All That Glitters: Deceit, Murder, and Passion in the New South Wales Goldfields

By Robert Walker

Having successfully concluded a lengthy court case involving the kidnap and murder of a child, Detective Sergeant Grant Williams is looking forward to enjoying a well-earned vacation. After an abortive attempt to join his estranged family on their Gold Coast holiday, he decides to go camping alone at beautiful, peaceful Tumut in the southern New South Wales Snowy Mountains region. This will give him a chance to finally relax and reflect. Or will that be possible?
While having a couple of drinks at a hotel in Tumut, Grant befriends some locals who are talking about the reopening of the Adelong gold fields a short distance from Tumut. He accepts an invitation to visit a local gold mine owned by one of his newfound friends. As a result of a slight miscommunication, Grant goes into the wrong mine where he discovers two recently deceased bodies. He reports his discovery to the local police.
Grant receives advice from his boss in Sydney that local police are not able to handle the matter due to other critical cases, so Sydney Homicide must take the case. As Grant was already in the area, his boss asks him to curtail his holiday and lead the investigation. Grant agrees and enlists the help of a very attractive local officer, Constable Sophie Laycock. Before long, strong feelings develop, and they share some steamy sex scenes while they are investigating the murders. Experiences they share bring Grant and Sophie ever closer together.
There is much interest and excitement for the local community with recovery of the bodies, use of helicopter transport, involvement of the drug squad, and a local motorcycle gang. The sleepy township of Adelong will never be the same again.
Note: Adult story with strong language and sex scenes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: May 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543408935

Robert Walker

Robert Walker is recently retired after fifty-plus years of active work life, firstly in the international aviation industry and, more recently, in managing aged care homes. He is a graduate of the Writing School, covering such diverse subjects as novellas, poetry, short stories, radio, television, and stage plays. He has long held a passion for exploring and fossicking outback Australian mining areas. In particular, he has chased gold, opals, and gemstones. His travels following this passion have taken him to Lightning Ridge (home of the famous black opals) as well as to the Snowy Mountains region, Bathurst, Sofala, Gulgong, and Hill End, sites involved in the New South Wales gold rush of the mid to late 1800s. This novel, his first, is the realisation of a dream to share some of his outback experiences, encapsulated in a murder-mystery.

Book preview

1

A h! This is what I call relaxation!

Standing thigh-deep in the picturesque Tumut River, fly-fishing for trout, what could be better?

I had already caught a pan-sized rainbow trout, but a timid brown trout had so far eluded me.

It was time to think and reflect. I’d earned this break, and camping in peaceful Tumut was just the medicine I needed to get back to normal.

The court case last week had been a long and nasty one. Child kidnappers always made the hair on the back of my neck stand up! And if they then resorted to murdering the innocent young kid, that was it for me!

I thought of the elation after our success with the court case.

***

‘Thank God that’s finally over!’ The gravelly voice of my boss, Detective Superintendent Larry Reilly, echoed across the witness waiting area. As he slapped his hand firmly on my shoulder, he said, ‘Great job, Grant. We finally put that bastard where he belongs. Goulburn maximum security for a long, long time.’

It had been a long and very taxing trial, over four months from the opening statements to the sentencing. We had to struggle through a jury-tampering incident, a heart attack of one of the jurors, and three weeks of deliberations before the jury could finally reach a unanimous decision. I knew that child kidnapping and murder could be a very tricky case, but for the jury to take three weeks to agree, when it seemed to us to be an open-and-shut case, we started to think we must have screwed up somehow or someone on the jury … Never mind. It was over at last.

Outside the courtroom, the press piranhas were jostling for a few words from us so they could splash the front pages of their morning editions with some juicy figment of their imagination based very loosely on what we actually said.

‘When did you think you had won?’

‘Why did the jury take so long?’

‘Do you think there will be an appeal?’

‘Can you give us a statement?’

