Pat Ritter. Books

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can I impose upon you to sit at the head of the table. Men should sit at the head of the table.’ She instructed.
Bundy moved and repositioned to the head of the table with Mrs Clayton on his right. She’d prepared cold meat with salad.
‘What do you drink, Bundy?’ Mrs Clayton asked.
‘Hot chocolate,’ Kate interrupted, ‘he’s a hot chocolate man.’ She grinned and sneered at Bundy.
‘Mrs Clayton, I see you’ve made a pot of tea. Tea would be fine, thank you. Hot chocolate is a little joke between Kate and me.’ He answered glaring at Kate.
‘I think instead of calling me Mrs Clayton – why don’t you call me Mary. I’d much prefer you did.’ She said and looked at Bundy.
‘My pleasure – Mary it is.’
Whilst they ate, conversation continued more from Kate to explain why Bundy was included into the investigation. Kate explained how the Commissioner contacted Bundy and requested him to help her.
‘It’s been eight years since he disappeared. Peter turned twenty-one in April just gone. He’s on my mind most of the time; I know you are doing a fine job Kate, with Bundy on board, we might find out if Peter is dead or alive.’ Mary said.
‘This is an awkward question to ask. Do you feel Peter is still alive? I know mothers often have a particular feeling about their children.’ Bundy asked.
‘You know Bundy, I dream of Peter most nights, how he’s coping. I know he’s alive. I wouldn’t dream about him otherwise.’ She finished, slowly selecting her words.
‘Can you describe these dreams?’ Bundy asked in a sincere and concerned voice.
‘Sometimes they’re a little hazy; like I see him standing near a large shed, built from sheets of iron. He looks happy; glad and is taller. I see it’s him because he’s

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shovelling dirt, or perhaps it might be something else. I’m not certain.’ She stopped, placed her knife and fork beside her plate and took a tissue from inside her bra to wipe her eyes.
‘I’m sorry Mary, soon after my wife Ada passed away; she appeared in my dreams nightly. At first I couldn’t tell whether or not she was still alive or I only saw her in my dreams.’
‘I have similar dreams of my Les. He passed away two years ago, I miss him terribly but I know in my heart he’s at peace.’ Mary consoled.
‘Although it’s been nine years since I lost my love, Ada, she continues to appear in my dreams. It’s taken a long time to realise she’s gone to somewhere other than being with me. How I knew she’d gone was, one day about six months after she passed away, I was sitting on the front veranda at home and my left hand pointed toward her grave at the front of the house. I felt a twinge on the point of my left index finger. One second it was there and the next it was gone. After that moment I felt peace within myself.’ Bundy shared.
‘I haven’t felt the twinge or anything, but I know Les is still in the house. I speak with him and he answers. At times, I don’t know if I’m going crazy, in reality I know he’s not coming back, so I’ve got to get on with life the best I know how. It’s a different feeling about Peter. I truly believe he is going to walk through the front door one day. When, I don’t know – it will happen.’
‘I sincerely hope you’re right, Mary. I surely do.’ Bundy finished.
They finished lunch and Bundy requested he do the washing up, ‘you can stay if you want. Les never washed up in all the time we were married.’ Mary stated and smiled at him.

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Bundy collected the finished plates, carried them to the sink in the kitchen. He’d long ago served his apprenticeship in the family home to always have the washing-up finished shortly after a meal and wipe over the sink, bench tops and stove.
‘What about we move to the front veranda and you can tell me more about yourself Bundy.’ Mary asked. All three adjourned to the front veranda and sat on chairs facing the front yard.
‘Can I ask you a question Mary, about the day Peter disappeared?’ Bundy asked.
‘Yes – sure, go ahead. I still see him leave and walk to the railway line to board the train. I can’t believe it’s been eight years.’ Mary shared.
‘Did you see him walk from the house that particular day?’ Bundy asked.
‘I stood here on the front veranda, waved and said good-bye as I normally did, and saw him walk across the road. There were all paddocks where the shopping centre is now. When he was safely across to the railway station, I walked inside.’
‘Did you see him walk up the steps and across the line to the railway station?’ Bundy continued.
‘No – only to the footpath before the bridge,’ her voice lowered and tears filled her eyes. She wiped them with a tissue she’d had in her hand.
‘Are you okay – I didn’t mean to bring this up again? I’m certain the police would have asked you a similar question.’ Bundy continued.
‘As a matter of fact they didn’t. At first I wasn’t believed when I told them Peter was missing and told it wasn’t unusual for a young lad his age to go missing. They had plenty of run-away children.’ Mary explained.

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‘Unfortunately there’s no evidence of any sighting of Peter. You may have been the last person to have seen him before he disappeared.’ Bundy stated.
Mary wiped her eyes, ‘when he arrived on the footpath, I thought he’d be safe; I went into the house to prepare Les’s dinner. If only I watched him walk over the overhead bridge.’ She sobbed.
‘Don’t blame yourself. We’re trying to piece together his final steps. We know he didn’t purchase a ticket on the day; we know he didn’t arrive at your mother’s home a couple of stops further along the track. Our next step is to find out what happened to him.’ Bundy said.
‘I know he’s alive – I can feel it, he’s my son, it’s a mother’s instinct.’ Mary concluded.
Bundy and Kate thanked Mary for her hospitality and promised to return and keep her up-to-date with the investigation.

