In memory of my father Ian Everingham who taught us to love the bush
CHAPTER ONE She darted along the shadowy trail adrenalin sparking through her limbs Her eyes scanned for the snatches of white shirt flickering through the trees of the forest ahead her nostrils twitched for shifting scents her ears strained for every snap every cry every rustle every Let’s go back now The voice was like a frypan clanging on the head of Pollo di Nozi Youth Reporter for the Coast newspaper She leapt around to face its owner You can’t be serious Will Pollo hissed We’re chasing the first case we’ve had in weeks and you want to go back The first case you’ve had in weeks said Will I thought you wanted to help All I know is it’s stinking hot and there are bull 5
ants everywhere and you won’t let me wear these Will pointed at the rubber thongs sprouting from his hip pockets I do want to help but ouch He slapped a fat red ant off his foot You were going to give us away in those things Flap-flap flap-flap Why aren’t you wearing runners Hang on said Will One minute we’re washing windows in the main street of town Next thing we’re tailing someone on Diamond Jack’s Trail How did I know to wear runners I’ve told you a million times Will Hopkins a good investigator is always ready for action You’re the investigator not me muttered Will Pollo squinted through the haze of dust motes and tiny bugs the sun bouncing off the eucalypt leaves The flashes of white were getting harder to spot Okay she whispered put your thongs back on But for goodness sake try to be quiet Ash Swift is in some kind of trouble We don’t want to spook her into running away 6
