Pat Ritter. Books

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'The Shearer' - Page 48:

‘Hate to disturb you Constable, but I’m Joe Ryan. My mate, Bluey Simpson, got bitten by a snake when we crossed Moonjaree Creek this morning. He died. I covered his body with gibbers. I’m here to report his death,’ Joe stammered. He didn’t like police, they made him nervous. Only time he’d known them was when he was locked in the police cells.
‘No good worrying about it now. Are you staying the night?’ Constable Fitzgerald asked, his voice much lower and warmer tone.
‘Yeah, I’ll book into the Eulo Queen.’
‘Be here at daybreak. You can show me where you left your mate. I’ll have the buggy ready to leave when the sun rises.’
‘Can I leave his swag here with you? It’s all he owned.’ Joe asked, lifting Bluey’s swag from his shoulder.
‘Put it in here,’ Constable Fitzgerald pointed to a spot inside. Joe followed the Constable’s instruction.
‘See you in the morning.’ Joe turned and left the police shack to walk to the hotel. He’d heard rumours about Isabel Gray, the publican known as Eulo Queen who owned the hotel, plus other rumours she’d been married three times, dealt in sly-grog, and a gambler and opal trader. When the bar doors swung open a voice above the crowded bar, ‘What’re you doing here Joe? Where’s Bluey?’
The owner of the voice Graham Johnson, a shearer who’d worked at Kahmoo Station, ‘Sorry mate, Bluey’s dead, bitten by a snake when we crossed the Moonjaree Creek this morning,’ Joe explained.
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'The Shearer' - Page 49:

A hush came across the bar; silence, ‘What’d you mean Bluey’s dead?’ Graham exploded, looking Joe directly in the eye.
‘I reported his death to the Constable. We’re leaving daylight tomorrow to recover his body.’ Joe explained.
Graham moved beside Joe and put his hand on his shoulder, ‘How you going mate?’
‘It was terrible. Nothing I could do. When a bloody mulga latched onto his neck I was about ten feet away. The water was flowing fast and the rain pelting down in bucket loads. I grabbed the bastard by its tail and swung it above my head cracked its head off. Dragged Bluey to the side of the bank but he died.’
A stockman sitting at the bar next to Joe and Graham said, ‘Yeah, know what you mean mate. Out the back of Winnigin Station there was a mad bugger working there who’d gallop his horse after a mulga snake, lean down from his saddle, grab the snake by the end of its tail, swing it around like a whip and crack its head off. One day he missed the tail and the snake leaped up and grabbed him by his cheek. Dead before he hit the ground. They’re dangerous buggers. Good on ya Joe – give the man a bloody beer will you Isabel?’
Isabel poured a beer into a tumbler, wandered over to where Joe stood and placed it in front of him, ‘Here you are precious, and have a drink on the house.’ She smiled and returned to her spot on a stool behind the bar.
Joe picked the drink up and with one gulp finished it and asked for another. When Isabel came to collect the tumbler, he asked, ‘you wouldn’t have a room for the night, would you?’
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Thanks dub: 'The Shearer' - Page 50:

‘Sorry precious, we’re full to the brim. How about you throw your swag on the back veranda?’
‘Thanks, I’m much obliged. How much do you want for this beer?’ Joe asked.
‘It’s on the house. When you’re ready take yourself and your swag out the back.’ Joe swallowed his beer, lifted his swag onto his shoulder and bid everyone a good night. When he walked onto the back veranda he threw his swag onto the floor, unrolled it, lay down with his boots on and was soon asleep.
Before daylight the next morning, Joe stood at the front of the police station ready to go with Constable Fitzgerald. True to his word, the police officer sat on a buggy hitched to a brown gelding. ‘You ready?’ The Constable called to Joe who nodded.
He threw his swag in the back of the buggy and jumped up onto the front seat beside the Constable who gave the horse a giddy-up and they were on their way. Nothing was said between the two.
‘Follow the bank, down that way.’ Joe indicated after they’d travelled almost ten miles south of Eulo.
‘Where were you two going?’ Constable Fitzgerald asked.
‘Tilbooroo Station’ for shearing, we’re supposed to be there tonight to start tomorrow.’
‘You should be there tonight. After we dig up your mate I’ll need to take him into Cunnamulla Hospital to have a post mortem done. I’ll get your particulars before you leave. If you walk fast you’ll make the station by late afternoon, about ten miles across country.’
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'The Shearer' - Page 51:

