Red Dust Page 11

  They arrived at the shed and walked up the steps. The only noise came from Bulla and his dogs out in the yards. 'Go back, Roady, get up, get up. Push 'im up.'

  'Woof, woof.'

  The flies buzzed near the ceiling, the sun shone in streaks through the windows and the tiny holes in the iron. Other than a piece of tin on the roof, banging in the breeze, the shearing shed was still. Silently Gemma and Jess looked at the shed. It was a tidy shed but all the grease from wool during the last shearing had been ground into the boards, making the floor sticky. It would need to be scrubbed and swept before the next team came in. The cobwebs needed to be swept away, no little wisps of wool lying around or scraps of rubbish in the bins. Adam had joined Flockcare, a quality assurance program, not long before he died and things had to be done to the letter if they were to keep the accreditation. Adam had assured Gemma that by joining Flockcare they would receive higher prices for their wool, but there was a lot more work involved in getting ready for shearing.

  'C'mon, townie,' said Gemma, her voice echoing loudly in the stillness. 'Get your hands dirty. I'll go and start the fire to heat up the water, you sweep.'

  'You reckon I can't do this sort of stuff anymore, don't you? Give us that.' Jess grabbed the broom Gemma was holding out and started to sweep.

  'Don't miss any corners,' Gemma shouted over her shoulder as she went outside to crank up the fire.

  'Yeah, yeah,' muttered Jess. 'Give the woman an inch and she'll take a mile.'

  The two women scrubbed the shed to within an inch of its life. Even the windows were washed – Jess's idea. 'I don't think the shearers will care, Jess. They don't usually look out of them,' Gemma had said, but Jess had done it anyway. The wool bins were looked over and any fibres of wool found clinging to the wood were removed, the board swept, and finally the water in the old forty-four-gallon drum was boiling on the fire outside. The girls carted buckets of boiling water inside and threw them onto the floor, added detergent and scrubbed. Sweat dripped off their foreheads and they had stopped talking to concentrate on the work. Jack had stuck his head in a few times to offer help, since his room in the shearers' quarters was quite close to the shed, but Gemma had waved him away. 'Have the day off and get better,' she said. 'You'll be needed next week.'

  At long last the grease had dissipated and the pine boards began to shine through. Gemma and Jess sat back on their haunches and surveyed their work.

  'Well, I reckon if the inspectors come out this shearing, we'll be right,' commented Gemma.

  'Excellent,' said Jess. 'Now I'm starving. It's way

  past lunch so do you want to finish up here and I'll go and get us something to eat?'

  'You turned into the boss or something?' mocked Gemma, her hands on her hips.

  'Nah, just hungry,' said Jess with a smile, glad that Gemma was sounding like her old self again.

  Gemma in fact had a knot in her stomach. She wasn't sure how she was going to tell Bulla, Gaz, Ned and Ben what was going on and what their reaction was going to be. She had the feeling that Bulla already suspected something after finding those wethers last week but how much, she didn't know.

  Craig Buchanan had just about had enough of sitting in the police station. Bending over timelines, maps and computers really wasn't up his street. He did love his stock squad work, but he didn't like the drudgery of the paperwork. Checking out the pubs, that was more his speed. Maybe he'd try the Jewel Bar tonight . . .

  He bent over the keyboard of the computer and typed in Bulla's name. No matches found flashed up on the screen. Craig sighed and typed in Jack Charles Marshall, DOB 19/07/70. Searching, searching. Then Match found flashed at him. Craig clicked on the details, expecting to see a drink-driving charge or speeding ticket. He found a little more than he bargained for.

  'Hey, Dave,' Craig yelled through the open doorway. 'We've got a hit. Come and look at this.'

  Dave responded quickly. 'What've you found?'

  Craig read out loud with his partner looking over his shoulder.

  'Jack Charles Marshall, jailed for six months in 2003 for stealing. He stole three steers, slaughtered them at an abattoir then sold the meat without permission of the owner. This was in . . . Queensland,' said Craig, searching the computer screen for information. 'And an aggravated assault on a woman in 2005. Hey, hey, what have we got here?'

  'Don't get too excited,' cautioned Dave. 'He's only been working at Billbinya for a short time. Still, it does throw a bit of a different light on things. Okay, let's keep that piece of information in the back of our minds. Jack will know that we'll find this out – maybe that's why he disappeared when I went to talk to him yesterday. But the other guys said he was crook and I didn't get the impression they were trying to cover for him. And,' Dave said after a moment's thought, 'I don't want to question him straightaway if he is trying to make a new start. He probably found it hard to get a new job and I don't want to jeopardise that without good reason.'

  By 4 pm Ned and Ben were heading towards Billbinya. They spoke little as they drove. Ned had been cranky all day and Ben was really beginning to lose patience with him.

  'What's the problem?' Ben had asked more than once. 'Nothing,' had been the curt reply. Ben knew he must be worried about Gemma, so he didn't push it. 'So tell me what you've heard about the stock stealing?' he asked, stretching out in his seat.

