Seven months earlier
MINE SITE
March 11th, later
After almost two hours, we reach a mine site. So, we were right, there was one nearby, closer than last time. We pass squat, makeshift buildings, a security gate, sorting belts and lots of vehicles, all with mine-site flags. No shade, no trees, no green at all, just the huge mining hole and piles of dirt; it’s a scene from the apocalypse, or as if a giant has torn the place apart and left the land gaping. It must be hot as hell here when the sun is high.
The one-room police station is next to the one-room medical centre. Detective Inspector Braithwaite and Detective Sergeant Manikham make me wait at a plastic table, on a plastic chair, while they make some calls. I can imagine the kinds of things they’re saying, as they call down to the headquarters in Perth, or wherever. It must be a big deal for these coppers up here. A missing person. A single female, alone on an unregistered property. A mystery to solve. Something that’s not mining-related.
They take ages, and it’s sweltering; my legs are sticking to the plastic. The air-con unit is not much help, slowing down and speeding up erratically. I rest my head on the table and shut my eyes, thinking about you. I imagine where you could have gone. You told me you wanted to go further north to the islands at the top of this state: the last wilderness, you called them.
A person who doesn’t want to be found could hide there.
Crocs and snakes and stowaways.
I wonder if I’ll see those islands, one day. It’s impossible, I think.
If I tell the police anything, I’ll say you went far south. Who else have they got to believe, after all? And it might buy us more time.