Read Online Through a Camel's Eye by Dorothy Johnston - Free Book Online Page A

being left to find her own line through to what was important.

ELEVEN
    Anthea found Chris sitting at his desk, which was covered with notes on bits of paper in his small, backsloping handwriting.
    He looked up, flushed with excitement.
    â€˜Margaret Benton was definitely here in Queenscliff. She and her husband rented a cabin at the van park.’
    While Anthea had been with Julie, Chris had started at the top end of the main street and called in at each of the businesses and shops. Most of the shopkeepers thought he was back to ask about the camel, and a few teased him for not having found it yet.
    â€˜Maybe the little fella’s run away to the circus,’ one suggested, and another, ‘Maybe those greenies’ve got him, on account of being feral and a pest.’
    Chris had laughed and replied, ‘That’s in the Northern Territory, you oaf. What you’ve got to worry about is cats like Snowy here.’
    When he’d stopped by the caravan park, he’d found the office unlocked, but empty.
    Ben came when he rang the bell, looking sullen and wary.
    â€˜Mum and Dad’ve gone into Geelong. I’ve got the day off cos I’m sick.’
    â€˜I’m sorry to hear that, Ben. This’ll only take a moment. I just want you to tell me where you’ve seen this woman before.’
    â€˜I never - ’ Ben began, turning white like Ian Lawrey had.
    â€˜It was here, wasn’t it? When was Margaret Benton here?’
    Ben’s face was blank, the practised blank of adolescents. Chris waited for what might be going on beneath this.
    He said finally, ‘We were full up all of January.’
    â€˜I can appreciate that. And I can understand how faces must start to look alike.’ He didn’t add, especially the faces of middle-aged women. ‘But you do recognise this lady, don’t you?’
    â€˜I might.’
    â€˜Could you tell your father I’d like to ask him a few questions? I’ll be back in an hour.’
    Anthea told Chris her news. Chris rang Swan Hill police station again. Margaret’s husband, Jack Benton, had been questioned about the coat, but claimed to have no idea how it had got into the sandhills. He said his wife had left him for another man.
    â€˜What do you think?’ Chris asked his assistant.
    Anthea said, ‘If the coat’s been lying there since January, why didn’t someone pick it up?’
    â€˜Maybe it was buried. Maybe kids or a dog dug it up.’
    Chris was thinking that he should have looked for signs of this.
    He returned to the caravan park just as Penny and Alex McIntyre were getting out of their car. From the look of them, their trip to Geelong had not gone well. Penny’s make-up was smudged. Alex was scowling and his lips were pulled in, as though to stop himself from saying something he’d regret.
    Chris hitched up his uniform and approached them, holding out his hand.
    â€˜Alex. Penny. Just a few questions. Shouldn’t take long.’
    When Penny took his hand, Chris felt the tension in it, how it was hot and dry. ‘I have to see about lunch,’ she said.
    Alex watched his wife’s departing back, still frowning, then led the way to the office. He pulled two chairs out from the wall and let himself fall onto one.
    Chris reached in his pocket for a photograph. Instead of looking at it, Alex went round behind the counter and opened his bar fridge.
    â€˜A beer, Blackie? Come on, mate. You can’t stay on duty all the frigging time.’
    â€˜Okay then, a small one. Thanks.’
    Alex smiled a private smile, drank deeply, then wiped his face with a tissue.
    â€˜That’s better.’
    His big frame relaxed as though someone pulled a peg that was holding complicated scaffolding in place. He wiped his face again, then aimed the tissue at a small metal bin, moving slowly to take the photo Chris held out.
    Alex didn’t speak for a long time. When he did, his voice was