Vanishing Point (27 page)

‘Please, I beg of you Karl. For the sake of the children. Enough.'

‘Beg, bitch.' This feeling of power was just too much for him to let go.

‘Please, Karl. I beg of you. Let the children go and I'll do what you want.'

Karl knew what he wanted, but he still didn't want to risk alienating Benjamin. Better to get his revenge on women by humiliating this one. That way he'd keep his power without upsetting the absent Benjamin.

‘Okay, ya beg real good, bitch. Anyways, I need the collar for me dog.'

As Katherine stood and started to remove it he grabbed both her wrists. Karl's sense of power was overwhelming. He was very reluctant to let it wane. As long as she wore the collar he felt he controlled her. He hissed through his teeth, ‘Not so fast, bitch. First ya gotta earn it. Ya know, reward, like them carrots an' sticks. Do me a dance.'

Karl was remembering a recent visit he made to Kalgoorlie.

He had visited one of the pubs where scantily clad waitresses, so-called ‘skimpies,' served beer. He noticed that some of them gave a quick flash of their naked breasts to some patrons but he had not been included. In drunken desire he had stumbled forward and clumsily tried to force one of the girls to expose themselves for him but was rudely rebuffed and thrown out of the pub. Katherine was incredulous. ‘Dance? What do you mean, dance? There's no music. I can't dance.'

‘Oh, yeah, yes ya can. Ya can sing too, an' make the music. Jist git ya gear off. Show us them big tits a yours like them girls do in Kal. Let's have a bitta fun, eh?'

‘I can't. Benjamin will —'

‘Shuddup, bitch. I ain't scared of Benjamin. I'se in charge now, ya'll fuckin' well do as I ask. If I says jump, ya don't argue, ya jist say, ‘how high'. Gottit? No, git ya fuckin' gear off ya fuckin' bitch and dance or …' he gave a meaningful look at his dog. ‘Then, an' only then, I gets me collar for me other dog. So hurry up, ‘fore I make ya, woman.'

Carolyn and Isaac had fled the room and stood on the veranda staring in. Karl took a deliberate step towards the children.

‘Please, Karl, not with the children here. Please,' Katherine begged through her tears.

No woman had ever begged anything from Karl before and he found the experience thrilling. To get her to beg again made him feel even more powerful, more controlling. He wanted more. His mouth extended into a parody of a smile. He pretended to think about it, called his dog over and slowly sat in the lounge chair but said nothing.

Just as Katherine turned and was about to go to the children he shouted at her, ‘Where da ya think ya goin,' bitch? Ya got me collar an' I'm waitin' for me dance, so git movin'. Ya brats kin watch ya too.'

Katherine turned back into the room and with tears of shame and fear she reluctantly pushed the dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. It was a final humiliation.

Karl had fortified his desire with whisky and the power already shown over her. He grinned at her, ‘Yeah, that's good, now I kin see them big tits. Now sing an' dance fa me.'

She did as she was asked, all the time afraid that worse might happen. All the way through the performance Karl grinned while sipping whisky but said nothing other than ordering her to ‘make her tits jiggle' a bit more for him. Katherine could not believe he found this erotic with her unhappy face and voice cracked from crying but then realised it was not meant to be. It was just another way of showing his power over her, humiliating her and making her do as he wanted. She feared it would rouse his feelings to the point of assault. She feared desperately for the children.

He took another swig of liquor and gave another order, ‘Dance ‘round the room an' back ‘ere, then I'll take it orf'.

She did as he asked and returned, panting. The tightness of the collar constricted her breathing and her face glowed red above her swollen neck. Karl sat and watched while taking copious swigs from the bottle. The children cowered outside the door. Carolyn was wide-eyed with what was happening while Isaac just sat holding his sister's hand tightly.

Karl thought, ‘Wish I ‘ad a leash, lead the bitch aroun' a bit. Show the bitch who's boss.' Aloud he said, ‘An' agin, bitch, youse din't go fasht nuff, an' skip more this time.'

She tried and returned exhausted, slumped to her knees and panted.

Karl removed the collar and left the room. As he walked to his vehicle he turned to the prostrate, gasping form of Katherine and shouted, ‘I'll be back tonight, bitch. Lock the gate then go clean yaself, youse all dirty.'

Once the sound of Karl's vehicle faded Katherine went to her children. Carolyn's questions were constant, difficult to answer and penetrating. Isaac stayed quiet. His eyes were wide. Katherine held them and tried to reassure them. Inside, she was terrified for their futures.

She wanted to kill Karl. But his superior strength would make that almost impossible. There was nothing in the equipment shed that she could use as a weapon. In the kitchen area there were small knives. She was tempted but she could not conceal one in her clothing. It could also be easily turned against her. Her only hope to overcome his superior strength would be through cunning. But how?

W
inter found Petri back in the remote goldfields on the edges of the Great Victorian Desert of WA. He had eliminated most of his proposed test sites and the Spex program was now in the final stages of selecting the best area for an extraction test.

Petri was leaning over the bonnet of his vehicle, inspecting a map, when a ute pulled up in a cloud of dust.

‘Ya right, mate?' asked the driver, loud enough to be heard above the incessant barking of the black mongrel chained on the tray.

Petri replied, ‘Yeah, thanks. Just trying to work out where this goes.' He pointed to the rough track leading into the scrub, and lifting the map for the stranger to see.

As the driver got out of the car Petri noticed a rifle clipped in behind the seats. ‘Well, I kin help ya there. Bin ‘round these parts fa years. I'm a dogger, huntin' ferals, dogs an' other vermin. Wadda ya wanna know?'

