Page 74 of Stockman's Showdown

‘I agree,’ said Ryder. ‘We were working on it last night.’

‘Did you figure out anything?’ Marcus asked.

‘Only that the measurements were wrong. But at least that young officer took enough photos for us to work off the images. We’re still working on it and haven’t come to any conclusions yet.’

‘Like I am.’ Porter waved his hand over the table, filled with evidence.

‘Which reminds me…’ Bree looked up from the evidence table. ‘Pop? You said Jack Price oversaw the munitions for the station? What sort of munitions?’

After talking about the missing cases of shotguns, her question had Ryder and Marcus standing very still to listen.

‘Well, there were the usual rifles and shotties, as well as bullets and shells.’

‘Was there anything else?’

‘Gelly.’

‘What?’

‘Boom-boom sticks.’ Charlie grinned wide. ‘Gelignite.’

‘Why would you have dynamite on a cattle station?’ Porter asked.

‘Jack Price was using it for the major excavations we had going on for Starvation Dam. It was back in 1961, during the first year of that drought, and Darcie’s dad wanted the dam dug in deeper. We were all sick of using that ol’ Massey backhoe, we called the widow maker, it gave us a heck of time. That’s when Jack Price said he could blast it, and he did.’

‘So how did that put Jack Price in charge of the munitions?’ Porter asked.

‘Back then there were no gun laws, but it was the head stockman’s job to ration out the guns and ammo to deal with the wildlife and whatnot. You’d give a stash to the boundary riders, the bore runners, and even today I’m always carrying ammo in the saddle with me, just like Bree.’

‘As Elsie Creek Station’s head stockman,’ said Porter, ‘did you keep dynamite, Charlie?’

‘Me? No. We only used it for Starvation Dam. Well, Price did. Only coz he knew his weapons, kind of like you there, son.’ Charlie pointed to Ryder.

‘Can I ask what happened to Jack Price’s body?’ Bree asked.

Porter flicked through some paperwork. ‘It sat in the morgue for ages, because no one claimed him, no relatives, nothing. Which makes sense, now that we know it’s a false name. Eventually, the local stockmen chipped in to pay for his burial, and the Salvos buried him in the Katherine Cemetery in the section designated for those without means or family.’

‘Did you find any of Jack Price’s family, now you know his real name?’ Bree asked.

‘I’m trying. Jack Price—or Jake Blackwell—had a younger sister who is proving to be a challenge to track down. But for Penelope Price’s family I found one of her cousin’s daughters.’

‘What are they doing with Penelope’s remains?’ Charlie asked with sadness in his voice.

‘Well, at first, they didn’t care about the body and had no clue who Penelope was at all.’ Porter slid his hands into the pockets of his police uniform and gave a meek shrug. ‘It was only when I mentioned there may be a stack of cash to inherit that they volunteered to bury her down south.’

‘How much cash did Penelope have on her?’ Bree asked.

‘Twenty thousand, in old bills.’

‘Pop? How much was twenty grand worth back in 1962? I mean, compared to now.’

‘Well, hard to say…’ Charlie rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Back then, if Penelope had that much tucked away, they would’ve had the means to buy a decent house, for sure.’

‘A whole house, for twenty thousand dollars?’ Porter blurted out.

‘Ryder?’ Bree looked to him for some explanation.

‘Taking inflation into consideration,’ said Ryder, ‘twenty K back then would be the equivalent of over three hundred grand today.’

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