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‘We’ll probably have to interview you formally,’ Daniels said gruffly. ‘We’ve got a mess here to clean up.’

Baxter had reached the end of his rope. ‘Look, Inspector, as far as I’m concerned, you can take the credit for the whole caboose. Leave me and the others right out of it. You can say that, acting on information received, the police rescued Detective Sergeant Latham. In the ensuing struggle, three of the drug gang were killed.’

Daniels raised his eyebrows, considering this. ‘I’d have to talk to the top brass.’

‘Then talk to them. I won’t contradict you.’

Lewis was glancing between them, looking a bit harried. ‘I’d best get home to Jane and the kids,’ he said. ‘She’ll be worried sick.’

Baxter nodded. ‘And I’ve got a big dog who’s probably missing me.’

‘I’ll be in touch,’ Daniels called after them.

‘Not too soon, I hope,’ Baxter muttered as he and Lewis left the cabin.

The three dead men were still lying where they’d fallen. Baxter hoped they were the last drug smugglers he ever had to deal with.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Detective Sergeant Ian Latham was sitting up in his hospital bed when Baxter called to see him. Baxter had waited some days because Julie had told him that after two visits from the police, Latham needed a rest—the first visit had exhausted him, and she’d restricted the second to five minutes.

Latham’s face was a mask of stitches and bandages. His nose had been reset and the cut over his right eye had been stitched. What could be seen of his face relaxed into a grin when Baxter appeared at his bedside and sat down.

‘I’ve been wondering when you’d come,’ Latham said.

‘Julie kept me informed about you. You aren’t a pretty sight. Somebody must have taken a dislike to you,’ Baxter said, returning the detective’s grin.

‘It’s what you can’t see that’s more worrying. I couldn’t piss for days. Blood in the urine. Ever had a catheter stuck in your whatsit?’

Baxter shook his head and winced. ‘Never had that pleasure. I hope everything’s working again.’

‘Yes, but looks like it’s only temporary. They might have to operate again, because that big bugger kicked me and tore something.’

‘He won’t kick anyone else,’ Baxter said.

‘So I’ve been told.’ Latham chuckled dryly. ‘You did a job on those two creeps.’

‘Well, you finished the job when you shot Campanelli.’

‘Blooming miracle. Of course, you’d have probably nailed him, but I couldn’t risk him getting to you with the knife.’

‘You must have kept up your target shooting.’

‘Even with one eye closed he presented as a pretty big target,’ Lathan said with a laugh, ‘and he was quite close up.’

Baxter laughed too, but it was hollow. He was remembering walking into that room and the anger he’d felt at seeing Latham tied up and tortured. ‘So they were hammering you for information?’ Baxter asked, and the detective nodded. ‘How did they tumble to you?’

‘Some cop let it slip to Cross about our man on the inside, so they tumbled to him first. He knew about me, but because he was in such a sensitive position, he didn’t know much about the operation. They would’ve got everything they could from him, then sought me out.’ Latham’s eyes were sad. ‘We’re still
hoping to find him alive, but it’s doubtful. He’s probably at the bottom of the ocean.’

There was a silence as both men contemplated this, and Baxter thought about how easily Latham could have met the same fate.

‘There’s some better news, though,’ the detective said, brightening slightly. ‘Cross is out of the picture—he shot himself yesterday. The police raided Campanelli’s house and found a list of payments he’d made to Cross. That settled his hash.’

Baxter nodded, pleased. After his terse conversation with Inspector Daniels, he’d worried that Cross would never get his comeuppance.

‘They found something else,’ said Latham grimly. ‘An underground room fitted out for kinky sex. Nice fellow, that Campanelli.’

‘Like a snake’s nice,’ Baxter said, and Latham nodded.

Then he looked away and seemed slightly embarrassed. ‘Thanks for what you did, Greg. It was a lucky day for me when I first called on you. My wife wants to kiss you.’

‘Well, there’s not much of
your
face she can kiss, Ian.’

They both laughed.

‘You might not be pretty right now, but I hear you’re an adornment to the police force,’ Baxter said. ‘A little bird tells me you made Inspector.’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ Latham said and smiled. ‘No more undercover jobs for me.’

Baxter didn’t think he’d ever seen the detective look so happy.

