Pat Ritter. Books

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‘What’s up – you thinking about your mate here? Don’t worry about what happened, it wasn’t your fault. 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.

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.
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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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‘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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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?’
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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.
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‘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.
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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?’
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