Mr Travers. We’re not finished with you. Not by a long chalk.’
CHAPTER 13
Dan
I made myself a cup of coffee while attempting to get my thoughts together. I couldn’t believe what they had accused me of doing! Murder! How could they possibly think that I was a murderer? Just because I happened to be in the vicinity! Shit! Anyone could have done it! Those bastards deserved to die in the worst way possible, but how could those idiots at ASIO think that I was the culprit? I suppose it was their way of getting back at me for the trouble I had caused them. The idiots! Well they were barking up the wrong tree this time.
Sipping at my mug of coffee I made my way upstairs to be greeted by a grim-faced husband and wife.
‘What’s going on Dan?’ asked Clements. ‘Why are ASIO after you?’
I shook my head. ‘They’re not after me. They’re after someone who knocked off a few lowlifes over in Bali. I happened to be over there at the same time. It was a coincidence.’
‘They seemed very sure that you knew something about the matter when they spoke to us earlier.’
‘It’s all bullshit Bob.’
‘But they said that they’ll be back,’ added Ailsa.
‘They can come back all they want,’ I said defensively. ‘I’m innocent.’
‘No Dan,’ Clements shook his head slowly to highlight his comment, ‘they can’t come back. We don’t want them anywhere near our business. The company would be destroyed if immigration looked too closely at what we do here.’
I saw what he was getting at. ‘You don’t want them questioning the staff and checking on their work status.’
‘That’s right,’ he nodded, ‘and that bitch actually threatened to bring in immigration if we didn’t co-operate.’
The Clements’ were caught in a no-win situation because of me, and I could see that there was only one way out. ‘You want me out of here,’ I said quietly.
Bob looked downcast, ‘I’m afraid so Dan.’
I gave the pair a resigned grin. To argue would be futile. Their business was at stake and I realised that they had to do whatever was necessary to ensure its survival, even if it cost me my job.
* * *
On their long trip back to Canberra, the agents discussed Dan, comparing their opinions of the man.
‘Not exactly your James Bond lookalike, is he?’ Pile said.
‘He’s very athletic looking for a man his age.’
‘The surfing no doubt, but he doesn’t look capable of masterminding three elaborate killings much less being able to carry them out successfully.’
‘Ordinary certainly is the word for him, but isn’t that exactly what you want in a deep cover agent.’
‘You’re right.’
‘So, is he or isn’t he?’
‘My gut says no, but all the evidence says yes.’
‘Circumstantial evidence.’
‘Right.’
‘So, is he or isn’t he?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘We need to dig further. There’s a piece of evidence out there somewhere that will solve the enigma of Dan Travers.’
* * *
My last dismissal had taught me to travel light, and so there was little in my cubical to collect, only my personal coffee mug, a photo of Sandy and the kids, and some surfing magazines.
Within minutes I had shaken hands with Bob and Ailsa and was back in my car and heading out into peak hour traffic, unemployed yet again.
Sandy looked up in surprise when I walked in early, and saw the expression on my face. ‘You look like you’ve come back from the pub with no beer,’ she said grimly.
‘I’ve been given the flick by Bob Clements.’
‘Why?’
I took a beer from the fridge before sitting down to relate how my day had begun so well, and ended so badly.
‘Murder!’ gasped Sandy. ‘You’ve been accused of murder?’
‘I haven’t really been accused of anything, but they seem to believe that I’m a likely suspect.’
‘But why you?’
‘I think they’re trying to make trouble for me as a form of payback.’
Sandy nodded. It made sense. ‘What now?’ she asked.
‘I guess I have to go back out there and try to find another job. At least Bob and Ailsa said that they’d give me a good reference. That might help.’
But it didn’t.
Times were difficult and jobs were now much harder to find. After weeks of fruitlessly trying to find employment on my own, and receiving as many rejections as job interviews, I was forced to place myself in the hands of an employment agency.
Here at last I was able to get work, but it was not regular, and it was mainly unskilled manual work, meaning the wages were well below the sums I had been used to receiving in the past. This placed more and more pressure on our already tenuous finances.
One night, after I had settled the children down for the night, I found Sandy sitting at the kitchen table, sobbing with a pile of unpaid bills before her.
I tried to reassure her, but she was fully aware of the size of our growing debts, and was inconsolable. ‘I’ve tried everything I can to plan ahead and to keep us out of trouble but it’s no use Dan. We can’t continue like this.’
Every effort had been made to cut down on our spending, and I hadn’t gone near the surf since losing my job in an effort to save on our petrol costs.
I took a deep breath. ‘What else can we do? What else can we cut out?’
She looked up at me, her mind made up. ‘There’s only one thing we can do Dan. We have to sell up and move out. We simply can’t afford to stay here any longer. The mortgage payments are killing us.’
‘But you love the place Sandy. It means everything to you.’
‘It has to be done,’ she said in a tone of utter desperation. ‘If we don’t do it now, then it will be too late, and the bank will take it all.’
‘Where will we go?’
‘I don’t know.’
I placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to sound confident. ‘Don’t worry love, something will turn up. It always does.’
‘In the dream world you live in it might,’ she said crossly, ‘but I’ve done the calculations and there’s not going to be anything left after we sell up. We can’t afford to remain in Sydney. Not unless you manage to get another full-time position.’
‘Even I can’t guarantee that will happen any time soon.’
‘I know. That’s why I was on the phone before tea. I was speaking to Mum. She thinks she can convince Dad to put you on.’
I was silent for a time. Working at Rocky Creek Station was something that I had been avoiding ever since the offer was first made to me on the day I married Sandy. I had always used the excuse that I wanted to be close to the surf, but the real reason was that I had never wanted to be the low man on the totem pole, taking orders not only from Sandy’s father Peter McDonald, but also her brother Bruce.
But now Sandy was right, there was no other way