23
Russell Foley’s phone rang, the sound of the William Tell Overture reverberating loud in the small police station office. He fumbled in his pocket, stepped around the office desk and moved away from where he, Sam Rose and the two Papunya officers, Sparrow and Smart, had been studying the large wall map of Papunya and the surrounding district. He flipped opened his phone and saw that the digital display indicated the incoming call was from ‘Yap Yap’ Barker.
“Russell Foley,” he answered.
“G’day, Russ,” Barker said. “Where are you?”
“Got back to Papunya about half an hour ago,” Foley answered.
“It’s about those details you sent me from Tilmouth,” Barker said.
“The name and the vehicle rego.?”
“Yeah,” Barker said. “Do you know how many ‘John Smiths’ there are in the country?”
“About
