Black Mountain Affair

Chapter One
‘You might think this is a beautiful place people, but don’t let the looks trick
you. Those rocks are full of fear and death.’ Bobby Gumtree (fake surname) pushed
a battered akubra back on his silver haired head and wiped sweat from his brow.
Bobby ran “Bobby’s Aboriginal Tours” out of Cooktown in Australia’s Far North
Queensland. He and his tour group, consisting of two families with sunburnt parents,
bored teenagers and over adventurous 7 and 9 year olds, stood on a timber platform
overlooking part of Black Mountain at its western base.
‘You don’t want to go climbing about on those huge boulders,’ Bobby
continued. ‘There are crevasses and caves and holes all over the place that drop way
down into the darkness of the earth where you’d never be found again. And if the fall
didn’t kill you, the giant amethystine python would slide down through the blackness
and crush the life out of what was left before devouring you, bones and all.’ The
teenagers were now mildly interested.
‘Bobby! Really. I don’t think that’s quite appropriate.’ Margaret Quinn
gathered her 7 year old daughter close.
‘Sorry lady. Just telling the truth. Then there’s the Queensland Tiger that
people have seen around here on moonlight nights. Not a problem for us because it’s
the middle of the day, but here at night he’d hunt you down and have you for dinner.’
Margaret Quinn looked desperately at her husband but he was enjoying the
tales more than the teenagers.
‘And of course we have the ghost bats. Hundreds of them live down there in
those rocks along with all kinds of other bats.’
‘So what’s special about the ghost bats?’ asked one of the teenage girls,
shaking a lock of blond hair from her eyes.
‘Sharp teeth girly. Carnivorous. They fly on gossamer wings and strike
lethally in the blackness.’
‘I hardly think such creatures exist,’ interjected Margaret.
‘Oh yes lady,’ said Bobby seriously. ‘They’re around here all right. You
don’t go wandering off near Black Mountain in the day and especially at night. Full
of evil spirits and the bones of the dead. Just listen for a moment.’
A warm sea breeze stirred the green and golden undergrowth surrounding the
mountainous pile of dark grey rocks towering above them. Soft moaning sounds
came from deep within the rubble. ‘Some say it’s just the wind,’ Bobby said. ‘Others
say it’s the souls of the dead.’
Margaret’s husband, John, stepped to the edge of the timber railing which
surrounded the viewing platform. He turned and faced Bobby. ‘We read all about
these wild tales on the internet at home. You guys have been telling whoppers about
this place for years. It brings in the tourists.’
Bobby pulled the akubra down tight on his elderly head and glanced towards
the sun. ‘Perhaps time to go. We’ve got lots more to see.’
John grinned at his wife and gave a knowing wink. ‘Let’s go kids,’ he called.
‘Bobby has other exciting stuff to show us.’
‘Where’s Beth?’ Janice Price, the other Mum, looked about frantically.
‘Beth!’ she called loudly. Her husband, Jordan, rushed to the platform railing.
‘BETH…. You answer us right now honey!’
Margaret and John did a quick head count on their children. All present.
‘Who saw her last?’ Bobby asked. The concern was obvious in his voice.
‘She was right beside me less than a minute ago,’ said Janice Price, her voice
rising in pitch as hysteria rose within her.
Bobby made a quick inspection from all sides of the viewing platform. The
little girl was no-where to be seen.
‘I’m going to search the rocks,’ said Jordan. ‘She can’t have gone far.’
‘No!’ Bobby’s voice was loud and firm. ‘I’ll search. You all stay here.’ He
looked at Janice. ‘About 8 or 9 with short red hair?’
Janice gripped her husband’s arm. Jordan Price looked at Bobby and nodded.
‘She’s 9.’ Bobby ran back to the stairs leading onto the platform. He knew a little
girl could not have climbed off the platform to the ground. She would have gone
back to the stairs, giving her easy access to the ground beneath. To the right of the
platform was thick scrub. Impassable. To the left was a tiny track worn by resident
animals. Bobby moved quickly down the track. It skirted two massive granite
boulders and went underneath another, into the semi darkness of a cavern. Shards of
sunlight cut through holes between the rocks above. Blackness lay beyond. The
rustling of leathery wings came from the blackness. The unmistakable stench of death
lingered in the stale air.
The little girl stood motionless. Her eyes stared at Bobby, unblinking, full of
fear. Bobby switched on his tiny key ring torch. ‘Beth?’
The girl nodded.
‘You OK missy?’
The girl remained silent.
‘Shouldn’t go wandering off like that missy. Scared the crap out Mum and
Dad.’
Beth kept her eyes fixed on him.
