Bones In The Well

Chapter 2

2

Sam Rose woke slowly, turned his head, and looked at the woman sleeping next to him. He watched as her chest rose, and fell, rhythmically, the bed sheet just covering the gentle swell of her breasts. Her hair, long, and blonde, splayed haphazardly across the pillow, and one wisp fell across her cheek. The fine, light tip waved almost unperceptively as she softly exhaled.

There were only two occasions in Rose’s life where he had grown more than fond of a particular woman, and Sarah Collins, sleeping peacefully beside him, was one of them. Love was an unfamiliar emotion for Sam. He was, of course, aware of the concept of love and all it entailed in respect of the partnership between a man and a woman, but until Sarah came into his life he came close to experiencing it himself on only one other occasion. Like any new, exciting experience, it was going to take getting used to, he thought.

Careful not to wake her, he rose on one elbow and stared at the woman who had, in recent months, become such an important part of his life.

For Sam, confirmed bachelorhood was never a conscious decision reached after having given due consideration to the benefits as well as the negatives. Rather, he could well be described as a devotee of the brotherhood of single men, were such a brotherhood to exist. He was considered by many of his colleagues to be the epitome of a lady’s man. Indeed, it would be fair to say of Sam, one-night stands had become somewhat of a stock in trade.

Since the onset of puberty, when he first came to the realisation there were very distinct differences between the male and the female of the species, he had more than his share of girlfriends. Long term physical, and emotional attachments to members of the opposite s*x were not something he purposely set out to avoid. It was simply one of those things which, for one reason or another, rarely happened for Sam. He never considered himself out of step with his male counterparts, and it wasn’t something he should be particularly concerned about.

Sam Rose and Sarah Collins were both cops—Northern Territory police officers to be precise. Sam was a Detective Sergeant attached to Major Crime in Alice Springs, and Sarah was the Officer in Charge of Yulara Police Station, five hundred kilometres to the south west of Alice Springs. They met when investigating a series of murders at Lasseter’s Cave, west of Yulara. Over the period of their investigation, a mutual fondness developed culminating in the inevitable physical consummation of their relationship.

Both Sam and Sarah were single; Sarah was married once, but the union ended in divorce when she discovered her husband enjoying an afternoon delight with her next door neighbor. Her involvement with Sam was the first with any man since her divorce, and initially, she was surprised to find herself attracted to him given his reputation as a skirt chaser. The last thing Sarah wanted, or needed, was to get involved with another man with a wandering eye and a p***s that followed.

She was well aware the police force had more than enough testosterone dripping, knuckle dragging Neanderthals. She swallowed her disgust whenever she passed within ten metres of them as they sucked in their bellies, puffed out their chests, and played with the back of their short necks so their biceps bulged. Sam Rose, to Sarah’s relief, was not one of them.

Since getting to know him however, she had decided his reputation, although almost certainly having a degree of truthfulness to it, was not something by which she should judge him. He was a single man; a free agent. He was a good-looking man, without being drop dead gorgeous. He was tall and had a body commensurate with his height and weight. He made her laugh, and he was good to her, and for her. It was easy to understand why any woman would be attracted to him. He possessed the physical, and personality, traits she found sadly lacking in the majority of men she came into contact with, and that was always going to be a plus.

They were together a few months, and although he worked in Alice Springs, and she at Yulara, Sarah had no reason to suspect, or evidence to suggest, he might be cheating on her. It comforted her to assume his apparent monogamous behavior might be attributed to his feelings for her.

Men, many of them, had declared to her, she was beautiful, Sam being one of them, but beauty was not something which preoccupied Sarah’s thoughts any more than as a passing interest. She was not ugly, she knew that much about herself. She accepted she was probably pretty, but she had always prescribed to the theory, real beauty originated from the inside. The visible, physical image was merely window dressing and of little consequence when assessing an individual’s overall character, and of no consequence at all when measuring one’s ability to attract a member of the opposite s*x.

Despite Sam’s good looks, Sarah discovered he had qualities far more attractive than mere looks, and while she was not in love with him, she was well aware, as their relationship progressed, she might very well be before much longer.

Sarah opened her eyes and saw Sam resting on one elbow watching her.

“Hi,” she murmured sleepily.

“Good morning,” Sam smiled.

“How long have you been laying there staring at me?” Sarah asked.

“A while,” Sam answered.

Sarah stretched and yawned. “What are you thinking about?”

“I was wondering whether you might be interested in good morning s*x,” Sam answered.

