by Brian Cain
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Blake led the horse float slowly down the roadway mid morning of the following day. They parked in front of Gail Flametower's glass fronted office but Blake could not see her through the glass. He looked around scanning the paddocks and adjacent scrubland but on one could be seen. The float driver brought Blake's attention to a lady standing outside the stable's not far from the house, she appeared distressed with her hands over her face. Blake used his car for speed and found Gail crying uncontrollably. It took a while to calm her and find out what was wrong.
"Jessica's gone, I think she taken Flaxmead I can't find either of them."
"Calm down, come inside."
They walked towards the house, "She was so upset when I told her Flaxmead was leaving us last night. She must have got up early and runaway with him."
Blake sent the float away as they passed the driver took Gail into the kitchen and occupied her mind asking where things were to make a cup of coffee for them both. It worked and she began to settle down. "I'm sorry Winston what a disaster."
"A young women running off with a horse she's in love with hardly a disaster. She may just be galloping around the scrub before he goes. I want her to look after Flaxmead in Pokolbin for me I should have mentioned that yesterday this is my fault."
Gail became stern. "Oh Winston don't be absurd, I've been looking for them since first light. Flaxmead's tracks clearly led down to the end of the road out of earshot and stop where the marks of a loading ramp crossed the road, a trucks wheel marks are start a few metres on. Jessica's foot prints were everywhere along with another set, they end climbing into either side of the truck where the doors would be along side the wheel marks. Jessica planned this."
"Where would she go, do you have any idea?"
"Could be a loads of places, but her direct friends wouldn't have access to a truck. Someone with facilities has helped her and there's plenty of them round here from Sydney to Newcastle. Do you want to call the police?"
"Definitely not, if Jessica has Flaxmead he's safe. I'm more concerned about Jessica. Write a list of places you think she may have gone, we can start visiting them."
"We can ring round first."
"If the wrong person picks up the phone they'd know. Check from a distance first then go in and talk to people, well find her."
"Oh God what a mess and just as I was finding my legs again."
Blake got up and offered his hand to Gail with a half smile. "Come on lets go, the first forty eight hours is important. Show me the first place and make a list as we drive. She's your daughter try and think like her, who would she turn to for help that could help."
They searched all day and into the night. They worked in an ever increasing circles but not a trace of the Jessica or the stallion had been found. They became too tired to go any further and Blake pulled into a motel wakening the owner in the early hours of the morning and procuring two rooms. They slept for a short time rising before first light, a shower freshening them for the long day ahead. Blake meet more people in the industry than he believed existed, they asked about Jessica but the answer was the same everywhere no one had seen her. They eliminated everyone Gail could think of and had come up with nothing.
Blake stayed at Gail's place on the second night again they got little sleep and rose early to discuss the next move. If Jessica had run off because she was upset then it should have waned by now, Gail pressed it was way out of character.
"I think we should go to the police Winston," said Gail trying to eat some breakfast but her mind was too burdened and told her she didn't need food she needed Jessica.
"The police would do exactly what we did but it would take them weeks."
"There's one more person we can check in Newcastle and Id only do it because of the circumstances. Jessica's father."
"Why did we not go there earlier?"
Jessica hates her father, but he has a big stable and a truck. Maybe."
"Well let's go."
Jessica's father was not home, his wife allowed them to look around but they found nothing. They decided to go to the Newcastle police station and report her missing. Blake thought they would at least listen as she had been missing for over two days. They parked on the sea side of Watt Street next to Fletcher Park not far from the police station overlooking the waves breaking on the rocks. The wind was blowing from the sea and Gail ran across the road and into the station to avoid her hair being blown all over the place, Blake was not far behind. They attended the desk and a young male part aboriginal officer offered assistance.
"Can I help you?" Gail stuttering awkwardly told the officer of her missing daughter. He listened patiently for the story then pulled out his pen. "I'll fill in a report and pass it on to missing persons. We search the records and latest reports for anything obvious but I've heard nothing of late."
"This could take some time, weeks perhaps," enquired Blake.
"Years in some cases yes sir," said the officer.
"Yes my daughter has been missing for years now," replied Blake.
The young officer had a look of anguish. "We see a lot of it I can understand your concern. Your daughter went missing round here enquired the officer.
"No a place called Bowral it's been some years now."
The officer became very interested. "What was her name?"
"Rose, Rose Blake."
"I remember her, I think you were questioned at one time I studied the case working on mapping trends for the Newcastle area. Sorry I think your questioning was a bit insensitive. The forest was full of bodies who knows who's still out there, nasty business that."
"Oh don't blame yourselves you are just doing you're job, Id do anything to find my daughter but Jessica is the focus at present."
The young officer was impressed with Blake's attitude. "Look em, I would normally follow standard practice here but this could help." The young officer scribbled a name and address on the back of a card and handed it to Gail. "Go and see this guy, if he can't find Jessica no one can. If I file a report he would come up on the radar if he did a search or so much as put her name in the internet and weed be working against each other."
