Pat Ritter. Books

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‘How do you know he didn’t purchase a ticket?’ Bundy queried.
‘I had the railway department examine the computer equipment in the ticket machine. They found a ticket was purchased every second day prior to the day Peter disappeared. There was no record of a purchase on the day he disappeared or since.’
‘If that’s the case, we can safely say this was the final place he’d been before his disappearance. Where did he live from here?’ Bundy asked.
‘Two streets back. Mrs Clayton says he always left home to board the train between four-ten and four-fifteen in the afternoon to be on the four-thirty train to visit his grandmother. He was a creature of habit.’
‘Can we leave the car here and walk the streets he would’ve walked on the day?’ Bundy asked. Kate agreed. She locked the police vehicle after placing a sign OFFICIAL POLICE VEHICLE on the front dashboard against the windscreen.
‘This way.’ She walked in front of Bundy a couple of steps tracing the pathway Peter would’ve taken that day. When they crossed the first intersection across the road was a shopping centre.
‘How long has this shopping centre been here?’ Bundy asked.

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‘Only a couple of years. Before it was built it was an open paddock.’
‘Do you know if Peter took a short-cut through this paddock?’ Bundy queried. ‘I don’t know. I could ask Mrs Clayton when we see her. There’s her place over there.’ Kate pointed to a pale blue coloured house in the street behind the shopping centre. ‘We’d better get back to the car – it’s nearing eleven o’clock and I don’t want to be late.’ Kate finished.
‘Okay – on our way back count the number of steps he would’ve taken to get to the overhead railway bridge.’ Bundy asked.
‘Why?’ Kate asked in astonishment.
‘I want to know how many steps it takes to get to the overhead railway bridge – that’s all.’ Bundy answered.
Kate began to count the number of steps from the shopping centre to the steps of the overhead railway bridge. ‘Two hundred and thirty-eight.’ She declared and looked at Bundy. He noted the number. ‘Alright Mr Detective – why did you want me to count these steps?’ Kate asked.
‘I wanted to see if you did what I asked – that’s all. Otherwise there was no point to it.’ Bundy shared with his partner.
‘Are you having a piece of me, for if you are, don’t forget I’m ‘The Boss’ and I’m the one who reports what we do to your mate the Commissioner.’ Kate exploded. ‘Ah, I know you’re ‘The Boss’’, he emphasised, ‘two hundred and thirty-eight steps, at say, three quarters of a metre a step. How far is that?’

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Kate quickly drew her mobile phone from her pocket, flipped the lid, press buttons to calculate the metres, ‘close enough to one hundred and seventy-nine metres.’ Kate answered and closed her mobile telephone and replaced it in her pocket.
‘One hundred and seventy-nine metres – let’s say one hundred and eighty metres to round it off.’ Bundy said.
‘What’s the point?’ Kate asked.
‘Now we have an estimate to gauge of approximately how far he walked and if he left home a good ten minutes seems a lot of time to waste before he reached the station. What do you think?’ Bundy asked.
‘I never looked at it this way. I only looked at the time he left home and the time the train left the station.’ Kate questioned.
‘Did you find out if the train was on-time that particular day?’ Bundy questioned.
‘Yes – it was on-time, exactly four-thirty it arrived at the station.’
‘Alright – let’s visit Mrs Clayton.’ Bundy finished.

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Chapter 5

Mrs Clayton turned out exactly as Kate described her, warm, loving and dedicated wife and mother. She met them at the front door, ‘how are you Kate?’ She smiled, walked toward Kate swung her arms around Kate’s shoulders and kissed her on the cheek, ‘who have you here – a man.’ She exclaimed.
‘This is Bundy Quicksilver; he’s helping me with Peter’s disappearance.’
Mrs Clayton walked up to Bundy threw her right hand to take his extended hand and said, ‘any friend of Kate’s, is a friend of mine. Welcome to my humble abode. Do come in, I’ll place another plate at the table.’
Bundy warmed to this woman immediately, her green eyes bright against the daily sun. She was warm and loving human being. First impressions always paid off, he knew she was an honest and sincere individual.
Kate and Bundy followed her into the home. Instantly Bundy felt comfortable and relaxed. Each room in the house was clean and tidy, almost spotless. Bundy liked it when a house was clean and tidy.
‘Kate, you know where to go – through to the dining room and I’ll set another setting for Mr Quicksilver.’
‘Call me Bundy – all my friends do, even Kate.’ Bundy answered with a smile in his voice.
‘Okay Bundy - that’s a strange name?’ She replied.
‘My parents named me after Bundaberg Rum because if you drink too much it’s like Quicksilver. The name stuck.’ Bundy explained.