Sarah raised her eyebrows. “You woke me three times last night,” she declared. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Well… to be fair,” Sam reminded her, “One of those occasions you woke up to go to the loo and, if you recall, you took advantage of me when you came back to bed.”

Sarah raised herself onto her elbow and brought her face close to Sam. “And, if you recall, you never objected.”

Sam smiled and kissed her lightly. “I might be silly, but I’m not a total idiot.”

Sarah kissed him back. “Well we don’t have time. I have to go back to Yulara this morning. I need to shower and get dressed.”

Sam lifted the bed sheet from his body and looked down at his groin. “What am I going to do with this?”

Sarah followed his eyes. “Oh dear… that looks nasty… you really should get that looked at. Is it painful?”

“A little, but you could ease the pain,” Sam suggested.

Sarah looked down again. “Mmm… maybe I could make time to administer pain relief.” She moved her leg across his body and sat astride him, the bed sheet sliding away from her naked body. “Be brave… I’ll have you fixed up before you know it.”

“Take your time,” Sam said.

Russell Foley opened his desk drawer and took out the holstered Glock .22 semi-automatic pistol, clipped it onto his belt, and adjusted his jacket so it concealed the weapon. Foley, a Detective Inspector, and Officer in Charge of Major Crime in Alice Springs, made a point of completing a tour around the city and suburbs of the Alice as often as he could. The time constraints of his position made it difficult to do regularly, but he was conscious of the need to stay in touch with the streets and the people on it.

Foley loved his current position, but he missed working at the coal face of the job. Out on the street, reacting accordingly when drunken Joe Citizen was smacking the daylights out of his wife, or one of his kids. Or, when he decided s*x with his spouse, or with anyone, was a right and not a privilege, and was there to be taken, by force if necessary, as opposed to being consensual.

Russell Foley had been on the job long enough to know there were streets in any town or city which had become the breeding ground for lowlife scum who considered themselves above the law. Alice Springs, in the heart of the Northern Territory was no exception. Foley considered the Alice, as it was affectionately known, and indeed most towns in the Territory, was at a distinct disadvantage from most other major cities in Australia. It was isolated, at least geographically speaking, and it was populated by an eclectic mix of races and cultures, too many of whom considered themselves to be more deserving of hand-outs than others like them.

Despite benefits, government or otherwise, being available for everyone entitled to receive them, it seemed there were always going to be those who considered themselves deserving of even more, and were inclined to take it illegally. These folk were the reason Foley joined the police force in the first place, over twenty years ago. There had to be something intrinsically wrong with people who chose to steal that which belonged to another, those who laid claim to a benefit to which they were not entitled, or those who, be it pre-meditated or otherwise, took the life of another.

Russell Foley not only loved his job, he was good at it. Was his contribution making a difference? The short answer was, probably not. He knew nothing he alone did in relation to his job would bring the crime rate down. While that was disappointing, those statistics were never going to change until member numbers increased proportionately with those willing to chance their luck and break the law. Foley took little consolation in the realisation that, government budgets being what they were, there was not likely to be an increase in member numbers any time soon.

He was about to leave his office when the telephone on his desk rang shrilly. Given the nature of his job, a ringing telephone was rarely good news. “s**t!” he cursed aloud, and stepped back into his office.

Russell Foley knocked on Sam’s door. While he waited he looked at the front yard of the modest, police department subsidised home. The lawn, small and compact, was in need of mowing, and the narrow garden bed running the length of the low front fence was bereft of anything resembling flowers, and crowded with everything resembling weeds.

He heard the click of the door lock and turned to see Sam Rose, standing in the doorway looking casual and relaxed in a fleece tracksuit which looked like it could well be a relic of the nineteen-seventies. Foley slowly, and deliberately, eyed Sam’s attire from head to toe. “Been shopping at St. Vincent De Paul again?” he said.

Sam paused, and fixed Foley with a look which displayed offence. “I’ll have you know, St. Vinnies have some very good stuff… and it’s cheap. What are you, the fashion police now?”

Foley pushed past his friend and stepped into the house. “It’s very fetching,” he scoffed.

“Please, come in,” Sam said sarcastically as he closed the door and followed Foley into the small lounge room. “You insult my choice of off-duty attire, and now I suppose you want coffee?”

“No time for coffee,” Foley shrugged. “We have a job.”

“What’s this ‘we’ business?” Sam said. “I’m on my days off. I told you Sarah was coming in from Yulara.”

