Snatched!

Chapter 4

4

Sam Rose looked across at his partner in the passenger seat. “So,” he said. “When were you going to tell me about Jessica?”

Russell Foley ignored the question and continued to focus on the scenery rushing by outside the vehicle.

“Well?” Sam insisted.

Foley turned in his seat and looked at Sam. “Why all the sudden interest in my love life?”

“Because I can’t remember when you last had a love life.”

“And I can’t remember when I last considered you to be funny,” Foley responded.

Sam shrugged. “We’re friends,” he answered. “I like to know if my friends have something wonderful going on in their lives.”

Foley stared in silence at Sam.

“What?” Sam asked, glancing quickly at Foley.

“You are so full of s**t,” Foley said. “I met someone, she’s nice, we’re dating. It’s not earth-shattering news.”

“Yes, it is,” Sam said. “You never date.”

“Of course I date,” Foley countered. “I just don’t tell you about it when I do. My private life is just that – private.”

“I’m offended,” Sam huffed. “We tell each other everything.”

“Not everything,” Foley disagreed. “But, there is one thing I would like to tell you.”

Sam smiled at Foley. “Oh, goody!” he said cheerfully. “Is it about you and Jessica?”

“No, it’s not about me and Jessica,” Foley answered.

“Okay, but we are going to get back to you and Jessica later, Russell. You can count on it. What is it you want to tell me?”

Foley returned his attention to the passing landscape. “I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re an i***t,” he said.

“That’s not news,” Sam said. “You tell me that all the time.”

“I don’t want you to forget,” Foley explained.

Sam began to slow the vehicle. “There,” he said, pointing ahead. “That might be the two Papunya chaps.”

Ahead in the distance, two police officers stood at the side of the road, near where it intersected with Gary Junction Road. They leaned casually against the side of their station vehicle, a Toyota four-wheel-drive utility fitted with a covered cage at the rear, used for transporting prisoners.

Sam slowed, and parked behind the Toyota. He and Foley climbed out of their vehicle and approached the two uniformed officers.

Senior Constable David “Spog” Sparrow, officer in charge of Papunya Police Station stepped away from the Toyota and offered his hand to Russell Foley. “David Sparrow, sir,” he said, shaking Foley’s hand.

“G’day Spog,” Foley smiled. “I remember you from your time at Alice Springs.” He turned to face the second officer. “You must be Richard Smart,” he smiled, offering his hand.

“Yes, sir,” Smart said. “They call me ‘Maxwell’.”

“Yes,” Foley smiled. “I remember that also.” He turned and indicated Sam, standing behind him. “Have you chaps met Sam Rose?” he asked.

“No,” Smart and Sparrow said in unison. “We know of Sergeant Rose though,” Sparrow said.

Sam stepped forward and shook firmly with both men. “Nice to meet you, fellas,” he said. “And you can dispense with the ‘Sergeant’ stuff. Out here, it’s just Sam.”

Russell Foley stepped away from the small group and looked around the immediate area. He noticed a dark patch at the verge of the road, stepped cautiously across and squatted on his haunches closely examining the pool of dried blood which had almost entirely soaked away into the hot, dry earth. A swarm of flies buzzed angrily at the intrusion onto their feeding ground before settling once again on what remained. “Where’s the body, Spog?” he asked, getting to his feet and looking back at Sparrow.

“At the medical clinic at Papunya,” Sparrow said. “We took photos of the scene before moving it, and then ‘Max’ took it back to Papunya before returning here.”

“Tell us about him,” Foley said.

Constable Richard ‘Maxwell’ Smart referred to his official handbook. “Walter Tjapanangka,” he began. “Local aboriginal from Haasts Bluff. Age unknown but estimated at around fifty. He was employed by the community as a general handy-man-come-gardener-come-school-bus driver.” He flipped a page and continued. “Shot once, in the chest, and fell right there, at the side of the road. We have requested the Flying Doctor to come out and transport the body back to Alice Springs.”

“Does he have a police record?” Sam asked.

“That’s the first thing we checked,” Sparrow answered. “He’s a clean-skin. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he has no record.”

“We did learn he doesn’t have a driver’s license,” Smart added.

“What the f**k was he doing driving the school bus?” Sam asked, astounded.

Sparrow shook his head and shrugged. “That sort of s**t goes on out here,” he said. “He’s been driving the bus for as long as both Max and I have been here. We assumed he was licensed. He’s never given us any reason to think otherwise.”

“What about the offender?” Sam asked.

“Don’t know who, or even how many,” Smart answered. “But we believe there had to be at least two of them. One to drive the vehicle from the scene and one to drive the bus away. There also appears to be three sets of footprints in the loose dirt at the side of the road which would confirm that. One set would belong to the bus driver, so it indicates there may have been two offenders.”

