Chapter 01

Oh Fuck!

It’s half past eight in the morning of a bright and sunny Friday that’s a very good day for Rivers Air Services as all of their planes are in use today. They recently bought a twenty-five year old Learjet 35A in very good condition and at a great price. Since the purchase it’s had a complete overhaul and been painted in RAS colours so they now have two Learjet 35As. Today is the first flight of the new jet for RAS as it heads out empty to pick up some businessmen to fly them around the state.

Dave Owen is the pilot of Rivers Air Nine, the new Learjet, while it slowly moves down the taxiway to enter the active runway when given permission. Behind them are six other Rivers Air planes with the other Learjet as the last of the line to return three politicians to Canberra, the national capital of Australia.

Dave turns to his old friend and copilot, Peter Davis, as he says, “After all the trouble I had getting it for the company I’m glad I get to fly this bird at least once.”

Peter grins, “Yeah, we spend the next week playing air taxi then get home in time to park her in the hangar before we retire the next day. But it’s well past time we both went for a long fishing trip.”

The two men are grinning at each other when they continue with the check-list while waiting for take-off clearance. A light aircraft lands and the controller comes on the radio, “Rivers Air Nine, clear to access the active runway.” After a few more words the Learjet is accelerating down the runway as if it’s in a hurry to make its first flight for Rivers Air.

Control Consternation

John Baker is the Senior Controller on Duty at the Rivers Airport for this shift. He’s very busy watching the runway and airspace around the airfield while the assistant controllers are managing the aircraft in their area of responsibility. He has his hand on the radio pack at his belt as he listens to the ground traffic while checking the sky for aircraft. There’s nothing on radar, but this is how he was trained and it’s how he works.

In the edge of his vision is the Learjet while it rises from the runway. It’s no sooner in the air than Rivers Air Five, a DHC 8, is given access to the active runway to ready for their take-off. Suddenly John’s attention is drawn to the light industrial area past the end of the runway.

Almost without thinking John is reacting to the sight while he’s still trying to comprehend what he sees. His early air traffic control work was with the Royal Australian Air Force and it covered a lot of possible events. Now his extensive emergency training kicks in for the first time in anything other than the thousands of training situations he’s been in.

John’s headset crackles when his radio goes live and he says, “Rivers Air Nine break right, break right, SAM inbound.” He watches with his heart in his throat while the plane banks hard right. The rocket passes by very close to the plane then it turns to chase the plane. He watches as the pilot plays a very deadly game of tag with the surface to air missile. Three times the pilot creates a miss, but each one is less of a miss than the last one. Then both the plane and the rocket move out of his view when they move past the ridge to the west of the airport and his line of sight.

John is worried because the manoeuvring is taking the plane further over the city instead of away from it. But the pilot has no real choice in his actions to avoid the rocket. Now they wait to see what happens.

Behind John the assistant controllers are ordering all of the aircraft off of the field and they’re passing word of the emergency to all inbound aircraft so they can head for alternative fields. One staff member is on the phone to the police as she tells them of the event.

No Choices

When the Rivers City Airport was built it was just beyond the east edge of the town on what was originally a grass landing strip created by one of the area’s early settlers. Since the airport’s formal designation and construction the city has grown a lot with some of the area right beside the airport being used for industrial and commercial operations.

Dave and Peter first teamed up in their twenties while flying light cargo planes for the Royal Australian Air Force. They got out after their twenty years and went to work for Rivers Air Service, employed by two of their friends who were also getting out at that time and had some big money as well as borrowing some more. Like John, the two pilots were never in a combat situation but have had the appropriate training for it.

The take-off is as smooth as silk and both are smiling while they do the rest of the check-list items. They both react instinctively to John’s demanding, “Rivers Air Nine break right, break right, SAM inbound,” on the radio. Dave doesn’t question the order and he goes in to the tightest right turn he can at this speed while Peter spins to look out the window.

Peter swears and says, “Sidewinder rising fast and closing from four o’clock low. Drop the nose.” Dave does as he’s told and he angles down. “It’s past, chase it.” They don’t have enough speed up or height to outrun it so their best hope is to try and hide the engines from the heat sensors and to keep generating misses until the rocket runs out of fuel.

Dave concentrates on flying the aircraft in line with Peter’s orders to generate a miss. They avoid it again, and again, and again. However, their turns are taking them out over the city and not away from it. Each miss is by a smaller margin each time, too. On the fifth approach the SAM is so close Dave rolls the plane a bit to make sure the wings don’t get hit. Peter is watching to see which way it turns after passing them. But this time it doesn’t as when it passes close to the tail it explodes with a boom much louder than the engines. The plane veers hard right just after the boom of the exploding rocket. Peter spins in his seat and he starts flicking switches while saying, “Engine one and tail gone.”

