Pat Ritter. Books

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him alive. He never boarded the train to his grandmother’s home. That’s about it.’ She finished.
‘There’s not much to go by. When I was a detective,’ Bundy was cut short by Kate.
‘Bundy, let’s relate to the present. I know you were a good detective in your day, but things have changed. Everything is different now. Investigations are different; the way we investigate is different. I don’t want to sound selfish or inconsiderate but in your day everything was slower.’ Kate admitted. She’d been frustrated how Bundy always mentioned ‘in his day’ as if it was a hundred years ago.
‘What I was about to say, before your outburst, in my day, we often found young lads, about Peter’s age, taken from their neighbourhood by people who’d kidnapped them; drugged them and taken to The Valley for prostitution.’ Bundy finally shared.
‘Yes, I remember reading about the time. One of the lads tried to escape and he was stabbed by another youth.’ Kate said.
‘Yes, it was one of my cases. The youth who did the stabbing, plunged a butcher’s knife through the back of the other youth and twisted it inside. A horrible case. The knife went through the youth’s stomach and out the other side.’
‘I’m not saying this is not going on, but really, by speaking with Mrs Clayton, I doubt if Peter would’ve been this type of child.’ Kate shared.
‘I agree to disagree. It’s getting late and we’ve had a huge day. What about we sleep on it and we’ll talk further in the morning. What’d say – truce?’ Bundy put his hand across to shake Kate’s hand in a sign of truce.
‘Good, then, we’ll follow this up in the morning. Now what about I help wash up before I have a shower and go to bed.’ Kate answered withdrawing her hand to pick up the dishes.

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‘Go ahead and have a shower, clean towels are in the linen cupboard; I’ll tend to the washing up. I’m used to it.’ He smiled and returned to the kitchen.
‘Nite Kate’, was the final words he said to her. She returned a similar blessing.

Bundy rose as the sun broke across the horizon. A piece of toast and a mug of coffee placed on a tray. Before he entered Kate’s bedroom, he knocked and asked to come in. ‘Yeah, what time is it?’ Kate murmured wiping the sleep from her eyes.
Bundy opened the door and placed the tray of freshly cooked buttered toast with a steaming hot mug of coffee on the side table beside her bed, ‘I thought you’d like an early morning coffee.’ He said. Kate had been the first female who’d stayed overnight since he moved into the house apart from his daughter.
‘Wait a minute.’ She called, ‘what’s this in aid of.’ Kate asked. She smelt the aroma of the coffee and freshly cooked toast and to be given it in bed was something special.
‘I used to make coffee and toast for my wife, old habits die hard.’ Bundy whispered loud enough for Kate to hear before he left the bedroom.
‘Thank you Bundy. Your wife was spoilt.’ She enjoyed her first coffee and thoroughly enjoyed the toast. Sitting upright in bed, with the curtains pulled back, window open, morning cool breeze flowing into her bedroom. She looked and saw the miniature horses grazing in the early morning; birds singing and a kookaburra-laughing, could she have died and gone to heaven?
By the time Kate rose Bundy finished breakfast; tidied the kitchen and lounge room. His daily chore to sweep the kitchen floor, vacuum the carpet in the lounge and make his bed after putting the washing on. Dressed in

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casual clothes he asked Kate if she wanted a second cup of coffee to which she replied she did. ‘And another piece of delicious toast, thanks Bundy.’ She finished.
After making the coffee and toast they adjourned to the front veranda to listen to the early morning call of the kookaburra and magpie call to their mates. Kangaroos ate leisurely on the front lawn not bothered to look up when Kate and Bundy resumed their places on the veranda.
‘No wonder you love living here, wild life at your front door, birds singing, fresh air, no traffic and this wonderland.’ She swept her hand across the front of herself, stretched wide to describe the property.
‘It’s not bad – is it?’ Bundy finished. ‘Kate, you know we’re looking for a needle in a haystack – don’t you.’
‘Yeah – I know.’ She sounded despondent, ‘I’ve been working for eight years on trying to find this needle and I feel I’m no closed now than when I started. I read one time you never gave up until you found what you were after. Is that true?’ Kate asked in a sincere voice.
‘You could say that. One time I was working on a case and another detective told me he’d hate to be chased by me because I was like a tap dripping on a large rock. Eventually the drip would wear away the rock. At the time I didn’t understand what he meant?’
‘Well, he meant when you are onto something – you never give up. How do you do it?’ She asked.
‘I don’t know how to explain it. I suppose my mind is made up of small molecules and after I hear information these molecules form together to let me know if I’m heading in the right direction. I know if something is not right in the back of my mind I feel a ping to indicate either someone has told me a lie or one of the pieces of the puzzle didn’t fit the picture. Does that make sense?’ He answered.