“How is the lovely Sarah,” Foley asked.

“She’s gone back. Left about an hour ago, and she’s fine, thanks for asking.”

“Have a nice time?” Foley smirked.

“None of your bloody business… but for the record yes, we had a nice time.”

“You’re a lucky man,” Foley said. “I hope you know that.”

“I do know that,” Sam nodded. “What’s the job?”

“We’re going on a road trip,” Foley answered.

“Where to?”

“About an hour west of Wauchope,” Foley said.

“Where’s Walk Up?”

Foley shook his head. “Not ‘Walk Up’ you uneducated moron. It’s Wauchope… one word… Wauchope! It’s up near the Devil’s Marbles.”

“Now I really am insulted,” Sam said. “You criticise my choice of wardrobe, and now you call me an ‘uneducated moron’. I went to high school… I’m well educated.”

“Sorry,” Foley laughed. “I stand corrected. You’re a very intelligent moron.”

“Apology accepted,” Sam said. “I do know where the Devil’s Marbles are,” he added, eager to demonstrate his limited geographical knowledge.

“Ever been there?” Foley asked.

“No.”

“For someone born and raised in the Territory, you haven’t seen much,” Foley said.

“You’ve pointed that out to me before,” Sam responded. “What have we got up there at this ‘Wauchope’ place?”

“Bones at the bottom of a well,” Foley smiled.

“Oh, that’s great,” Sam said. “Bones at the bottom of a well… probably a bloody kangaroo fell in getting a drink of water. It’s my day off!” he moaned.

“What else would you be doing, besides recovering from what has obviously been a strenuous couple of days?” Foley winked.

“Something wrong with your eye?” Sam asked sarcastically.

“My eye is fine,” Foley smiled. “Go pack a bag.”

“Pack a bag! How far away is this place?”

“Wauchope’s about four hundred kilometres north, and the well is another hour east.”

“I shoulda hid under the bed when you knocked,” Sam murmured as he stalked off to his bedroom.

When he returned a few minutes later, he had an overnight bag draped over his shoulder. “You know I get paid extra for sacrificing my day off.”

“Tell it to the Pay Office,” Foley said, crossing to the door.

They stepped outside, and Foley indicated the unkempt garden. “Your lawn needs mowing, and you need to plant flowers in the garden bed.”

“I’ve never owned a lawn mower in my life,” Sam said dismissively. “I can’t see myself changing now.”

“You could pay someone to mow it for you,” Foley suggested.

“Then I gotta pay every few weeks for the rest of my life,” Sam scoffed. “I’m gonna get a few head of cattle, they’ll keep the grass down.”

Foley laughed. “What about flowers?”

Sam began walking towards the unmarked police car parked in the driveway. “The cows will crap on the lawn, I’ll shovel the s**t on the flower bed, and flowers will grow all year round.”

“Do you even own a shovel?” Foley asked, following along behind.

“No, do you?”

“Of course I own a shovel,” Foley answered.

“Then why the f**k do I need one?”

Russell Foley turned right from Sam’s street, and merged into the traffic building rapidly towards the morning peak hour.

“Have you two made any plans?” he asked, as he swerved around a slow moving, heavily loaded utility.

“Plans?” Sam said, looking across at Foley.

“Yes, plans,” Foley said. “You know, plans for something more permanent in regards to your relationship.”

“More permanent than what?” Sam asked.

“More permanent than seeing each other more often than once every now and then,” Foley explained.

“No,” Sam answered.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Sam said.

“You like her don’t you?” Foley asked, concentrating on the traffic ahead.

“Yes, I like her,” Sam agreed.

Foley glanced quickly at Sam. “Why don’t you marry the girl?”

Sam looked again at Foley. “What… you’re my mother now?”

“A blind man can see she’s perfect for you,” Foley added.

“Maybe the blind man should marry her,” Sam said.

“What?” Foley cried, surprise evident in his tone.

Sam shifted in his seat. “Look, Russell, I appreciate your concern, I really do. I’m fond of Sarah… I might even be falling for her, but I’m not the marrying kind. Marriage scares me.” He paused. “You know better than most, police marriages are, in the majority, doomed to failure.”

“Only when one half of the partnership is in the job,” Foley explained. “You and Sarah are both cops, you both know what the job involves.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Sam asked, feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” Foley shrugged. “None of my business, I just thought I’d ask. I’d kinda like to be best man before I’m too old to stand at the altar with you.”

