‘Damn!’ His voice was loud, causing a flutter of wings from above and a loud warning cry from a bird. Dave looked up. ‘Sorry,’ he said.
He checked under the seats, ran his fingers along the joins and even opened the spare-tyre well, to see if something had been hidden in there. It was clean too.
Finally, he turned to the outside surrounds. Carefully he looked through bushes and out past the clearing circumference, in case there were still footprints. He didn’t see any.
One part of the clearing stood out to him, but he couldn’t work out why. There was a slight mound underneath a tree, right next to the car. It looked as if someone had recently cleared away the leaves and bark in this area because the build-up was much thinner here than elsewhere. The top of the red earth was cracked slightly from being exposed—Dave thought it looked like the bottom of one of the dried-out dams on the farm—and a scorpion had made use of one of the cracks for its home. He took some photos just in case, then kept searching.
Dave was just about to head back to his car to call in the rest of the team when he saw something on the tree trunk. It looked like initials had been engraved into the wood.
Leaning in, he studied them—they were very old, and over time the tree had grown around them. He wasn’t sure if the first letter was P or R and he couldn’t make out the second letter at all.
He took photos of the initials as well—not that he thought they were related, but you could never be too careful.
Finally, gathering up the newspaper and map, he walked back to his car to call in the scene.
Chapter 28
1945
Paddy had been in Victoria for five months when he went to the post office to send a telegram to the police station and newspaper in Barrabine.
Have you found out who the woman I buried was? Stop.
Has anyone come forward since you wrote the article on the woman I buried? Stop.
He waited two weeks for a reply. The police didn’t bother to answer and the newspaper’s reply was one word. No.
Finding the woman had changed Paddy’s life and not for the better. Often when he closed his eyes to sleep he would see her body, hanging from the tree. Or in the grave, her bloated face stared up at him as he shovelled dirt on top of her. He’d told no one of the nightmares, of how she haunted him, floating around his dreams, begging him to tell her family.
Twelve months later he was married and the dreams came less often. Carmen, his wife, sometimes asked why he tossed and turned in his sleep and occasionally cried out, but he was reluctant to tell her—he didn’t want Carmen to live with the images too.
Then he found gold. Not just a small amount, a good solid discovery that would keep him and Carmen for the rest of their days.
He began to plan. He would buy the land the woman was buried on. Make sure she was safe and perhaps even mark her grave with a headstone. To the unnamed woman who lies here, I hope you’re at peace. Or: A woman who bore too much despair is buried here. She is unidentified.
It took him eight years, but finally he went into a realty office and made the enquiry. Six months later he was handed the deed to Lease 7008-0514 and called it Fractured Hill.
Fractured because he was sure her family’s life had been fractured by her death.
He placed a notice in the newspaper: Searching for the family of a woman who died in the Barrabine region. He listed the date, what had happened and his phone number, telling no one, not even Carmen, what he was doing.
Chapter 29
Dave deposited the evidence he’d gathered at the station and then checked in with Spencer. He’d handed over the GPS with the coordinates so forensics would be able to find their way out to the car and bring it back in.
‘Has the search on the bank accounts turned up anything yet?’ Dave asked Spencer after he’d finished telling him all the details of his expedition.
‘Not yet. I’ve been following a couple of other leads, but nothing has come back on them yet either, so my advice is to go home and not think about this case until Monday. It’ll probably take the blokes that long to fingerprint everything out there and get the car back in anyway. Spend the weekend with Melinda.’
‘Sounds like a great plan. We thought we might do one of the brothel tours.’
‘What, you need some ideas to spice things up already?’ Spencer gave a shout of laughter.
‘Not yet!’ Dave said, winking at him. ‘Catch you Monday.’
When he got home, Dave found Melinda curled up on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand.
‘You looked whacked,’ he said, bending down to kiss her. ‘Need a top-up?’
She shook her head and patted the spot next to her. ‘I missed you last night. Grab a beer and come and sit next to me.’
He did as he was told. ‘It’s good to be home. You’re still tired?’ he asked, already knowing the answer.
‘Mmm, I am. Feel a bit funny too, squeamish, but I think it’s because I haven’t eaten anything today. It’s been full on. I think it’s just all the emotion.’
‘What happened?’ He reached over to take her hand and waited.
He listened as she told him about Janelle and Maddie, remembering the
