CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

 

 

The arrangements Faith made with the hotel travel service required her to rise early. By seven o’clock she had eaten breakfast, packed, and was ready and waiting when the bellboy tapped on her door. Fifteen minutes later she had checked out of the St. Francis and left for the railway station in the Ferry Building on the Embarcadero, in a hotel limousine.

The Union Pacific Express to Los Angeles didn’t leave until eight o’clock but Faith was anxious to leave the hotel well before Mr Plimpton came on duty at 8.30 a.m., because she preferred not to tell him personally of her new travel arrangements. Instead, she tipped her driver generously at the station and gave him an envelope to hand to Plimpton when he came on duty, by which time she would be well on her way to Los Angeles. The envelope contained a brief note asking Plimpton to phone Lyle in Washington and tell him of her decision to travel east by train.

*

Lyle checked his wrist watch. It was 11.35 a.m. eastern time and he was just preparing to leave his office when the telephone rang. For a moment he was in two minds about answering it. The last thing he needed was something else to attend to before leaving for New York. But he picked up the receiver anyway.

‘Hunter.’

‘There’s a Mr Plimpton on the line from San Francisco, Sir. He says it’s very urgent.’

‘All right, put him through.’

‘Colonel Hunter?’

‘Yes George. Is everything okay?

‘Well I’m not sure. It seems Miss Brodie has decided not to fly to New York.’

‘What?’

‘One of our limo drivers handed me a note from her a short time ago. She asked me to tell you that she is travelling to New York by train. She says she will call your office along the way and leave word when she’ll be arriving.’

For a moment Lyle was too stunned to say anything. ‘But... but that’s ridiculous,‘ he gasped. ‘She won’t be here for two or three days. All the arrangements I’ve made at this end will be ruined. The wedding itself is only a week away. Surely there must be some mistake.’

‘But I have her note in my hand...’

‘Oh, God.’ Hunter breathed in sharply, sucking in air through his teeth. ‘She didn’t mention anything about this to me yesterday. Did she say anything to you?’

‘I haven’t spoken to her. As you know she arrived fairly late yesterday. I thought I’d introduce myself this morning.’

‘What else does the note say?’

‘Well nothing, I’m afraid. But the limo driver said he took her to the station in the Ferry Building. He said she told him she was catching the eight o’clock Union Pacific Express to Los Angeles.’

‘Los Angeles. That means she’ll have to transfer to the Santa Fe Railroad there to travel east.’

‘That’s odd,’ Plimpton said. You would have thought she would have taken Union Pacific’s northern route—it’s quicker.’

Lyle’s face hardened as an unwanted thought flashed through his mind. The Santa Fe line ran across the south-west from Southern California, through Arizona and New Mexico before swinging north-east through Kansas. ‘George,’ he snapped, ‘I have to know exactly what’s happening. Miss Brodie is a total stranger in this country. It’s unlikely she would have left the hotel to make travel arrangements. Could you check any telephones calls she made and also check the hotel travel service.’

‘Hold on. I’ll just check the travel service on another line.’

Hunter strummed his fingers on his desk while he waited for Plimpton get back to him. He didn’t have to wait long.

‘Yes, your right. Our in-house travel service made her arrangements. Union Pacific to Los Angeles, then transferring to the Chief, Santa Fe’s deluxe extra-fare service to Chicago. But they only ticketed her as far as Gallup, New Mexico. She told them she’d make her own arrangements onward from there.’

‘I see.’ Lyle’s face paled as Plimpton’s words confirmed his fears. After a moment he said, ‘Oh, just one more thing, George. Would you check and see if she made any long distance calls to New Mexico.’

‘Hold on.’ When Plimpton came back on the line he said, ‘No, Colonel. She made no long distance calls at all.’

Lyle sighed despairingly. ‘All right George, thanks anyway. If there’s any new developments please phone me right away. If I’m not here leave a message with my aide, Lieutenant Doyle.’

Lyle angrily slammed the phone down in it’s cradle and began pacing the floor. After a few minutes he opened his office and called in his aide.

