Black Mountain (15 page)

Mitchell turned his head and shot her a smile. ‘If it really is here, then we have a much better chance of finding it than we had before.'

‘Yes, I'm sure we do.'

Elly put her notes away, and concentrated on the countryside around as they sped along. They were going through the dry savannah land now, and the grass between the trees was dry as the parched earth waited for the wet. Every now and then they crossed a small bridge over a dry, stony creek. From time to time a dusty track branched off the main road, leading where—she had no way of knowing.

Turning a bend, the mountain was closer now, looming black and forbidding, with the scrub growing thickly around it.

Then another bend and suddenly they were there.

Mitchell parked the vehicle on the verge and Elly opened her door and stepped out. Walking around the car she crossed the road with Mitchell beside her, and then stopped. In front of them, stretching away at their feet, was a tumbled mass of granite boulders, like marbles strewn by a raging Devil's hand. And beyond that Black Mountain towered over the surrounding landscape.

Elly gasped. ‘I've never seen anything like this.' She turned to Mitchell. ‘Have you been here before?'

He nodded. ‘I've been this way, yes. It's amazing, isn't it? It's no wonder the Aborigines hold it sacred. I doubt there's anything like it anywhere else on earth.'

‘I wonder how it came to be here.'

‘There are plenty of theories, but no-one really knows.'

Elly stood staring at the mass before her. Up close, many of the boulders were grey rather than black. They ranged in size from footballs to houses, and everything in between, tumbled every which way. Her eyes were drawn to the towering peak, and then back again to the boulders. As her gaze roamed around she was elated to see patches of green dotted here and there among the boulders.

‘Look.' She pointed. ‘There are plants growing in the mountain itself.'

‘I believe they're a type of fig that grows in soil that's lodged in the crevices. I doubt they'd be what we're looking for. I think we'll be better off looking in the surrounding areas. There's a lot of rainforest, as well as the scrub.'

He indicated the nearby trees, and Elly looked around and saw there were much taller and thicker patches of forest nearby.

‘Besides,' he continued, ‘the mountain is honeycombed with caves and tunnels. It really is a dangerous place to go exploring. Many people have disappeared in it and never been found. It's not just superstitious tales, they're properly documented happenings.'

Elly shuddered. ‘It is spooky. I wonder what happened to them.'

Mitchell smiled down at her. ‘Nothing supernatural, I'm sure. I imagine they've fallen into one of the crevices and haven't been able to get out. No-one knows how deep they are. But I've no intention of either of us venturing onto the mountain.' He put his hand on her arm. ‘Besides, your mother would kill me if I let anything happen to you. I promised her I'd take care of you.'

His eyes were warm and concerned and … something else. She turned away quickly. He was in love with Fancy Pants. Forget any romantic ideas about him. Business, remember?

‘I guess we'd better start looking for a camp site.'

‘I guess we'd better,' he agreed, and they headed back to the car.

As camping was not allowed in the national park itself they had to go further afield, and it took them a couple of hours to find a site that satisfied Mitchell. In a natural clearing, it was surrounded by bushland, with a view of the mountain beyond the trees, and a small fresh water lagoon nearby.

The lagoon was fringed with a tangle of greenery, with fan palms flaunting their large circular leaves standing proud amongst their less flamboyant cousins. Small stones, many polished smooth by the aeons of water that had regularly covered them, lay on its gently sloping edges, and showed how far the water had receded during the dry. But there was still plenty of water left to attract the myriad of birds that inhabited the area, and their calls floated across the clearing. And the lagoon was deep enough for them to use for swimming and cooling off, a welcoming thought in the heat.

Elly was anxious to start their search, and as there was still a few hours of daylight left they drove back to the edge of the rainforest, where they parked and walked into the forest. They'd decided to start alongside the edge of the mountain and work their way outwards from there. Once inside the forest they split up, as usual, staying within cooee call of each other, and began their methodical search.