Sam smiled. “Best man! Don’t you think you’re being a bit presumptuous?”

Foley looked back at Sam. “Why, who else have you got in mind?”

Sam reached across and patted Foley on the shoulder. “No one else, Russ, if and when I ever decide to get married, you’re the man, buddy.”

“I think I’m gonna cry,” Foley said.

“Please don’t,” Sam smiled. “Tell me more about the bones in the well,” he suggested, changing the subject.

“The Tennant Creek chaps are at the scene. The well is located on a cattle station out beyond an old tungsten mine east of Wauchope. A boundary rider was checking out the well and discovered a body at the bottom. He contacted Tennant Creek, and a couple of uniform blokes attended, had a look, and called it in.”

“Why are we going? It sounds straight forward?”

“It looks like there may be more than one body,” Foley said.

“How many more?” Sam probed, his interest aroused.

“I don’t know,” Foley shrugged.

On arriving at Wauchope, Foley stopped at the fuel pumps in front of the hotel. While he filled the tank, Sam stepped out of the vehicle and stretched. He looked around at the tiny settlement consisting of a solitary hotel and very little else which could be considered inhabitable. He wondered why anyone would even want to live in such a lonely looking place. At first glance, apart from the hotel, there seemed to be absolutely nothing to offer even the most enthusiastic traveler.

Wauchope was a few hundred metres off the main tourist route. Russell Foley explained during the four-hour drive to get to this point, Wauchope was once a thriving township servicing the now abandoned tungsten mine further to the east. When the mine closed in 1941, the population plummeted, and now just a few hardy souls remained.

Fifteen kilometers to the south, was Wycliffe Well, a much more popular stopover point. Wycliffe Well boasted a spacious caravan park offering a variety of accommodation options for the weary traveler. Also on offer were fuel supplies, and a roadhouse with a basic, clean, dining room where hungry tourists could enjoy a meal, a cold beer, and a glass or two of wine while reading the many articles adorning the walls claiming it to be the UFO capital of Australia.

Well marketed, and equally well managed, Wycliffe Well had long ago outstripped Wauchope as the preferred place for the traveler to break his journey. As an added incentive, there was always the possibility of seeing a genuine UFO. However, in the event a tourist was unfortunate enough not to see a UFO, he or she could, by way of consolation, have their photo taken with their face stuck through the life size Alien cut-out on display outside the entrance to the roadhouse.

Sam walked around the vehicle, stopped in front of the hotel, and cast his eyes about. He did not see a soul anywhere, not even another vehicle. He turned to Foley who was almost finished filling the fuel tank.

“Does anyone live here?”

Russell Foley glanced at the immediate area. “I guess so, I’m getting petrol out of this pump so I expect someone is watching me.”

“I suppose real estate would be cheap,” Sam surmised.

“Are you considering a tree change?” Foley kidded.

Sam paused. “If I was, I think I could find somewhere with a little more life.”

Just then, a black dog appeared from around the side of the hotel, stopped, c****d its head to one side, and studied Sam, and Foley, with momentary interest. The dog lifted a leg, peed against the corner of the building, and then disappeared back around the corner of the hotel.

“That reminds me,” Sam said. “I need a leak.”

Foley hung up the fuel nozzle. “We need to leave the car here. Someone from Tennant Creek is meeting us here with a four-wheel-drive vehicle. Apparently it’s a rough, dirt road out to the well. I’ll talk to the hotel manager and find out where we can leave our car.”

“How far do we have to go?” Sam asked.

“About another hour,” Foley answered. “

Foley, and Sam, removed their weapons from their belts, locked them in the glove compartment of the vehicle, and walked towards the hotel entrance.

“Are you hungry?” Foley asked Sam.

Sam looked at his watch and shrugged. “A little, but I’m not in the mood for road-house take-away. Bloody stuff will clog up your arteries quicker than cement.”

“Since when have you been health conscious?” Foley said. “Some of the s**t you eat would kill a horse.”

“A man can change, can’t he?” Sam answered.

“It’s Sarah, isn’t it?” Foley prodded Sam.

“What?”

“It’s Sarah. She’s got you eating healthy food at long last.”

“I’ve lost weight,” Sam said, patting his belly.

“How much weight?”

“A couple of kilos,” Sam said.

“Good for you, Sam,” Foley smiled. “Good for you. Has she got you jogging yet?”

“I’m health conscious, not suicidal,” Sam stepped in front of Foley, and pushed through the door of the hotel.