  At first Ned didn't answer, and Ben thought he was ignoring the question. Then the older man said, 'I heard about some stock going missing about two or so years ago. Somewhere up near Dawns Rest. Think the first people I heard it from were the Tunnleys. They had a thousand and fifty pregnant ewes ready to sell. The vet had preg-scanned them, so they were fairly sure that the count was right. The day I was going to take a buyer out to see the sheep old Clem rang me in a big panic, saying he was missing some sheep. I didn't think much of it. His fences are basically stuffed so I suggested they may have got through the fence. "Not my sheep," he said. So I told him to get them into the yards and I'd count 'em when I got there. Sure enough, he was three hundred and fifty down. I still didn't really think that they had been stolen; I mean Clem probably didn't muster his paddock properly. His place is pretty hilly with quite a lot of tree gullies. We sold the sheep to the buyer I took out there and that was it. Didn't hear anything more about it. Next thing I heard was that someone else had lost some steers. About twenty-odd from memory. Then I started to wonder what was going on. So there were a lot of rumours and gossip flying around. Everyone keen to make the story better than the one they had heard yesterday, if you know what I mean.'

  Ben nodded.

  'Then a few people heard Sinny sounding off down the pub, big-noting himself about some scheme he had – he always liked a drink and it made him talk a lot. Anyway, someone must have put two and two together and got five. My guess is that's how it all got started. A few months later Adam was killed and here we are. Now, whether Adam actually had anything to do with it, I don't know. I'd reckon not. He was basically a trustworthy sort of fella. Good bloke. The stock squad are gonna hear all this too and my worry is that they might target Gemma as a suspect. Dunno what might happen, but I reckon we're gonna have some exciting times around here in the next few weeks.'

  'So there's a lot of circumstantial evidence but not much proof, that right?' Ben asked as they turned into the driveway at Billbinya.

  'That's about it.'

  As they pulled up at the sheds Gemma came out of the shearing shed loaded up with buckets and brooms. She had dirt smeared over her cheeks and her hair had escaped her ponytail, but Ben thought she looked a treat. He had to keep reminding himself that this woman was a client and he shouldn't even think about her, but it was hard.

  Smiling, she waved a hello and walked towards the house to drop off her things.

  'C'mon, Jess, it's time,' she yelled.

  Ned and Ben got out of the car and walked towards the sheep yards where Garry had now joined Bulla. The sheep had been drafted and were milling around.
<
br />   'Howdy,' Bulla greeted them.

  'G'day. Where's Jack?'

  'Crook.'

  The guys leaned against the railings without talking. Gemma and Jess walked over.

  'Guys, you all know Jess?' began Gemma. The men nodded to her, and Ben flashed her a smile.

  'So, here we are . . .' Gemma fumbled for words. 'I really don't know how to start this. I had a visit from the stock squad yesterday.'

  Gemma looked at the expectant faces. These people were her friends; people she could rely on and trust.

  'Seems that there are some rumours and pieces of evidence pointing towards Adam being involved in some stock stealing. Dave from the stock squad is pretty keen to get to the bottom of it. I have told him everything I know, which isn't much. Whatever happens, I'm not involved – but you guys would know that. Ned,' Ned looked up, 'one of the strange things about all of this is that Bulla found some sheep that weren't ours in one of our paddocks. There were about a thousand of them and they were wethers.'

  Ned nodded but said nothing.

  'They may have been the ones that were stolen although why or how they got there I don't know. But I think the stock squad is going to base their investigation around here because of those sheep. Did you notice anything strange when we were counting the stock?'

  'I can't remember, Gemma. I know I was worried about the feedlot cattle numbers and the contract that Adam signed but I can't remember much about the sheep. I know you said some of the numbers were up after I counted them for you, but I didn't notice any odd earmarks – but then, I was counting, not looking for anything different, so I may have missed it.'

  Ned's admission surprised Gemma. He was a very astute stock agent and if there was an animal that wasn't hers, she'd have thought he would have noticed. No wonder the poor bloke needed a holiday.

  'Gemma, do you think Adam was involved?' Bulla asked.

  'If you'd asked me last night I'd have said no, but – I've found a mobile phone that suggests otherwise. I want to think about it for a bit longer before I say anything else, though. But whatever happens, I want to get to the bottom of it. I don't like that those sheep were dumped here.'

  They were all quiet for a while, processing what had been said.

  'Anyway,' said Gemma, starting to move, 'I'm taking the weekend off. Jess and I are heading into town for a girls' weekend and we're off out to dinner tomorrow night with some friends.' Gemma looked at Ben as she said this and he couldn't help but smile at her.

  'I just really wanted you all to hear it from the horse's mouth. You're all my friends as well as the people I work with. I don't want any of this to rub off on you lot, so you need to know what's happening.'

  'Well, shit, Gemma,' said Ned emotionally. 'How can we help?'

  'I don't think you can at the moment. It's just a waiting game. Let's hope that there isn't any more stock on Billbinya that isn't ours.'