‘What do you think?’ Kate asked Bundy after they settled in the vehicle.
‘Mary’s honest – that’s for sure. I think our work is done here, for now. Would you be able to drop me off at my home? I want to go over those files you downloaded to see if anything jumps out.’ Bundy told Kate.
‘Sure – what’s next?’
‘I’ve told you about my forensic scientist friend Quincy Simpson.’
‘We have our own forensic scientists.’ Kate interrupted.
‘Yes – I know, but I want you to meet Quincy. You’d like him. He has a way of seeing things differently.’ Bundy explained to Kate.
‘Alright - when do we visit this friend of your’s – Quincy Simpson?’ She asked.

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‘I’ve got to phone him first to see when he’s available. He lives with his wife on a farm and breeds cattle.’
‘I’ve got a mobile phone here – if you want to use it?’ Kate handed Bundy her mobile phone.
‘How do you use this contraption?’ Bundy asked. He looked bewildered as if he’d been handed a bomb.
‘Flip the lid, dial the number and speak into the receiver.’ Kate instructed.
He flipped the lid; flashing lights highlighted the dials. Pressing Quincy’s telephone number, he heard noises he’d never heard before and immediately handed the phone to Kate.
‘Wait until I pull over to the curb?’ She slowed the vehicle and stopped. ‘You’re a bloody sissy – you know. What is his telephone number?’ She demanded. Bundy gave her the number and she quickly dialled it. Noises came from the phone and Kate pressed the green button, she handed the open phone to Bundy.
‘Hello.’ – Bundy shouted into the phone.
‘Is that you Bundy – why are you shouting, I can hear you. I’m not that bloody deaf I can’t hear.’ A voice came from the other end.
‘Quincy, will you be home for awhile. I want to come and see you. Put the kettle on we’ll be there in about half-an-hour.’ Bundy told his friend.
‘Who’s we?’ Quincy asked.
‘I’ll tell you about it when we arrive.’ Bundy replied.
‘See you when you get here.’ The phone disconnected. Bundy returned it to Kate who closed the lid and returned it to her trouser pocket.
‘Where do we go from here?’ She wanted to know.
‘Up the range, that way’, he pointed west, ‘I’ll show you where to go. It’s about half-an-hour’s drive.’

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Quincy lived in the hills far enough away from the city he never wanted to return. Since he retired almost ten years before; he’d hibernated in the hills with his wife and about five hundred head of cattle. His only visitors, apart from his family, were Bundy from time to time.
Bundy showed Kate directions where to drive. Crossing a small creek, water flowing Kate accelerated across the water course to the other side, ‘it’s around the corner. Stop at the cattle yards and I’ll open the gate. There he is standing on the front veranda of the house up there on the hill.’ Bundy nodded.
Kate stopped the vehicle and Bundy alighted. He opened the gate and waved Kate to drive through. After closing the gate he returned to the car and they drove up the hill to park at the front of the house.
‘How’re you going – you ole bugger,’ came a boisterous voice from the veranda. Kate parked the vehicle and alighted. Her instant image of the man standing on the veranda was one of shock. A little over five foot six inches in height; huge belly; grey salt and pepper coloured beard covered his face and bright blue eyes sparkled with glee to see his visitors. He was wearing shorts and a farm shirt.
‘G’day Quincy, this is Kate Emerson,’ Bundy called out as they negotiated the staircase leading to the veranda. Bundy shook hands eagerly with Quincy – Kate held her hand out while Quincy shook it with delight.
‘Where’s you’re wonderful wife?’ Bundy asked.
‘In here preparing you and your friend afternoon tea,’ a female voice echoed from inside.
‘How are you Victoria?’ Bundy asked. ‘You’re still with this old fellow out here in the scrub – I see?’
‘Yes – I’m better off with the one I know than the one I don’t know. Who’s that you’ve got with you?’ Victoria asked.

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‘I’d like you both to meet Detective Superintendent Kathleen Emerson.’ Bundy introduced Kate to his friends.
‘Pleased to meet you Kathleen, do you want to come inside and we’ll talk and let these two old fellows catch up with what they’ve missed.’ Victoria called out through the window.
Kate entered the house.
‘Where did you find her – you old fox, she’s young enough to be your daughter?’ Quincy asked Bundy with a smile covered his bearded face.
‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’ Bundy told his friend.
‘Try me – you’ve known me long enough to tell the truth.’
‘A couple of months ago I received two medals from the Commissioner of Police.’ Bundy explained.
‘What type of medals?’ Quincy inquired.
‘One for retirement, and another for twenty years continuous service, when I saw them in the case I almost fell over with gratitude. I wrote a letter to the Commissioner to thank him for the kind gesture. In return he contacted me and asked me to visit his office.’
‘This is amazing. You haven’t told me how you met Miss Pretty Face in there with Victoria.’
‘When I visited the Commissioner he wanted me to work with Miss Pretty Face to help solve an investigation into the disappearance of a twelve year old lad who disappeared over eight years ago.’
‘Holy Christ – you were always the lucky one. How’s it going?’
‘Bloody hard, so far there’s nothing only the lad’s mother was the last person to see the boy alive after he left his house to board a train to visit his grandmother. He never arrived and hasn’t been seen since.’