The Lost Man(7)

‘Tomorrow?’

‘He’s only got one pair of hands, mate.’

‘Shit.’ It was true, Sergeant Glenn McKenna single-handedly policed an area the size of Victoria. Sometimes he was nearby, sometimes he wasn’t, but at least he knew the lie of the land. Nathan eyeballed the new cop. He was already sunburned and looked barely older than Xander. ‘Where’ve they flown you in from?’

‘St Helens. This morning. Sergeant Ludlow.’

‘You do your training up there?’

‘No.’ Ludlow hesitated. ‘Brisbane.’

‘Christ. The city?’ Nathan knew he was being rude but he didn’t care. ‘How long’ve you been at St Helens for?’

‘A month.’

‘Great.’ Nathan heard even Bub sigh this time. He looked at Steve, who was unpacking his medical kit. ‘Maybe we should wait for Glenn to get back.’

‘You can wait out here as long as you like, fellas,’ Steve said, not unkindly, ‘but Sergeant Ludlow and I are dealing with this now.’

Nathan met Bub’s eye. No reaction. ‘Yeah, all right,’ he said. ‘Sorry, mate, it’s not you, it’s –’

‘I understand,’ Ludlow said. ‘I’m afraid it was me or nothing.’

There was an awkward silence as the choice was considered.

‘But I’ll obviously do my very best for your brother,’ he added.

Nathan suddenly felt like a bit of an arsehole. ‘Yeah. Right. Thanks for coming all the way out.’ Nathan saw a hint of relief in the guy’s face and felt even worse. He introduced them all properly, then waited while the cop extracted a camera from his bag.

‘I’m going to . . .’ Ludlow pointed at his lens and at the grave and they all stood back while he prowled around, taking shots of the tarp and surroundings from every angle. Finally, after his knees and shirt were covered in dust, he stood up.

‘All yours,’ he said to the nurse.

Steve knelt by the grave and folded the edge of the tarp back in such a way that Nathan couldn’t see underneath. He felt a flash of gratitude. Bub wandered away, leaning on the shady side of his car and looking at the ground, while the sergeant squinted at his digital photos.

Nathan and Xander stood a short distance apart and watched the nurse work. Cam wouldn’t have been too happy, Nathan caught himself thinking. Cameron and Steve Fitzgerald had never quite seen eye to eye. As though his ears were burning, Steve looked up at Nathan.

‘How are you going these days, mate?’

‘Okay.’

‘Yeah? Things all right? Other than this, obviously.’ Steve’s voice was friendly but his tone had a professional note. A question, not a pleasantry.

‘I’m fine. It’s Bub who was here all night.’

‘I know. Just haven’t seen you in a while.’ Still not a pleasantry. ‘You missed the appointment I made at the clinic.’

‘I called.’

‘Point was for you to come in, though.’

‘Sorry.’ Nathan shrugged. ‘Been busy.’

‘But, you’re good?’

‘Yes. I said.’ Nathan gave Steve a look. Not in front of the kid. It was too late, and he caught Xander glance at him then look away. After what seemed like a long time, Steve dusted his hands and sat back on his heels.

‘Well –’ He signalled for the sergeant and Bub to rejoin them. ‘I had a chat with the pilot yesterday and no real surprises here today. Dehydration, I’d say. We’ll have to send him up to St Helens for an autopsy to be sure – youngish healthy guy, unexpected death, they’ll want to take a look – but he’s showing all the signs.’ Steve looked up. ‘What was he was doing out here?’

‘We’re not sure,’ Nathan said.

Sergeant Ludlow was flipping through a notebook. ‘So, er . . .’ He looked at Bub. ‘You and he were supposed to meet on Wednesday, is that right?’

‘Yeah.’

The sergeant waited, his sunburn turning a deeper shade of red as Bub stared back. ‘Could you tell me about that?’

Bub looked a little surprised but, haltingly and with plenty of prompting, recounted the same story he’d told Nathan earlier. It was disjointed in the retelling, and even Nathan found himself frowning in confusion in places. Sergeant Ludlow scribbled furiously long after Bub had finished, then flipped back a page, his eyes moving across the words.

‘Why were you late?’ He spoke lightly, as though the thought had just occurred to him, but Nathan felt sure the question had been brewing for minutes. He looked at the cop, with his burned skin and wide eyes, and suddenly wondered if he’d misjudged him.

‘What?’ Bub blinked.

‘Why were you late to meet your brother as arranged at Lehmann’s Hill?’

‘Oh. I got two flats.’

‘Tyres?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Two flat tyres?’

‘Yeah.’

‘That’s pretty unlucky.’ The sergeant was smiling, but there was something new in his tone.

‘It’s happens,’ Nathan said quickly, and he was relieved to see Steve nodding in agreement. ‘It’s not unusual, with the heat and the rocks. You wreck one tyre, quite often you wreck two. And it’ll take you forty-five minutes to change a flat this time of year, an hour even.’ He could feel himself rambling, and stopped.