‘Lieutenant, I want you to locate the whereabouts of a USAAF captain discharged about eight months ago after service in the south-west Pacific. His name is Dan Rivers and he’s probably living in or around Gallup, New Mexico. He’s a Navajo Indian and was commissioned under a special Army training scheme, so he shouldn’t be hard to track down. When you’ve got the information, call me at home. And while your at it see if you can get me a ride to the Gallup area with the Air Force.’

Later, Hunter was standing at the window of his apartment looking out over the Potomac River when his telephone rang. He crossed the room and grabbed it before the second ring. Lieutenant Doyle was on the line.

‘Colonel, I tracked down this guy Rivers. It wasn’t hard. It seems he’s something of a celebrity in New Mexico. He was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. Apparently the recommendation came from the Cactus Air Force commander on Guadalcanal and endorsed by General MacArthur himself. Rivers runs a construction outfit now. It’s called Mesa Construction. It’s employs only Navajo Indians and it’s got a Defense Department contract at Los Alamos.’

‘You mean at the Government’s scientific experimental facility?’

‘There’s nothing else at Los Alamos, sir.’

‘What about transport?’

‘There’s air traffic going there regularly, sir. Most of it lands at Santa Fe, thirty five miles to the south-east. There’s a military delegation leaving early tomorrow for a one day familiarization visit. It leaves at 0800 hours tomorrow morning, returning at 2000 hours, Santa Fe time.’

‘Is one of our liaison officers going?’

‘Yes, sir. Captain Bartel.?’

‘Tell him, I’ll be taking his place on this one.’

‘Okay, sir, but you’ll need top security clearance for Los Alamos, sir.’

‘I have top level , Lieutenant’

‘The blanket top level is not good for Los Alamos, sir. All personnel need a special clearance for each and every visit.’

‘Then arrange for it, Lieutenant.’

‘It will take a little time, sir. You know the Army, sir—channels and procedures.’

‘Take as much time as you like Lieutenant. Just make sure I have it by flight time tomorrow.’

*

The Chief, the Santa Fe Railroad’s high speed eastbound service left Los Angeles a couple of hours after Faith arrived in the city from San Francisco. She had never seen such opulence aboard a train before. As it raced across Southern California’s Mohave Desert, she ate a four course dinner in the comfort of the air-conditioned dining car. Then as the Chief thundered on through the night over the Colorado River into the high country of north-western Arizona, she slept soundly in a private roomette, complete with wash stand and water closet.

She awoke when the train shuddered to a halt in Flagstaff before dawn the next morning. When she took breakfast, the train was crossing the Colorado Plateau in the north-eastern Arizona and she was able to take in the raw beauty of the land through one of the huge dining car windows. It was a hauntingly beautiful landscape. High wide plains were interspersed with deep gorges, flat topped tablelands, high cliffs and towering vertical volcanic rocks. Faith knew this was the Indian country that Dan had spoken of so fondly.

But from time to time the beauty of the land was marred by the ugly face of poverty and depravation. Now and then she saw clusters of litter-strewn, run-down hogans—round, traditional tribal dwellings made of raw wood and packed earth. At the primitive communities, Faith saw groups of women performing menial tasks surrounded by naked children playing in the dirt. Further afield she saw older children and old men tending flocks of mangy-looking sheep and goats. Some of the shepherds seemed to be just wandering across the mesa, others kept their lonely vigil sitting on scattered rocks, old wrecked wagons or burnt out car bodies. Occasionally, the wrinkled, weathered faces of very old indigenous people dressed in soiled ragged clothing, stared dolefully up at the gleaming aluminum carriages of the Chief as it roared by, reminding its affluent white passengers of the legacy left by their forebears to the once proud Navajo, Hobi, Pueblo and Apache Indian nations.

The Chief pulled into Gallup, New Mexico, twenty-five miles east of the Arizona border exactly on schedule at 11.00 a.m. Faith stepped down from the train and while she was waiting for a steward to bring her luggage from the roomette, she read a sign on the platform. It said the town was named after David Gallop who was district paymaster for the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad when the line went through in the early 1880’s and that the population of Gallup was now nearing eight thousand people. When her bags arrived, an old Indian porter with long white hair flowing down under his red cap hurried over and picked them up.