‘Whoa!’ the boss shouted. ‘Give us a chance to catch our breath!’

He moved on to the top step of the building entrance.

‘We are very satisfied with the outcome. We believe justice has been served, and we hope Peter’s parents and family can move on after they have had time to grieve, knowing that the animal who took little Peter from them will spend the rest of his life in prison. I want to publicly thank Detective Sergeant Grant Williams and his team for their untiring efforts leading up to and during this long trial. They are a credit to the New South Wales Police Force. That is all we will be saying at this time. Thank you.’

With that, we moved down the steps and into the relative peace of the police vehicle waiting to take us for a quiet celebratory drink or two (or five).

Finnegan’s Irish Pub was our usual watering hole, and we often migrated there after a successful outcome, whether it be an investigation, arrest, or as in this case, a trial. Sometimes we have even drowned our sorrows there after an unfortunate outcome. Any reason was a good reason to down a couple at Finnegan’s.

Tonight, though, seemed different from the usual. Sure, the usual crowd was there. We had our usual drinks and told our usual tall stories. But I wasn’t feeling in a particularly celebratory mood. For the two months leading up to the arrest and then later in the year, preparing for the trial, I had worked long into the night on many occasions—surveillance, double-checking evidence, assigning tasks to members of my team, writing reports, preparing briefs for the Crown—my marriage had suffered, not to mention my health and my relationship with my two kids.

Finnegan’s wasn’t usually a place for deep contemplation, so after four or five beers with my team and the boss, I said my goodnights and left for home in a cab.

***

The campsite I chose was close to one we had used a number of times, the latest about ten years ago when I was caravanning with Donna and our two kids. The kids were only quite young then; Cassie was about six and Jack was about four. We had a great time fishing and swimming in the river, cooking on an open fire that we built inside an old washing machine barrel, toasting marshmallows, and telling scary stories. It sometimes felt good to reminisce about the good times, even though at present they seemed just distant memories, almost surreal. Since my separation from Donna, many things had become distant memories.

I first developed an interest in the Tumut District when I was about eleven years old, at primary school. We built a working model of the Snowy Mountains Hydro-Electric Scheme. Tumut was one of the major centres in the scheme, with three power stations that now supplied electricity to New South Wales and Victoria. The Snowy scheme was by far the largest engineering project ever undertaken in Australia. It was commenced in 1949 and completed in 1974. It was also one of the largest and most complex hydroelectric schemes in the world.

When I visited Tumut, I often reminisced about our sense of achievement at my primary school when we completed our model and it was put on public display. I guess Tumut would always occupy a special place in my heart. Little did I suspect that events and developments over the next couple of weeks would turn that special place upside down and change it forever!

I became aware of a vehicle approaching my campsite. As it drew closer, I could see that it was a police wagon. A female constable left the vehicle and headed towards the river where I was fishing.

‘DS Williams?’ she called.

‘Yeah! How can I help you?’

‘A word please, sir.’

I climbed up the bank, eyes fixed on the uniform. Wow! I had never seen a uniform so perfectly filled out! She was about 165 centimetres tall, with curves and bumps in all the right places, and there was a strain on the buttons across her ample breasts. Her honey-blonde hair was styled in such a way that it emphasised her gorgeous face. Then I moved to the face—breathtakingly beautiful with a sexy glint in her eyes! I wished the female constables in our district looked as spectacular as the one I was staring at.

Down, boy, down!

‘Constable … ?’

‘Constable Sophie Laycock, sir.’

God, even her name sounds sexy! My lack of sex for the last three months was starting to control my thought processes in the presence of this vision.

‘How can I be of help, Constable Laycock?’

‘We received a message at our station from your Parramatta office. They want you to phone Superintendent Reilly. They tried your cell phone, but this is a huge blackspot along the river.’

‘I guess I’d better accompany you to the station, Constable.’

‘Yes, sir. Climb in and I’ll give you a ride back to town.’

