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a round, ruddy face and thinning hair. Every now and then he wiped beads of sweat from his brow and cheeks. He looked as if he really belonged in a comfortable, air-conditioned city office rather than doing police work in this remote part of South Australia.
    â€˜All right,’ Alec almost whispered as he regained control of his voice, ‘but then please can we do something instead of just sitting here?’ His frustration remained palpable.
    The sergeant ignored the tone of the question, leaned forward and quietly said, ‘This time we’ll make a few notes. I’ve brought a map so you can explain exactly where you were. We’ll probably regard your wife and child as missing persons at this stage and make out a miss. per. report. Most missing persons turn up within twenty-four hours, so I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you. The young lady here will make a few notes for the record.’ He nodded towards the young woman seated at the end of the table. ‘We’ll type up a draft report based on what you tell us, and then, after you’ve read it, you can sign it. After we have it all down in writing we can do something about it.’
    Alec glanced at the young woman with the note book. She returned a half smile and picked up her pen, poised to write. Alec expected only police to be present during an interview but soon realised administrative work was done by civilians. Since it was only recently that women had been allowed to join the force as officers she was not in a uniform and wore no wedding ring. Marriage would mean that her resignation was required. Alec gave her a quick smile of greeting in return.
    After a moment’s silence and an impatient sigh, Alec began to repeat what he had told the duty officer half an hour previously. ‘We were driving along the track next to the dog-proof fence near the Yumbarra Conservation Area —’
    â€˜Why were you there? That’s a long way off the main roads.’
    In spite of his growing frustration at the delays, it was clear that Alec was going to have to repeat every detail or be interrupted again and again. He wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve, swallowed his irritation and continued. ‘Well, I’m a post-graduate research student at Adelaide Uni, studying geology. As part of the research for my thesis, I’m collecting granite samples from the area between here and Yorke Peninsula. There are some outcrops in the Yumburra Conservation Area and we were returning from there —’
    â€˜Outcrops?’
    â€˜Yes, areas where the rocks are exposed at the surface.’
    â€˜Okay. Show me on the map roughly where you went.’ Murray looked across at the secretary who, on cue, unrolled the large map of the region.
    More interruptions, but at least this time Alec could indicate the area where they had been and that might help in any search. He stood and leaned over the map on the table. It showed only the main road and a few tracks marked in red. Alec pointed to an area, almost devoid of red markings.
    â€˜This is where we went. This black line along here is the dog fence. The track we were on runs just south of the fence line.’
    His finger traced along the map where no track showed. ‘It was about here that the Kombi broke down. I’m not exactly sure where on this map, but it was approximately here, near Googs Lakes.’ Alec tapped his index finger on an area on the map where the plan showed a distinct right angle bend in the dog fence. The name was a misnomer because the ‘lakes’ were just large expanses of white salt in low depressions. Alec recalled the intense glare of reflected sunlight as he walked near them on his search for rocks.
    â€˜Uh-huh,’ was the non-committal response from Murray as he leaned across to see where Alec was pointing. A bead of sweat ironically dropped on to the map outline of the salt lake. ‘The Kombi is a