Gail studied the card. "John Stanton the name rings a bell. He was in the news a court case. Broke a politicians arm or something can't really remember it was awhile back."
"If he broke a politician's arm Id like to meet him anyway," said Blake.
The officer chuckled under his breath. "Mr Stanton's case failed at the preliminary hearing there's no evidence anywhere to say Mr Stanton has harmed anyone or done anything wrong. The point that Mr Stanton found the poly in bed with his separated wife is neither here nor there."
Blake laughed quietly. "He lives above Bar beach just up the road, you'll find him sitting in his lounge doing nothing and that annoys me. Be sure to tell him the Cadiche man sent you or he wont listen."
"My goodness you're the policeman they call the Cadiche man. I've read about what you've been doing isn't that wonderful Winston this is the Cadiche man."
"Cadiche man, ancient aboriginal medicine man."
"Correct educated man. Tell me if an aboriginal saw an echidna in the bush what would he call it!" asked Cadiche.
"A porcupine," answered Blake.
"How did you know that? asked Cadiche.
"Aboriginal trackers when I was looking for Rose. A scientist named the echidna, early British settlers called them porcupines because they didn't know any different. Aboriginals didn't meet many scientists but they meet a lot of British settlers."
Cadiche looked blank. "I'll shut up I think, remember tell Stanton Cadiche sent you."
"Absolutely thanks very much you've been very helpful." Gail and Winston left.
The Bentley stopped sedately outside Stanton's mansion, they admired the view of the beach and sea making comment before ambling towards Stanton's front door hand over eyes studying the extensive architecture and looking interested. Stanton's wife Jodi noticed the visitors from the upstairs bed
room as she tidied the room and shouted down the stairs to her husband.
"Visitors John!"
"Yes Love!" Stanton had already run the number plate of the rolling bank account into his computer and came up with Wilson Hornswaddle and Bartholomew Fothrington. There names were like a rash all over the screen, Stanton wondered what they didn't have anything to do with.
He opened the door before they knocked to surprised faces. "Hornswaddle or Fothrington," he asked offering his hand.
Gail noticed the tinge of expensive perfume and Blake recognised hand tailored shirt and trousers. "Blake," answered Winston, "The Cadiche man sent us." There was a firm handshake, "I used to do the same thing that's what number plates are for," replied Blake.
Jodi came to the bottom of the stairs. "Well ask them in John we have a house with seven bedrooms two lounge rooms and a rumpus room and you talk to someone on the doorstep."
"Cadiche, a problem?" asked Stanton.
"Sixteen year old girl my daughter Jessica missing for over two days," said Gail in a laboured tone.
"Come in follow my wife Jodi, you'll be able to tell us apart she'll be the one giving all the orders."
"John the people are looking for a missing girl not a script writer for a cheap television comedy."
"Please forgive my wife she's a journalist." Gail and Winston chuckled as they followed Jodi she led them to the kitchen sitting them at the breakfast bar. They exchanged introductions and Jodi prepared coffee as per requests.
"We have a house with seven bedrooms two lounge rooms and a rumpus room and you talk to someone in the kitchen," said Stanton.
"John, get on with it, the poor lady has lost her daughter," replied Jodi.
Gail and Blake resited the events of the last two days this took two cups of coffee, Stanton listened intently by the time they got to explaining about going to the police Gail burst out crying. Jodi led her away into a lounge room and sat her on a couch starting conversation to reconcile Gail. Stanton and Blake remained in the kitchen. "Did you ask neighbours or the local shop and servo workers if they had seen a horse float during the course of the morning," asked Stanton.
"How stupid of me, I never thought of that."
"Must be something else, Cadiche would not normally do this he'd file a missing persons."
"I feel he felt sorry for us, I lost my daughter some years back Rose she is still missing."
"Rose Blake the backpacker murders of course now I see why. You used aboriginal trackers and questioned as a suspect."
"Yes."
"Cadiche read between the lines good call. Write down Gail's address give me an hour and Ill be there."
Blake was taken back. "Thank you, thank you very much." They made their way out seen off by Jodi and Stanton. They were standing on the doorstep as Gail and Winston began to walk to their car.
"I hope your not going to Gail's place in that dam car John, will be embarrassing for her, having a mature man roll up in that red thing."
"It's a nineteen sixty nine four hundred and ninety cubic inch supercharged Ford Mustang love."
"I've told you time after time why don't you get a nice car like Mr Blake."
"It's Bentley an old mans car love."
"You're sixty five John our grand children don't drive cars like that red thing."
"Love we've been through this before, I have found ageing to be inevitable and growing up optional."
"Now John Stanton, its high time you did something useful like help Gail find her daughter and Winston find his horse. Don't break anybody's body parts and don't shot anyone and get rid of that damn red thing."
Stanton ran his palm and fingers through his greying hair from his forehead to the top of his neck and let out a big sigh. He always found himself doing it when Jodi reinforced things he had already made a decision on. "I told Mr Blake I'd be with him in an hour love, but I'm going in the red thing."
