The overalled legs firmed on the ground and Digger pulled his torso from the vehicle. He had dark hair, a tanned and lined face, dark eyes and was missing several top teeth. He observed Cardilini and gave a nod to Taylor. Then he pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped his hands slowly.

‘The missus wanted to inform you that afternoon tea doesn’t last all day.’

‘Tell her I’m sorry. Got busy.’

‘He drank your tea, anyway,’ Taylor said indicating Cardilini.

‘From the city?’ Digger asked.

‘Cardilini. East Perth.’

‘An Itie,’ Digger said.

‘Itie and Scot. You got a problem with that?’ Cardilini asked.

‘The Scot part of it,’ Digger said with a knowing look to Taylor.

‘Hilarious,’ Cardilini replied. ‘Do you use hollow-point bullets?’

‘I have, why?’ Digger asked as he finished wiping his hands and looking sideways at Cardilini.

‘What for?’

‘Crocs. Why do you ask?’

‘Where do you get them?’

‘I make ’em,’ Digger said throwing his rag onto the Humber running board.

‘How?’ Cardilini asked. Digger looked to Taylor who shrugged to indicate he had no idea what Cardilini was on about.

Digger turned and walked into the shed. Cardilini turned to Taylor quizzically. The farmer indicated for him to follow. Digger reached into the back of a ute and pulled out several rounds. At a manual drill press, he set the bullet head up in a timber frame and clamped it to the bench below the drill.

‘That looks dangerous,’ Cardilini said stopping several steps away.

Digger ignored the comment and lowered a narrow drill bit onto the tip of the bullet and slowly turned the drill. A thin thread of lead began to peel its way from the bit and bullet. Digger stopped after a number of turns, released the bullet and tossed it to Cardilini. The bullet had a neat hole down it’s centre.

‘That’s it?’ Cardilini asked.

‘That’s it.’

Cardilini tossed the bullet back. ‘Thanks. You use them for roos?’

‘No need, besides it a makes a bloody mess.’

‘Okay. How many of you were shooting that night?’

‘Just me.’

‘I got the impression there’s often more than one shooter.’

‘There can be but not a lot of feed about for a few years so the roos don’t give birth. They can put it off you know. No feed means fewer roos, means fewer skins, means less money if you’re splitting it, which means I shoot by myself,’ Digger finished and Taylor looked to Cardilini to see how impressed he was with Digger’s logic.

‘Did you hear any shots the night the teacher was killed?’ Cardilini asked.

‘Apart from my own, you mean?’

‘Yes. Apart from them.’

‘Why?’

‘A man was shot. If not by you, by someone else,’ Cardilini stated.

‘Oh, now it’s by me, is it? You can see how these boys work,’ Digger said to Taylor.

Cardilini assured, ‘That’s not what I meant.’