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  ‘That’s all sounding good, other than the photos bit,’ laughed Luke. ‘Pip, I’ll see you at midday, darling,’ he said, playing along.

  Chapter 52

  Jen asked if she could watch TV and Ange agreed, still enjoying the afterglow of having her back safe and sound. After a night of much-needed sleep they all felt much better. Jack and Ange adjourned to the kitchen where he took his opportunity. ‘Ange, I know this might sound silly to you but I think I have to go back to Dawson and finish what I started.’

  She turned around violently, glaring at him. ‘Are you freaking mad? Some monsters took our little girl and through some miracle we got her back alive. Now you want to invite them to do it again?’

  They were staring at one another to see who would back down first and then both heard a car door slam. Looking toward the street they saw Richard clambering out of a taxi and extracting his bag from the boot. When he’d first heard Ange was to re-marry, Jack was happy for her; but ambivalent about Jennifer having another father figure in her daily life. He also had that unkind thought about why do men christened Richard never call themselves ‘Dick’. Once he’d met Richard, Jack was more comfortable about him being Jen’s second daddy. He was a tall, skinny guy who always looked like he needed a shave. He had a mop of curly hair and always seemed to be smiling. Richard was an executive with some advertising company.

  They could both see Richard scurrying up the driveway. Ange turned to Jack and said in ominous tones. ‘We’ll finish this later.’ Jack stayed there momentarily and heard the front door open and Richard rush in. ‘How is she?’ he asked, anxious.

  ‘She’s ok, darling’ Jack heard Ange say.

  ‘Oh, thank God,’ replied Richard.

  Just then Jen rushed in from the television room and Jack emerged from the kitchen. Jen squealed with delight. ‘Mummy, look, I’ve got both my daddies here.’ The adults all looked at one another and smiled, sharing the same moment of amusement and relief.

  Breaking their reverie, Richard hugged Ange. ‘Sorry I couldn’t be here sooner, babe. Flights were delayed due to some weather problems.’ He untangled himself from Ange and proffered his hand to Jack. ‘How are you going, Jack? How’d you bust the arm?’

  ‘Long story, Richard. I’m ok now,’ he replied, not wanting to give too much detail in front of Jen.

  Ange turned to Jen. ‘Darling, do you want to go watch some more TV? We’ve got some big-people things to discuss.’

  Jen rolled her eyes and turned about-face in mock annoyance. ‘If I have to,’ she smirked back at them as she left the room.

  The adults went into the kitchen where Ange filled the kettle and put it on the gas stove to boil. As she reached for some coffee mugs she looked across at Richard. ‘As you were getting here Jack was just saying he wants to go back chasing this story—the one that lead to Jen’s abduction. I was telling him my thoughts on that matter,’ she emphasised.

  Richard read Ange’s ‘code’ and turned to Jack. ‘That seems like a high-risk thing to do. I guess your arm injury had something to do with this too?’ he asked.

  ‘We think so. Maybe I need to give you guys the full story—Ange and I have been so anxious about getting Jen back we haven’t really discussed the whole sordid mess in detail.’

  Over coffee, Jack gave them a précis of what had happened since he went to Dawson expecting to write a human interest story with maybe a hint of corruption or government ineptitude to liven it up. As he explained, ‘This is a big story, with good guys and bad guys and the stakes are very high—as the abduction of Jen has demonstrated.’

  ‘Help me here, Jack. Why are the stakes so high? Why would a big supermarket chain get involved in something like this?’ asked Richard.

  ‘For the long term it all comes down to competitive advantage and securing your supply chain. Water is set to become both more scarce and more expensive so they’re protecting their business interests. Not all of what’s going on out there right now in terms of stealing water is of their doing—they’re just part of a Wild West type culture that says if you can get away with it, why not? The law-abiding ones are the ones getting screwed,’ said Jack passionately. He continued on, explaining about the buying-up of deceased estates and also about the high suicide rate of farmers going to the wall that no-one in the big cities was hearing about.

