‘Better get onto it. Ask the bank to trace where the three hundred dollars is coming from.’
‘Have already. It’ll take a little time.’ Dave looked at his notes. ‘Okay, going back to my conversation with the Ballarat coppers—they don’t know much about him and the mother was too shocked to give out any useful information. I’m getting the feeling he was a loner, didn’t have a lot of friends. The mother, Carmen, wasn’t aware he’d decided to sell the land, but she did say he was the executor, so she’d left it up to him. The money would then come into the estate and be given to the people it was supposed to be.’ ‘Why didn’t the father leave the land to the mother?’ asked Spencer.
‘As far as I know they didn’t ask that question, but I’ll follow it up. Thought I’d leave it a few days before I give her a call. Give her a chance to get used to the news.’
‘This is a murder enquiry, Dave. You can’t waste time!’
‘I know, but I’ve got other things to go on with—like finding the wagon.’
‘Have you got any information about the land?’
‘Nothing other than Carmen was happy for him to make decisions he wanted to…Just so long as the money ended up in all the right spots.’
‘And was one of the right spots Glen’s bank account?’
Dave looked at his notes. ‘Yes. This is an assumption, and I know as detectives we should never make assumptions, but—’ he took a deep breath ‘—from the information I’ve had from Ballarat, the parents are wealthy. Well, the mother is, since the father is dead. Made his money goldmining. But looking at the son’s bank accounts, he does have money issues. Like I told you, there isn’t much in his accounts.’
‘Ah, mummy and daddy don’t hand out the dosh easily? Wonder why he didn’t take over the finances for his mother if she’s elderly. Does he work?’
‘Doesn’t appear that he does.’
‘Well, no wonder he needs money. Alrighty then, I guess all we can do is wait until we hear back from the bank on the traces. I’m getting bloody frustrated. We keep hearing about this person Bartlett was looking for and we’ve got no idea who he is or how to find him!’ Spencer stood, hoisted up his shorts and parked his ample bum on the edge of the desk.
‘That’s going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack.’
‘Ring Ballarat back and see if they can search his house. Maybe there’ll be something there.’
‘It would be very helpful if we could find his car,’ Dave pointed out.
‘That too.’
The phone rang and Spencer picked it up. ‘Brown,’ he said.
Dave turned and went back to his desk, carrying the bundle of statements. As soon as Spencer had mentioned the person Glen was looking for, everything fell into place. Glen didn’t need to come over here to sign the sale papers, Dave was sure. He’d have to check with a lawyer or real estate agent, but he was fairly certain they could’ve been signed over a fax or the papers mailed to Victoria and signed in front of a JP.
No, the sale was a cover.
Glen Bartlett had come over here to find someone.
Dave picked up the phone and called Ballarat.
An hour later he was in his vehicle driving out towards Oakamanda and Fractured Hill. That was the last known place that Glen had been, so it seemed the best place to start looking.
He’d been to see Melinda to tell her he would be camping out tonight and tears had welled up in her eyes, taking him by surprise. He had to admit she was looking tired. A weekend of doing nothing was looking more and more appealing.
‘Don’t you worry, Mr Dave,’ Ernie had said from over the fence as he was leaving. ‘I watch out for missus, Dave.’
‘Thanks, Ernie. You’re a good neighbour.’
Spencer had helped him pack up a few camping things and sent him off with a clap on the shoulder and a good luck wish.
‘We’ve got to find the car,’ Dave had told him. ‘That’s going to hold a lot of information.’
‘Only if it hasn’t been done over by vandals,’ Spencer had replied.
‘The sooner we find it, the less likely that’s going to be.’
Now, driving along the dirt tracks, he made sure the GPS tracker was on and he looked at the map sitting on the passenger seat. He planned to follow every little track he could find.
Ten minutes later Dave pulled up where a narrow trail veered off the road. He looked at his map and worked out which track it was before nosing his way down there. He didn’t get too far before he found a large tree over the road; by the look of the track, no one had been down this way for ages. He turned around and drove out.
The next trail he came across was owned by a mine. trespassers will be prosecuted, yelled at him in large black lettering. Dave was undecided. He guessed if there was an abandoned car on the road to the mine, someone would have reported it already, but again that was making assumptions.
He put a call out over the radio, hoping to get the station.
‘Station receiving,’ came the reply.
Dave grinned and asked for Spencer.
‘Can you phone all the mines out here to see if there’s been any suspicious activity by a white four-wheel drive?’ he asked. He didn’t want to explain why, even though the channel was supposed to be secure.
‘Will get Claire and Tez onto it.’
From Spencer’s tone, he knew what Dave was thinking. Excellent.
Back on the road, Dave found three more tracks before nightfall, but none of them held any of the secrets he