‘Where to, lady?’

‘I may only be in Gallup a short time before travelling on,’ Faith said. ‘Will I be able to leave my luggage here at the station?’

‘There are lockers inside the station, lady.’

Faith followed the old man into the main station hall and looked around her. She thought the building seemed rather grandiose for a town the size of Gallup. The porter saw her looking around. When they reached the row of storage lockers he said: ‘Grand ain’t it lady. The railroad made Gallup its south-western headquarters in 1881. I’ve been working here since ’91.’ He laid Faith’s cases down. ‘It’s ten cents a day for the locker.’

Faith opened her purse, took out a coin and handed it to him. The porter put the dime in the slot in the locker, slid her luggage in, then slammed the door shut and handed her the key.

‘I stopped off in Gallup to look up an old friend who served overseas in the United States Army Air Force,’ Faith said as she put the key into her purse. ‘Since you’ve been here so long, you may have heard of him. His name is Dan Rivers.’

The old Indian’s mouth broke into a near toothless grin. ‘Ain’t nobody in Gallup hasn’t heard of Captain Dan Rivers, ma’am.’ He pointed across the station hall behind her. ‘He’s right over there, lady, wearin’ his medal.’

Faith turned around, her heart in her mouth. Her eyes searched the faces of the travelers in the station hall behind her but she saw no sign of Dan. But then she saw a huge war bond poster on the station wall. Unlike the poster in Union Square in San Francisco, the man smiling down onto the station floor wasn’t Uncle Sam. It was Dan. And on his chest he wore the Congressional Medal of Honor, the United States’ highest military decoration.

‘Mr Rivers runs the Mesa Construction Company now, lady. Their office is right here in Gallup.’

‘The Mesa Construction Company,’ Faith repeated. She tipped the porter with some coins. ‘Where can I find a taxi?’

The old man tipped his cap and grinned. ‘You don’t need one lady. It’s only three blocks down the street.’

Faith walked the distance in less than ten minutes. When she arrived at the wooden storefront building which housed the Mesa Construction Company she wondered if it was the scorching midsummer heat of Gallup or the prospect of seeing Dan again that made her hands so clammy. She drew a deep breath and stepped through the door. A young Indian in a bright red shirt and blue denims looked up from one of a number of drafting tables. He smiled and walked over to the counter

‘Can I help you, ma’am?’

‘Is Mr Rivers in please?’

‘No ma’am. He’s over at the Los Alamos project.’

‘Los Alamos, where is that?’

It’s about five hours from here, ma’am. It’s out in the desert, just north of Santa Fe.’

‘Can he be reached on the telephone?’

‘Yes. But he’s usually out on the project. We leave messages and he calls back later when he comes into the field office, usually around quitting time.’

‘How would I get to Los Alamos?’

‘By road or train as far as Santa Fe. But you won’t get onto the project without top government security clearance ma’am.’

Faith sighed. ‘When will Mr Rivers be back in Gallup?’

‘Not for awhile. He spends most of his time at Los Alamos.’ The young man smiled again. ‘Is there something I can do for you?’

The apprehension that had built up in Faith on the walk from the railway station suddenly evaporated leaving her feeling drained. ‘Oh, no,’ she sighed wearily, ‘I’m just an old friend of Mr Rivers from overseas. I thought I’d say hello seeing I was passing through town.’

‘Mrs Rivers is in today. Shall I fetch her?’

Mrs Rivers? Faith was taken completely off guard. The possibility of Dan being married hadn’t even crossed her mind.

‘Oh no, that’s not necessary.’ Faith said quickly. She was about to turn and leave when the door of an adjoining room swung open and a woman stepped outside. She was tall and well proportioned with the high cheekbones and the attractive angular features of a Navajo. Faith thought there was a tinge of grey in her long black hair.

The young man turned around. ‘Oh, Mrs Rivers. This lady is looking for Dan.’