Chapter 24

Jackson Lee was ensconced in a cabin in one of the local caravan parks in Cooktown. As well as catering to tourists it was home to several permanent dwellers, including a few men who lived alone, who drew their pension regularly every fortnight and divided their time between the pub and the occasional spot of fishing. He was younger than most of them, but they were an incurious lot and accepted his story that he had been in an accident and was here to recuperate, and to write a book about the gold rush back in the early days of Cooktown's history.

But he was bored, and when he had a phone call from Greg to say he had another job for him, it was a relief.

‘So what is it this time?' he asked. ‘I hope you don't want me to go back to Cairns again.'

‘No, it's not in Cairns, although that went off without a hitch, didn't it?'

‘Yes, sure, but—'

‘Anyway, it's right where you are, in Cooktown. Or nearby, more exactly.'

‘So what is it?'

‘Just a bit of surveillance. Beth Cooper's hired a guy called Mitchell Beaumont to try and find a certain plant that she believes grows somewhere up near there, and I want you to watch him and when he finds it, you take note of where it is and tell me. Then I'll come up and you can show me where it is, and you can get ready to go back home.'

Jackson was cautious. ‘I suppose this is to do with Elly's father and his work?'

‘Yes, but you don't need to worry about that, you just have to watch Beaumont and tell me when he locates the tree, and exactly where it is. He drives a Toyota Land Cruiser and I have the registration number for you. '

‘And how am I supposed to find him? Drive around Cooktown until I spot his vehicle and then follow him everywhere?'

‘No. He'll be searching in the Black Mountain National Park and he'll be camped somewhere nearby. But he'll have to leave the car parked and go in to the park on foot. So once you locate his vehicle each day, you can watch to see if he brings any plants out with him. And when he does, you follow him. See if he goes back to his camp and packs up and heads back to Mareeba, or whatever, and let me know.'

‘And how am I supposed to know where his car will be parked each day?'

‘You drive around until you find it. There're not that many roads skirting Black Mountain, and once you find it you watch it until he comes back to it. If he's empty handed you go back to Cooktown until the next day, and then you do the same thing again.'

‘And what if he sees me hanging around watching him?'

‘You make sure he doesn't see you. Buy a decent pair of binoculars and park yourself somewhere out of sight.'

Jackson was not convinced. He thought it would be a lot more difficult than Greg made it sound.

‘I don't know if that's going to work. Plenty could go wrong.'

‘Like what?'

‘Well, what if his car's not there one day? How would I know if he's still hanging around, or if he's gone?'

‘Follow him back to his camp on the first day, and then you can easily check to see if he's still camped there or not.'

‘All right, I'm willing to give it a try, but it sounds a bit hit and miss to me, so don't blame me if it doesn't work out.'

‘It'll work out.' Greg paused. ‘There's one other thing. Elly Cooper might be with him, so make sure you don't show yourself.'

Jackson's stomach turned a somersault. ‘What? Holy shit, you're joking? If she spotted me I'd be done for.'

‘If you're careful she won't spot you. All you have to do is stay out of sight, and there are plenty of trees to hide behind,' Greg soothed. ‘There's no way they'll be expecting anyone to be watching them. And you'll know if they head anywhere except back to wherever they're camped, and then you'll keep well away from them.'

‘No. Forget it. I'm not going anywhere near where Elly is.'

‘Listen, mate, this is worth a lot of money to me, and I'm willing to pay you well. Really well.'

Jackson considered this. ‘How much?' he asked cautiously.

‘Twice what we've talked about. And I guarantee I'll have you back in New Zealand in time for Christmas. How about that?'

Jackson turned it over in his mind. If it all went according to plan, he'd be really set up. He'd even have enough to put on that play he'd written, the one he'd buried away amongst his possessions. A dream that he had little hope of achieving otherwise. He drew a deep breath.

‘All right,' he agreed. ‘I'll give it a go. But the first sign of trouble I'm out of here.'