‘When you recover, be sure and bring your wife and kids to see me,’ Baxter offered. ‘I’ll cook you something special.’

‘Laura will like that, and I’ve got a young fellow who’s dying to meet you. He wants to learn karate on the strength of what he’s been told about you.’

‘Good for him.’

Latham was looking quite worn out, and Baxter realised they’d been talking a while longer than Julie had recommended.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’d better push off. I was told not to stay too long.’

‘That sounds like Dr Rankin,’ said Latham with a fond smile. ‘She’s been a tower of strength for me from the day I arrived.’ He paused and gave Baxter an assessing look. ‘But how are things with you and her?’

Baxter sighed. ‘We aren’t in a relationship, though I wish we were. I’d like to have kids and I’d like to have them with Julie. It gets me down some days, but I don’t know what I can do to change her mind. I reckon she sees me as a brother.’

‘That’s a bugger.’ Latham’s eyes moved to look over Baxter’s shoulder and then they widened a little. ‘Speak of the devil,’ he muttered under his breath.

Startled, Baxter turned to see Julie standing at the doorway. In her white lab coat and stethoscope, she looked every inch a top doctor. Baxter wondered if she’d overheard anything, but if she had she didn’t let on. She calmly said hello as she walked into the room, then picked up Latham’s chart and perused it.

‘How do you feel today?’ she asked.

‘A lot better. It’s a big relief to be without that catheter.’

‘We’ll give you another couple of days and then have a look inside you.’

‘The sooner the better, Julie. I’m not used to so much bed rest,’ he said gloomily. ‘And I was hoping to be out of here in a week or two.’

‘Well, I’m afraid to say it does seem you’ll need a second operation to have a look at your kidneys. Better to get all the nasty stuff done in one fell swoop while you’re here. You can have a good long rest after that.’ She paused and half-smiled, giving both men a mysterious look. ‘But you’ll be relieved to hear that it’s not all bad news.’

‘Oh?’ said Latham.

Her eyes gleamed with excitement. She glanced from Latham to Baxter and back to Latham, her professional mask slipping. ‘I’ve just heard that a couple of the top brass will be coming to see you, Ian,’ she announced, beaming down at her patient. ‘You’ll probably get some kind of commendation.’

‘It’s Greg here who should be getting the commendation,’ Latham said, nodding to Baxter, who ducked his head in embarrassment.

‘The only publicity I want is for my book,’ he said. ‘And if I deserve a commendation, so does Julie.’

She laughed delightedly. ‘Thanks Greg.’ She met his gaze and looked as though she wanted to tell him something important, but then her face closed off again. ‘And now I must go. You’re an important patient, Ian, but I do have others.’

‘Be seeing you,
Doctor
Rankin,’ Latham said. He essayed a big smile but the bandages made a mess of it.

‘Keep smiling,
Inspector
.’ She grinned. ‘And see you, Greg. I’ll keep you updated on the patient’s status.’ She took a final look at Latham’s chart and left the room.

By what seemed mutual silent agreement, neither man brought her up again.

‘I hear you’re making a very generous gesture,’ Latham said. ‘Inspector Daniels told me that you don’t want any public mention of your part in recovering me.’

‘That’s right. Much better that the police take all the credit. It’s your job to tackle the drug pushers—and after all the time, effort and money you put in, you’re entitled to reap what rewards are to be had from coups like the Campanelli business.’

‘The media would make a hero of you if they knew the full story.’

‘Then let’s hope nobody leaks the full story. The fight against drugs goes on, but I hope I’m well and truly out of it.’ Baxter smiled at Latham and got to his feet. ‘Be seeing you, Ian—and don’t forget about my invitation. I’m going home to have a fish. There’s something remarkably calming about watching a line.’

‘Be seeing you, champ.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Now that the drug grubs had been dealt with, Baxter decided to take a trip up to Rockhampton to visit Liz and their son.

He mentioned his travel plans to his mother, but as he still hadn’t told her about her grandchild, he gave her the half-truth that he was going to visit an old friend who’d moved to Queensland from Moondilla.

Frances’s reaction surprised him. ‘Would you like me to come with you?’ she asked. ‘I could share the driving and keep you company.’

‘Could the restaurant get along okay for a week without you?’ he asked.

‘Quite. My assistant Henry could look after it very well and he enjoys being the boss cocky. Good experience for him.’

