A vivid dream unsettles a man who believes it is a prologue to something he dreads. The mystery deepens as he and the police, try to unravel facts from nothing, and race to solve it before it ends like the dream.
CHAPTER 1: DUST NEVER SETTLES
The local guardian of the law stopped shuffling papers and looked out the front window. A day that was new with the smell of freshness and warmth, and hopefully no dramas. He needed a week to recuperate from the all too common drink charges and petty larceny that seemed to be an endless cycle. The town looked quiet, even though he knew it was early still. Maybe on the properties surrounding town, they got up early but here in the business center of the district, they kept more conventional hours.
Widdon’s Crossing grew out of necessity in bygone days. Sheep and some cattle were being traded and shipped to markets. The junction of two major highways in the state. Today the pubs were fewer than years back and so was the policing. Just three of them. Jack Grogan came here fifteen years ago from New castle and just stayed. His kids were now grown and his wife of many years still as supportive of his job as when they married.
Hundreds of kilo meters away, a similar story for another officer of the law. His day was going to be better when it was over, or so he thought. Now an inspector, he was due for a holiday and it would start next week. Brendon Casey and his wife Virginia, had booked a tour to the Top End. They had never been to Darwin and the city and surrounding area promised a new experience. The majesty of Kakadu beckoned. Even a brochure was taped to his wall.
Now all that was needed for these two people to be thrust together, was a catalyst. And that catalyst came in the form of a person who awoke that morning, rather early. The cause of his early entry to the day was because of a dream. Not an ordinary dream, but something so pungent, so realistic, that here membered it when awake in every detail. He dismissed it but it didn’t go away. Coffee and his eggs on the veranda still didn’t vanish it. The need to get his property up and active for the day just put it on hold, and when the two staff he had were doing what they needed to do, he sat down to look at the withered grasses and bleating sheep, and it came back still just as vivid.
William Benson ran sheep. Lots of sheep and over many years had built up a respect from the community. He knew that and never used it to his advantage. He accepted people for who they are and it worked both ways. Now he knew he must do something and this might put that respect into doubt. No family now to talk these types of things over, just himself. He picked up the phone and entered the number from the small list on his office desk.
“For you Jack.” The young officer held the instrument out towards him, and the sergeant dropped his gaze from the street and taking the telephone in his hand, answered the caller.
“Hang on William. Lets get this straight. A man is dead or he might not be yet dead and you don’t even know his name or where he is.” There was quietness as he listened and shook his head with a grin.
“Alright. I have these dreams too but usually some reason for them. Anyone else and I would tell them to get sobered up, but not you. Really nothing I can do without something more positive.” A pause whilst an embarrassed man apologized and the conversation seemed to wilt.
“You let me know if you can give me something and I will keep my ears on the bush telegraph and lets hope it was just a dream.” The police officer sat in his chair for a while, thinking about it and how to forget it. But that was hard to do.
Benson was a solid person and never known to flights of irrational thought. Still he could do little without some hard evidence. At lunch break, he phoned Division with the weekly sit rep which was very lean on crime and more a social catch up with his superior in Area Command. Why he mentioned it he never really remembered, but it just came out as something to fill in the time. The Commander sat for a while and tried to collect a thought that included him.
A man who was dead or maybe not dead, yet unknown. This was recently put into his mind, but not by Jack Grogan. He shrugged and poured a coffee. Ashesavoured the break from the paperwork that was mounting day by day, he tried to think of what was eluding him. Then he had a glimmer of recognition. Something that happened down in the Riverina a couple of years back. Someone thought they saw a person’s body and it appeared dead but quick subsequent investigations showed no body to be found and subsequently no missing person to fit the criteria. That was it. Maybe. More on impulse, he phoned Jack back.
“Brendon here. That missing body who may or not be missing is nagging me. There was an incident some time back. That went no where but just the same, use your nose and have sniff about. Might be something. And I’m off to Kakadu in a week with Ginny, so no calls to disturb our long needed holiday after the 17th." Jack Grogan sat and looked out at the street. It was half quiet and a bit of as noop might get his cob webs sorted. He phoned William Benson’s place but got no answer, so leaving instructions with his duty officer, he revvedup the Land Cruiser, and headed out of town.