  'And that no more arrives without you knowing,' added Jess as an afterthought.

  As Ned and Ben headed towards the car, Gemma said to Bulla and Garry, 'I haven't had a chance to get out to the steers today. Can you get out there sometime over the weekend and have a look at how much feed is in that paddock?'

  'Yep, no worries,' said Bulla. 'We'll probably head into Dawns Rest over the weekend and get a few supplies and have a feed at the pub, but we'll be here. I'll put these sheep in the holding paddock so they're quick and easy to get in on Monday for shearing Tuesday.'

  'Thanks, guys. Well, I'll see you Monday then.'

  Chapter 16

  Crouched under the window in the shearing shed, Jack waited anxiously for the group to disperse. He needed to ring the boss urgently. At last everyone went their separate ways. Racing down the steps of the shed, he ran to his room and dialled the number.

  'It's me,' he said, lighting a cigarette.

  'What's up?'

  'The widow knows for sure that Sinny was involved. I heard 'er tellin' all the other blokes she found 'is mobile phone. I'm reckoning there must've still been messages on it.'

  'Shit. No, hang on, that won't matter. Those phones were pre-paid. Untraceable. When's she leaving for town?'

  'Tonight, I think.'

  'Okay, get into the house tonight as soon as she's gone and see if you can find that phone. Get rid of it if you can. The truck-load of steers will take place tomorrow night as planned. This will really set her up. Gonna put them in the same paddock as the rest of their steers?'

  'Yeah, but there's a chance they'll get found pretty quick 'cos Gemma is worried about the feed out in that paddock and Bulla's gonna check on it sometime this weekend. It might be all right, though. I reckon Bulla will go out tomorrow and check those steers and then they'll head to Dawns Rest to the pub. So maybe they won't be found for a while.'

  'Okay, we'll just have to risk it. I'll come out with the truck tomorrow night. See what you can find in the house tonight, and we can have another go together tomorrow.'

  'Aren't ya busy tomorrow night?'

  'Not anymore. I'm searching a house with you. Seeya tomorrow.'

  When Jack had signed off, his boss hung up his phone and dialled the same number as he had earlier in the day.

  'You shouldn't be ringing,' came down the phone in lieu of hello.

  'She knows he was involved. We think they found his mobile with the messages on it.'

  'What sort of a useless bastard is that half-brother of yours? He's supposed to be finding any evidence left behind.'

  'I don't think he's had much of a chance. She's around all the time.'

  'Fix it.' The phone went dead.

  'C'mon,' yelled Jess excitedly. 'Hurry up. You haven't even packed your bag yet. Let's hit town!'

  Gemma threw some clothes in a bag and pulled the door to the Billbinya homestead shut.

  'Hey, I've just remembered. I had a phone call from Paige Nicholls a couple of days ago. Do you want to try and catch up with her over the weekend?'

  Jess stopped and gave Gemma a careful look. 'I'm not sure. Do you?'

  'I think we should make an effort. It's been a long time since the accident.'

  'Let's think about it a bit more first. Hey, grab those files with the accounts in them. I might get time to have a look at them. What about we take a vehicle each,' Jess said. 'If you're right to come home by yourself I might stay in town on Monday and check in at work then come out Monday night or Tuesday morning.'

  'You just want an extra night in town to be with lover boy!' Gemma teased. Her mood had improved since she'd told everyone what she'd found out. She could feel their support, and the weight was beginning to lift from her shoulders.

  * * *

  Jack watched the two vehicles crunch down the driveway then ambled over towards the homestead. The dogs gave a warning growl but, knowing that Gemma was safely out of the way and there was a good chance that Bulla and Garry were already on their way to the pub, he didn't stop. He pulled open the screen door and pushed hard on the heavy wooden door that, like all good farm doors, was unlocked. Turning lights on as he went, he systematically walked from room to room, looking for potential hiding places. He searched the wood box next to the fire, the TV cabinet where all the videos and DVDs were kept. He ran his fingers along the top ledge of the shelves in the walk-in robes in the spare rooms and felt under the mattresses. Nothing. He couldn't find anything to indicate an attic and no stairs to point to a cellar, which was slightly unusual in a house this old. He looked for signs that the carpet had been lifted and that a trapdoor might be hidden beneath it, but he couldn't see any indication of one.

  Jack really doubted that Adam would have been stupid enough to bring any information into the house. Admittedly, there was the phone that had been found, but he couldn't see any information on payments being anywhere near here. He hadn't found the phone itself yet, but he wasn't too worried. There was always tomorrow night.

  As he walked, a thought struck him. What had happened to the plane since the accident? He wondered if
Adam would have kept any papers in there since he'd have been the only one flying it. Then he discarded the idea. The plane would have been gone over with a fine-tooth comb, since the investigators would have been looking for a reason for the crash. But still, it may be worth mentioning to his brother.

  Jack came to the office and had a quick riffle through the filing cabinets and cupboards but nothing jumped out at him. He found where the bank statements were kept and had a cursory glance over the last year. There wasn't anything there he could see that could cause any problems.