Good old Mum
, Baxter thought. She was always there when needed. Well, she’d get her reward when they got to Liz Drew’s property. He had been trying to work out how he could surprise her with the baby, and his mother had supplied the answer.

Baxter decided to bring Chief, who could sleep in the car and have his food packed in an Esky. Julie said she’d keep an eye on Riverview and water the vegetables and herbs, and the Lewis family volunteered to help out too, so that eased his mind.

He said to Julie that he’d keep in touch, but she told him to take a complete break from everything in Moondilla—he needed it. ‘Try to forget about Campanelli and his sidekicks,’ she said. ‘Doctor’s orders.’

•

Baxter drove north to Sydney, picked up his mother and set out for Rockhampton.

‘If I was a magician, I’d turn you into my girlfriend and life would be just wonderful,’ he said, as they zoomed up the highway. ‘It would solve a lot of problems.’

His mother burst out laughing. ‘For you, but maybe not for me! I like you as a son—I might not like you as my boyfriend.’ She patted his hand. ‘I wouldn’t give up on Julie. Something tells me that she’s about to make a big decision.’

‘Really? What gives you that idea?’ he asked.

‘I rang her and she told me that she’ll miss you, and that it
would be the first week since you ran into her in Moondilla in which she won’t be able to visit you. I call that
distinctly
promising.’

To Baxter this didn’t sound all that significant, but he still felt warm at the thought of Julie missing him.

‘About time too,’ Frances added. ‘She hasn’t got all that many years left to have babies.’

He grimaced. ‘Mum—’

‘So, tell me more about this mysterious friend of yours in Rockhampton. A man or a woman?’

Baxter thought that the less said, the better. ‘A woman. Liz Drew. She left Moondilla after her husband died. She owns a cattle property and has a baby. You never met her. She used to be with a country and western group. Very attractive woman.’

‘Hmm,’ said Frances. ‘Another fish that got out of your net.’

•

Liz’s property was well out in the bush, more than an hour’s drive from Rockhampton. Her cattle were predominately Brahman or Brahman cross, and a point of interest for Baxter: after living in New South Wales it was a new experience to see so many cattle with pronounced humps. He’d been told that Brahmans had a high tolerance for ticks and weren’t so much affected by heat as the British and European breeds—they would continue grazing when the other breeds looked for shade.

The homestead was massive, its verandahs so long that they seemed to merge into the horizon. There were at least a dozen
outbuildings and the whole complex bore the appearance of a small village rather than a family home.

The heat hit mother and son as they stepped from the air-conditioned car. A cavernous shed with a yawning entrance promised some relief, so they got back in the car and drove into it. Frances was fanning her face with a magazine.

Baxter poured water from a canvas bag into a bowl and put it beside the car. ‘Stay here, Chief,’ he ordered the German Shepherd.

As he and his mother walked out into the blinding sunlight and heat, they almost collided with a young woman who had materialised from somewhere in the maze of buildings. She was a tall, slim woman in riding gear, and she carried a coiled red hide stockwhip in her right hand. Baxter reckoned that at a distance she’d almost pass for a young man—as Julie often did—with her slim figure and dark hair jammed under a white, very broad-brimmed Akubra.

‘Can I help you?’ she asked with a certain wariness in her voice. It was a softer voice than her appearance suggested it might be.

‘I’m looking for Mrs Drew,’ Baxter said.

‘Liz is in town. She took the baby in for him to have another needle. She said if anyone turned up, she’d be as quick as she could manage it.’

‘How is he?’ Baxter asked.

‘He’s a bonzer baby.’ The woman gave him a once-over. ‘I know who you are: you’re Greg Baxter, aren’t you?’

‘Am I?’

She smiled and shook his hand. ‘I reckon there’s probably not two men in the country who look like you. Liz told me all about you.’

‘She did, eh.’ He worried the woman might make a comment about the baby, but instead she turned to smile at Frances. ‘This is my mother . . . Mrs Baxter.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Baxter,’ she said, and the women shook hands. ‘I’m Pat. Pat Collins. I’m Liz’s cousin. I managed the place while she was down south.’

Pat was probably in her late thirties. Her eyes were grey and there were tiny lines beneath them. Her figure was lean, like a length of whipcord. She had small high breasts that betrayed her otherwise boyish figure.