‘Yeah, yeah, you wait until you see me.’
Dave grinned and flicked the blinker on and pulled to a stop in Tim’s driveway. Spencer jumped out and started doing the steps of the cha-cha in the middle of the road.
Dave had to admit, for a heavy man, he was very light on his feet. The bloke, however, looked ridiculous, but Dave wasn’t going to tell him that!
Spencer, smiling broadly, cha-cha-ed around to the driver’s side and beeped the horn, hoping to get Tim to come out from wherever he was.
He didn’t appear and Chief didn’t start barking.
‘God knows where he is,’ Spencer said, looking around, ‘but if there’s no word from Chief, Tim’s not around here.’
Dave stuck his head into the hut and called out, but there was no answer. He took a step inside and looked at the piano.
‘Gee, it’s a beauty, isn’t it?’ he said to Spencer, who’d followed him in.
‘Just because there isn’t a front door,’ Spencer said, ‘doesn’t mean we can just go in.’
Dave ran his hands over the piano and lifted the lid. ‘I know, but it really is a nice piece.’ He went to shut it again. ‘Okay, let’s go…’
An old yellowing newspaper clipping fluttered down into the dust and Dave leaned over to pick it up. There was a black and white photo at the top of a column and underneath were the words: Wanted: information on the whereabouts of Marianne Tucker. Missing since Thursday, 7 March 1945. The contact details were via the Oakamanda Pub. He reread twice, then flicked it over. In scrawly, faded handwriting he made out a dollar sign and the number three hundred.
Wordlessly, he handed it over to Spencer.
Back at the station, Dave worked overtime to get a warrant to pull Tim’s financial records. He didn’t really have enough to go on—only one statement with one withdrawal, but they’d matched it back to a deposit in Glen’s bank account. A good lawyer would argue that until the bank could confirm who had made the deposit, it was only circumstantial evidence. Dave didn’t agree. He was convinced that for some reason Tim was putting money into Glen Bartlett’s bank account. Spencer helped him embellish a little and within twenty-four hours they had the paperwork needed.
Together they walked to the bank and asked to see the manager.
‘Can we have the last six months of statements for Timothy Tucker,’ Spencer asked, putting the warrant on his desk.
Immediately the bank manager straightened. ‘What are you wanting with Tim?’ he asked. ‘He’s my best client.’
‘I’m sure he is, but we still need access to his accounts please.’ He held out the paper and the manager flicked through it before throwing it heavily on the table. ‘What’s going on?’
‘We’ll be able to tell you in time, but not now. If we could get the information stated on the warrant, please.’
It didn’t take long before they had everything they needed.
Spencer was the colour of chalk as they drove to Tim’s place.
Again the humpy was empty, but this time Chief was roaming around outside and let out a ferocious round of barking.
‘Better stay in the car,’ Spencer said. ‘I’d say if Chief is here by himself, then Tim’s at the pub.’
Tim and China were sitting next to each other at the bar of the Oakamanda Pub and Dee was behind the counter talking to them.
Glancing up, she smiled and motioned Dave and Spencer inside.
‘Come in, come in. Look, I’ve got it almost like new again,’ she said with a throaty laugh.
‘Looks great, Dee,’ Dave agreed. ‘G’day, fellas,’ he said, pulling up a stool on one side of Tim and China, while Spencer sat on the other side. ‘How’s tricks?’
Both men answered ‘Good’ and they all shook hands.
‘Everything seems to have gone very quiet,’ Dee said with a relieved look on her face. ‘No nightly visitors. It’s great.’
‘The trespassers seem to have dropped off too,’ China said.
‘Great news. Hopefully I won’t get any reports of anyone putting a gun in anyone’s face,’ Spencer said. ‘I get a bit edgy when things like that happen.’
China turned to him. ‘Has that happened recently?’
‘Hmm, I had a report from a bloke who’s been trying to buy up land around here for a mining company. Said there was some old codger who pulled a pistol on him. Neither of you know anything about that, do you?’
Dave held his surprise in check—he didn’t know anything about this report.
‘Not me,’ said China. ‘But he’s been to my joint. I just told him to fuck off. Said if he came back I’d push him into a mine shaft.’
Dave gave a mirthless chuckle. ‘I wouldn’t be saying stuff like that, China. You’ll get yourself into trouble. We’re looking for a murderer, you know.’
‘Well, I ain’t the bloke you’re looking for. Just thought it might frighten him off.’
‘It should’ve,’ Spencer agreed. ‘After all, it’s not long happened to someone.’
Tim took a pull on his beer. ‘It was me who pulled the gun,’ he said.
Spencer shifted his attention to him. ‘That right, old mate? Now what did you go doing that for? I’ve told you, ring me and I’ll come out.’
‘He’d been around three or four times and wouldn’t leave. I just encouraged him a little.’
‘Mate, you’re lucky he didn’t want to press charges. He would’ve had every right to.’
‘But he didn’t.’
Dave leaned back and looked at Spencer. They’d agreed on the way out here that Dave would take the lead—he wasn’t local and could ask questions he wouldn’t know the answer to.
‘Ever married, China?’ Dave asked.
‘What? Me? Nope. What woman’d have me? Or rather, who’d want to come and live out here?’
‘Don’t get lonely?’
‘Like me own company. Women just nag, don’t they?’
‘Oi!’ Dee flicked the tea towel, which as ever was in handy reach on her shoulder, in