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‘Is it short for something other than Bundy?’ She asked.
‘No – it’s Bundy, same as the rum. I think my father must have drunk it on the night I was born.’
‘It’s a lovely name.’ Mrs Clayton walked into the dining room where Kate and Bundy were seated. ‘Bundy, can I impose on you to sit at the head of the table. It’s always nice to have a man at the head of the table.’
Bundy moved from his seat next to Kate and repositioned to the head of the table with Mrs Clayton on his right. She’d prepared a cold meat with salad.
‘What do you drink, Bundy?’ Mrs Clayton asked.
‘Hot chocolate,’ Kate interrupted, ‘he’s a hot chocolate man.’ She grinned and snared at Bundy.
‘Mrs Clayton, I see you’ve made a pot of tea. Tea would be fine, thank you. Hot chocolate is a little joke between Kate and me.’ He answered glaring at Kate.
‘I think instead of calling me Mrs Clayton – why don’t you call me Mary. I’d much prefer you did.’ She said and looked at Bundy.
‘It’s my pleasure – Mary it is.’
Whilst they ate their meal conversation continued more from Kate to explain why Bundy was included into the investigation. Kate explained how the Commissioner contacted Bundy and requested him to assist her with the investigation.

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‘It’s been eight years since he disappeared. Peter will turn twenty in a couple of day’s time. He’s on my mind most of the time; I know you are doing a fine job Kate and now with Bundy on board, we might find out if Peter is dead or alive.’ Mary told the other two.
‘This is an awkward question to ask – Mary. Do you feel Peter is still alive? I know mothers often have a particular feeling about their children.’ Bundy asked.
‘You know Bundy, I dream of Peter most nights, how he’s coping. I know he’s alive. I wouldn’t dream about him otherwise.’ She finished slowly selecting her words carefully.
‘Can you describe these dreams to me?’ Bundy asked in a sincere and concerned voice.
‘Sometimes they’re a little hazy; like I see him standing near a huge shed, built with sheets of tin. He looks unhappy; sad and is taller now. I see it’s him because he’s shovelling dirt, or perhaps it might be something else. I’m not certain.’ She stops, placed her knife and fork beside her plate and takes a tissue from inside her bra.
‘I’m sorry Mary, soon after my wife Ada passed away; she appeared in my dreams nightly. At first I couldn’t tell whether or not she was still alive or only saw her in my dreams.’
‘I have similar dreams of my Les. He passed away two years ago - you know, I miss him terribly but I know in my heart he’s at peace.’ Mary consoled.

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‘Although it’s been nine years since I lost my love, Ada, she continues to appear in my dreams. It’s taken a long time to realise she’d gone to somewhere other than being with me. How I knew she’d gone was, one day about six months after she passed away, I was sitting on the front veranda at home and my left hand was pointed toward her grave at the front of the house. I felt a twinge on the point of my left index finger. One second it was there and the next it was gone. After that moment I felt peace within myself.’ Bundy shared.
‘I haven’t felt the twinge or anything like it, but I feel Les is still in the house. I often speak with him and he answers. At times, I don’t know if I’m going crazy or not, in reality I know he’s not coming back, so I’ve got to get on with life the best I know how. It’s a different feeling about Peter. I truly believe he is going to walk back through the front door one day. When, I don’t know – it will happen.’
‘I sincerely hope you’re right, Mary. I surely do.’ Bundy finished.
They finished lunch and Bundy requested he do the washing up, ‘you can stay if you want. Les never washed up in all the time we were married.’ Mary stated and smiled at him.
Bundy collected the finished plates and carried them to the sink in the kitchen. It was no trouble to wash-up for he’d long ago served his apprenticeship in the family home to always have the washing-up finished shortly after a meal and to wipe over the sink, bench tops and stove.