Vanished James Delargy (digital book reader .txt) 📖

was investigating the local gold market. With Mike Andrews’s and Stevie Amaranga’s accounts static since early December it meant cash had been attained by other means.

By the time she joined them, Rispoli, Anand and Barker had been to three dealers around Leonora checking on sudden influxes in amounts or quality of gold. They convened in a coffee shop in the afternoon, huddled around a table.

‘We showed them photos of Mike Andrews and Stevie Amaranga. No positive IDs,’ said Rispoli.

‘Which leaves us with?’ asked Emmaline, recovering from the flight with a double espresso that was powering through her system.

‘We still have a few more to try. Official dealers that is,’ said Rispoli.

‘How many unofficial?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine.’

‘But no leads so far?’

Anand was flicking through his notepad. The scribble on the pages looked very neat and assured. ‘One of them – Gord Sawyers – informed me that there are finds all the time. Here, there and everywhere. He was pretty unhelpful.’

‘We focused on the last few months. Who came in and sold what,’ said Barker, ‘but apparently there is no follow-up to check that the place stated as the discovery site is the actual discovery site.’

‘So this might happen a lot?’ said Emmaline.

Barker nodded and shrugged.

Rispoli spoke up. ‘What we know is that they have to present ID when making a sale. Their name is noted. So given that we know when they left Queensland and that they had to buy the equipment, set up and start mining, the selling could only have begun in the last six weeks to a month.’

Emmaline continued. ‘So we need to identify anyone who has started and finished their gold trading career abruptly in the last month.’

69

Lorcan

‘Happy Christmas!’

Lorcan shouted down the tunnel. Not that they would hear him over the noise of the machines, hard at work, making money. Money that he could do with getting some of.

In a show of good faith he had brought some chocolate cake. It was two days past its sell-by date but still edible. He was about to enter when the bald one, Mike, appeared at the entrance, his face set in a scowl that seemed to be an almost permanent fixture.

Backing him up was Stevie, thin as a whippet, wearing a look of suspicion.

‘What do you want?’ asked Mike, snapping the gum in his mouth and glancing behind Lorcan as if to check he hadn’t brought a cavalry.

Lorcan thrust the cake towards them. ‘It’s Christmas.’

‘Happy Christmas,’ said Mike, without cheer.

Stevie stepped forward and took a piece, wolfing it down, before swigging from a bottle of water tucked in his belt. ‘Thanks,’ he said, offering a thin smile.

Mike glared at him as if he had done something taboo, before reaching for a piece and scoffing it.

‘Where’s Ian?’ asked Lorcan, peering over their shoulders into the darkness.

Mike looked to Stevie, his mouth full.

‘Town,’ said Stevie.

‘Oh. How’s work?’

‘Good.’

‘Getting much?’

By now Mike had finished the cake. ‘You don’t need to concern yourself with that.’ Christmas was over.

‘What are you digging for?’

‘I’ll ask you the same question.’

‘I’m just curious,’ said Lorcan, flashing them both a faux-friendly smile. ‘About what you’re doing.’

‘Best that you don’t know,’ said Mike, throwing a new piece of gum into his mouth.

‘You probably wouldn’t understand,’ added Stevie.

‘I read up about gold mining and extraction earlier. Diamond mining too. I have a degree in Business Management.’

This caused Mike to laugh loudly. A cruel laugh. ‘Very good,’ he said not hiding the sarcasm. ‘Not very relevant to mineral extraction though, is it? Not much call for typing a hundred words a minute down here.’

Lorcan bit his tongue. He wanted to keep this on friendly terms. ‘Is Ian off selling your find?’

‘How about you go back and fix that broken wall?’ said Mike with a grin that Stevie struggled not to match.

Lorcan felt his own face work into a frown. Friendly terms being stretched.

‘What are you going to do now?’ asked Stevie. ‘Get out of town?’

‘Is that what you want?’ asked Lorcan, harsher than intended.

There was no immediate answer, but Mike’s lazily raised eyebrows suggested that was their preference.

‘We just need you to leave us alone,’ said Mike.

‘I could, and I could get back to fixing the wall and the roof if I had money,’ said Lorcan, feeling his stomach knot.

He could sense the temperature of the room suddenly plummet. The iciness in Mike’s glare returned and only the tap on the shoulder from Stevie got him to turn and head back down the tunnel. Lorcan didn’t follow them.

70

Naiyana

Mrs Blanchard had only been in the shop because she needed to pick up butter for her own mashed potatoes. Naiyana persuaded her that she was only going to be a couple of minutes, rounding up a makeshift Christmas dinner of packaged turkey, ham and tinned potatoes. It wasn’t Michelin star but it would have to do.

The only thing that made it remotely appetizing was her hunger. The shock of the collapsed wall, and the sudden appearance of the rifle had gone from her system and now her nervous energy needed to be replenished.

As she fought the broken road on the drive back to Kallayee a funnel of dirt approached from ahead. She slowed as the truck passed. It was Ian, his arm flopped out the window of the decrepit ute. She wondered where he was heading to. She had as many questions about his motives as her husband but she wanted to forget about him – about them – for now. It would be hard but there was Christmas to celebrate. To make the best of. A horrible situation to be in, having to make the best of something at what was normally considered a joyous time of the year. Only Dylan had been remotely happy, ploughing on with his dirt mining. She wondered what present she could possibly get that would make this Christmas a happy one.

She knew what wouldn’t make it happy.

She flagged Ian down.

71

Lorcan

After his cold