‘Fair enough. Now go and buy those binoculars and get started tomorrow. And ring me each night to let me know what's happening.'

‘Okay, it's a deal.'

Early the next morning, with the new binoculars on the passenger's seat beside him and the registration number Greg had given him firmly memorised, he drove slowly around Cooktown. Along Charlotte Street, past the hotels and motels, and even the other caravan parks. But there was no sign of a Land Cruiser with those numbers. Then he set off down the Mulligan Highway to Black Mountain, keeping close watch all the way. Past the wetlands, their surface covered with water lilies, over the long bridge spanning the Annan River and on down towards Black Mountain.

He found the car parked off the road close by the mountain itself. He drove past once, slowly, with his sunglasses on and his cap pulled well down, but there was no-one inside. Turning around he drove past again and, further back up the highway, he found a spot where he could pull in amongst the trees, screened from the road but close enough to watch the Cruiser. Then he turned the radio on low, picked up the book he'd brought to read, and settled down to wait. After a couple of hours he put the book down. An idea for a new play was buzzing around in his head, and he decided that tomorrow he would bring his laptop and do some writing.

He had a long wait, and even in amongst the trees, where it was cooler than outside, the heat was oppressive. He left the car several times, taking himself for a short walk, but still the day passed slowly. An occasional car passed along the highway, going in either direction, but the Cruiser remained where it was until late afternoon.

When he saw two people return to it, he raised the binoculars to his eyes and observed them closely. So Elly was here with Beaumont. But neither carried any semblance of a plant. Putting the binoculars aside he started the car, and when they moved off he followed at a discreet distance behind. When they pulled off onto a side track he drove past and parked further up the highway, scurrying back on foot. Making his way along the track he ducked into the trees as he approached a clearing, and from his shelter he saw the camp they'd set up.

Returning to his cabin he took a plunge in the swimming pool to cool off, then went inside to knock the top off a stubby of beer, well pleased with the day's effort.

As was Greg, when he rang him to report. ‘Just stick with it,' Greg added, before ringing off.

Chapter 25

With each passing day Elly was becoming wearier. Even inside the dense forest the heat and humidity were draining. And she felt a tension between her and Mitchell that hadn't been there before. When he remarked on her silence and asked her if something was the matter she brushed it aside, telling him it was only the heat and the strain of the search.

Today seemed hotter than ever and the protective long pants and shirt sleeves she wore seemed to stick closer than ever to her body, and she could feel the sweat trickling down her back. Regularly mopping it from her face irritated her skin, and she thought longingly of plunging into the fresh, cool water of the lagoon at the end of the day. That kept her going. That and the memory of her father, and her determination to find the
stripling
.

Mitchell's call for the lunch break came a little earlier than usual, and when she joined him in a small clearing beside a dry creek bed she found he'd taken off his backpack and was reaching his hand inside his shirt, trying, unsuccessfully, to reach his back to scratch it.

‘Thank God you're here,' he said. ‘Will you check my back for me? There's something there driving me mad.'

He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, holding it as he turned his bare back to Elly.

‘Ticks,' she exclaimed as she saw several of the black parasites buried in his skin. She peered more closely. ‘Yes, I can see the legs on this one. There're four of them.'

‘Ah shit! They must've dropped off one of the trees when I pushed past. I've got one of those little tick removal things in my pack. Do you think you can get them out?'

‘I'll give it a go. Here, give me your shirt while you get it.'

After handing her his shirt Mitchell picked up his pack and opened it. Removing the first aid kit, he took out the small metal implement, forked at one end, and handed it to Elly.

‘Have you done this before?' he asked her.

‘No, but I've seen Mum use it when Ben picked up a tick, and I know you have to be careful not to leave the head in.' She handed him back his shirt. ‘Turn around.'

Choosing the tick with the largest amount of body protruding from the skin, she carefully slid the prongs each side of it and carefully but firmly lifted until it came cleanly out of his back.