Murderer's Thumb (17 page)

‘I was just heading back to the house,' Adam spluttered. He turned and bolted up the hill, certain Colin was laughing at him.

Adam reached the house and slammed the door, his breath coming fast. He rushed to the spare room to get his telescope. Rosemary was there, rolling clay into odd shapes. A milky smear of clay ran across her face. ‘What are you doing?' she said as he bundled his telescope under one arm and made for the door.

He didn't answer. What was the point? He wasn't about to tell her he'd almost been bumped over the head by a murderous farmer. He strode onto the verandah and looked out over the paddocks. The rise was too steep to see Colin, but Adam knew he was out there. What was he planning? He'd have to wait and watch.

He set up the telescope in the middle of the verandah. Behind him was a low shelf made of bricks and slabs of timber. It was one of his mum's display shelves, where she showcased her smaller creations: pots, plaques, mugs and plates. Most of them were hideous. Chunky brown things lacking symmetry. Crap.

He aimed the telescope where Lina's fate line ran and peered into the eyepiece. The far hills were a blurry yellow. Adjusting the focus, a floor of blue sky and tufts of grass came into view but the slope hid everything except the tops of the four gum trees. ‘Shit!'

Adam swung the telescope north, parallel to the ridge the house sat on and looked into old farmer Byrd's property. There were more cypress trees in the distance flanking the shack on two sides.

‘What are you doing, Adam?' Rosemary asked.

He jerked away from the eyepiece and scowled at her. ‘Just looking.'

‘At what? It's broad daylight. I can't see any stars.'

Adam fumed, wishing she'd leave him alone. First Colin, now she was on his back. ‘They're there, Mum. They're always there,' he said icily.

‘Don't be smart. You know what I mean. You're spying.'

He sighed, looking away, trying to control his temper.

‘It's wrong, Adam. You're as bad as your father.'

‘What?'

‘You're just like him, checking up on people, watching their every move—'

‘What about you? What are you doing now, sneaking up on me?'

‘Don't turn this around,' she shrieked. ‘Can't you see what you're doing—'

‘I can see
you're
trying to control
me
. Just like him. Leave me alone!' he spat. He wrenched the telescope backwards as he scooped it up. The tripod legs flipped wildly, smashing into the shelves behind.

He heard the crash of bricks and timber, pottery shards clattering and Rosemary wailing, but he didn't stay to see the damage. He locked himself in his room and turned his stereo on full bore.

After dark, Adam took a torch and returned to the gully. He was feeling bad about what happened to Rosemary's pottery, but he hadn't apologised. Not yet. Adam wanted her to hurt a while longer, because of what she said. How could she compare him with the old man? If only she knew the truth about why Adam was snooping around the farm, then maybe she'd understand.

But she was too neurotic to see what was going on around her. There'd been a murder, for Christ's sake. But he wasn't about to explain to her that the Thackerays were hiding something. Either they knew how Emma died or Loody did. Or maybe Loody and Colin worked together in more ways than one. After all, they'd made the silage pit, the ideal burial place.

Before Adam reached the stand of trees a heifer bellowed in the blackness. Another moaned in reply. They were skittish, moving aside, bulky shadows shifting and stumbling away from him. When a straggler was caught in Adam's torch beam it stood dumbly blinking at him, then fled.

Adam reached the fence and headed for the two corner posts he hadn't managed to examine. He set to work quickly. The first post had no visible knots. The second had a large knot half-way down. He cleared away the leaves and cobwebs with his pocket-knife and shone the torch inside. Something pale reflected at him. Something plastic.

Yes! He was certain it was a small film container, just like the one in the desk, but his fingers were too big to prise it out of the hole. He used his pocket-knife to lever it free. After a few minutes of cursing he succeeded. His hands fumbled as he drew out the paper from inside. It wasn't much. There were only a few sheets folded in half and rolled up. But he recognised Lina's writing straight away. He jammed the paper back into the cylinder and jogged back to the house.

EIGHTEEN

Sunday 17 September

What a weekend! I never thought Matt's party would have erupted into a brawl.