‘I heard,’ the tall woman said in a soft even voice.’ The woman stared solemnly at Faith, her black eyes slowly appraising every inch of the visitor from head to foot. ‘You’re not an American, miss. You speak English with a foreign accent. What country are you from?’

‘Australia.’

The tall woman took another long evaluating stare. Then she said, ‘You must be Faith Brodie. I am Shona Rivers, Dan’s mother. My son used to speak of you often.’

Faith smiled. ‘We were very close once, Mrs Rivers.’

Shona Rivers smiled for the first time. ‘I just come in a couple of days a week to file things and try and help out a little. She gestured toward the office door. ‘This is Dan’s office. Would you care to come in?’

Faith stepped inside the room and Shona Rivers closed the door behind her.

‘I saw the war bond poster in the station, Mrs Rivers,’ Faith said. ‘You must be very proud of Dan’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘And you have good reason to be. He served his country well and now he has what he said he always wanted, his own engineering and construction business.’

‘Yes. It’s always been his dream. A dream I thought he may fulfill far away from here. He told me he had plans to build roads and bridges in Australia and start a new life there. My son loved your country—enough to want to make it his home. But your country said a Navajo was only good enough to fight and die for it, not good enough to live in it.’ Shona Rivers still spoke softly and there was no trace of malice in her voice. ‘Now tell me, Miss Brodie, why is it you have come to Dinétah now.’

‘On my way to America I met a friend on board ship who told me about what happened to Dan with the immigration people in Australia. It was the first I heard of it. He must have been very bitter. He had promised to come to Brisbane when he was discharged from the hospital in Melbourne. We planned to discuss a future together He said he would know by then if he could... well... have children and lead a normal family life. I know that was very important to him. When he didn’t come, I thought the medical news must have been bad or that he had just stopped caring for me. Over time I accepted that he had not come to me because of one or both of those reasons. When I learned on the ship that the immigration problem might have been the reason, I just had to find out for myself.’

‘But my son did go to Brisbane to see you after he was discharged from hospital, Miss Brodie’

Faith was stunned. ‘But he didn’t... He couldn’t have... I didn’t see him.’

‘That’s because you weren’t there. Dan said when he got to Brisbane he discovered you were staying in a hotel by the sea with another American officer.’

Faith stood open-mouthed and dumbfounded as she recalled her visit to Point Danger to see Lyle. She could have only missed Dan by hours. She was about to try and explain but Dan’s Mother spoke first.

‘Why have you come to this country, Miss Brodie?

‘I came to get married, in New York.’

‘To this other man. The American officer?’

‘Yes.’ Faith felt her face flush.

‘I see.’

Faith could see from the look on Shona Rivers’ face that she didn’t see at all. She drew a deep breath. ‘I don’t think you do, Mrs Rivers. It seems there have been misunderstandings all around. It’s unfortunate Dan isn’t here so we could set them straight.’

‘Perhaps it is just as well he’s not here, Miss Brodie. He’s still under special medication from the doctors and may be for the rest of his life. But he is happy now and I want him to stay that way. He has finally put all his bitterness to rest and allowed the fire in his heart to subside. I think, maybe, it’s better if you don’t see him and start fanning the ashes.’

The words cut like a knife. Faith’s lips trembled involuntarily. She felt her eyes moisten. Unsure of whether she could control her emotions, she turned away quickly. But before she reached the door she felt Shona Rivers’ firm hand on her forearm.

‘Where are you going now?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Faith said without looking up. ‘I have to think.’

‘You heard what the young man said. It’s not possible for you to gain access to the Los Alamos project to see Dan.’

Faith looked up quickly. She had composed herself now. ‘With all respect, Mrs Rivers, if I don’t see Dan it will be because I have decided not to,’ she said forcefully, ‘not because you say I cannot.’

Faith was surprised to see the older woman’s lips form a tight smile.

‘That’s more like it. Dan told me you were a fighter. He said you walked hundreds of miles across the wilderness leading a group of abandoned children to safety when the Japanese were bombing your country. Is that true?’