Bobby shone his little torch over the girl. He sucked in his breath when he
saw that her hands and arms were covered with blood. ‘Lord oh Lord! You hurt
yourself?’
Beth shook her head. She slowly turned to the left but then quickly
straightened and stared at Bobby. Her mouth opened but she couldn’t form words.
Bobby’s eyes were now growing accustomed to the semi darkness. Two lumps were
visible on the ground just behind the little girl.
‘OK Beth…. You head on out of here just the way you walked in. Your
parents are waiting for you outside. You understand me darling?’
The red haired girl nodded again. She took hesitating steps towards Bobby,
never taking her eyes off his. She froze as he laid a black, wrinkled hand on her
shoulder, but then grasped it tightly with her tiny, blood stained hands.
‘It’s OK Beth. You just keep going my dear. Your parents are waiting
outside. I’ll have a bit of a look around and be right behind you.’
The tiny fingers refused to release their grip on the large black hand. Bobby
unclasped her fingers and pushed her gently towards the light. Beth walked
unsteadily away from him. He swung the light back into the cavern. The stench of
dead flesh was overpowering. As he moved closer he could see arms, two naked
torsos, legs, two heads….one larger than the other.
Little Beth had tripped over two dead bodies. She had fallen into them, hence
the blood on her hands and arms. Bobby wanted to vomit. He swallowed hard and
looked back at the shards of light indicating the entrance to the cavern. Running from
this sickening death hole would have been logical but he turned his torch back to the
bodies on the ground. Both were female. Both were Aboriginal. There was no
clothing on or near them. Both had suffered horrific physical injuries, probably by a
swinging machete or axe. One was a woman of at least 30 although it was difficult to
tell from the shocking wounds over her body. The other was in her early teens. The
older woman’s head was almost totally severed from her body. Neither had a right
hand. Each right hand had been severed at the wrist. Bobby shone his torch around
frantically. No hands.
Distressed parents were attempting to understand why their stone faced, blood
covered daughter wasn’t talking. Janice Price was hysterical. The teenagers had lost
their detached demeanour and were looking decidedly alarmed. Margaret Quinn was
clinging to her husband and their children had gone into a family huddle.
Bobby strode past the viewing platform without a word and jumped into the
driver’s seat of his four wheel drive tourist van. A mobile phone nestled in his pocket
but was forgotten because of shock. He turned on the two way radio and put the
microphone to his mouth. ‘Lucy….’
A few moments later a bubbly female voice came back. ‘Bobby. How did
you get past the spiders living on that old radio? What happened to your phone?’
‘Lucy. I’m at the Black Mountain lookout. I need help.’
‘You fall down and hurt yourself again old man?’
‘No. There are two bodies here. Two girls both hacked up bad.’
‘God in heaven Bobby!’
‘I need the coppers out here.’
‘OK. OK. Don’t panic. I’ll ring them.’
Bobby dropped the microphone. He turned off his key ring torch and sat back
with his eyes closed. The rest of today’s tour would have to be cancelled. Yes…
Cancelled. No question about that.
“****”
Chapter Two
Inspector Peter Martin covered the 26 kilometre trip from Cooktown to Black
Mountain in record time. He hammered the mud splattered four wheel drive Nissan
Patrol down highway 81, ignoring the occasional warning by his companion, Senior
Constable Binda Spencer, that he may kill them both at any moment. That said
however, Binda, a distant descendent from the local Aboriginal tribe, Kuku Yalanji,
was enjoying the speed and occasionally smiled widely, showing pearly white teeth in
contrast with her dark olive skin.
They came to a sliding halt in a cloud of red dust at the turn off to the Black
Mountain lookout. Minutes later their four wheel drive vehicle pulled up along side
Bobby Gumtree’s tourist van. Inspector Martin pulled on his broad rimmed police hat
and stepped down onto the dry grass. He approached Bobby and the two shook
hands. Binda walked to the front of the police vehicle and stopped. She wasn’t
wearing a hat. She didn’t really need one. Her long black hair was curled up into a
bun and attached to the top of her head with a large brown plastic clip. She rested her
right hand casually on the holstered butt of a Glock 22 pistol, not because she felt
threatened at this time, but more from habit.
The Price and Quinn families remained huddled together under the shade of a
tree near Bobby’s tour vehicle. Little Beth had been washed. The front of her jeans
and tee shirt were also soaked as frantic parents sought to remove all traces of blood.
Beth was standing quite still and made no attempt to answer questions from her
family or anyone else in the party.
‘I think we should get her to the hospital,’ Janice Price was saying to her
husband. ‘Something dreadful has happened to her. Look at her!’