I was drunk. I'd been sneaking rum and coke behind Frank's back. Frank was the barman. What a joke! He was so pissed himself by ten o'clock that he didn't know what he was doing. Aunty Jane kept hanging shit on him all night about how drunk he was. It was the first time I'd ever heard her have a go at him. I reckon she was a bit pissed too. She had a tight blouse on. Her boobs were straining the buttons, making little windows down the front where everyone kept looking, but no one bothered to tell her. Loody spent a lot of time talking to her, his eyes glued to her chest. Stupid pervert.

Frank caught me getting stuck into the rum and told me off. I called him an idiot and said he shouldn't try and be my father because no one else can replace my dad. It was the same when I lived at home. Mum's boyfriend always tried to ‘be a father figure'. Well I don't need one.

I swore a lot. Frank walked off then, abandoned the bar. Matt came up and asked me what it was all about. I was shouting. I waved him away and then went home to go to the toilet because there was a queue at Emma's. My head was buzzing. There were some guys drinking beside one of the cars in the yard. They jeered at me, said something rank about a head job. So I swore at them.

When I came back to the party there was this huge fight out the front where those guys were drinking. Colin went psycho at them and told them to bugger off. One of them got really aggro and told Colin he was a fuckwit. Then everyone started fighting. Loody got really fired up and Mongrel was out of control. Matt stepped in to break it up and ended up with a black eye—what a birthday present! I ran into the house, terrifled they'd get me too but they drove off in a cloud of dust, screaming out the windows and blaring their horn all the way down the driveway.

We were shit-scared they'd come back. At least Meredith and Emma and I were. Rachel was trying to calm Mongrel down, pulling at his arm, but he kept shrugging her off. The Brolga said nothing. She just sat in the lounge room holding a bag of frozen peas to Matt's face.

The party pretty much wound up after that. I went back to the house with Aunty Jane and Frank. Frank kept shouting back to Colin to let him know if the hoons returned. He'd show 'em what he could do. Bullshit, bullshit. Frank would run like a scared rabbit.

I slept in this morning so I didn't see how the Thackerays recovered after Matt's big night. I guess the cows still need milking no matter how big your hangover is. Frank kept muttering about losing his wallet and searched the house over and over. I felt like shit for most of the day. My head was sore and thumping.

I hope Matt liked his present.

M.T.

Monday 18 September

Matt sat with me on the verandah again last night. His eye looks awful, all bloodshot. Said he didn't know those guys would start a fight. Apparently they were from the team they played footy against a few weeks ago. They heard about Matt's party and asked if they could come. And Matt, being Matt, said, ‘Sure, you're all welcome'.

I didn't see Emma yesterday either. Matt said she was in a bad mood and didn't want to talk to anyone. She locked herself in her room. She was quiet on the bus today, too. I guess she was still in a shitty mood. Who cares? She'll get over it.

Matt also said he was going for his driver's licence this week, but he wouldn't tell me which day. He doesn't want to fail and let everyone down. It's not the driving he's worried about, just the examiner. Tests freak him out he reckons. That's why it took him four goes to get his learner's permit. Poor guy.

M.T.

Tuesday 19 September

Emma got angry with me today and said she didn't want to speak to me because I'm a troublemaker. I don't know what she's on about. Probably because I swore at those guys at the party. Well they deserved it. How was I to know they'd start a fight with Colin.

She said she didn't want me to talk to Matt either. Well she can get stuffed. I can talk to him if I want to. We're good mates now. I'm good for him because I can get him to open up. He's never had that before. I guess she's trying to get at me any way she can. Well if she wants to stir up shit, I can give her a double dose.

M.T.

Wednesday 20 September

When I got back after lunch, there was Matt's ute in the yard with ‘P' plates on it. I am so rapt for him. He must feel totally free.

Colin found Frank's wallet on the side of the road near the bus stop today. The cash and credit cards were gone. Frank is so pissed off. When I said it was a funny place to find it, he gave me an accusing look. As if I'd steal anyone's wallet. I've shoplifted before, but that was when I was squatting and starving. Bit different from being a pickpocket.