"Oh, well that's a start." replied Jodi with a stern look but when she turned and walked into the house away from her husband she wore a smile.
Blake and Gail headed back to Freemans Water Hole. "That's and interesting couple," commented Gail.
"Very much in love," replied Winston.
"I thought so to. Whenever his wife talks to him he melts."
"That John Stanton has an intimidating presence, reminds me of Flaxmead."
"You think he's a horse, I thought he was absolutely dashing."
"No, similar attitudes, knows just what he wants to do and how to go about it. I know you didn't notice but Mr Stanton had a hand gun concealed at belt level in the back of his trousers. He never took his back from the wall the entire time we were there. The house is bristling with surveillance cameras and not so much as a family picture anywhere just antique furniture. I couldn't get information about who he was at all from the surroundings apart from his wife mentioned grandchildren."
"I couldn't really say, I didn't take much notice. You sure he was carrying a gun."
"Yes he walked in front of me twice I could clearly see it but never took his back from the wall when we were talking."
"Why would be keep his back to the wall and then suddenly allow you to see he had a gun?"
"He wasn't trying to hide the gun, was a second nature thing. No one can get behind you if you have your back to the wall so you can always see what their doing. Like Flaxmead he has been trained so well some things are second nature he does them without thinking. It would appear John Stanton is trained to deal with difficult and violent people."
They pressed on down the F3 motorway towards Sydney taking the Freemans Waterhole turn off Blake mentioned the simple tactic Stanton had suggested regarding soliciting locals observations on the morning of Jessica's disappearance. They agreed that being blinded by shock panic and grief had shrouded judgement like putting blinkers on a running horse. This became more apparent as Blake saw flashing red and blue lights in his rear vision mirror. A police car patrolling the Freeway followed them pulling the whisper quiet Bentley up on the exit ramp as soon as they left the Freeway. Blake had lost concentration and crept above the speed limit.
A young officer climbed from the driver's seat of the police vehicle and Blake embarrassed by his inattention alighted, his lean framework compliments of a busy life left to much skin on his face and he occasionally looked as if he had two chins. They meet at the rear of the stately British monarch and the young officers perfectly groomed uniform contrasted with Blake's carefully tailored white shirt, solid gold cufflinks and black trousers. "Morning sir," said the officer. "The reason I have stopped you is we logged your speed at one hundred and twenty kilometres per hour in a hundred and ten zone do you have any reason for exceeding the speed limit and I would like to see your drivers licence please."
Blake fumbled for his wallet and handed the officer his international licence. "I'm terribly sorry," replied Blake. "My colleague in the car her daughter sixteen has been missing for two days and we have been desperately trying to find her."
"Lodged a missing persons with us have you sir?"
"Not as yet."
"I would have thought that if a person had lost their daughter that we would be one of the first ports of call."
Blake looked empty, his face reflected deep concern and was becoming pale. "Yes of course you're right and we did go to the Newcastle police station this morning and was given some firm advice by an officer there."
"Remember the officers name sir?"
"Yes rather different Cadiche a part aboriginal gentleman."
The young officer immediately looked up from making notes of details on Blake's licence. "Okay you just convinced me you went to the Newcastle station what advice did Cadiche offer."
"He sent us to see a gentleman called John Stanton."
"You meet with John Stanton."
"Yes he has offered to assist us most generous of the gentleman I feel. This car doesn't belong to me either which may look rather suspicious."
The young offic
er handed back Blake's licence. "We already know that Mr Blake could you just wait a moment while I talk to my partner." The officer went back to the police car sat in the driver's seat talking with his partner for a couple of minutes as Blake informed Gail of the circumstances confronting them. The young officer returned but this time he was accompanied by his partner a burly sergeant who did all the talking.
"Sorry to have bothered you Mr Blake but we would appreciate it if you could albeit under trying circumstances keep an eye on your speed. We would hate to see you involved in an accident, have a good day." The officers walked back to their vehicle and it speed away leaving Blake scratching his head, Gail saw the police car speed away and got out joining Winston at the rear of the vehicle.
"What happened?"
"That's extraordinary; they apologised for bothering us and requested I pay more attention. I was clearly in the wrong and admitted it. I mentioned John Stanton and the officers face changed in a flash."
"I think I remember his name from a front page story a while back now. He was supposed to have broken a politicians arm and the preliminary court hearing was a fiasco."
"Broke a politicians arm no wonder I liked the man."
"Winston!" She retrieved the Sydney newspaper she had been reading purchased when buying fuel at a service station before they left Newcastle and pointed out a picture. "Look Stanton's wife, he said she was a journalist and she has a daily column of current political affairs but her name in here is Jodi Simpson."
Blake studied the picture. "That's her alright or her twin sister. Oh well, we'll know more soon. We've been held up here for ten minutes, I bet Stanton knocks on our door in exactly fifty minutes. There's something military about this man."