Shona Rivers didn’t wait for Faith to reply. ‘Whatever happened between you and my son or whatever my own feelings are,’ she said gently, ‘Dan wouldn’t thank me for not telling him you were here. Now, a local train leaves Gallup at noon everyday for Albuquerque and Santa Fe. It won’t get to Santa Fe for six, maybe seven hours because it makes a lot of stops along the way. If you hurry you can be on it and I will telephone the field office at Los Alamos and leave word for Dan that you are aboard. If he wishes to see you, he’ll have lots of time to get into town to the railroad station. And if he doesn’t, well, you can just carry on to New York.’

*

The most northerly of the Sir Edward Pellow Group of islands clustered around the mouth of the MacArthur River, lay almost twenty miles offshore in the Gulf of Carpentaria. Monday spotted them first in the early afternoon, when he was perched high up on the Walrus’ mainmast keeping at eye out for the Groote Eylandt Lady. When he shouted out the news, Joe asked Weasel to take the helm and went below to check the charts. Koko was in the galley off the main cabin. He looked up from cutting bread for the crew’s midday meal of sandwiches when Joe clambered down the companionway.

‘I heard, Monday.’ Koko said. ‘How far off are we?’

Joe sat down at the chart table. ‘It’s about fifteen miles to the islands, I’d say. That means we’re around thirty five miles from the mouth of the MacArthur River. It will be almost dark when we get there. I’m just going to check the best place to anchor overnight.’

‘And what happens tomorrow, Joe?’ Koko asked softly.

Joe looked up from the chart. Koko was staring at him morosely. All the way southward down the Gulf he had become increasingly withdrawn. Joe had never seen Koko looking so down and his heart went out to him.

‘You know what must happen, Koko. I have to take you to the Nackeroos in Borroloola. It will take most of the day. The river’s too shallow for the Walrus to make it upstream any further than Black Rock Landing. From there we’ll have to make the last twelve miles or so in the dinghy.’

‘Must you turn me in tomorrow? Can’t we wait at the river mouth for one more day just in case the Horan brothers show up?’

‘You know I can’t do that.’

‘But who would ever know. Please...’ Koko pleaded. ‘Please Joe, just one more day.’

Joe sighed. ‘Look, I was lucky no-one pressed charges when I took you with me on Faraway when we left Darwin. I not only took a boat that had been commandeered by the Navy but I knowingly harbored and transported an internee. I know the law’s been hard on you. But it could be very hard on me if I started making my own rules instead of following orders. It’s better for both of us if we do the right thing.’

‘I told you I couldn’t stand to be locked up again, Joe,’ Koko said. He spoke resignedly, staring at the long bread knife in his hand, his voice little more than a whisper. ‘I will not allow them to take me back to Cowra.’

‘Bloody hell, Koko.’ Joe bounded across the cabin floor. He snatched the knife from Koko’s hand. ‘If you’re thinking of doing anything stupid, I’ll have to lock you in the forward cabin.’

For a moment they stood staring at each other eyeball to eyeball. Joe was about to say something else when the amplifier on the radio across the cabin sounded a loud signal. Darwin was about to transmit. Joe sat down at the receiver and grabbed a pencil. A few moments later a coded message came through loud and clear.

When Joe had decoded it he turned to Koko. ‘There’s no need to wait a day for the Groote Eylandt Lady,’ he said grimly. ‘It says here the Nackeroos in Borroloola just reported the Horan brothers have just delivered croc skins to the store in town. They brought them up the river from Black Rock Landing in a dinghy. Darwin wants to know if we can get to the MacArthur River in time to prevent the Groote Eylandt Lady slipping back out to sea.’

‘We can, can’t we Joe?’ Suddenly Koko’s despair had turned to elation

‘Bloody right. They’ll have more than one trip to make upriver with their croc skins, so they won’t be heading out today. Anyway, it’s only possible to navigate the shallow lower reaches of the river in daylight and on the top of the tide. Joe returned to the chart table and checked the tide times for the lower Gulf region, then triumphantly slammed the little book closed. ‘My bet is they’ll leave Black Rock Landing on the high tide at around seven o’clock in the morning,’ he said grimly as he began tapping a reply to Darwin on the Morse code button. ‘I think we’ve finally got the bastards, Koko. ’