M.T.

Thursday 21 September

I saw a white bird sitting on the fence line this afternoon. It had talons and a hooked beak like it was an eagle. I told Matt about it and his eyes danced. He told me it was a grey goshawk. The settlers who first moved here saw some and thought they were falcons. So that's why they named the district Falcon Ridge.

He reckoned the goshawk must have been looking for mice or lizards. Matt is amazing. He knows heaps about birds. The more I get to know him the more I'm convinced he's not stupid. Even though his dad thinks he is. Matt's an expert at a few things like cricket and footy and birds and milking cows. Everything else, like people and the way they behave, just doesn't matter to him.

I wish I could be like that. But injustices really get to me. The way people treat others, how they bully them and get away with it. That shits me. I don't know how Matt drifts through life not worrying about it.

M.T.

Friday 22 September

We're friends again. The whole thing was a big misunderstanding. Emma was embarrassed because I went mental at Frank. Said her mum went sick about her evil friend. (That's me) Evil friend? Where does the Brolga get off ? She's so uptight about everything. Emma reckons she even freaks out if she sees tampons in the bathroom. I said, imagine if she found a used one. Emma nearly died laughing.

Emma said that since Frank lost his wallet and there was money missing from Colin's ute I was a suspect, because I'd been seen around the far side of the house. I told her I was avoiding those Durong Footy Club dickheads. Frank probably lost his wallet in the grass when he was staggering around fighting. I reckon one of the gatecrashers snatched it and tossed it out of the car on their way home.

I made sure I went outside after dinner last night, so if Mum phoned I wouldn't be around. Good move! She did ring, and Aunty Jane told her I was having a shower. I wish she'd just leave me alone. She's trying hard to convince Aunty Jane that she cares about me. The thing is, she never bothered to care before. If she had, I wouldn't have run away. I'm thinking of making a big spell, something to cover my scent. I've started collecting the right ingredients, which I think should include lots of things that stink. A dead rat even?

M.T.

Saturday 23 September

We met at the shack again last night and decided to call ourselves the Castlebrook Club, because the shack's on the Castlebrook ridge. CC for short. We did another séance but Elaine didn't talk. This time there was some old bloke called Bert. He warned us about evil in the place. Meredith was really freaked out and wanted to stop. Emma called her a wimp. We kept going but it didn't make any sense after that, numbers and letters all jumbled. Someone must have been forcing the glass. This time it was me who broke the circle because I was so annoyed. We played 500 and polished off a bottle of Bundy that Loody brought round.

M.T.

Part four lies at the Mount of Mercury
Search in soil, not real bounds.

NINETEEN

It was Monday recess and Adam and Snake made their way to the basketball court after declining another invitation to have a hit of cricket. Snake dribbled the basketball as they walked, periodically losing the rhythm and having to restart the bounce or rein in the wayward ball. He listened to Adam's story about how he'd escaped from Colin in the paddock.

‘I'm sure he was about to garrotte me with the brake cable,' Adam said.

Snake bent over laughing. ‘You dickhead! He's only after bardy grubs.'

‘Bardy grubs?'

‘Yeah, for bait. Big fat bastards. No fish can resist, especially cod,' Snake said. ‘You screw them out with the coil end of the cable, like an auger.'

They reached the court and Snake ran towards the key for a lay up. Bwack, bwack, smash! The ball angled off the backboard. Adam scooped it clear of Snake's reach and took aim. He missed too.

‘Screw them out of where?' Adam said, catching the rebound and shooting again.

‘The dirt. They live in the soil under old gum trees. No wonder he wanted you to piss off. You were probably sniffing around his prime site.' This time Snake had the ball. He attempted another lay up, which by some fluke succeeded. He punched the air and Adam took up the ball.

‘And the shovel?'

‘You skim off the topsoil to find their tunnels, poke the cable down and twist.' He jerked his arm up, pulling an imaginary grub from the ground.

Adam shot for goal but the ball bounced clear. ‘Basketball sucks,' he said. ‘Can't shoot straight.'