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‘A pity driving licences don’t have photos here,’ said Murray, ‘but this will do nicely, thanks.’ The sergeant looked at the small photograph. ‘Pretty girl.’ He paused before asking, ‘How tall is your wife?’
Harrison strained to look at the picture over Murray’s shoulder.
‘A little bit shorter than me,’ Alec said, holding his open hand up to his forehead, just above his eyebrows. ‘About yay high.’ He looked at the photograph and commented. ‘Her hair is shorter in that photo than now. She’s grown it so now it’s down to about her shoulders. It’s a sort of brownish blonde colour, I suppose you could say ash-blonde. She doesn’t seem to have a hairstyle, just a fringe and then sort of loose around her head. Sometimes she pulls it back into a ponytail. If she’s going out she curls the ends outwards and teases it but most of the time it is just loose. She’s got blue eyes, bluer than they look in the picture.’
‘And have you any idea as to what clothes she might have been wearing?’
‘Most of our trip she wore denim shorts and a sort of flower-patterned or plain coloured shirt with a floppy straw hat. Sometimes she wore slacks because she was worried about sunburn. Black slacks. And sunnies. I guess she’d be wearing much the same.’
‘How old was she when this picture was taken?’
‘It was just after her birthday, about mid-August last year. She turned twenty.’
‘Okay. We’ll head back to the station now, get this photo circulated around town. We’ll get the original back to you as soon as possible. Let’s go and pack some food.’ Turning to Harrison he asked, ‘How come the generator failed?’
‘It happens. No way to predict. Once it stops cha
rging, the battery goes flat pretty quick. It’s no surprise that they couldn’t get the thing going. The generator converts power from the drive-shaft to electrical energy an’ keeps the battery charged. If it goes bad you don’t notice anything ‘cause the battery has reserve power an’ keeps you going —’
‘So how long does that last?’
‘Quite a while, so long as you don’t drain the battery. But if they’re using lights while camping then the battery is being drained all the time.’
‘Have you identified why the system failed?’
‘Yeah. Looks like the brushes are in pretty poor shape, not connecting properly and —’
‘I don’t want technical details. Could it have been interfered with?’
‘No, doesn’t look like it. The belt’s old an’ loose. That probably contributed to the problem. Not enough traction on the generator to keep the charge up. I recharged the battery, but reckon we’ll have to get a new generator. But to get a new one for a Vee-Dub Kombi could take a while. It’ll have to come from Adelaide, or maybe Melbourne ‘cos we sure as hell don’t stock ‘em out here.’ He turned and looked at Alec, ‘I’m surprised you even had that kind of vehicle out bush, it’s not really built for those roads.’
Alec looked sheepishly at his feet and said nothing.
Murray broke the silence. ‘Thanks. All right then.’ He turned to Tommy who, by now, had replaced his Akubra hat and was waiting silently beside the Kombi. ‘Let’s get going and see if we can find anything at the site. If it’s okay with you, Mal, I’d like you to come along too since you can probably tell us what you saw at the site.’
Harrison mumbled, ‘I’ve got a load of work waiting so —’
‘It could be really important, Malcolm,’ advised Murray in a tone that indicated it was not a request.
Reluctantly Harrison acquiesced though Murray felt sure that the reluctance was more for show. Everyone in town knew Murray loved to be involved in gossip. This was his chance to be right in the action.
The group left the garage, climbed into the police Land Rover and drove in silence back to the station. As they approached the red brick building with its gabled porch Alec leaned forward from the back seat. ‘Hang on. Can you drop me here, please?’ He indicated the Post Office. ‘I’d better phone Katherine’s folks in Adelaide and let them know what’s happening.’
‘All right, Mr Thompson. Come on over to the station when you’re done and we can get going as soon as possible. We’ll get some supplies. Don’t be long. Just ask for me at the front desk and they’ll show you through.’ Murray’s experience led him to be fairly sure Alec was very unlikely to be directly responsible for the disappearance of his wife and could be trusted not to abscond.
In spite of this confidence, he was thinking ahead just in case Mrs Thompson and her baby were not to be found. Back at his desk he made some notes in his diary. Next to the date and time he jotted ‘ fairly confident Mrs. Thompson and baby in town, if not already, then soon. Locals probably stopped, given her a ride.’ But as he completed his diary notes he thought I’d better look into Alec’s background. Things are not always as they seem. Hindley Street Headquarters might have some info on Mr Thompson.
He picked up the phone and dialled an Adelaide number. At this stage he was treating the situation as essentially one of missing persons. If Mrs Thompson didn’t turn up by evening he would report it to the Missing Persons Unit in Adelaide and get an intensive search going locally.
A couple of hours later a subdued group headed out of Ceduna, along Highway One in the police four-wheel drive. Sergeant Murray drove, Tommy sat next to him in the passenger seat and Alec and Harrison were in the back.
‘We’ll head up Caroba Tank Road then take the rough track to intersect with the dog fence north,’ Murray explained as they left the bitumen road. ‘Then travel east along the fence until you recognise the spot where you found your Kombi.’
Already well advanced, it looked like it was going to be a very long day.
For most of the journey they travelled in silence. Apart from a few instructions by Tommy to Sergeant Murray to turn, slow or stop there was little to say. It was an unusual situation with the Aborigine politely giving instruction to the police officer but Murray recognised and greatly respected the skills of the tracker. Alec sat anxiously in the rear seat looking out of the window at the passing landscape, his eyes searching as if suddenly Katherine and Carolyn might appear.
Once on the dog fence track they travelled more slowly, less because of the condition of the road than because Tommy needed to observe the road ahead more closely. Even before they reached the landmark tree under which Alec had sought shelter on Thursday night Tommy broke the silence, commanding, ‘Stop!’