‘She’s not injured from what I can see,’ replied her husband.
‘I don’t care what you can or can’t see Jordan. I want her taken to hospital as
soon as possible!’ Her voice was once again becoming hysterical.
‘What’s going on here Bobby?’ asked Inspector Martin. ‘Something happen
to the little girl?’
‘Just shock.’
‘We heard you found bodies?’
‘Little miss found them first. That’s why she’s like that.’ Bobby waved
vaguely at Beth Price. ‘She wandered off into one of the caverns and tripped over
them. Covered in their blood the poor little thing.’
‘Better show us where they are eh?’ said Peter Martin.
‘I’ll point you to the entrance but no way am I going back in that Kalkajaka,’
Bobby replied.
Binda Spencer moved to Bobby’s side and laid a soft hand on his leathery,
black arm. She looked back at Peter Martin. ‘Kalkajaka is the Aboriginal name for
Black Mountain. It’s also called the mountain of death.’
Inspector Martin looked toward the group of tourists. ‘I’ll have a brief word
with them first. You show us where the bodies are and then take your tourists back to
town. No press Bobby. Not a word of this. You warn your group to say nothing.’
‘They don’t know nothing,’ said Bobby. ‘I didn’t tell them and the little girl
hasn’t said a word since she came out of the cave. I think they better take her to the
hospital.’
‘Alright, but I want Ruth to examine her.’ He turned to Binda ‘You got
Ruth’s number?’
Binda nodded and searched her mobile phone contacts. She clicked on the
contact which read: “Dr. Ruth Cruise. G.P. and Forensic Pathologist.” Ruth
answered immediately. Binda moved away and spoke softly into the phone.
‘Bobby, you recognise the deadens?’ asked Inspector Martin.
‘Didn’t take close enough look boss. Too busy gettin out of there. One’s a
woman and the other a little girl I think. They are both chopped up pretty bad. They
both have lost their right hands.’
‘What?’
Bobby looked back at his group of sombre tourists. He lowered his voice.
‘Both had their right hands cut off boss. Oddest thing I’ve ever seen.’
‘How dark in that cave?’
‘Black as hell itself. Probably full of bats and lord knows where those snakes
are hiding.’
‘I’ll get a torch.’ Peter Martin strode to his Nissan Patrol police vehicle and
opened the rear hatch. He removed a large portable searchlight and indicated for
Bobby to accompany him to the group of tourists. ‘I’m Inspector Peter Martin from
Cooktown police station. I know your trip hasn’t turned out as expected today but
please bear with us for a few more minutes. I’ll have Bobby drive you back to town
soon.’
Janice Price was stroking her daughter’s hair. Her husband Jordan looked
haggard and lost. Janice lifted her eyes to the policeman and gazed at him for a long
moment. ‘Something in that mountain did this to my little girl. She needs help.’
‘I’m having a very experienced Doctor take a look at her at the hospital when
you get back to Cooktown. Her name is Dr. Ruth Cruise. She is extremely good with
children. My partner is arranging it now.’
‘You shouldn’t let people come out here if the mountain is dangerous,’ said
Jordan Price. ‘You should put up signs and stop the blacks doing tours out here.’
Peter Martin took a step towards the diminutive and sunburned Jordan Price.
Jordan took a step backwards. ‘I understand that you have all suffered a bit of a shock
out here today and we are going to have this little girl examined by a Doctor very
soon.’ He looked at the others in the group. ‘Bobby is going to show me where he
found this little girl and I will investigate.’ He fixed his eyes on Jordan Price. ‘These
“blacks” as you call them, were the custodians of this land long before we got here
and this mountain is sacred. It’s also dangerous and that is why we have tour guides
like Bobby, take you to safe viewing locations. He can’t however, be responsible for
all your children as well. That’s your job as parents. Your little girl wandered off.
That’s your responsibility. She’s your kid. I understand Bobby went into that damn
dangerous mountain and got her out.’
‘Ruth’s on her way to the hospital,’ called Binda
Inspector Martin kept his eyes fixed on Jordan Price. ‘Now you all get into
that tourist van and I’ll have Bobby start the motor and put the air conditioning on.
I’ll need Bobby for a little while and when he comes back he’ll drive you to the
hospital and your girl will be seen to. Do you understand me?’
Jordan Price nodded…defeated.
Peter Martin gestured to Bobby to open his van. The small group of visitors
climbed inside without a word. Bobby started the motor and turned on the air
conditioning. The sliding door closed and he headed for the animal track running
beside the viewing platform. The uniformed policeman followed with his partner
close behind.
