Twenty-seven
The front doors of the Elsie Creek Police Station slid open, releasing a brush of cool office air that blended with a rich coffee aroma greeting Ryder, Charlie, and Bree.
‘Policeman Porter,’ called out Charlie to the officer behind the large counter. ‘Just the fella I came to see.’
‘It’s Senior—’
‘Whatever. Have you solved the mystery yet?’
‘No. Morning, Bree.’ Porter came around the counter to give her a friendly peck on the cheek, shaking Ryder’s hand as the security door clicked shut behind him. ‘Look out, you two are in the same room together—you’re not going to fist it out or something?’
‘We’re playing nicely,’ said Bree. ‘But I’ll be selling tickets later if you want the sunset show. I’m sure there’ll be fireworks by then.’
Ryder hoped not. With a clink of glass, he tucked the plastic bag he was carrying under his arm to remove his hat and straighten his hair. ‘Is Marcus in?’
‘Yeah, go on through.’ Porter swiped his card to open the security door. Charlie bustled through, but Bree hesitated. Which was unlike her.
Ryder gently placed his hand on her lower back. ‘Do you want to come with me or stay with Charlie?’
‘How do I do both?’
‘I’m all right, kid. I don’t need a babysitter.’ Charlie poked up the brim of his hat, to squint at the large table covered with assorted evidence.
Ryder recognised some of it from the cave they’d found after the landslide.
‘Now, Porter, please indulge an old man and tell me what you’ve learned.’
‘Um, well…’ Porter gave Bree a pleading look for help.
Ryder could see she was torn. ‘How about I fill you in later on what Marcus tells me and you tell me what Porter tells Charlie?’
‘Deal.’ She gave Porter a brotherly tap on his upper arm. ‘Porter, did you say that Charlie needed to sign something?’
‘I did.’ Porter sighed with relief as he escorted Bree to the large evidence table.
Ryder left them to it, rapping his knuckles on Marcus’s open office door. ‘Morning.’
Sunshine streamed through the back window silhouetting the bulky body-building frame of the OIC, Elsie Creek’s Detective Senior Sergeant Marcus Moore, seated behind his large desk. ‘Hey, Ryder, this is a surprise.’
Ryder closed the door and shook hands with Marcus. ‘Brought you something.’ He dug around in his carry bag to pull out a bottle of bourbon.
‘Jeez, you did not just put that on my desk.’ Marcus didn’t touch it, only raising his eyebrows at the bottle.
It was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s Red Dog Saloon. It was one of the smoothest whiskies Ryder had ever tasted. ‘One day I’ll have a bourbon room, and I’d keep a case of that in there.’ He slid it closer across the desk.
Still not touching it, the senior sergeant sat heavily in his large director’s chair on the other side of the desk covered in paperwork. ‘I know it’s not my birthday. So, what’s going on?’
‘Well…’ Ryder sat in the guest chair, producing his still images as he explained all about Leo’s operation, ending his debriefing with the confession about his own surveillance cameras set in the heart of his neighbour’s property.
‘Oi, that’s illegal, mate,’ said the no-nonsense cop, wearing a scowl.
‘I’m well aware. But I also know you don’t have the equipment, and you’d be stuck under red tape, too. And the real reason I’m telling you this quietly is…’
Marcus arched an eyebrow. ‘Go on.’
‘Leo has deep pockets with lots of cash to splash with a lot of contacts. He had a mining official in the government send us a fake letter demanding access to our water. He’s got his dodgy lawyers on retainer, and we don’t know who else he has on his payroll. We must keep this in-house as much as possible. I can’t risk someone tipping Leo off, when we both know how small the Territory is at times. Look, Leo may come across as a smooth-talking businessman, but he’s not.’
‘Tell that to the local mother’s group who love him for the donation he made to the school pool.’
‘Do you trust Leo?’
‘Nope. He’s too smooth for my books.’
‘But he’s smart. Leo has always been ten steps ahead of us. But not this time. This time we have him.’
‘Any idea when Leo is going to start harvesting that crop?’ Marcus tapped on the images showing Leo’s dope field.
‘Dex reckons it’ll be less than two weeks.’
‘And what are you and your brothers going to do in that time?’ Marcus leaned back in his director’s chair, like Dex rocked on his chair’s back legs.
‘Besides protecting our property, we’re all taking turns to watch Leo’s outfit.’
‘Are you saying you have your neighbour under full surveillance?’
‘That prick has been doing it to us, long before we even met him. Did you know he had one of his cronies strongarm Charlie, trying to get him to sign off on the caretaker’s caveat before we bought the station?’