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‘I don’t feel a ping. You must be one of a kind Bundy. No wonder the Commissioner wanted you on this investigation.’ She ate her toast and sipped her coffee.
‘We’ve got to work on a strategy of what we’re to do next.’ Bundy said.
‘You’re the one to do that. Honestly I don’t know where to go to from here. I feel so relaxed. We could stay here and figure out a plan.’ A yarn formed her mouth.
‘Didn’t you sleep well?’ Bundy asked.
‘Slept like a baby. I think that’s the problem, I haven’t slept this good in a long time’.
‘Do you remember before we visited Mrs Clayton, or should I say, Mary, I got you to step the distance Peter would have walked the day he disappeared.’
‘Yes, I thought it was stupid at the time.’
‘Do you remember how many steps or distance we worked out?’
‘I have it here in my phone – one hundred and eighty metres.’ She said looking at the face of her mobile telephone.
‘Did you take that bloody thing to bed with you last night to count the number of snores you did?’ Bundy asked sarcastically.
‘How do you know I snore?’
‘I heard the room rumble when I got up this morning to make your coffee and toast.’
‘I was tied, and when I’m tied – I snore. It’s no wonder my throat is dry this morning. This coffee is good.’
‘Okay let’s get back to the distance Peter walked to the footpath. Mary told us she turned away as soon as he was near the footpath before the overhead railway bridge. You remember she said something like that?’ Bundy asked Kate.
‘Yeah – I’ll tell you exactly what she said.’ Kate opened her mobile telephone, flicked a switch on the front

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face and heard Mary’s voice, “When he was safely across the road to the railway station, I walked inside”.
‘Okay then. How did you record her voice without her knowing?’ Bundy asked.
‘When she spoke I activated the voice recorder on the phone.’ Kate told him.
‘I’ll be damned – that’s terrific. We didn’t have those things in my day. We didn’t have mobile phones.’ Bundy explained. ‘I’ll need to get one of those damn things; it’s like recording everything we do. Anyway, here is the issue. Say, she saw Peter cross the road. In all honesty, I think she’s mistaken on the particular day about when she last saw him, because she would have been thinking about preparing dinner for her husband.’
‘What are you getting at?’ Kate frowned.
‘I don’t know – let’s assume. I know ‘assume’ makes an ass out of you and me, but for this exercise let’s say she turned around before Peter crossed the road. The distance, approximately, from the other side of the road to the footpath near the overhead railway bridge is say one hundred and eighty metres. You see the picture.’
‘Not yet – keep going.’
‘Say Mary stopped looking when Peter walked through the paddock and never sighted him cross the road to the footpath. We know he never reached the ticket dispenser, so we can safely say, he may not have walked across the overhead railway bridge.’
‘Where’s this going Bundy – you’re sending me around in circles.’
‘There is a small ‘window of opportunity’ from the moment he was last seen by his mother to when he disappeared. This ‘window of opportunity’ would have been five minutes, approximate or there about.’
‘How do you work that out?’ Kate looked at Bundy bewildered.

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‘He always took fifteen minutes after he left home to board the train at precisely four-thirty. He left home at the usual time and walked through the paddock, across the road and onto the footpath, up over the overhead railway bridge and onto the platform.’
‘Yes, I can see that?’
‘There was an opportunity from the time his mother turned to walk inside, to the time he didn’t arrive at the platform, which in my opinion would have been about five minutes. Did you time yourself when you walked the one hundred and eighty metres?’
‘No – I had no reason too.’
‘That little machine didn’t time you by accident, did it?’ Bundy asked Kate with a slight grin covering his lips.
‘No – it doesn’t do that. I can take your photograph – if you want.’ Kate aimed the phone toward Bundy, he noticed a flash.
‘Did you take my photograph?’ He asked in astonishment.
‘Here – have a look.’ Kate turned the face of the telephone toward him and he saw a reflection of himself.
‘Amazing.’ He said.
The telephone in his office came to life with a ringing sound.
‘I wonder who that could be. I never receive any phone calls.’ Bundy said.
‘You’d better answer it to find out who it is.’ Kate replied.
Bundy walked to his office, picked the hand-held telephone, clicked the call button and placed the phone to his mouth, ‘hello, Bundy Quicksilver speaking.’
‘How ya going – you ole fox, still got that little vixen with you.’ It was Quincy Simpson.
‘Yes – she’s here Quincy, she stayed overnight.’ Bundy told his friend. He heard Quincy’s breath quicken,

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‘do you want to speak with her?’ He continued walking to the front veranda as he spoke.
‘No – I wanted to speak with you – actually.’ His voice more relaxed.
‘What do you want to speak about? I’ll put you on loud speaker so Kate can hear what you want.’ Bundy told his friend. He pressed the button on loud speaker and placed the telephone on the table in between Kate and himself.
‘Good morning Kate.’ Quincy spoke.
‘Same to you.’ Kate replied, ‘how can we help you?’ She asked.
‘Is it possible to get me a piece of Peter’s hair, or some clothing? I want to test it for DNA. I have an idea but I can’t share it with you yet because I’m still working on it. I’ll let you know as soon as you deliver me some hair particles or clothing belonging to Peter he was wearing around the time of his disappearance.’ Quincy told his friends.
‘Yeah – we’ll get them for you.’ Both said in unison. Bundy and Kate looked at one another in surprise they’d spoken exactly the same words at the same time.
‘Ring me when you’ve got them so I’ll be home when you bring them.’ Quincy finished the conversation and disconnected the call.
‘I wonder what that’s all about.’ Kate asked in an inquisitive voice.
‘I told you he’d come back with something to help us.’ Bundy had a smile in his voice.
‘We’ll see.’ Kate continued to be sceptical about Bundy’s friend.