Pat Ritter. Books

[patritter]

'The Shearer' - Page 55:

They entered the tin shed where Bluey was lying on the wooden slab, still covered.
‘Take the covers from him and remove his clothing? Here is a pair of scissors. How did he die?’ The doctor asked and handed the Constable a large pair of scissors.
‘Bitten by a snake on the neck, a mulga snake.’
‘Bloody mulga. Do you know they’re the most poisonous snakes out here?’
‘No I didn’t know.’ Constable Fitzgerald removed all of Bluey’s clothing, cutting along the length of his legs to remove his trousers, then his shirt, boots and socks and left him naked on the wooden slab.
The doctor felt a lump on the side of Bluey’s neck and saw bite marks, ‘is this were the snake bit him?’ Doctor Pike asked.
‘Looks like it. The fellow who dragged him out of the river grabbed the snake and cracked its head off.’ Constable Fitzgerald shared with the doctor.
‘Bloody hell he stinks! Give me the knife in the box over there, would you?’ ‘He’s a bit ripe alright. You’d think we’d get used to death after dealing with it so many times, but we never do.’ Constable Fitzgerald handed the doctor a knife.
‘I’ve been in this business far too long and still can’t get the smell of death from my clothing or in the hair of my nostrils. After this is over you come with me and I’ll give you some medicine to take the smell away.’ The doctor made an insertion to Bluey’s neck and continued a cut to the bottom of his stomach near his belly button. He pared away the skin to display Bluey’s ribcage. ‘Hand me those cutters over there?’
TO PURCHASE 'THE SHEARER': CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/395642.

[patritter]

'The Shearer' - Page 56:

After handing the cutters to the doctor Constable Fitzgerald said, ‘I’ve got to go outside for a minute – the smell is horrible.’ He left the shed holding his hand over his mouth.
Since joining the force he’d investigated many deaths and been present at post mortem operations, but this one was nothing like any other he’d experienced. After sucking in fresh breaths of clean air, he returned to the morgue where the doctor had removed Bluey’s ribcage from his body exposing his heart, lungs and kidneys.
‘I’ll take the heart because its colour looks like the poison from the snake reached his heart to cause his death. Being a mulga snake would do it quickly.’ The doctor placed Bluey’s heart into a kidney-shaped bowl, returned the ribcage and stitched Bluey’s skin together from his neck to the bottom of his stomach.
‘That’s it. I’m satisfied he died from a snake bite. I’ll complete the death certificate at my home. You can release the body to the undertaker.’ Doctor Pike completed the task. ‘Cover him and follow me.’ Constable Fitzgerald covered Bluey’s body and followed the doctor.
They left the hospital and walked to the doctor’s home opposite the hospital grounds. ‘Come in Constable. I have some medicine to get rid of this smell.’ Doctor Pike beckoned. Constable Fitzgerald followed the doctor into his home. ‘Take a seat and I’ll get the medicine.’ Doctor Pike opened a cupboard and extracted a bottle of whiskey with one hand and two medicine glasses with the other. He placed the whiskey bottle on the table and removed the lid, poured two fingers of whiskey in each glass, picked up one glass, handed it to the Constable. ‘Here, drink up, this will make you feel better.’ Doctor Pike followed his own advice with one swallow from his glass and emptied it. He refilled both glasses.
TO PURCHASE 'THE SHEARER': CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/395642.

[patritter]

'The Shearer' - Page 57:

‘How do you feel now?’
‘Much better thank you, this did the trick.’ Constable Fitzgerald replied.
‘Drink another while I complete the death certificate.’
When the bottle of whiskey was empty Constable Fitzgerald thanked the doctor, ‘I’d better get to the police station and court house to report this death. See you next time.’ He stood and swayed backward and forward until he got his balance. ‘Must have had too much of your medicine. I’ll be right once I start moving - can’t smell the stink anymore. Thanks for the certificate; I’ll give it to the court house.’ He placed the paper inside his shirt pocket.
‘I told you I had the right medicine,’ Doctor Pike replied. ‘Here I’ll help you out. You’ll be right once you reach fresh air.’ He took Constable Fitzgerald by the arm and helped him through the front door and watched him walk from his home across to his waiting buggy and horse then returned inside.
Constable Fitzgerald staggered across to his buggy, his eyes seeing two buggies and two horses. I’d better pick the right one. He placed his foot onto the buggy, slipped and almost fell backwards, took hold of the front seat, heaved his way onto the seat and took the reins in his right hand. With a giddy-up, the horse slowly walked off the mark heading toward the front gate at the hospital.
TO PURCHASE 'THE SHEARER': CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/395642.