  ‘Now that I’ve heard the full story, all I can say is that it’s very noble of you to want to help these people. I think it’s great that you’ve got your fire back, your thirst for exposing the truth, but I can’t put Jen at any further risk—I simply couldn’t take it. The last two days have been absolute hell. You must feel that way too?’ said Ange, more calm now.

  ‘Yes; of course I do, Ange, and I wouldn’t even think about going back there to help unless we can put you guys somewhere safe; somewhere they can’t find you,’ said Jack.

  Richard and Ange exchanged glances. ‘I’m just not sure I’m that brave,’ she said, looking deep into his eyes.

  ‘I know it’s a tough decision. I can leave you two to discuss it without me here, if you like,’ offered Jack.

  ‘No, she’s our daughter so we three need to make this call together,’ said Ange.

  ‘If we do this it’s probably best to take off for a week or two, hey Jack?’ asked Richard.

  ‘I’d hope this will all be sorted out inside two weeks, yes,’ said Jack.

  ‘And it’s probably best not to go stay with relatives—if they come looking for us again they seem to have the resources to find family members,’ said Ange.

  They all thought about options before Richard said, ‘There’s a bloke at work who has a holiday place up on the Murray River near Mildura. I could ask him if it’s available. That would be impossible for them to track down, I’d think. That way there’s no flights. We just jump in the car and go. It’s about a six hour drive from here.’

  ‘Sounds perfect, if you can swing it,’ said Jack.

  Ange nodded slowly. ‘I suppose a week or two by the river might be good for us.’

  ‘Let me call him and see if it’s available, yes?’ he queried, looking at Ange.

  Ange nodded again. ‘I hope this is a smart thing to do, for both you and us, Jack.’

  Ange and Jack sat in silence—they could hear Richard in the other room on the phone, with muffled expressions, like ‘yes’, ‘oh great’—so it was no surprise when he returned to tell them that the place was vacant and that they could take it from tomorrow, and for as long as they wanted it.

  ‘So, decision time,’ said Jack.

  ‘I hope we don’t live to regret it, but ok; we’ll disappear and you go get your bad guys,’ said Ange, smiling weakly.

  Chapter 53

  From her office, Pip saw the Sydney flight begin its approach to Dawson airport and she jumped into her once-white Toyota HiLux and drove the short distance to the passenger terminal. This was Luke’s flight and she was a little apprehensive meeting someone she’d not met before with the expectation that, to quote Sharon, “they should put on a show” to convince the locals they were old lovers.

  As the passengers disembarked she saw a tall, dark-haired, well-built guy emerge from the door of the plane. There was a bit of Hugh Jackman about him. Hmm, she thought, Sharon was right—more than a bit cute.

  Luke sauntered into the terminal and Pip made eye contact, and headed toward him. ‘G’day, Luke, how’s it going,’ she said.

  Luke smiled and then surprised her with an affectionate kiss flush on the lips. ‘Hey, Pip, great to see you,’ he said loudly, wrapping his arms around her.

  Pip whispered, ‘I think they got the message, you can let me go now.’

  ‘No worries, sweetheart. Let’s get my bag and then we can go back to your place,’ he said, again loud enough for the dozen or so other passengers to hear.

  They moved over into the corner, waiting for the bags to be unloaded. ‘I think the whole town will know within the hour that I’ve got a good-looking friend come t
o stay,’ she said, then blushed as she realised what she’d said.

  ‘Thanks for the compliment, but you need to know I’m happily married with one child and another on the way. Didn’t Sharon tell you?’ he replied, more quietly now and only serving to accentuate her embarrassment further.

  ‘No, she might have forgotten to mention that little piece of information.’ She smiled, thinking to herself, I’ll kill her.

  They saw the trolley with the bags being pushed into the open carport on the side of the terminal; and the other passengers—knowing the routine—moved out through the main doors to collect their bags.

  Luke placed his bag carefully on the rear seat of the king cab of Pip’s Toyota, explaining, ‘I’ve got my handgun in there. Had to declare it in Sydney. I was allowed to leave it in my bag in the hold.’

  ‘Hopefully you won’t be needing it,’ said Pip.

  ‘Wouldn’t be so sure, given the stuff that’s been happening up here,’ he replied. ‘How are you guys holding up?’

