One-month later Ben left prints in wet white sand. Their existence was short lived as small waves, after delivering sounds of their destination, smoothed all proof of his passing. The wide horizon’s fine line between the ocean and a sky of blue accepted his gaze for some moments. Until a seagull riding a wave of air overhead caught his eye and redirected his gaze inland, to where Peter Quinn sat looking in his direction. Ben waved as he changed direction and proceeded toward the small cottage. Soon he stood close enough to the porch to talk, but not to appear to be invasive of Quinn’s space.
Quinn asked the inevitable question.
“Business Ben, or is this a social call?”
“Social call Peter.” Ben removed his hat and exposed his perspiration to the sunlight as he searched for the right words to explain his presence. Without beating around the bush he offered, “I’ve retired from the Service. One reason being that the hierarchy feel that blokes my age are too old to function. Two, I stepped over the line to the extent that I felt unable to act conscientiously as a law enforcer. Thirdly, I felt that it was time to give some of my life to me, if that makes sense?”
“I understand perfectly, Ben. You’d best come on up and take the weight off your feet. I’ll put the kettle on. Tea or coffee?” Quinn slid open the glass door, and as he passed through its doorway he called back, “I’ll tell Justine you’re here. She wondered if you’d come back.”
Ben made his way to the stairs, and as he stepped over the lip of the veranda Justine glided through the doorway.
“Hello Ben. How are you?”
“Good thank you, Justine. How is your day?”
“It’s a lovely day.” She seated herself at the table and shortly after Quinn brought kettle and cups.
“Is it time for you to go fishing, Ben?” Justine asked.
“Yes. It came a little earlier than I expected.” He gathered his thoughts before he added, “That is only part of the reason for my visit though.” Both Quinn and Justine became noticeably still, interrupting Ben’s explanation. He quickly went on.
“A second part is that I was sure that you’d like to hear the whole story, and the outcome of the Simon West’s foray into the unknown.”
Quinn nodded as Justine inquired.
“Who is Simon West?”
“I suppose that he’s one of the heroes of the story, but it is a long story and it became connected to the wooden box that plagued the world recently.”
“I think that everyone heard about that part.” Quinn grinned.
“Yes,” Ben chuckled, “But not the inside story.”
“Sounds intriguing?” Justine questioned.
“It’s also a rare story, but as I said it is a long story. So if you’ll allow me I’d like to put it aside for the moment, and come to the third part of the reason for my visit?”
“Come on Ben, tell us.” Justine cried. In way similar to Ben’s eldest daughter when she thought she was being teased.
“I wanted to know if you know how to scuba dive?” He asked Quinn.
“Yes,” Quinn said, “It’s been a couple of years since I’ve done any, but yes I can dive. I don’t have any diving gear though.”
“We can get some if necessary.” Ben said before he apologized, “Look I’m sorry to beat about the bush, but there are a couple of things I’d like to point out to you before I come to the point. Is that alright? Just so we know where we stand.” Justine and Quinn nodded their consent.
“There may be treasure or there may not be. If you come with me and help me look for it, we might find it or we might not. We might find the boat that it was on, but we might also find that someone has beaten us to it. Either way we get the enjoyment of looking for it. That is, if you like a treasure hunt?”
“Everyone loves a treasure hunt, don’t they?” Justine reminded.
Ben looked to Quinn who nodded.
“Even me.”
“Then it’s understood where we stand? You also understand that I’m not making any promises that we’ll be successful in our venture?” Ben asked.
“Yes, fully understood.” They chorused.
“O.K.” Ben said, “Simon West’s boat went down off the coast just a little North of Brisbane. I’m ninety percent sure he had a parcel of opals aboard at the time. I’ve bought a Bayliner, and I have the approximate location of the place where it sank, along with charts of the area. The plan is, load the Bayliner, drive up there and have a look.”
“How approximate is your location.” Quinn asked.
“G.P.S and compass reckoning given by the crew of the fishing vessel who saw the boat explode and go down. Who, I should add, may have gone back to perform their own brand of salvage.”
“Possibly,” Quinn replied before he asked, “What’s it been? Five weeks?”
“Plus a few days,” Ben added.
He could see that Quinn was interested in the search, but there was something holding him back.
As if he was cautious.
Ben decided the best way to find out was to ask.
“Peter, you look like you may be interested in the venture, but something holds you back?”
Quinn was silent for a moment before he formed his question.
“Can you think of any reason why it might be dangerous for me to go into Australian waters?”
Ben looked Quinn in the eye and said what he thought Quinn hoped for, while understanding the need in Justine’s ears.
“No. Tom Lee is dead. He died in a gunfight with one of his men who attempted a hostile takeover. So you and your family are safe from any threats that may have come from that quarter.” He added what he knew was for the benefit of Quinn’s ears. “Sudovich is also dead. The report I wrote at the end of the investigation into his death states he more than likely died at the hands of those who were behind the wooden box affair.”
“Did he?” Quinn asked.
“No. My report was not entirely accurate. I took a little poetic license.”
Quinn read Bens eyes and inquired further.
“Do you know?”
Ben reached into the back pocket of his trousers and brought out a folded photograph. He handed it to Quinn.
“I knew before I made my last visit here. This photo was lifted from the security camera of a motel near a golf course. I deleted everything associated with the particular day of Sudovich demise. So the person in that photo has nothing to fear.”
“Why?” Quinn asked.
