, and speaking of the cut-out, your officer Joe turned up at the river. Bulldust said he was just patrolling, but he was by himself so, unless he lost his partner, there’s something amiss there.’

  ‘You reckon it’s him who’s dirty?’ Justin blanched.

  ‘He’s been in a lot of places I’ve been. Worth keeping an eye on.’

  ‘You’re doing great work, Dave. Really good.’

  Dave nodded.

  ‘I’ll see if I can get you out of here in the morning without having to go to court. I’ll say I’ve got you booked in for an anger management session first thing. You get back out there and see what’s going to happen.’

  ‘Sure thing.’

  ‘And create a stir again if you need to talk to me. This worked well.’

  Dave hesitated. ‘I’d like a safe house, just in case the shit hits the fan and Joe is dirty. I won’t be able to come here.’

  ‘No. You won’t. Good point.’ Justin thought. ‘I tell you what. At the back of my house is a shed. I’ll put water, food and medical supplies in there. If something goes wrong, go straight there. Put the red flowerpot outside the door so I know you’re there, okay?’

  Dave nodded.

  Justin gave him the address and Dave memorised it.

  ‘I’ve got some news for you from home,’ Justin said, looking straight at Dave.

  ‘Oh yeah?’

  ‘Spencer called to tell me Melinda had driven to Barrabine to see him.’

  Dave stomach dropped. Divorce papers. He clenched his jaw.

  ‘She’s pregnant.’

  Dave stared at Justin. ‘She’s what?’

  Justin didn’t answer,

  ‘Wha— How far along?’

  ‘Couple of months—probably a bit longer now because I’ve had the news for a week.’

  Dave did the maths in his head. It went back to that night. ‘It’s mine.’ It was a statement not a question.

  ‘Melinda made it very clear to Spencer it was. Congratulations. You’re going to be a dad again.’

  Staring at Justin, he couldn’t think of anything to say. Too many emotions were fizzing inside him—despair at not being there, love, excitement, fear. Did she want to be with him still? Surely if she’d driven all the way to Barrabine to tell Spencer …

  ‘How is she? The morning sickness was awful when she was pregnant with Bec.’

  ‘He didn’t say.’

  Letting out a long breath, Dave shook his head. ‘This is completely unreal.’

  ‘Mate, I know this has come as a shock, but you have to keep your mind on the task at hand. You hear me? If you let this control your head, you’re going to have trouble, and we know these guys kill. Yeah?’

  Dave sat up straight and looked at Justin. ‘I know.’

  ‘Good. Hang in there. You’re doing a great job.’ Justin got up and went to the door. ‘Dave? Stay safe.’

  The heavy iron door clanged behind him and Dave was left alone in the cell. He put his head in between his knees and took a few deep breaths.

  ‘Another baby,’ he whispered. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. ‘I’m going to be a dad again.’

  Swinging his legs around, he lay back on the bed, his hands behind his head, thinking. He desperately wanted to talk to Mel, to hear her voice. To have her tell him the news herself.

  He wished now he’d not snuck out of the hotel room that early morning. He could’ve stayed with her a few extra hours and held her. Talked with her, about their future.

  That word sent shivers of ice running through his veins. Did they have a future? And just because Mel was pregnant didn’t mean she wanted to be with him. All the news meant was that she was having his baby.

  Dave knew what he had to do. He needed to get out. To go back. To talk to her and do whatever it took to save their marriage.

  Chapter 34

  ‘You must’ve been kissed on the dick by angels,’ Joe said as he opened the cell door.

  Dave opened his eyes
and sat up. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Apparently you’re going to anger management counselling rather than court. Lucky you. I know which I’d prefer.’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Seems like it. Okay, on your feet. Let’s get going.’

  Dave stood, rubbing his eyes, and followed Joe out of the cell and down the passageway.

  ‘Sign for your things,’ he said, pushing over Dave’s wallet and Joe Reacher novel.

  Scribbling his signature, he grabbed them and shoved the wallet into his pocket, wondering where he was supposed to go for the appointment.

  ‘Here’s the address of the clinic and the time. If you don’t show, you go to court.’

  Dave nodded.