[patritter]

'The Shearer' - Page 58:

How Constable Fitzgerald arrived at the rear of Cunnamulla Police Station he’d never know. Horse is smart; he must’ve known where to come. He looked around and knew he needed to walk the distance from his buggy to the rear steps of the station. A man in uniform approached him. ‘Is that you Ralph?’
Constable Fitzgerald gazed through blurred vision to make out that the person in uniform was Sergeant Gray, the officer-in-charge, ‘Yeah Sarge, I bought a dead person in and after the post mortem Doctor Pike gave me medicine and I think it affected me.’
‘If it’s the same medicine he gives me, I think you ought to sleep it off for awhile before you come inside. Let me help you to the quarters and you can sleep there.’ Sergeant Gray helped Constable Fitzgerald down from the buggy; put an arm under the Constable’s armpit and carried him dragging his feet onto the veranda of the quarters. There he laid him on a mattress and said, ‘See you when you wake up’.
With the sun shone into the eyes of Constable Fitzgerald, he blinked his eyes open. His head throbbed as if a thousand drums beat in his head. He opened his eyes and sat upright, looked around to determine where he was. Realising he’d been asleep the last thing he remembered was being given a drink by Doctor Pike at his home. He slowly pushed himself upright, almost fell and started walking toward the rear stairs of the quarters. Stepping down each step - one at a time - he gathered his wits, stood erect and walked across to the rear veranda of the police station. When he walked up the stairs, Sergeant Gray called, ‘You’ve woken. You must’ve been tired because its three o’clock in the afternoon. How you feeling?’
TO PURCHASE 'THE SHEARER': CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/395642.

[patritter]

'The Shearer' - Page 59:

‘Great Sarge, thanks for helping me. You did help me, didn’t you?’
‘Yeah, I let your horse go in the paddock beside the station and your buggy is outside.’
‘Thank you. Can I use your toilet please?’
‘Yeah – it’s at the back of the station.’
Fitzgerald left the office and after visiting the toilet, returned, ‘I’d better register this fellow’s death.’ He took the certificate from his pocket and handed it to Sergeant Gray.
‘I’ll check to see if he’s a local.’ Gray checked the office records, ‘Here he is, Graham Simpson, known as Bluey, a shearer. He hasn’t any next-of-kin to contact so check with the Court House when you register his death.’
‘Thanks Sarge.’ Fitzgerald walked from the Police Station to the Court House a building next door.
‘Good-day Spike.’ He’d known the Clerk Of The Court by his nickname ‘Spike’ since he’d arrived in Eulo.
Spike looked at Constable Fitzgerald. ‘Look what the cat dragged in! You look awful mate. What can I do for you?’
‘Here’s a death certificate on Bluey Simpson, bitten by a mulga snake yesterday. Had the post mortem this morning and Doctor Pike issued this certificate as to cause of death.’ He handed Spike the certificate.
‘Any next of kin?’
‘Not to our knowledge. Sergeant Gray checked the office files and came up with no one.’
‘Alright, leave it with me. Did he have any property or money?’
TO PURCHASE 'THE SHEARER': CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/395642.

[patritter]

'The Shearer' - Page 60:

‘Yes, I’ve got his swag in the buggy. I’ll leave it with Sergeant Gray.’
‘I’ll follow this up with the council undertaker and fix everything for you as usual. You heading back to Eulo?’ Spike queried.
‘Yeah – I’d like to get back before dark. See you next time I’m in the big city of Cunnamulla.’
He farewelled everyone to return to his town. Once he reached the banks of the Warrego River he plunged into the water, uniform and all, to rid himself the smell of death.

Chapter 8

Joe waved goodbye to the police officer and started walking across the open country toward Tilbooroo Station. As far as the crow flew he estimated his arrival at the station by late afternoon or early evening. A light breeze swept against his body; lucky the country was open with few trees. He sighted a dead tree far in the distance as a bearing to head to. There he’d rest until he regained his strength and walk on to the station.
His mind filled with the death of Bluey, together with seeing the snake latch onto Bluey’s neck. Joe never a favourite of the police; however on this occasion he couldn’t sing their praises loud enough. His mind finally at peace when handing over Bluey’s body to Constable Fitzgerald.
He headed toward the dead tree. Once he reached the dead tree he saw smoke billowing from a shed in the distance. He estimated another three to five miles to walk before reaching his destination.
TO PURCHASE 'THE SHEARER': CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/395642.

[patritter]

'The Shearer' - Page 61:

Taking a rest for half-an-hour he dozed, but couldn’t sleep and soon continued his journey to the homestead. Finally arriving before the sun set in the west the first shearer he met was Jack Reardon. ‘Joe, sorry to hear about Bluey mate, come on in and meet the cook.’
Jack beckoned Joe toward the kitchen - if one could call it a kitchen because unlike his previous station this one resembled an open area with a thrash roof. ‘Scott, this is Joe Ryan, one of our shearers. Joe this is Scott Driscoll, our cook.’ They shook hands.
‘Welcome Joe. Take a seat. We’re about to have dinner - stew and pudden.’ Scott pointed to a spare seat at the table. After a quick introduction to the other workers, a plate of steaming hot stew piled high on an enamel plate placed in front of Joe. ‘Get this into ya - mate.’ Said the cook.
Joe was famished. His taste buds exploded as he forked the morsels into his mouth. He’d not eaten for a couple of days since leaving Moonjaree Station. ‘Where do we sleep?’ Joe asked the person seated beside him.
‘Out on the flat mate. There’re no shearers quarters here. If it rains, we get wet.’ He replied.
At that moment Joe thought of an idea - probably the most important idea to ever enter his mind. Why do shearers need to put up with these conditions and wages for the work they do? They’re not slaves. What could he do about these conditions? He needed the work as did other shearers, but there had to be something done. What could he do?
After dinner he spread his swag on the ground near a gum tree; sleeping under the stars didn’t worry Joe because he’d been used to it. What about these other shearers and the young ‘tar boy’? Memories of when he was a similar age to the ‘tar boy’ surfaced. At least he had a good shearing contractor to lean on until he graduated to become a shearer.
TO PURCHASE 'THE SHEARER': CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/395642.