  ‘We’re a bit shaky, to be honest; especially after the kidnapping,’ said Pip.

  Luke was still unhappy he wasn’t advised sooner about Jen’s abduction. ‘You should have come to me,’ he said angrily. ‘I hate it when people think we can’t help resolve these issues just because the bad guys say “no cops”. We’re trained to handle such situations.’

  He gazed out the window for a few minutes trying to regain some composure. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t blow up at you. I know it wasn’t your call. I’m just glad they got Jen back. What it does tell us is that this thing is building and they saw Jack as the lynchpin so it’s probably for the best that he’s not coming back.’

  ‘Ok, Luke, what’s your first move going to be?’ asked Pip, trying to focus them away from the subject of Jack.

  As they were pulling out of the airport road into town Luke suddenly said, ‘Can you turn around without making it look too obvious?’

  ‘Why?’ she asked.

  ‘Does that ute we just passed look at all familiar to you?’ he replied.

  Pip looked intently in the mirror. ‘Oh my God,’ she said with rising excitement. ‘It could be the one Jack got the photos of. Same colour and looks just as old and beaten up.’

  The road took a bend and Pip did a u-turn and followed the ute. ‘Just get close enough for me to get the number plate and then back off a bit,’ he said reaching over to the back seat for his bag. He rifled through the side pockets, produced a folder and started leafing through it; producing some A4 size photos.

  Pip had gained on the ute. They could see two passengers, one with his arm resting on the window ledge. Luke said, ‘Ok, got it,’ looking down at the photos. ‘Yes, that’s it alright. Now we’re making some progress.’

  ‘What now?’ asked Pip.

  ‘Just stay back and we’ll follow for a while to see where they go. I can’t stop him based on what we have so far. It would help to know where they’re going, though.’

  After about ten minutes the ute indicated, then turned off; proceeding through an ostentatious brick entry gate, over a grid and down a tree-lined white gravel driveway. The sign on the brick entry wall read ‘GrowOz—taking care of country communities’.

  Pip and Luke looked at one another, both seeing the irony. ‘Hmm, now we really are starting to connect the dots,’ said Luke.

  Pip travelled a kilometre or so past the entrance before turning back to Dawson.

  Chapter 54

  Around lunchtime Vinnie started doing the rounds of the local pubs, looking for Wellsmore’s other social-drinking mates. His golfing mates clearly didn’t know where Wellsmore was so maybe it was time to spread the net further, he thought. The public bar of the Terminus Hotel was the base camp for the Dawson Fishing Club and Vinnie wondered if Wellsmore might be known to these guys.

  He bought a schooner and sat at the bar, chatting to the barman; casually dropping into the conversation how he was keen to catch up with Pete Wellsmore. A few bar stools along, a drinker pricked up his ears as he enjoyed his counter lunch of chicken schnitzel and chips. He was obviously a tradie with his blue ‘wife beater’ singlet and hi-vis socks, sunburnt face and tattered work shorts.

  ‘Haven’t seen Pete in here for over a week, mate,’ he said. ‘They say he’s on indefinite sick leave—got cancer—but one of the boys was fishing down near Tindle’s shack on the weekend and saw that someone was staying there. He reckons it was Pete’s car. Couldn’t be sure—it was getting on to dark and all, he said.’

  Vinnie moved down to the stool next to the talkative tradie and asked, ‘How would I find that place, I’ve got some good news I have to share with old Pete,’ he said.

  Pleased to be of help, the tradie gave Vinnie directions to Tindle’s shack. Vinnie thanked him, downed his beer and was gone. As he walked out of the bar he was reaching for his phone.

  ‘Billy, got a job for you two,’ he said. Vinnie explained where Wellsmore might be hiding out and what needed to happen.

  ‘Wellsmore likes a drink so I’d suggest you wait ’till he’s got a skin-full and then let nature take its course down at the river, if you get my drift,’ said Vinnie.

  ‘Scaring a bloke off is one thing, Vinnie. Topping some fella is a big step up, mate,’ complained Billy.

