23
With seven sutures in his freshly bandaged head, and a pocket full of pain killers, Sam left the medical clinic in Tennant Creek, anxious to get back to Wauchope. When he climbed into the four-wheel-drive seconded from the police station, Foley was waiting.
“Is that the fax from down south?” Sam asked of the file Foley was reading.
“Yes,” Foley confirmed. “And very interesting reading it makes,” he added.
“Do tell,” Sam invited.
“How’s the noggin?” Foley asked, indicating the fresh, clean bandage on Sam’s head.
“The noggin’s fine, thanks for asking. What’s in the file?”
Foley closed the file, tossed it in Sam’s lap, and started the car. “You can read it on the way back to Wauchope,” he said. “I need a shower and a change of clothes, followed closely by a cold beer and a large ste