Oh, Sophie Laycock, you must be a mind reader. I would love to climb in for a ride!

I snapped out of my daydream when she opened the passenger side door of the van and motioned me inside.

2

‘I’m supposed to be on holiday for three weeks, Constable. I wonder what the hell could be so important that the boss needs to interrupt my time off.’

‘I am not sure, sir, but it could be about those bodies you found yesterday up at the mine site in Adelong.’

‘I thought the detectives at Wagga would handle that case. Can’t imagine what the boss expects me to do. I don’t want to tread on the locals’ toes,’ I replied.

‘Don’t know, sir.’

I started thinking, What would I say if the boss wants me to take on this case? Hell, I was looking forward to some quiet time, and God knows I have earned it. Must be nearly three years since I’ve had a decent break.

In a way, though, it would seem logical that we handled it at Homicide Central. Since the restructure of the NSW Police into local area commands (LAC) and centralised special units, we did get involved in homicides that would previously have been handled by country stations, especially in remote areas. We liked to think there was better quality and improved efficiencies in our investigations that could not possibly have been done by country stations with their limited resources. We certainly were seeing more successful closures, and cold cases were getting greater attention. I needed to find out something about the local operations.

‘Tumut is covered by Cootamundra LAC isn’t it, Constable?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Any twenty-four-hour stations in the LAC?’

‘No, sir. Our area commander has been pushing for a twenty-four-hour operation at Cootamundra station, but nothing yet. Wagga Wagga station is twenty-four hours, but that is in the Wagga Wagga LAC. I think Queanbeyan in the Monaro LAC is also twenty-four hours. Why do you ask?’

‘Just getting an idea of the operation of the local area commands around here, preparing myself for what the boss may have in mind when I call him. If he is expecting me to pick up on this case, I will need some local assistance, possibly round-the-clock.’

The seventeen-kilometre trip back to town took about twenty minutes over some roughish country roads. This section of the Snowy Mountains Highway had suffered a bit during the last couple of winters and could certainly use some maintenance. Still, I was happy with every bump we drove through. The jiggling and bouncing of Constable Sophie Laycock’s full breasts held my undivided attention. A couple of times during the rougher sections, I was sure she noticed me drooling. After all, I hadn’t been with a woman for the last three months following my separation from Donna.

‘It’s a bit rough in some sections, isn’t it, sir?’ she said with a smile.

‘Nah, it’s fine by me,’ I replied.

She just smiled with a knowing chuckle. I had been so preoccupied with Sophie’s chest that I barely noticed the rest of her body, so I reluctantly redirected my attention. Her short fair hair was styled around her face so that it emphasised her high cheekbones and classic chin. Her pert nose sat perfectly between two dark come-hither eyes. All this beauty was topped off with full lips that glistened with deep cerise lipstick.

I was sounding like a fashion commentator, but that was how I saw her when I took the time to look at the complete package. And what a perfect package!

‘I’d be only too happy to work with you, if my sergeant gives the OK. And I could be available round-the-clock,’ she said with a raised eyebrow and a sparkle in her dark eyes.

My mind was running wild with visions of Sophie Laycock and myself working together round-the-clock. I was not sure if Sophie and I were on the same page, but it suited me to think we could be.

‘Thanks for the offer, Constable. I just may take you up on that.’

As we passed Tumut Airport. I asked if there were any regular air services in operation.

‘No, sir. As far as I know, it’s only for recreational flights and the aero club, although I imagine charter flights could be arranged from Wagga Wagga. It would be only a few minutes by air, much quicker than the hour or so by road.’

We turned into Wynyard Street, and I could immediately see the cream-painted police station and its accompanying buildings. It was a very neat-looking campus, on the edge of the shopping centre. Across the road was the Oriental Hotel, a sombre-looking grey building in the grand old colonial style, with Paddington Lace wrought iron along the balcony of the upper level. It must be well over one hundred years old. I can imagine what changes this old girl had witnessed over that time.

