Blood at Yellow Water

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  SATURDAY MORNING - CANBERRA

  Jake arose early and walked from his motel to the nearest newsagency and bought a copy of the National newspaper. He walked into a café, ordered scrambled eggs and coffee and spread out the paper. There were two stories on the front page, one was the latest poll on the political parties showing that the Government’s popularity was still sliding downwards, the other in big bold headlines reading “LAND RIGHTS CORRUPTION LINK TO MURDER”. There followed an article under the by-line of Helen Kwang detailing payments made to Bert O’Shea, President of the Kakadu Land Council in the negotiation of land rights to develop the mine at Jabiru. The article continued onto Page Two where specific allegations were made about corruption in the Land Council and linking it to the hit-run murder of Barry Buckstone.

  He rang Bill and outlined the contents of the article. Bill seemed excited and said that Lizzie had heard that the police had found O’Shea dead at his home. The whole town was buzzing over the news.

  Jake finished his coffee and pressed Helen Kwang’s number on his mobile. She answered within a few seconds. Jake congratulated her on her article in the National.

  “The story’s largely thanks to you Jake. I’m getting swamped with calls over this. I keep telling people to wait till tomorrow’s edition of the paper.”

  Jake reiterated what he had heard about O’Shea’s death.

  “Jake do you know whether it was suicide or something else?”

  “No, it’s too early to know that at this stage.”

  “God, this case gets more sinister every day. O.K., I’ll chase this up and verify it. This will add some extra juice to tomorrow’s article.”

  “Listen, I’ve got some news for you Jake. Percy staked out the Manuka Post Office and guess who turned up to collect our bogus parcel?”

  “It wouldn’t by chance be our new Prime Minister would it?”

  “Correct! What’s more I’ve found out who signed the registration for the Post Box number at the post office.”

  “Surely not Crichton?”

  “No, but close. It was signed by Anthony Wiley, 32 Hugheson Street, Garran, A.C.T.”

  “Crichton’s Chief-of-Staff! Oh wow, that’s good enough.”

  “Well it wouldn’t necessarily prove anything in a court of law - but it tells us that Crichton’s up to his neck in this.”

  Jake paused for a second and said, “What’s your next step Helen?”

  “I’m going to follow-up this story about O’Shea’s death and see if I can find someone to speak about it. My Editor-in-Chief insists on checking with some top level government officials before publishing my article about the contract on rare earths.”

  “They’ll deny everything of course. You could start with John Fisher, the Commissioner of the AFP. He’s a straight-shooter and understands the political repercussions.”

  “Right, I’ll ring him. Will you be around Canberra for a while Jake?”

  “Well, I’m scheduled to go to Sydney and Melbourne to talk to some Australian companies about the new Japan Australia Treaty. I’m planning to go to Sydney tomorrow afternoon.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll keep in touch with you over the O’Shea business.”

  “I look forward to reading your article tomorrow.”

  “Great Jake, keep an eye on our on-line news as well in case something breaks this afternoon.”

  “Will do. Thanks again for the dinner last night.” Jake rang off.