Bobby stopped as they approached the gaping entrance to the cavern beneath
massive grey boulders. The faint hum of the idling tourist van motor was initially the
only sound they could hear, but this was suddenly replaced by dozens of clicking
sounds which became a roar from the upward direction of thousands of boulders piled
hundreds of metres above them to the mountain’s peaks. The roar softened
momentarily and then increased for several seconds. Suddenly, as if governed by the
downward plunge of a conductor’s wand, the noise ceased altogether.
‘What the hell was that?’ Peter Martin gazed upward, scanning the huge mass
of granite rocks.
‘Frogs,’ said Bobby. ‘Boulder frogs. Thousands of them up there. Must be a
storm on the way.’
‘Then you better get your tourists back to town. The deadens in there?’
Bobby pointed into the cavern with a shaking, outstretched hand. ‘You smell
em boss?’
Peter Martin looked back at Bobby and then to his partner Binda. He turned
on the huge searchlight. Its beam penetrated the darkness beyond. ‘Yeah, I can smell
them. Get your people out of here Bobby….and don’t call me boss.’
“****”
Chapter Three
Inspector Martin entered the cavern with cautious steps. There was no
mistaking the bodies on the ground towards the rear of the labyrinth of black lava
rocks. Binda Spencer had seen dead bodies before, but only a few and never hacked
up like these two. The dead people she had seen before looked asleep. As she moved
closer to these butchered individuals, it was clear from the frozen looks on both faces
that they had died in absolute terror.
Peter Martin slowly shone the search light over each body. He also noted they
were both aboriginal and from his own experience of dead bodies, had probably lain
in the cave for a day or so.
The sound of Bobbies van retreated in the distance but was replaced with soft
fluttering sounds in the darkness of the lofty ceiling. Peter shone his torch upward
and thousands of leathery wings began to beat wildly as the bats were startled by the
brilliant light. He moved the beam down to the cavern floor.
‘We have ourselves a very sickening crime scene Binda. Do you know either
of these girls?’
‘Yes,’ said Binda softly. Glistening tears rolled down her ebony cheeks. The
little one is Koorine Burton. The other is her Mum, Oola. They live out near Hope
Vale but work for Mrs. Jerome down Quarantine Road.’
Peter nodded slowly. ‘They don’t live near Hope Vale any more I’m afraid.
They’ve upset someone quite badly by the look of things.’
‘I can’t understand,’ said Binda in a hushed voice. ‘These two didn’t cause
trouble. They just cleaned for Mrs. Jerome and everyone loved them.’
‘Apparently not everyone,’ said Peter Martin grimly. ‘We’ve compromised
the crime scene to some extent, walking up close to the bodies, as well as that little
girl falling over them, so our next move will be to exit exactly the same way we came
in. Touch nothing. I want Ruth out here as soon as possible. We’re going to need
Harry up from Cairns on this one. Double homicide.’
‘Scientific?’
‘Yep. I’ll call Wal. I want this place photographed top to bottom, especially
the dirt on the floor around the bodies. Then Ruth can do her thing. Can you ring her
again and I’ll get on the mobile to Harry.’
Binda nodded and carefully backed away from the grim scene. Peter Martin
followed, thankful to reach the cavern entrance and the embrace of sunlight and fresh
air. Back at their police vehicle Binda used her mobile phone to call Ruth Cruise.
Peter Martin used his mobile to call the Cairns Detectives office.
The man he wanted answered the phone. ‘Detective Keller.’
‘Harry. It’s Peter Martin. We got two deadens up here at Black Mountain.
Nasty double homicide mate. Very nasty.’
‘Jesus Peter! Lousy timing. The bride’s got stuff planned. She’s going to
spew.’
‘Won’t be the first time. Can you hop a flight today?’
‘You got the offender?’
‘No. We got nothing at the moment. No motive, no suspect, no witnesses and
a little girl fell over the bodies so the crime scene is contaminated to some extent.’
‘Bloody hell Peter. You don’t need me. You need a damn miracle worker.’
‘Can you brief the Regional Crime Coordinator and I’ll get something on the
system by this evening.’
‘Yeah Yeah. Are the deadens white?’
‘No.’
‘Oh perfect. Why couldn’t they have been white? Everyone will be going
ape.’
‘Harry, I need you up here.’
‘OK. OK, but you can call Jolanta and explain why you’re dragging me out of
the dinner party tonight and I’d be wearing bloody ear plugs during that conversation
if I was you.’
‘Alright, I’ll text her.’
‘Like hell you will. You call her. She’s going to cane your arse Peter.’
‘This is a nasty one Harry. I need to move on this quickly.’
