Chapters (61)
- Cover
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Acknowledgements
- About the author
‘The fact of the matter is .303’s aren’t used over here. Too bloody dangerous.’
‘The coroner believes the shot came from here.’
Taylor snapped back, ‘Well he’s a bloody idiot.’
Cardilini nodded. ‘The school community believes it also. So what do you think’s going on?’
‘No idea. The roo-shooter is going to trap the roos further north, from now on. At one of the dams. Suits us, right Missus?’
‘Suits us. Going to keep the roos from the feed along the river. Suits us,’ Mrs Taylor agreed.
‘Too right,’ Taylor confirmed. ‘Anything else?’
‘The police didn’t take your rifle?’ Cardilini tried to ask casually as he sipped his strong tea.
‘Why would they? It’s not going anywhere. They did take my word though.’
‘You told the police it would be impossible for the shot to come from this side of the bank?’
Taylor reacted affronted. ‘No. I never said that. I said, and Digger the shooter confirmed, that a shot from this side of the river was not in any way connected to Digger shooting roos.’
‘You had only one man, Digger, shooting that night?’
‘You can speak to him. He butts and skins the roos. Sells the meat for pet food and the skin to a fella in the city. Occasionally he’ll put a joey in the chook pen, if one’s in the mother’s pouch. Digger’s a bit of a softy, isn’t he, Missus?’
‘He’s a bit of a softy all right. We give them away as pets. Wouldn’t be surprised if they end up in a stew, though,’ Mrs Taylor said.
‘Nothing wrong with kangaroo stew,’ Taylor confirmed.
‘Did Digger say he heard any other shots that night?’
‘You can ask him. He’s in the shed. He’s also a bit of a mechanic.’
‘A local?’
‘Of course. Finish your tea and we’ll go over,’ Taylor said.
‘And tell Digger afternoon tea doesn’t last all day,’ Mrs Taylor added.
Cardilini and Taylor smoked as they walked across the yard of hard-packed white sand towards one of the sheds. As Cardilini inhaled, the heat of the afternoon gave the cigarette an acrid taste. Not like smoking on a winter’s day, Cardilini thought. The shed was timber-framed with walls of vertically placed planks. A weathered, corrugated iron roof, rusted red at the edges, seemed to hold the structure together. A tall, thin man in overalls was bent over the wheel arch of an old Humber, his head and arms buried within the engine bay.
‘Digger. Another policeman. A detective sergeant, from the city this time.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ came from the engine bay.
‘Can he fix carbies?’
‘Can you fix carbies?’ Taylor asked.
‘No.’
‘Seems he can’t.’