‘He what?’ Marcus sat forward in his chair.
‘The only reason they stopped was because Bree shot one of them in the arse. Nothing beats a redhead with a temper who is very protective over her family.’ He shook his head, admiring her for that. When he shouldn’t. But Bree had no fear when it came to protecting her family.
‘ She what ?’ Marcus slammed his fists down on his desk, his voice rising as he leaned over the desk and scowled at Ryder. ‘ What sort of hillbilly, redneck outfit are you running out there?’
As Marcus ranted about the many laws they’d broken, Ryder dragged out the second bottle of bourbon from his carry bag. This one was the Limited Edition Single Barrel bottle of Jacks.
The two bottles of high-end bourbon on Marcus’s desk reminded Ryder of something Bree had said to him just yesterday while eating cupcakes: that she was open to bribery and corruption. But Marcus was different—not the corruption part, but a little gentle bribery… maybe. Still, he was someone Ryder had come to respect deeply, both as an officer of the law and as a friend.
‘I’m sorry to put you in this position, Marcus, but…’
‘Go on, spill it all, so I can really spit the dummy and start working on my ulcer.’
‘There are some old shotguns at the station, too.’ Even if Bree would give him an earful, he did promise Marcus he’d share any news.
Marcus sat back heavily in his chair, the scowl still there. ‘Let me guess, you’ve found Price’s illegal gun stash. How many?’
He shrugged, while trying to do his best to protect Bree. ‘Will anyone get into trouble if I surrender those guns?’ Bree may have asked about the need to surrender those unregistered shotguns earlier, but when it came to actually handing them over, he guessed it’d take some convincing. Knowing Bree, she’d argue her case for finders keepers instead.
Marcus glared long and hard at Ryder as he swung in his director’s chair. His eyes then flicked to the closed door, where they heard Charlie’s muffled voice from the other side.
Marcus let out a deep sigh while rubbing a rough hand over his face. ‘If you can deliver those weapons to me, anonymously, no one will get into trouble.’ He then reached out and turned the bottles around to read their labels. ‘You know my wife owns a bar.’
‘You’d be hard-pressed to find those particular brands of bourbon out here.’
‘I know.’ Marcus swivelled around in his chair and put them on the shelf behind him. ‘I talked to Finn.’
‘And?’
‘You were right. Leo works for a fairly well-known crime organisation down south. They have their finger in everything: smuggling, racketeering, you name it. Normally they stay down south, but Finn discovered that Leo is branching out, with their blessings.’
‘Which is who Leo must be supplying.’
‘I’m assuming so, which would make sense with your theory about Leo using his property as part of some money-laundering scheme, too.’ Marcus sat back in his chair, raking fingers through his hair. ‘This is big.’
‘I know.’
‘I’ll talk to my supervisor—’
‘Do you trust him?’
‘I do. Back in the day, I worked for the drug squad in Melbourne, and our biggest haul was for ten million. This…’ he said, pointing at the paperwork, ‘… this makes me, and my team, look stupid.’
‘How do you think I feel when the prick is right next door stealing my water and taking pot shots at my cousin in her plane. I will not let Leo get away with this. It’s why I’m here telling you everything, to help you catch this prick. And I intend to share any information we learn, including tape footage to use as evidence.’
‘I guess I’d better rustle up some paperwork to get around the illegal surveillance. Will we find any cameras that can be traced back to you when we make our bust?’
‘No.’
‘Good. I’ll write this information off then as an anonymous tip.’ Marcus began scribbling down some notes.
‘Will you keep me posted?’
Marcus frowned, his pen pausing. ‘You’d better keep me posted.’
‘I said I would.’
‘Good. And, once I’ve calmed down, I might come out and have a squiz at your surveillance set-up. Is it at the farmhouse?’
‘No. Bree’s made us a boardroom and a bar out there now. Said we needed to learn about work–life balance.’ Although his world didn’t feel very balanced.
‘My wife does the same for me. It’s what we agreed on when we got married, that there was more to life than work.’
It’s what Ryder had hoped for at the station, his home, which was now in danger.
‘Hey, does this new bar of yours keep the good stuff?’
‘Only the lower-shelf stuff for my brothers. But I promise to break the seal on a few bottles worth tasting should you visit.’ He owed Marcus that much.
‘It’ll take me a few days to organise things. Red tape will be slow, especially if we want to keep this as in-house as possible.’
‘Do you trust your team?’
