pressurised. The cargo area is bare metal and there are no seats. It’ll have been truly horrible to travel in. No wonder the passengers were ill. If the child was the pilot’s son or daughter…’
‘He’d have given the kid the passenger seat.’ Alistair nodded. ‘Yeah. I see that.’
‘Or if anyone in the back was a friend he’d have had that seat. It’s a Rolls-Royce ride compared to the one they got. Yet the magazines got the ride and no one else. It screams to me that our pilot was transporting people for money. That plane won’t be licensed to carry any more passengers than one. The guy’s an idiot. He’s importing heroin in his stomach. He’s transporting passengers. In these conditions there’s no way these are pleasure flights. I’m guessing these passengers are in some sort of trouble. Major trouble.’
‘Like what?’
‘Who knows? Given that they’ve run, I’d guess there might well be criminal convictions. Barry might be right. I need to make a few phone calls-get enquiries underway. But as there’s a child involved…’ Her voice died.
‘What?’
‘I’m thinking that because of how far north you are,’ she said slowly, ‘and because of the fact that the plane flew north from Cairns, maybe landed and then headed west to this side of Cape York, maybe what we have here is a case of people-smuggling.’
‘Illegal immigrants?’
‘It makes more sense than anything else I can think of. Maybe they’ve been landed on the coast somewhere on the eastern side of Cape York by a charter boat, with the arrangement that our pilot will pick them up and take them somewhere they can be processed with false passports and the like. Somewhere really remote. Somewhere near here. How much fuel did the plane have left?’
‘The mail run pilot said there was only enough for another half-hour in the air.’
‘But most pilots verge on the safe side of caution,’ she said, thinking out loud. ‘Half an hour… You know, if I was a pilot in such rough country as this I’d leave plenty of margin for error. Say even twenty minutes’ flight time. If there are cattle over the airstrip and they have to be cleared…well, anything could happen to delay landing. He’s not coming to some place where a clear run can be guaranteed.’
‘So what are you saying?’
‘That we need to look at places close to here. Really close. Is there somewhere I can get a list of property owners?’
‘Why?’
‘I’m thinking…’ She frowned. ‘I’m thinking people who are involved in something as major as people-smuggling don’t usually have clean criminal records. I know it’s a longshot, but if you had a list of outlying property owners, or people who are renting or leasing, I could get a fast police check. Just to see if anything comes up.’
She trudged on. Alistair walked silently behind. She was conscious that his eyes were on her. She was being appraised. And found wanting?
Maybe not.
‘I can help with that,’ he said at last. ‘I know that there are ethical issues involved, but as we’re talking about people’s lives, I think I can square it with my conscience. We don’t have a pharmacy in Dolphin Cove. Pharmacy supplies are issued through the hospital. Through me. That means everyone who uses this town as a shopping base is registered here. I have a list of everyone who’s had so much as a tetanus shot in the last twelve months. More, we register our users on our computer as local or remote. If they’re remote we can issue people double or more supplies of prescription medication so they don’t need to make the trip into town so often. I can run you off an alphabetical list of all adults categorised as remote in the region. Will that do?’
‘Just like that?’ she said, startled, and he smiled.
‘Just like that. If you’re sure…’
‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not sure in the least. But it makes sense. Our pilot’s just been to Thailand, so he may well have been contracted there to do the pick-ups once our visitors reached Australia. While he was in Thailand they must have been already on their way by boat. They must have come by boat. Bringing people in illegally by plane is almost impossible-our border defence will pick them up. But landing people by boat on a remote beach is easier. Internal flights aren’t monitored, so maybe they’ll be put off the boat somewhere north of Cairns. Meanwhile our pilot comes home to Australia to pick them up. He flies as a normal passenger on a commercial airline, but on the way he decides to make a profit on the side. He swallows the condoms. Once in Australia he hires his small plane, flies north to collect his passengers, brings them almost to their destination-and then he dies. Which means out there in the bush we have a group of terrified illegal immigrants, at least one of whom is a child. They won’t come near any searchers. They’ll have invested too much in getting to this country. And they won’t know how savage this country can be.’
‘You’re basing a lot on supposition.’
‘I am,’ she agreed. ‘If there’d been any major crime in the last few days and we had fugitives on the run I’d say that’d be a better explanation. But there’s been nothing. This is the only scenario that fits with him flying north of Cairns before he came here.’
‘If you’re right,’ Alistair said slowly, ‘they’ll know nothing. There’s crocodiles in the freshwater streams and in the mangrove swamps. There are snakes-’
‘And there’s infection.’ Sarah bit her lip and quickened her pace. ‘We need to move fast. I don’t see Barry as having the push to get people up here to help, but I’ll sure as heck try. You’re going back to town to turn into being the Dolphin Cove doctor for the day. I’m going back to turn into a force to be reckoned with. I’ll have a major search and rescue unit up here, forensic scientists-the lot.’
‘But if they still hide…’
‘They’ll come out,’ Sarah said. ‘They must. Please.’
They split when they reached the town. The tension between them had dissipated in the face of urgent professional need.
Alistair made arrangements for Sarah to have use of phones, faxes and radio; he helped her e-mail his list of the remote population to headquarters, so it could be matched against criminal files; he organised the mail run to come earlier-Sarah wanted samples to be taken fast to Cairns for urgent analysis, as DNA matching could give her more information-and then he left her to it.
Sarah-with Flotsam settled happily at her feet-sat on the phone for an hour. And another hour. Finally she rose and ran a hand wearily through her hair. She’d done all she could. Nothing was possible today. It would take a day to get all the resources she needed up here. It would take another few hours to do the cross-matching with population and criminal files. But at least things were in train.
But she was so frustrated.
What else could she do?
She walked out onto the veranda and stood looking up into the hills. If she was right, somewhere out there was a group of desperately injured, desperately frightened people. How on earth could she make them ask for help?
Barry wouldn’t find them. They wouldn’t let him.
She was going nuts. There had to be something she could do.
Walk the dog? Swim?
A swim sounded good, but she wasn’t too sure about the beach. It looked deserted, and in her experience deserted beaches were usually deserted for a reason. It was May-too late for the worst of the nasties inhabiting tropical waters. She knew enough about box jellyfish and the like to afford them the respect they were due. She’d have to ask someone before she tried swimming.
She’d just wander over to the hospital.
She showered and changed-made the transformation from scratched and filthy bushwalker into something that might approximate a doctor, donning a fresh skirt, blouse and sandals-and made her way around to the hospital entrance.
She walked in and stopped in astonishment. There were maybe twenty people lined up on seats around the waiting area.
Good grief!
Claire was bustling past, carrying a specimen jar, and Sarah stopped her. ‘What’s going on? Trouble?’
Claire shook her head. ‘Nope. Normal. Doc’s been out of town all morning, and he’s been called out again now