“Initially I had bigger fish to fry, and my interview with you was concerned with that. The fact that you were so forthcoming with information was beneficial to my investigation. In a way you helped me get a head start on Lee, and I would have caught him red handed if he’d lived longer. You also helped me to discover the existence of Horton…”
“Horton?” Quinn interrupted.
“Yes, that was the real name of the N.C.O. He turned up looking for Simon’s money. He also killed a close friend and colleague of mine when we tried to apprehend him.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your friend, Ben.”
The three remained quiet for some moments.
“What became of Horton?” Quinn asked.
“He’s dead too.”
”…and Simon’s money?”
Ben smiled as he nodded at Quinn.
“It’s safe.”
“That’s a good thing. A lot of people died making sure that it worked out that way though, didn’t they?” Quinn offered.
“Many more will stay alive because of it.” Ben suggested before he said, “The other part of your original ‘why’ question is, when I came here the last time Justine asked me if I was a friend, and I said yes.” He paused and accepted her smile, as she realized her part in protecting her meaning in life, “As well as that, there is also, as I said earlier, the fact that I stepped over the line…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead he looked closely at some freckles on his arm, before he rubbed his hand gently over them. Then, after anoth
er sip of his coffee he suggested, “Anyway I’d like to, at some stage of the game tell you both the whole story. Especially the scary part about the wooden box, and if I make known too many bits and pieces it might spoil the tale.”
“Scary Ben?” Quinn raised an eyebrow as he asked.
Ben touched his lips as he thought for a moment.
“Do you remember on my last visit here, you talked about the way that the world was? Our paradise in the sun, cricket in the street, unlocked doors and such?”
“Mmm. Yes,” Quinn replied.
“I think that your words were, “Suddenly we turned around one day and everything had gone?” Well, to put it as simply as I can. That is, without telling you the whole story. We’ve turned around again and everything has gone further. To the extent that, like me, you may have to reconsider everything…” Ben searched for words as he shook his head slowly from side to side, until he finally lifted his hands, palms up and said, “Everything, from past events through to whatever happens in the future.” He took another sip of his coffee before he smiled lightly and excused himself, “As I said it’s a long story.”
Quinn understood the signs. He noticed Ben pass a hand gently over his freckled forearm for a second time and redirected the conversation.
“If we find the booty on board Simon’s sunken boat, Ben, how do you want to divvy it up? I only ask because you made it clear that we should know where we stand.”
Ben allowed his sense of humour to clear his mind of that dark place, “Aye. That I did me hearty and I’ll tell ye. If the haul be huge, then I’ll just take what covers expenses and you can have the rest. If the haul be small, then you two take it all and let me just have the adventure.”
“That’s a very generous offer?”
“Look at it from my point of view, Peter. If you don’t come then I don’t get to go, and if I went on my own then I can’t dive when I get there. I don’t need the money that the opals might bring, but I like the idea of the adventure. We’ll keep to the coast on the way up and if for any reason you want out then we’ll always be near a port. I know that a boat allows restricted space, but the whole time on the water might only be three weeks max, and that time will be split up between ports and islands.”
Ben considered the trump card he was about to play.
One based on his lifetime experience of reading people. He delivered it for the benefit of Justine’s ears.
“There is one other thing. If the haul be huge then you might never have to leave this place to work again.”
He’d struck a chord with Justine’s desire for security.
“That’s settled then,” she said, “Where do we start?”
Ben looked to Quinn who grinned back at him as they shook hands over the table.
“To new beginnings,” Ben said as he raised his coffee mug in salute.
“New beginnings,” Justine and Quinn replied with hopes raised high, as Ben’s finger tips subconsciously touched his forearm.
EPILOGUE
The sun washed over current rippled sand flats, where soldier crabs moved herd like in their search for minute particles left exposed after the high tides recent departure.
Some young boys disturbed the crabs, as they enthusiastically picked through the thick liquid that spewed from a pump their father used to suck yabbies from below the sands surface.
Each one optimistic that the collected bait would offer sizable rewards from the ocean’s inshore depths, while seagulls waited in small perimeter for the collector’s leftovers.
The man who leant forward on the park bench overlooking the beach gave them a cursory glance. Before he again lent is gaze to the horizon, where distant sails of a yacht displayed white on a background of blue.
He suddenly turned his head. Looking over his shoulder towards the sharp noise of a teenager’s skateboard as it clattered along the concrete pathway.
His thoughts relived the events of the past months as he tried once more to find some peace, while the faces of those lost to him lingered in full view of his mind’s eye.
Burn scars from the explosion which destroyed ‘der boat’, displayed their story on the hand which held a bottle in brown paper wrapping.
The bottle held water, but the brown paper bag gave it the appearance of alcohol, and played its part in keeping regular passersby at bay.
It was a well-rehearsed and welcome ruse for he who wished to be left in solitude.
A power tool used by the gardeners in the caravan park suddenly let out an animal like howl. It caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand, as the skin gave way to a crawling sensation.
Rising quickly from his seat he immediately strode across the park, and after glancing once more over his shoulder he disappeared into the bush.
Time was a necessity for his healing, and that time needed its companion, silence.
He was like a wounded animal that needed to lie up for a period of time, until he could once again reclaim his place in society.
Until then he must wait.
He looked back yet again before he listened to the quiet. Then silently moved to his bush camp, where dreams would wake him at night and visions haunt his days.
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