I hadn’t thought about it, but this was basically an English country, the same legal procedures. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Then you’ll tell the Coroner. You’ll testify it was dangerous and that was why Daddy wouldn’t let anybody down there?’ She was living the scene in her imagination, her voice low. ‘It was an accident.’ I didn’t say anything and she stubbed out her cigarette and got to her feet. ‘I’d forgotten for a moment that you were a mining consultant. That makes a difference.’
‘Well, naturally. It’s an expert opinion and they’ll accept that.’
She was moving past me then, out on to the verandah, but I caught hold of her shoulders. ‘Janet. What was it you came to tell me?’
‘Nothing.’ I could feel her trembling.
‘You said you had to tell somebody.’
‘Did I?’ Her voice was blank. ‘Well if I did, I’ve forgotten what it was. I think I just wanted to talk to you.’
She was lying. I knew that. But I couldn’t force it out of her and I let her go. I was too physically exhausted to care very much. But back in that narrow bed, with the lumps of the mattress all in the wrong places, I was nagged by the things Westrop had said, her father’s behaviour, and the thought that he might have seen them going into the old shearing shed. But clarity of thought was beyond me and, with my mind still groping for a reasonable explanation, I drifted off to sleep.
Andie woke me a little after one. The Grafton Downs men had arrived. Ed Garretty had given them an account of what had happened, but they wanted a briefing from me. There were seven of them, only three of them miners, and I had to tell them I didn’t think there was a hope in hell of their getting any further into the mine than we had, let alone find Westrop or the other two alive. ‘My guess is it’s a total collapse from the second level down.’
‘At least we must try to recover the bodies,’ the Clerk said.
‘But not at the risk of any more lives,’ I told nun.
The big Dutch foreman looked across at Ed Garrety, sitting bewildered and uneasy, the Alsatian at his feet. ‘You agree with that?’
‘Yes, of course. You mustn’t take any chances.’
‘No, vat I mean is, do you agree with your friend’s assessment of the situation?’
He hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’
‘Okay. Then ve go.’
They finished their beers and got to their feet. Ed Garrety remained where he was. He seemed dazed and I wondered how he must feel with half the world attempting to break into his mine.
‘Anything we can do?’ one of the station owners asked.
The Dutchman shook his head. ‘From vat I hear there will be only room for one or two of us at a time. And it vill be very slow.’
He was right there. Kennie and I went down shortly after midday. They had shifted about ten tons of rubble, working on their hands and knees, and they were rapidly losing heart, even though Mt Newman had sent half a dozen volunteers. They had all of them been up the gully. They had seen how the old workings had become gaping pits. They had looked down the shaft, too, and they knew it was hopeless. The only thing that kept them going was the thought that Westrop and his companions might have been caught before they had gone any distance into the second level gallery.
We took our turn, but it was a gesture only. We had no hope of achieving anything. It was back-breaking work, the air was thick with dust and no room to move. As soon as we had finished our stint we went back up into the open air. Hot though it was, it still seemed wonderfully fresh after that narrow tunnel.
By the time we had got back to the homestead it was already dark and the local constable had arrived. He was with Ed Garrety, taking a statement. He took one from me, too, writing it all out laboriously in longhand, and when he finished, he went into Ed Garrety’s den to make his report on the radio. He was back a few minutes later with the news that the aborigine, Wolli, was alive. He had been found wandering in a state of exhaustion in the Mindy Mindy Creek area some 40 miles to the northeast. I remember the look on Ed Garrety’s face as the constable told us — a sort of shocked disbelief.
Janet saw it, too. She was staring at him, her mouth open, her eyes suddenly very wide. ‘If Wolli’s alive, then perhaps the others are, too.’
But there was no answering gleam of hope in her father’s eyes.
‘Hal Benton found him,’ the constable said. ‘He’s taking him into Nullagine now. He should be there in about an hour.’
We had some food and shortly after nine the constable went back to the radio. He was gone about ten minutes and when he returned his sun-crinkled face was grave. Benton had questioned Wolli on the drive to Nullagine and as a result he was able to confirm that Phil Westrop and Lenny Fisher had entered the tunnel by the old shearing shed entrance at least half an hour before the mine collapsed. They had left Wolli above ground, telling him to stay with their vehicle, which he had done until the noise of the disaster scared him and he had taken to the bush in panic.
There was no longer any doubt in our minds — both the men had had time to penetrate so deep into the mine that they would have been buried instantly. ‘No good risking our necks for nothing.’ Nobody said anything. We were all too shocked. Ed Garrety’s eyes were closed, his face grey and beaded with sweat. I thought for a moment he was going to pass out, he looked so bad. But then the heavy lids flicked back, the blue eyes staring. ‘Yes,’ he murmured, ‘there mustn’t be any more deaths.’
The constable nodded, standing there waiting. I think he was expecting Ed Garrety to go with him. But when nobody moved, he nodded again and ducked quickly through the flyscreen, disappearing into the night. A moment later we heard the engine of his Land-Rover.
A silence settled on the room, broken by Janet saying in a deliberately practical voice, ‘Well, there’s Cleo and the horses to see to, and the chickens — would somebody care to give me a hand?’ Kennie was on his feet in an instant. I watched them as they went out together and when I turned back to Ed Garrety, only the Alsatian was still there. His chair was empty.
I leaned back, closing my eyes and thinking of Westrop and the rumours surrounding his uncle’s disappearance. I must have dozed off, for the next thing I knew was Janet was standing there saying her father would like a word with me. ‘You’ll find him in his den.’ And she added as I got to my feet, ‘It’s upset him and he’s — not quite himself, see.’
I found him sitting at his desk with a glass in his hand and an old plan of the underground workings spread out in front of him. He looked up as I opened the door, his face flushed, his eyes too bright. ‘Come in Alec. Come in.’ I could smell the whisky before I had even seen the half-empty bottle. ‘Like a drink?’ He didn’t wait for me to reply, but reached into a drawer for another glass, the neck of the bottle rattling against it as he poured. ‘Now you sit down. Time we had a talk — just the two of us, eh?’ He spoke slowly and with care. He wasn’t drunk, but he had already had enough to make him choose his words with deliberation. ‘I’m told you went down on your own and brought up some samples. Right?’
I nodded, sitting there drinking his whisky and wondering what was coming, why he should choose this of all moments to talk about the reef he had found.
‘And then you hitched a ride to Kalgoorlie. Did you get those samples analysed?’
‘Yes.’ And I told him the result.
He emptied his glass and poured himself more whisky. ‘I don’t usually drink. But tonight…’ He sat there, savouring the taste of it, staring into space. ‘It helps sometimes.’ There was a long pause, and he was looking down at the plan again. ‘It’s the future I have to think about now.’ He tapped the plan with his finger. ‘That’s where I came across the reef. At the third level, 149 yards north of the main gallery. Five men died there and seven were injured and my father closed the mine, not knowing they’d found die reef.’
‘How did you know then?’