  ‘And, dude, try to stay out of trouble this time. I’m getting sick of the sight of you.’

  ‘You don’t do much for me either,’ Dave answered. He turned around and went out the door into the humid morning heat.

  Looking at the piece of paper Joe had given him, Dave realised there was an hour before the appointment. He didn’t want to be wasting time stuffing around with this sort of thing when he’d decided that he’d tell Bulldust he had to leave unexpectedly, so he thought he could probably skip the counselling session. For all he knew, it was just a pretence anyway.

  He turned and walked in the direction of the depot, trying to work out what he was going to say to Bulldust when he got there.

  The shed was empty when he arrived and to his relief Shane’s Nissan Navara had gone. He didn’t know where she went when she wasn’t mustering, but it was clear to Dave that she only came back for legit musters and wasn’t allowed to hang around the depot. Maybe she had a house in town. If she did, Dave hoped she was going to stay there today.

  ‘Look what the cat dragged in.’ Bulldust was standing behind him.

  Dave turned around, his hands outstretched. ‘Mate, I’m sorry about last night.’

  Bulldust harrumphed.

  ‘I told you I wasn’t going there and I’m not. You have my word.’

  Bulldust nodded. ‘I know. I owe you an apology too. Shouldn’t have flogged you last night. Too many beers in the sun at the end of the season.’

  ‘We good?’

  ‘We’re good.’

  Bulldust grinned. ‘Don’t know how you’re going to stack up in the ring up against Fred Brophy’s boys if you go down like a sack of potatoes when I hit you.’

  ‘To be fair, you had the element of surprise. I had my eyes shut.’

  ‘Don’t remind me.’

  Dave nodded, a strange feeling of butterflies racing around in his stomach. He’d trained himself not to get nervous. But this wasn’t a usual situation and there was a lot at stake. He’d listened to Justin last night and knew he had to get more evidence, but he also knew he needed to plant the seed he was going to leave. A man was only as good as his word out here, and if he was going to keep Bulldust onside, he needed to be as truthful as he could be.

  ‘What do we do now?’ he asked, moving to a chair to sit down.

  ‘Now the season has finished?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Maintenance mostly. We’ll shift some of the calves that have got decent coverage on them from the Territory block. Knuckle down. The heat’s coming and when it hits here, there’s really only two things to do: sit in the river and drink beer.’

  ‘Like the sound of that.’

  ‘We all do. Have you heard if your bike is fixed yet?’

  ‘Nah, I’m going there this afternoon. But I wanted to talk to you first.’

  ‘About what?’ Bulldust was suddenly alert.

  ‘I’ve got issues back in WA.’

  ‘What sort of issues?’

  ‘Just shit I gotta sort out. I need to take off when my bike is ready, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  Bulldust looked at him steadily for moment and said, ‘I told you, you’re in or you’re out.’

  ‘And I’m in, but I gotta sort some shit. Won’t take long. I’ll be back in time for the next muster.’

  ‘I don’t like it.’

  ‘You reckon I do? Drive fucking however many thousands of kilometres and then back again? I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to. I like it here.’

  Bulldust nodded. ‘Fair enough. I’ll let you get organised.’

  ‘I’m not going yet. I’ve still got a date with the court and I need to take four hundred bucks off you and Larry. I’ll help you get everything all sorted. I’m pretty good on a spanner too, so I’ll be able to drop the oil in the bikes and stuff like that.’

  ‘That’d be good.’

  Bulldust watched Dave walk down the road with his kit over his shoulder, looking much the same as he had the first time Bulldust had seen him. Down on his luck and drifting. Needing no one.

  He picked up the phone and dialled a number. ‘We’ve got a problem,’ he said. ‘He needs to go back home. What do you want to do?’ He listened. ‘Right.’ He hung up.

  Another phone call. ‘I want you to check out this Dave bloke.’

  ‘I already have.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I dunno, he seems legit. Nothing on his rap sheet other than a few assaults—we’ve seen that here. His DL checks out as does his family farming situation in Northam. My contacts say the family is still there on the farm. Dad is still in charge, but brother is there too. I don’t have any problems with his story.