‘Absolutely, or I would’ve transferred their arses out of here. If what you’re saying about Leo having contacts in the government is true, we’ll have to act fast once that search warrant is signed off.’
‘How long will it take to get that warrant?’
‘First, I’ll need to legitimise your surveillance, that’ll help me get a warrant. We don’t want Leo getting off on some technicality, or have him coming back at you—’
‘Leo doesn’t scare me.’
‘But he knows you have a family.’
The thought of his family in danger in his home only made his guts churn to hard concrete. ‘If Leo gets busted, what’ll happen to him?’
‘By the sheer commercial volume, I’d say a minimum of fourteen years. But he’ll lose all his assets, unless he proves he’s made a purchase with legitimate funds, like his land.’
‘There was no bill of sale for Leo’s property. He never paid any stamp duty or land tax, nothing. But he’s got his name on the property title without any mortgage to it.’ Which clearly demonstrated the level of powerful contacts Leo had within the government system.
It made Marcus frown deeper. ‘How do you know?’
‘I had my lawyers do a property search when Leo tried to take our water, which he’s now blatantly stealing from us. I’m putting a cap on this, Marcus. Two weeks, maximum. I don’t think any of us will handle the pressure longer than that without snapping.’
‘It’ll be over before Leo can harvest, I promise you that.’
‘Good.’ Fourteen years didn’t seem long enough for Leo, who was just slippery enough to escape prison time. Leo also had more than enough money to make bail and hire a private jet to skip the country.
Meanwhile Marcus had limited resources, with a small and somewhat inexperienced crew, looking after an area as big as a European country.
Ryder did not want Leo to get away with what he’d done to Bree and Charlie, and the fear he was now causing his own family. This was his home, he’d bought it specifically for his family, and he’d defend it to the death if he had to.
He followed Marcus out into the main foyer where poor Porter was being hassled by Charlie, while Bree picked over the evidence on the large table.
‘There you are,’ said Charlie. ‘Are you done, son?’
‘I am. Where to next?’
‘The morgue. We were talking about walking over, but I like riding in that beast of yours. Makes me feel all important, you know.’ Charlie grinned, wiping down his shirt as if wearing a fancy tie. ‘But I gotta ask before we skedaddle, what’s happening with that gold there, Marcus?’
‘We’ve locked it up in the evidence safe until you’re ready to do something with it,’ Marcus said, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe of his office. ‘Legally, they’re yours—but until we close the file on the case, it’s safer in our hands. You know there were two boxes of gold ore?’
Charlie’s grey eyebrows disappeared under the brim of his hat. ‘Two boxes?’
‘There was a bigger box the bodies were leaning against,’ said Porter. ‘It was a heavy sucker, too.’
Charlie scratched the back of his head, as if trying to remember. ‘I only saw the first box… That must be my brother’s nest egg he wrote about in his letter. It’s what Harry was going to use to start his new life with Penelope Price.’
‘Now it’s yours, Charlie.’
‘What will I do with it at my age? Might be a good little nest egg for the granddaughter.’ Charlie winked at Bree.
‘I’m fine, Pop. Spend it on yourself or donate it to your favourite charity.’
‘Isn’t that you, kid?’
She grinned, while angling her head at the photos spread out on the table. ‘Porter? Was there a length of elastic in the evidence you brought in from archives?’
‘Um, yeah…’ The constable rummaged through the plastic bags to find the right one. ‘Here. Don’t know why that was there. But then again, they botched the entire investigation.’
‘That’s not a nice thing to say about the police department while wearing the uniform, with your boss standing right there.’ With her phone, Bree took a photo of the elastic band, picking it up to feel it through the plastic as if trying to work out its dimensions.
What was up with that elastic band? Bree had pointed it out when they were going through the murder file only last night—although that felt like a year ago now.
‘Back then, South Australia Police ran this investigation,’ explained Porter. ‘The officer in charge of the murder case had only been on the job for a week, I feel sorry for the guy. They didn’t have the training or the tools we have today, and all this poor guy was given was a uniform, a set of keys to the station that was basically a room with a cot for him to sleep on, a police car that struggled to drive on the dirt tracks, and a phone line that kept dropping out. The poor guy had no support.’ Porter shrugged, looking around at the modern police station.
‘How do you know all that?’
‘I went through his notes, and I can read between the lines. That constable was a lot younger than me, simply ordered to take photos, bag up everything, and send it down with the body. Even if my maths isn’t the best, the measurements he made were all wrong.’
‘I agree,’ said Ryder. ‘We were working on it last night.’
