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The phone rang a bit later. It was Detective Inspector Piscatelli again. Tammy spoke with her for some time and eventually agreed to keep on the poachers’ trail. “...no, don’t worry, we won’t try and do anything. Yes, just follow them. Okay. Okay. Yes: it’s a white Mazda 929. What’s the rego, Winton?” Winton rattled off a number and Tammy repeated it to the detective. “What year?” And so on.
Tammy eventually finished the call.
“So, like, what’s happening, Tams?”
“Lots of nothing. She’s sending a police car after us. I’m to report every twenty minutes to this number. And she’s flying back to Brisbane.
“Oh, terrific.”
#
THE AFTERNOON DRAGGED on. People bickered. Randy got hungry. They made a hasty stop for toilets, petrol and snack food, then raced on. There was no sign of the police car they were hoping to see. Finally the sun dropped low behind them. They crawled through rush-hour traffic in a big town called Toowoomba and descended a steep hill into shadow. Randy remembered the place from his bus trip four weeks earlier when he and Piho had been heading west to Jillaranda Creek full of optimism.
Piho glanced at the time, then started fiddling with the radio. His efforts caught a news broadcast midway through.
“... and mystery still surrounds what could be Australia’s most remarkable fossil ever. Since stunning photographs appeared this morning on the Internet, no news has come out from its alleged location ten kilometres west of Cunnundrom where a tight police cordon has been set up around the site. There is speculation that the fossil may have already been stolen. Police are apparently trying to locate two New Zealand tourists who may be able to help them with their inquires...”
“Huh,” said Randy, “we’ve been trying to locate them!”
“Shh!” said Tammy.
“... And now to sport. The Australian and New Zealand cricket teams meet again tonight but this time in the spirit of charity. An exclusive gala event will soon be underway at the River City Hotel where the long-time rivals will do battle over a banquet. And with the current one-day series drawn at one-all, crowds at this Saturday’s game are predicted to be ...”
And then Nikki turned it off.
“Hey!” said Randy.
“INTERCEPTION IN THREE minutes!” shouted Winton beside him.
“Oh no!” shouted Nikki, stomping on the brakes, “look at this traffic!”
Ahead of them the traffic was bunched up and moving at only sixty. There were several large trucks that seemed to be slowing everything down.
“Awwww!” groaned Randy.
“There’ll be a passing lane soon. We’ll get past.”
There was. And they did. And then there were more trucks. Ten minutes later another passing lane came up and Nikki risked a 120 kilometre-an-hour dash to get past. As they cleared the last one Randy shouted happily, “There they are!”
“You sure?” queried Nikki.
“It’s the white Mercedes! I’d know it anywhere!”
“Car and truck,” added Piho, “Looks like it to me.”
“Is that your father’s truck, Winton?” asked Tammy.
“I have yet to confirm a positive identification,” mumbled Winton, dropping his eyes back to his screen.
“Get closer!” ordered Randy.
“Yeah,” added Piho sarcastically, “and stand by with the torpedoes.”
“I don’t know,” said Nikki, keeping the speed steady and ignoring his comment, “They might see us.”
“How could they possibly know it’s us?” asked Randy
“This used to be his car, remember,” said Winton dryly.
“Oh. Yeah. But Reinhold doesn’t know that! We’ll just follow him.”
“He’s only got to glance in his rear vision mirror...” began Piho.
“We can’t let them get away!” howled Tammy.
“Get closer!” yelled Randy.
But Nikki held her speed. “It’s not worth the risk,” she said, “We agreed just to track them until the cops take over.”
“And where the bloody hell are they?” roared Randy.
“We’re tracking the fossil; that’s the deal!” Nikki snapped back, “Now shut up!”
Tammy was twitching anxiously, gazing at the traffic ahead of them. “This is going to work out,” she kept saying, “We’re going to get Fossie back.”
Then Winton said, “Ah, guys, the computer’s getting really low on power. Any chance you brought the in-car recharger with you?”
“Errruuuu-uh ... no,” said Piho, “it's way back at Tammy's place.”
“Well then we’re just about stuffed,” said Winton matter-of-factly. Then he added, “Oh! I see: it's been recharging the satellite phone!”
“Not the only problem,” added Nikki, “We’re low on gas again.”
“What!” whined Randy, “But we filled it up halfway!”
“It sucks,” mumbled Winton.
“What’d you say?!” asked Piho angrily.
“I said it sucks, like sucks petrol. Geez, you Kiwis are touchy.”
“Listen, mate, I’ve just about had enough of your...”
“WILL YOU GUYS STOP IT!” yelled Nikki. The car lurched alarmingly.
There was a long uncomfortable silence. The two of them scowled and growled and glowered, then at precisely the same time they both said, “I’m sorry.”
“Good!” snapped Nikki, “Because I’ve got enough stress in my life already!”
They were coming onto a four-lane highway and the traffic was going insane. Nikki dithered, allowing herself to be forced into the right lane, just as Tammy yelled, “There’s a gas station!”
Nikki jerked the wheel left. A horn blared right beside them. The Mazda lurched back to the right. Nikki swore. And the opportunity had gone. The refill was going to have to wait.
Suddenly Winton said, “Well, that’s it, we’ve lost it.” He shut the laptop with an angry snap. Randy felt bad. He remembered that there had been some sort of recharger thing but he hadn't even unpacked it, let alone looked at it. He wanted to start shouting at Piho, ‘This is all your fault! ... ’ but just managed to restrain himself.
And right then Piho started shouting, “Hey, the Mercedes is passing. It’s going left! They’re turning off! They’re turning off!”
Tammy started frantically poking at the phone.