Mole Creek by James Dunbar

Author:James Dunbar [Dunbar, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, australian, Crime, Mystery, Tasmania, Sydney, Vietnam, Vietnam War, military fiction, War, Military, assassin, secret, family secret, journalist, Murder, Chris Hammer, Jane Harper, Sally Bothroyd, Benjamin Stevenson, Michael Connelly
ISBN: 9781760687984
Published: 2023-07-03T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

It takes a couple of hours and several cups of coffee before Spangler emerges in the Kookaburra Kaffe with news that Xander and Althea have long since given up on. There are worse places to wait. The café tends towards functional rather than fancy, and to call it a family restaurant would be erring on the side of culinary romanticism, but to describe it as a roadhouse, truck stop or greasy spoon would be a serious disservice to a place that clearly has its charms. The tablecloths are, in fact, plastic sheets, protecting craftwood surfaces. But the food is dominated by thick slices of bread and generous serves of fries, all of which hit the spot, judging by the happy hikers tucking in at a nearby table.

‘Just what you need after a few hours trudging across misty mountains,’ Althea says as platefuls of potato wedges and burgers are delivered to their heavily sweatered neighbours.

‘I was thinking what great hangover food it would be,’ Xander says. ‘That ute in the car park? You don’t think …? The Russian?’

‘I don’t recall us being tailed by a giant ute. Do you?’ Althea says.

‘There was no rear-view mirror on my side,’ Xander replies. ‘And these trucks are everywhere. You wouldn’t even have noticed.’

‘Maybe it was somebody who’d had a drink,’ she says. ‘Felt guilty or exposed when I looked at him. Simple as that.’

‘Because anyone can tell you’re a cop under all the fake fleece, beanie and puffed duck feathers,’ Xander says with a smile.

‘Maybe. I like to think I have a certain bearing.’

A gust of cold air has them look up at the entry door for the umpteenth time. Finally, the half-familiar figure of Johnny Spangler slouches in, waves peremptorily at the serving staff and joins them at their table.

‘Three questions,’ he says immediately, unfolding a piece of paper on which are scribbled notes that Xander can’t read from his angle. He looks at Xander. ‘What was your grandmother’s name?’

‘Kate,’ Xander says immediately.

‘Okay,’ Spangler says, peering at his own writing as if he’s seeing it for the first time. ‘Ah, yes. What was your grandfather’s favourite drink?’

‘Laphroaig single malt whisky,’ Xander replies.

‘I got malt whisky but I suppose whatever you said will do,’ Spangler concedes, then turns to Althea. ‘And you, are you a Parks and Wildlife officer? And remember if you say no and it’s a bluddy lie you can’t prosecute.’

‘I’m not and, by the way, that’s bullshit,’ she says. ‘You’ve been watching too many movies.’

Spangler shrugs. ‘Okay. I don’t care,’ he says, producing a larger piece of paper from his inside pocket. ‘You got bluddy boots – walking boots?’ he asks Xander.

‘Of course,’ Xander says.

‘Not of course. You should see people turn up here expecting to walk the trails in high heels or ugg boots. Blokes in thongs – you’d think we were at the bluddy beach.’

Xander points to his feet. He is already wearing the lightweight hiking boots he kept at the cottage for his fishing trips with Pete.

‘Okay. Here is plan,’ Spangler says to Althea.

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