“There are tyre tracks just over there also,” Sparrow indicated a spot on the verge of the road. “It looks like the offenders’ vehicle was parked there. Maybe that’s why Tjapanangka stopped and got out of the bus.” He shrugged. “We just don’t know.”

“To help a stranded motorist?” Foley suggested.

“Maybe,” Sparrow nodded.

“Where would they go?” Sam asked.

“Look around,” Sparrow said, sweeping the area with an outstretched arm. “There is nothing out here but endless miles of nothing but flat, desert country. A bus has gotta stick out like the proverbial dog’s balls.”

“We never passed any buses on the way out here,” Sam said. “What other roads are there?”

Sparrow indicated the nearby junction. “That’s Gary Junction Road,” he answered. “It leads to the Tanami Road on the southern edge of the Tanami Desert.”

“Could they have taken that road?” Foley asked.

“Yes, they could have,” Sparrow said. “But then, they could have gone cross-country where there are no roads. Either way it would be a very rough, slow ride. Road maintenance out here is virtually non-existent. But, it’s flat, and hard,” he said with a shrug. “It could be done.”

“Yeah, but why would they go cross-country? Like you said, there’s nothing out there. Where would they hide a b****y bus?”

“What time did all this happen?” Foley asked.

“As close as we can determine, about nine-thirty this morning,” Sparrow answered.

Foley looked at his watch. “It’s one-thirty now,” he said. “They’ve got a four-hour head start. How far could they get in four hours?”

“The roads are very rough and corrugated,” Sparrow explained. “They’re in a conventional-drive bus, not a four-wheel-drive. If they stick to the road, maybe two hundred kilometres, a bit more perhaps. Less than that if they go cross-country.”

“How many people on the bus?” Sam asked.

Sparrow deferred to his second in charge. “Max?”

Smart referred again to his notebook. “Eleven students,” he said. “Five girls; two white and three Aboriginal. Six boys; three white and three Aboriginal. Then there’s the teacher,” he paused momentarily before continuing. “Tracy Cartwright. Caucasian, single, twenty-eight years old, no police record, six months left on a two-year tenure at Haasts Bluff school.” He looked at Sparrow who nodded almost imperceptibly.

Smart looked at Foley and continued. “I need to declare a personal interest at this point,” he said.

“An interest?”

“Yeah,” Smart nodded. “I have been seeing Tracy Cartwright, the teacher.”

“Define ‘seeing’,” Foley said.

“We are in a relationship, sort of.”

“’Sort of’. What does that mean, exactly?”

“Well,” Smart continued. “She lives at Haasts Bluff, I live at Papunya. We don’t see each other that often.”

“I assume you are both single,” Foley said.

“Yes,” Smart confirmed.

“Then, I see nothing morally wrong with the relationship. If I have any concerns at all it would be if you can still do your job if you have a personal interest in the case.”

“I can do my job, sir,” Smart said.

Foley patted Smart on the shoulder. “Good,” he said.

Sam smiled at Smart. “Don’t worry about it, Maxwell,” he said. “We’ve all got girlfriends, even Russell.”

Foley glared at Sam. “Let’s get back to the case of the missing school bus, shall we?”

Sam looked at Sparrow. “Any ideas on motive?” he asked.

Sparrow shrugged. “That’s anybody’s guess. Why would anyone want to snatch a bus load of school children?”

“Money would be my guess,” Sam suggested.

“What about the families?” Foley asked. “Do any of them have the sort of money that would motivate a potential kidnapper?”

“We know all of them,” Sparrow said. “Obviously we are not familiar with their individual financial status, but most of the aboriginal families are on welfare and, to the best of my knowledge, none of the white families are particularly wealthy. Besides,” he added. “Why would you come out here in the desert to work if you had plenty of money?”

“Good point,” Foley said. “So, that leaves us with – why?”

“Where are the families?” Sam asked.

“All the children are from Haasts Bluff,” Smart answered. “They were on a day excursion to Papunya. The families are at Haasts Bluff, gathered at the school waiting for an update from us.”

Russell Foley moved away and crossed back to the edge of the road where tyre imprints were obvious in the soft, loose dirt. He squatted on his haunches again and examined the tracks. “You get photos of these tyre tracks?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, several,” Smart answered. “The footprints also.”

Foley stood. He took a few moments to look out over the vast, open, flat, landscape. In the distance, a heat haze shimmered on the horizon. He turned back to the group. “Okay,” he said. “I suppose we better get to Haasts Bluff and talk to the families.”