‘Is this all you want me for?’ Joe scratched his head and looked puzzled.
‘Yeah – what did you think? Did you think I was going to arrest you for murder?’ The Constable joked.
‘Ah – thanks – not far now, see the pile of gibbers over there?’ Joe pointed relieved.
‘Yeah – giddy up old boy.’ He urged his horse into a trot and headed toward the pile of gibbers.
They removed the gibbers from around Bluey: he looked as if he’d been asleep rather than dead, his arms folded across his chest, face pale.
‘Come on, you take his legs and I’ll take his shoulders. He should be stiff from rigor mortis,’ Constable Fitzgerald bent down.
Joe placed his arms around Bluey’s stiff legs whilst the Constable held Bluey’s shoulders. ‘One, two, three – lift’, the Constable shouted and both men lifted Bluey to carry him to the rear of the buggy. They covered him completely from head to toe with canvas, tied ropes in places to secure the body so it wouldn’t roll from the buggy.
Constable Fitzgerald said, ‘You want a cuppa before you leave?’ Joe nodded.
Joe built a fire to heat the water for the billy. The Constable prepared their cuppa. They sat on a log after they’d filled their mugs with tea.
‘Have you ever seen a dead body, before, apart from Bluey?’ Constable Fitzgerald asked, as he sipped his tea.
‘Ah… no – Bluey is the first.’
‘What’s up – you thinking about your mate here? Don’t worry about what happened, it wasn’t your fault.
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'The Shearer' - Page 52:

You did well to get the snake off his neck and kill it.’ Constable Fitzgerald’s compassion seeped into Joe’s soul, he’d thought all coppers were bad but they had their job to do and this was one Joe never would’ve like to have.
‘What’s next?’ Joe asked.
‘You go off to your shearing and try and ‘get on with your life’. I’ll take Bluey into Cunnamulla where the doctor will perform a post-mortem. Do you know if he had any relatives?’
‘I don’t know – he never mentioned anyone. I’ve known him a couple of years, but when you’re shearing we don’t delve into another person’s life.’ Joe explained.
‘I’ll check at the local hospital and police station and if he’s got relatives, I’ll let them know. After the post-mortem I’ll arrange burial, and return to Eulo. Probably see you around if you’re ever in Eulo again.’ Constable Fitzgerald put his hand out to shake Joe’s. Joe bid the Constable farewell, took a final look at Bluey as he bowed his head, muttered a few words, pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes and walked west carrying his swag over his right shoulder.
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'The Shearer' - Page 53:

Chapter 7

Constable Fitzgerald climbed upon the seat of the buggy, clicked the reins and called on the horse to move. Only a couple of hours into Cunnamulla and the heat of the day climbed to hot and beat down on the Constable’s back. Perspiration built on his brow and he wiped his forehead with the back of his right forearm.
Reaching the outskirts of Cunnamulla; instead of driving along the main street he detoured behind the sand hills south of town. He didn’t want to be disturbed until he reached the hospital and hoped the doctor would immediately be available to perform the post-mortem. After he reached the hospital and reined the horse to a stop. He climbed down from the seat and entered via the rear entrance and walked to where the Matron normally sat. Once his eyes refocused on the dark inside of the hospital he saw the Matron seated behind her desk.
‘Good morning to you Matron. I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Constable Fitzgerald from Eulo,’ he said.
She raised her head, eyes beneath a white cap looking directly ahead, ‘What do you want?’
‘I’m looking for the doctor. I’ve bought in a deceased person,’ Constable Fitzgerald replied trying to look away from the Matron.
‘He’s doing his rounds. I’ll tell him you’re here. Go wait out the back and I’ll send him to you when he’s finished,’ Matron answered quietly.
‘Can I deliver the body to the morgue?’ Constable Fitzgerald asked referring to a tin shed built away from the main section of the hospital in the corner of the grounds.
‘I’ll send someone to help you.’ She rose from her seat and swiftly walked down the corridor to disappear among the hospital beds. By the time Constable Fitzgerald returned to his buggy a youth with a smile stood talking to the horse.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Constable Fitzgerald asked.
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'The Shearer' - Page 54:

‘I’m here to help you with what you’ve got to do. Matron sent me.’ He replied in a squeaky voice, ‘Jus’ saying hi to your horse. I love horses.’
‘Good. Climb aboard. We’re taking this body to the morgue.’ Constable Fitzgerald commanded the youth who climbed up on the buggy seat and sat beside the Constable.
‘We’ll get him inside. You think you’re strong enough to lift this fellow?’ Constable Fitzgerald asked.
‘Yeah – I think so;’ the youth muttered, walking to the rear of the buggy. ‘Which end do you want me to carry?’
‘Take his legs and I’ll take the head and shoulder. Ready, one…two…three, lift.’ They carried his stiff body under the shed roof and laid him on a wooden slab used as a table to perform post mortem operations.
‘That’ll do.’ Constable Fitzgerald, ‘you can go now and thank you. I’ll wait for the doctor.’ The youth left without a word.
Constable Fitzgerald waited in the shade of a nearby pepperina tree. Under the shed roof was hot and uncomfortable and Bluey’s body had begun to decompose. His thoughts on how the doctor would perform the post-mortem were uppermost in his mind. From the rear entrance at the hospital he saw a man wearing a white dustcoat walk toward him. ‘Are you Constable Fitzgerald?’
‘Yes.’
The man come closer and struck out his hand. ‘I’m Doctor Pike, where’s the body?’
‘This way,’ Constable Fitzgerald indicated.
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