Petri politely tried to account for his presence without going into details or becoming too technical. He explained he was an exploration geologist and needed to collect samples over a wide area. Very few, if any, might lead to more detailed exploration and even fewer may lead to the development of a mine.

When he heard this, the dogger became very cool in his responses.

‘I don' want no exploration companies wanderin' round this country. Sure as hell don' want no mines.' The dogger casually leant against Petri's vehicle. ‘Best go back,' he said. There was something threatening in his voice.

Petri was cautious. ‘As I explained, the chance of a mine resulting from the sampling is really very small.'

‘Don' care how small. Jist aint gunna happen. I reckon ya move on, mate.'

‘But I need to test that creek. Here, look at the map.'

The dogger didn't bother. ‘Listen, mate. That old station and well was abandoned back in the 50's. I use it fa storage area me supplies an' pelts.'

‘What about this one? It leads off your track.' Petri pointed to the map.

‘Nope. Goes ta a old well CSIRO drilled it for local Abos fa fresh water. Din't work. An' they all pissed off.'

Petri didn't want to antagonise him but he'd come too far to miss this important sampling site. ‘It's important that we get all the information we can. Once we have that we can make decisions. It may never come to detailed exploration or mining, but we have to know the facts before we can decide.'

These explanations made no difference. ‘It's quiet, an' far away. I like it that way. I only use it coupla times a year and I don' want people turnin' it into a fuckin' freeway.'

Petri gently tried to point out that the whole area was on Crown Land and, as a geologist, he had all of the appropriate permits for exploring. He had every right to travel freely in search of samples.

The dogger heard him out but his response indicated that it made little impact. ‘Makes no fuckin' difference ‘round ‘ere, mate. Law's a long way ‘way an' we don' like strangers pokin' about. Ya'd be better headin' off down that way, back to Kal.

This track goes no-where ‘cept the old well, coupla humpies an' me camp while I hunt them bloody dogs.'

The way he emphasised ‘my camp' made Petri feel like a very unwelcome trespasser. Better to collect samples slightly further downstream without upsetting the old bugger. Petri pretended to accept his advice. He rolled up his map and climbed into his vehicle. He leaned out of the window as he started the engine. ‘Thanks for your help. I'll see if I can find another way.' He thought he might just turn back if the dogger drove away. However, in the rear-view mirror he saw that he was watched until the ubiquitous dust trail obscured his vision.

A few kilometres further on he pulled over and looked back. No sign of dust from a following vehicle. He needed to think. He turned off the engine and picked up the aerial photographs.

Although out of date by several years they clearly showed a track leading to a cluster of buildings only about 500 metres from where the old drainage should pass. These were obviously the buildings that had once formed the core of the CSIRO Research Station. Yet the grizzled, short-tempered dogger had said that there were no permanent settlements in the area. His claim that the old station was used only as a storage depot seemed strange for such a large set up. In addition, the Cundeelee mob indicated it was still in use by a beekeeper, confirmed by Petri's visit to the Department of Agriculture in Perth. It just didn't add up. According to the dogger the other track led to the abandoned well. Like most attempts at finding fresh water in this part of the Great Victoria Desert, it was likely that it had produced only saline water, no good for plants, beast or man. However, Petri knew that the well at the station was unusual in that it had provided water that was at least drinkable.

He studied the aerial photographs closely. The best place to sample would be to follow the ‘forbidden' track for ten kilometres after it left the main track. It was unusual to find such a hostile person in this extremely remote area. Chance meetings, because so rare, were usually cordial. In the outback people recognised mutual interdependency. Petri wondered if the dogger also kept bees, remembering what he had been told at Cundeelee, or if there was someone else at the old CSIRO station. None of this made sense.

Petri studied the photograph more closely. Even taking into account the age of his maps and photographs, it was quite clear the track had not been abandoned years ago. Petri knew tyre tracks that flattened spinifex and delicate shrubs in virgin desert took years for the scars too heal. But this track showed no sign of recovery. If abandoned years ago, it would not be as clear as it now appeared. It had to be in more constant use. The dogger's comments did not make sense and the track was undoubtedly the best route for accessing the sampling site. So why did the dogger warn him off so emphatically?

The cluster of buildings at the end of the track also indicated something more substantial than a couple of humpies. Apart from the larger structure, which looked like a house and a large tank on a platform, there was a rectangular patch, cleared of vegetation, and what appeared to be a perimeter fence. There were two smaller buildings that could be sheds and what looked like a paved area.

It was decision time. Was the risk of the running into the dogger worth it? Perhaps he should head back to Kalgoorlie and find more information about the place. Petri just wasn't sure. He didn't want to delay the program, but he couldn't forget the rifle in the back of the stranger's ute. From where he was he could drive straight through to Kalgoorlie and be there in a few hours. With luck he'd find a seat on the MMA plane in the morning. He'd be in Perth within two days.

Petri decided to stop where he was until dusk and then return to see where the track led. He boiled a billy and, after tea, rested in the shade of the vehicle. He thought about the mysterious dogger. What were the old buildings being used for and why had he been warned off? He had to admit that there was something alluring about his secretive reconnaissance visit. Perhaps it was a little like his father had felt, escaping from Finland.

* * *

Karl Brudos watched the strange looking Toyota until the dust settled before climbing back into his own vehicle.

‘Bloody sticky beakin' strangers,' he mumbled to himself as he slammed the door shut. Karl started the engine and headed into the track that, only a short time ago, he told Petri he used only rarely.

Towards dusk he pulled up at the locked gates, hooted and waited. The dog barked and paced from side to side in the tray, the chain preventing him from leaping off. From the central building Katherine and Carolyn, both bare-footed, came running. Isaac, wearing only a singlet, followed.