Detective Inspector Maurice Keller sucked hard on what was left of the hand
rolled cigarette poking from the end of his cigarette holder. ‘Alright. I’ll get some
stuff together and be right up. I’ll bring Sutcliffe with me. He loves homicides, the
sick bastard.’
‘I’ll be setting up lights at the scene later and clearing out the bats before Wal
and Ruth do their thing.’
‘What bats?
‘The caverns are full of bats and I’m told some of them bite.’
‘I hate those bastards.’
‘You hate everything.’
‘I love the horses.’
‘Only if they win. If they don’t you hate them, their owners, trainers and
especially their riders; with a passion.’
‘OK, I’ll get up there as soon as I can but we are both in huge trouble with the
bride over this.’
‘You get caught betting on the nags in your office again by the Cairns OIC
and I’d lay bets that Jolanta’s temper will be nothing compared to his.’
‘You obviously don’t know my wife as well as I thought you did.’
‘You should have stayed in Brisbane. She hates the heat up here.’
‘But she loves the extra money I earn.’
‘To do what with in Cairns?’
‘She knows everyone in Cairns! I swear I’ve never been to so many parties in
my bloody life.’
‘Ring me when you’re about to take off.’
‘You ring Jolanta right now. OK?’
‘Alright Harry.’ The call was terminated.
‘Why do you call him Harry?’ Binda walked to the passenger side door of the
police vehicle.
‘His family and close friends call him Harry. I have no idea why.’
‘I thought his name was Maurice?’
‘It is, but I would suggest you call him Detective Inspector Keller. He doesn’t
know you all that well.’
‘I met him last year with that deceased in the rain tank. I don’t think he likes
me.’
Peter pointed to the driver’s seat. ‘I need to make some calls. You take us
home.’
Binda moved around the back of the police vehicle and slid behind the
steering wheel. Peter climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door. ‘And
why would you think he doesn’t like you?’
Binda turned the key and the motor roared. She engaged first gear and eased
off the clutch. A cloud of red dust rose as they headed for the highway.
‘Something he said?’ asked Peter.
‘Never looked at me. Never spoke to me. Totally ignored me.’
‘Probably just having one of his days.’
‘Ignored me for 3 whole days.’
‘He gets these moods….’
Binda turned right onto the highway towards Cooktown and stamped her foot
hard on the accelerator pedal.
Bobby Gumtree was waiting outside the Cooktown Hospital. Peter Martin
approached with Binda close behind. ‘How things go here Bobby?’ asked Peter.
‘Doctor Cruise is with the girlie now. That poor kid’s had a dreadful fright.
Dreadful.’
‘And the others?’
‘They say it’s my fault. Say I should have warned them. I did warn them
boss. I couldn’t keep my eyes on every one of them.’
‘My name is Peter. You call me Peter from now on. Got that?’
‘Yes Bo… Yes Peter.’
‘Take them back to their hotel and refund their money. I’ll have the Police
Department reimburse you tomorrow.’
Bobby nodded.
‘This is going to blow up big time but I want to get the experts in before the
media descend. If the little girl talks, then she talks. You say nothing, OK?’
Bobby nodded again.
‘Alright, I’m going to have a chat with Ruth when she’s free. Can you get the
tourists out of here ASAP?’
Bobby looked confused. Binda made a quick hand signal which Peter Martin
didn’t see. ‘Oh sure,’ said Bobby. ‘Like lightning out of here. I get it.’
Dr. Ruth Cruise was the town’s senior resident GP for Cooktown Hospital.
She was also the area Forensic Pathologist. Originally from Melbourne, she had
moved to Cairns and thence to Cooktown following the painful and drawn out
separation and ultimate divorce from a high society neurosurgeon. He claimed she
didn’t fulfil his ‘needs’. She claimed he was a narcissist, obsessional, jerk.
Fortunately they had no children. Ruth’s parents were dead and her only brother lived
somewhere in Europe. She was in her mid 50’s, of medium build and extremely fit
from hours of running on a home treadmill and maintaining a whirlwind work
schedule. She had short cropped blond hair, fair complexion and a freckled covered
nose. In her 30’s and 40’s she was considered stunning, other than by her husband.
Now her beauty had matured into the warm elegance which only age produces. She
should have looked haggard and worn, having spent hundreds of hours at horrific
crime scenes and in air conditioned (and sometimes not air conditioned) morgues.
Her demeanour and beauty defied the odds.
Peter Martin pulled off his hat as he entered the air conditioned hospital. The
Quinn and Price families studied him silently from the waiting area. He glanced at
them briefly and continued to the admissions desk.

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