  ‘Let me put it another way, Billy my friend. If you and that dumb arse side-kick of yours don’t have the balls for this, I’ll get someone who does. If I do, that will make you two additional loose ends we might just have to do something about. You understand me?’ Vinnie threatened.

  ‘Christ, you don’t have to be like that. We’ll get the job done—it’s just a bit risky, that’s all,’ said Billy.

  ‘Where’s the risk? He’s out in the middle of fucking nowhere. You could take him out in broad daylight and no-one would see you. Just do it, alright.’

  Chapter 55

  In Sydney, Mark Samuels was now officially on the case after Luke’s Commander called the Assistant Commissioner in ICAC. As he and Luke had discussed before the detective left for Dawson; Mark went to see the head of the Department of Water Resources, Des Drummond, unannounced; wanting to catch him off guard.

  He made his way into the foyer of the Department and asked the security guard to put him through to Mr Drummond’s PA. An officious-sounding woman—obviously not having a good day—answered and he asked if it would be possible for him to see Drummond.

  ‘And for what purpose would you need to see Mr Drummond, sir,’ she asked, surly. ‘He’s very busy—I’m sure someone else could handle your enquiry.’

  ‘No, in fact only Mr Drummond can help me and it is very important I see him as soon as possible,’ said Mark, matching her surliness.

  ‘I’ll check with him for you, sir. Can I say to what this matter relates?’

  ‘Tell him it’s in relation to Peter Wellsmore,’ he said, knowing he’d get an audience.

  A few moments later she was back on the line. ‘Yes, Mr Drummond has moved some appointments and found time in his busy diary. I’ll be right there to get you signed through security,’ she said. I’ll bet he’s found some time in his diary, Mark smiled to himself.

  A few minutes elapsed before Mark saw a portly woman—in her late forties he guessed—emerge from the gleaming elevator which was lined with mirrors and polished timber. She waddled over to him. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get your name, sir?’ The voice matched the person, he thought unkindly. He saw on her security tag that her name was Trudy.

  ‘It’s Mark Samuels.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘And where shall I say you’re from?’

  ‘Let’s just say I work to support the Government,’ he replied cryptically.

  She frowned, not impressed.

  Trudy gave him his clip-on pass and they walked through the sliding glass security doors to the elevator. She pressed the button to ascend to the 14th floor. There Mark was greeted with opulent surroundings. The Executive suite was expansive and dotted with potted palms,
the walls plastered with awards for this and that. Mark compared it to the tiny, well-worn offices he and his workmates occupied.

  Emerging from down the corridor was, he assumed, Des Drummond; a look of abject fear on his face. He shuffled forward and extended his hand to Mark. ‘Now, Mr…’

  ‘Samuels,’ Mark offered before Drummond continued.

  ‘What’s so urgent in relation to Peter Wellsmore that it requires such an impromptu meeting? He’s ok, I hope?’

  ‘Yes, I believe so. Can we go somewhere more private?’ he asked, sensing the interest of the inquisitive Trudy behind him.

  ‘Of course, this way,’ said Drummond, turning and shuffling back down to his office.

  On entering Drummond’s office, Mark was impressed with the view through the floor to ceiling glass. He could see Circular Quay with the ferries coming and going and the hotel they called ‘the toaster’ sitting behind the Opera House. I’m in the wrong job, Mark thought.

  ‘So, Mr Samuels, wasn’t it? Tell me more. Who do you work for, for starters?’ Drummond asked.

  Mark and Luke had discussed this moment before he left. Would he stay mysterious and not identify who he worked for, or simply frighten the shit out of Drummond by telling him. They’d decided on the latter to see how he reacted and who or what it might flush out.

  ‘I’m with ICAC,’ he said, then paused to let the verbal bombshell explode. If there was one organisation bureaucrats didn’t want fronting up to their offices it was the ICAC. They had amazing powers to investigate anything with a hint of corruption in the public sector.

  Drummond hesitated momentarily then proceeded. ‘ICAC. What on earth would you possibly need to see me about that involves Peter Wellsmore?’ Mark noted the telltale lifting of feet indicating Drummond’s discomfort.