Having been interested in the Tumut District for some time, I had researched some of the history of the area.

The original name of Tumut was Doomut, which meant ‘a camping place’ in the local Aboriginal language. Aborigines used to hold corroborees here and perform their ceremonial dances where the town now stood.

The area was explored by Hume and Hovell in 1824. The exploring party consisted of Hamilton Hume, W. H. Hovell (a retired shipmaster, who was chosen because of his knowledge of navigation), and six assigned servants. They had two carts, drawn by bullocks, in which to carry their supplies, and several horses. In November 1824 they discovered a major stream they named Medway. It was believed that this was now known as the Tumut River.

The Catholic Church of the Immaculate Conception in Carey Street stood out as one of the major buildings of the town. It was built of blue trachyte stone from Adelong and was in a prime position. This church had an interesting background. The present building was the second Catholic Church of the Immaculate Conception. The original building that was completed in 1860 was found to be too small, so it was replaced by the current building in 1878.

In the early 1900s, the Chinese were highly successful tobacco-growers in the district. The district had been described by an American visitor conversant with the details of tobacco cultivation as the Australian Virginia, as it apparently strongly resembled that American state with regard to soil and climate.

The Tumut-to-Gundagai railway was completed in June 1903. Prior to that time, travel to Tumut from Sydney was by rail to Gundagai and by horse-drawn coach for the last fifty or so kilometres. The official opening of the railway was in October 1903.

After parking in the area reserved for police vehicles, we entered through the staff-only entrance. I was immediately greeted by the station sergeant. ‘DS Williams. Raynard Barbera. Call me Ray. Welcome to our station.’

‘Please call me Grant,’ I replied and shook the hand he extended. ‘Great station, Ray. A lot more room to work than they give us at Parramatta. Thanks for sending Constable Laycock to collect me. What’s this all about?’

‘Had a call first thing this morning from Detective Superintendent Reilly. He wants you to call him back. From what I could gather, it is about those two deceased you called in yesterday. We passed it on to Wagga LAC. We don’t have the manpower or depth here to handle lengthy investigations. This one looks like it could involve quite a bit of time and resources. Use the phone in my office, Grant.’ Ray pointed to an open office door.

I closed behind me as I entered. I picked up the phone and dialled. I was immediately struck by how clean it smelled—nothing like mine. The whole office was so clean and tidy I was almost envious.

‘Gaz, it’s Grant. Apparently, the boss asked me to call. Is he in? … Yeah, I can wait till he finishes his call.’

‘Grant. Thanks for calling back. I know you’re on leave, but we find ourselves with a bit of a situation. I’m asking you to put your leave on hold for a while. I would like you to take the investigation into the deaths you reported up at the Adelong mine site.’

‘Happy to help if I can, boss, but isn’t it out of our jurisdiction?’

‘I had a call from Dugal McGlasson, local area commander in Wagga Wagga. We were both in a training course at Goulburn academy a couple of years ago. It seems that the Tumut sergeant passed the case to Wagga Wagga LAC via his commander. Dugal says they are up to their arses in work at present with those drug cases in Griffith. Apparently, Griffith LAC detectives are short-staffed, so they asked Wagga for some manpower. It seems like they have a pretty hefty case with political overtones, if you know who I mean, so they cannot afford to be anything but 100 per cent accurate this time. Can’t risk any stuff-ups. Commander McGlasson was hoping that we would have enough staff to handle the Adelong case. There have been a couple of developments since you called the bodies in yesterday. The Wagga uniforms discovered one more body in the mine and a collection of bones in shafts adjoining the one you were in. I agreed that we would run with it, at least in the initial stages. And of course, I thought, seeing you are already in the vicinity and aware of two deaths, I would put it to you.’

‘Christ, boss, I’m going to need some assistance—local for preference—and some clearances. Yes, of course, I will take it on, if you think that would be best.’