‘Did you figure out anything?’ Marcus asked.
‘Only that the measurements were wrong. But at least that young officer took enough photos for us to work off the images. We’re still working on it and haven’t come to any conclusions yet.’
‘Like I am.’ Porter waved his hand over the table, filled with evidence.
‘Which reminds me…’ Bree looked up from the evidence table. ‘Pop? You said Jack Price oversaw the munitions for the station? What sort of munitions?’
After talking about the missing cases of shotguns, her question had Ryder and Marcus standing very still to listen.
‘Well, there were the usual rifles and shotties, as well as bullets and shells.’
‘Was there anything else?’
‘Gelly.’
‘What?’
‘Boom-boom sticks.’ Charlie grinned wide. ‘Gelignite.’
‘Why would you have dynamite on a cattle station?’ Porter asked.
‘Jack Price was using it for the major excavations we had going on for Starvation Dam. It was back in 1961, during the first year of that drought, and Darcie’s dad wanted the dam dug in deeper. We were all sick of using that ol’ Massey backhoe, we called the widow maker, it gave us a heck of time. That’s when Jack Price said he could blast it, and he did.’
‘So how did that put Jack Price in charge of the munitions?’ Porter asked.
‘Back then there were no gun laws, but it was the head stockman’s job to ration out the guns and ammo to deal with the wildlife and whatnot. You’d give a stash to the boundary riders, the bore runners, and even today I’m always carrying ammo in the saddle with me, just like Bree.’
‘As Elsie Creek Station’s head stockman,’ said Porter, ‘did you keep dynamite, Charlie?’
‘Me? No. We only used it for Starvation Dam. Well, Price did. Only coz he knew his weapons, kind of like you there, son.’ Charlie pointed to Ryder.
‘Can I ask what happened to Jack Price’s body?’ Bree asked.
Porter flicked through some paperwork. ‘It sat in the morgue for ages, because no one claimed him, no relatives, nothing. Which makes sense, now that we know it’s a false name. Eventually, the local stockmen chipped in to pay for his burial, and the Salvos buried him in the Katherine Cemetery in the section designated for those without means or family.’
‘Did you find any of Jack Price’s family, now you know his real name?’ Bree asked.
‘I’m trying. Jack Price—or Jake Blackwell—had a younger sister who is proving to be a challenge to track down. But for Penelope Price’s family I found one of her cousin’s daughters.’
‘What are they doing with Penelope’s remains?’ Charlie asked with sadness in his voice.
‘Well, at first, they didn’t care about the body and had no clue who Penelope was at all.’ Porter slid his hands into the pockets of his police uniform and gave a meek shrug. ‘It was only when I mentioned there may be a stack of cash to inherit that they volunteered to bury her down south.’
‘How much cash did Penelope have on her?’ Bree asked.
‘Twenty thousand, in old bills.’
‘Pop? How much was twenty grand worth back in 1962? I mean, compared to now.’
‘Well, hard to say…’ Charlie rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Back then, if Penelope had that much tucked away, they would’ve had the means to buy a decent house, for sure.’
‘A whole house, for twenty thousand dollars?’ Porter blurted out.
‘Ryder?’ Bree looked to him for some explanation.
‘Taking inflation into consideration,’ said Ryder, ‘twenty K back then would be the equivalent of over three hundred grand today.’
‘Poor Penelope. No one to grieve for her for the right reasons. It’s not right, you know.’ Charlie held his hat over his heart. ‘Do you reckon we can bury her here with Harry?’ he asked Bree.
Porter shook his head. ‘Sorry, Charlie, Penelope’s family has already signed off on it, according to the morgue.’
‘Which is where we’re heading next. Thanks for your help, Porter. Let’s go, Pop.’ Bree scooped up her large leather bag from the floor, then hooked her arm through her grandfather’s. ‘Hi, Marcus. Bye, Marcus.’
Ryder recognised that look. Bree was on a mission, and nothing was going to stop her.
‘Ryder?’ Marcus mumbled quietly, grabbing Ryder’s arm. ‘I know you promised to keep me informed, and I trust you will. But what about her?’ He nodded at the redhead, escorting Charlie to the front doors. ‘Word is Leo has a thing for Bree. And she’s never been shy to go toe-to-toe with him.’
Ryder’s jaw clenched. The ice in his veins thickened, making every muscle in his body taut. For anyone watching, Ryder would only seem calm. Icy calm, with his voice low and controlled. ‘Leo won’t get near her.’ Because he wasn’t letting her out of his sight.