  ‘As you know, it’s pretty hard to track a drifter after that. But he got into a fight in Casterton in Victoria a couple of years ago, then one in New South Wales last year. Looks like he was working his way up here.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘I locked him up again last night. Whacked a couple of college kids home for the holidays. He seems to like the attention of the coppers.’

  ‘Anger management.’

  ‘Or attitude.’

  ‘One’s the same as the other.’

  ‘Problems?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Let me know if you need me.’

  ‘I will.’

  Bulldust hung up the phone and tapped the receiver against his hand.

  ‘Bike’s not ready, mate,’ Isaac said to Dave when he walked in through the doors of the workshop. ‘Sorry. I reckon it’s gonna be another three or four days. The buggers in Brisbane sent me the wrong fuel lines.’

  ‘I’ve got the money.’

  ‘All good to go then. It’s not going to come to as much as I thought. Only a grand.’

  Dave unrolled the bills that Bulldust had given him the previous day and counted out ten.

  ‘Thanks, I’ll get it ready for you as soon as I can.’

  ‘Thanks for trusting me,’ Dave said to Isaac. ‘’Preciate it.’

  So that was that. He had a week to get more evidence and information. Then he had a date with the court and a boxing tent.

  He turned and headed to the roadhouse for a coffee and a read.

  Chapter 35

  The drum outside Fred Brophy’s boxing tent started with a slow boom, boom, boom and got faster and faster.

  The crowd inside the tent were jostling against each other, all trying to get closer to the front to see the action. They were yelling out encouragement and whooping, whipping the competitors into a frenzy.

  ‘Come on, have a go,’ a bloke said to his mate.

  ‘You first,’ his mate answered.

  ‘I’m gonna have a crack,’ someone else said. ‘Might be able to win a grand! That’s more than I make in a week.’

  ‘You reckon you’re going to beat one of Fred’s boys?’ another guy said. ‘You’re dreaming!’

  Dave wiped the sweat away from his eyes. The tent was hot, humid and stank like sweat and beer. It was white with black and white flag streamers hung across the roof. The ring looked like a proper boxing ring—canvas cover and, underneath, plywood and shock-absorbing foam.

  There was a line-up of young men in front of Dave, all wearing gloves and shadow-boxing, while Fred’s boys wer
e lined up on the other, casually watching the competition.

  Fred stepped out into the ring to a loud cheer and he put his hand up in acknowledgement. ‘Ladies and gents, my name is Fred Brophy and I’m the fairest ref around!’

  Another cheer.

  Dave looked out into the crowd and saw Larry, Chris and George sitting a couple of rows back from the rope cordoning off the ring. George saw him looking and gave him the thumbs-up. Dave pretended he hadn’t seen him. Bulldust must still be on his way.

  The sound of the bell sent the crowd into a new fever pitch and it was hard to hear what Fred was saying, even through his loudspeaker.

  ‘Hope you’ve all had a good time tonight, watching the boys go at it. Now if you take a look down beside the ring, there’re all your local fellas and they’ve got enough Dutch courage to get up and fight our blokes. Win or lose, it doesn’t matter.’ The loud voice of the showman echoed in Dave’s ears. ‘Give the locals a round of applause.’

  Dave saw Larry put his fingers to his lips and give a loud whistle and then he stood up and whooped, swinging his arm around. ‘You got ’em, Dave,’ he yelled.

  On each side of the ring there was a bloke spraying misty water. They offered it to the boxers, into their mouths, and then sprayed the air as the competitors came out of the ring.

  Dave had once read an article about Fred Brophy and he knew he could sum up a person just by looking at them. He’d be matching his fighters to the ability of the local who had stepped into the ring. The showman had been in and out of boxing tents since he was born, and he was the fourth generation to take the show around the eastern states. Rarely did a local take out one of his fighters. Dave didn’t care, just so long as he didn’t get too much of a hiding today. He was going to get four hundred simply for getting into the ring.

  Fred’s first boxer, Dingo, climbed over the ropes, wearing the uniform of a red singlet and board shorts. He tapped his gloves together and stared down his opponent.

  ‘First off the rank is a young man right from this very town, Nundrew. Put your hands together for Jimmy Watson!’ He drew out the name Watson and a nervous young bloke stepped over the rope and onto the mat.