‘Thanks, Grant. I knew I could count on you. I was hoping you would agree to this, so I asked Commander Bowen to contact Commander Richardson of Cootamundra LAC and Commander McGlasson to clear the way. All agreed that you are to have whatever resources you need as long as it would not create any major impact on local operations. I’ll have that to you in writing first thing tomorrow. Check the messages at Tumut. As far as your leave is concerned, I will credit it all back plus two weeks when you clear up this mess. OK?’

‘What about the rest of my team?’

‘Let me know what you find, Grant. If it’s as the Wagga guys reported, then I’ll tell DI Crompton to organise your team as soon as you let me know.’

‘OK. Thanks, boss. I’ll start tomorrow morning. Cheers.’

‘Thanks, Grant. Keep me informed, especially if anybody gets in your way.’

As I emerged from Ray’s office, I felt all ten eyes on me in anticipation of a briefing about my conversation.

My first impression of Sergeant Ray Barbera was that he spent more time organising and tidying his office than he did organising the workload of his station. A senior constable was turned away from his desk, chatting quite audibly on the phone, presumably with a friend, about the weekend football game. His team seemed to have missed out on a semi-final spot for the third year running. He wanted to change the club management and the entire coaching staff. I heard a complete rundown of each committee member and what each team member thought of them. A constable, who I later discovered was Gordon Gutherson, was just staring blankly out the window until he noticed me coming out of Ray’s office. The office assistant, a middle-aged woman wearing the name badge ‘Glenda’ in large bold letters, was reading a Dolly magazine. Constable Sophie Laycock, the only one actually doing something meaningful, was answering the phone at the front desk, a call about a lost bicycle. And Ray was leaning back in a chair with his arms locked behind his head, looking at the ceiling. Not a great impression for me or for anybody coming into the station.

‘Ray, could I have a word, mate?’

Ray joined me in his office, and we closed the door. I gave him a rundown of my conversation and what had been agreed between myself and my boss as well as between the three area commanders. I found it a little strange that he did not seem surprised that there had been another body and some bones found in the mine. He could see the logic in me taking the case, but he was concerned about what resources I would want from him.

‘I can provide a vehicle for as long as you need it, and administration assistance with office resources and such. But I am not so sure about personnel. We are pretty bloody busy at present. One of my senior constables is off with a lung infection for at least three weeks, so that leaves me with only one senior, two juniors, and a part-time office assistant.’

It didn’t strike me that they were ‘pretty bloody busy at present’, but if that was what he liked to think, it was none of my business.

‘I don’t imagine I would need a senior, Ray, but I could use someone with good local knowledge. Can you release one of the juniors?’ I was hoping he couldn’t read my mind, but at the same time, I wanted him to at least get my vibes that I would love Constable Sophie Laycock to be released in my tender care.

‘I guess either of the juniors would be OK,’ Ray said. ‘Laycock has been in Tumut for a longer continuous period than Gutherson. Although Gutherson’s family has owned property hereabouts for generations, he was away from the area for about seven years at boarding school before he started at the academy in Goulburn. So he would have good local knowledge, even though there is a gap in its currency. I’ll put it to them and ask for a volunteer.’

Ray called the two junior constables into his office.

‘I am asking for a volunteer to be assigned to DS Williams for a couple of weeks to assist with an investigation into a number of suspicious deaths up at the Adelong gold mine sites. You will be under DS Williams’s supervision for the entire time, and you will not be reporting to this station unless he asks you to do so.’

Gutherson jumped in straight away. ‘My family owns a couple of mining leases at Adelong, Sergeant, so I would be happy to work there with DS Williams.’

I could see Gutherson was really keen to be part of the operation, but he was not whom I had in mind. I almost blurted out, ‘What about you, sexy Sophie? I was hoping you would be first to volunteer.’

The next instant, I heard what I wanted to hear.

‘Sergeant, I would like the experience, and I have