Dave nods while saying into the radio, “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. Rivers Air Nine is hit and going down. Lost tail and one engine.” He’s fighting to trim the plane and get some glide out of it, but the loss of the tail is causing control issues while the one engine has to be throttled back to stop the plane from making spirals to the right. Both are looking for a place to put the plane down, and finding none - only houses.

The jet is falling out of the sky at an angle while both are scouring the area for any place that isn’t houses, but that’s all they see within the zone they can reach. Dave gives the engine a bit more power to turn the plane to change their view. A couple of large green areas come into view, but Peter says, “Forget those three. Two are schools while the third is the big park, and all three are already filling with people.”

Dave’s reply is, “Fuck!” A bit more throttle and the plane turns. He spots another green spot that’s much smaller than the others, but he can’t see anyone on it. “What’s that?”

“Looks like a huge yard. There’s nothing better in sight, go for it!”

“You know, to make sure we hit that little spot we’re going to have to ride her in steep and hard!”

“Yeah. But it’s better to be just us than a city block full of people.” In order to reach the near edge of the chosen spot Dave goes into a steeper dive. The hope is to minimise the damage and risk to others by crashing into the ground instead of sliding along it. Seconds later the jet is passing over the trees at the rear of the house yard as it goes into a steeper dive to hit the ground at twenty degrees from vertical. The bulk of the plane ploughs into the ground to make a large hole. However, the mostly full wing tanks break off at contact to be flung forward and into the large house thirty metres ahead of their point of impact. The tanks go through the middle floor windows and burst open when they hit the interior walls. A moment later the building is a blazing inferno.

Note: The police don’t find out or catch who fired the missile at the plane or learn why they did it. So the case remains open.

Morning Mayhem

Mrs Evelyn Murphy is sitting in her kitchen finishing off the glass of orange juice that’s the remains of her breakfast when she hears a loud boom. After putting the glass down she goes out the back door to look around, but she can’t see anything that’s a likely cause of the noise. Then a movement in the upper corner of her vision has her turning to her left and looking upward. A plane is coming down at a sharp angle and it seems to be heading straight for her.

Realising the plane is going to crash close by she races to the side and kneels down beside the corner of the large sandstone garage and storage area which used to be the farm stables. The plane is now heading just a touch left of where she is, but she’s sure it’s going to hit within the property line. She ducks behind the corner to avoid being hit by the expected flying plane bits while she pulls out her cell phone. She’s talking to the emergency services and telling them about the plane when she hears and feels it hit the ground. She stays where she is. After watching a few things bounce along the ground and hearing a few windows break she counts to ten then looks out at the yard. There’s not much of the plane to see, just some wreckage in a hole it made in the middle of the backyard, but the main building is a blazing inferno.

Eve asks for the fire brigade and hangs up. She slowly walks out to see what she can while she calls her son. She also says a prayer of thanks for him insisting they move into the old five bedroom cottage four months ago when he started to plan some repair and renovation work needed due to finding termites in some of the ground floor woodwork. All they took was their personal effects, heirlooms, electronic gear, and white goods as they left the furniture to move when he started work.

The fire-fighters arrive in plenty of time to stop the fire spreading to other buildings, but not before it has a good hold on the main house building and it totally destroys the two hundred year old three story stone structure. However, when they do get the fire out the sandstone main walls are still sound and in place, just covered in soot. But it’s gutted with a huge pile of ashes and debris on the ground level floor.

Rebuilding & Safety Plans

Patrick Murphy-Michaels arrives home just after lunch due to his mother’s phone call. He had wanted to spend the whole day on the uni campus doing some research for his studies, but he’s put that off for now. When he drives in he can see a fire-engine and a police car sitting in the backyard of his house. After a few questions he learns the police are to see no one does anything to the aircraft wreckage while the firemen are to stay for the afternoon and evening to ensure the fire doesn’t start up again.

After a short word about the events with his mother Pat leaves her supervising the men replacing the broken windows in The Stables and The Cottage. As he drives over to the Council offices he’s glad he insisted they move into The Cottage until the full extent of the termite damage was known and fixed, otherwise his mother would now be dead.

He laughs when the radio plays the song Good News Week while he starts thinking it’s a Good News / Bad News situation. The good news is the termite problem is now fixed and he can plan the new internal layout in whatever way he wants. While the bad news is the work is going to take a lot longer and cost a lot more to do than he can afford at the moment, so a lot of it will have to be done much later when he can afford to do it.

At the Council Pat asks to speak with the Council Heritage Officer and he’s shown straight in. After the greetings he says, “I suppose you know about the fire.”

Henry Jamieson replies, “I think the whole state knows about it.”

“Right. You’ll probably have to come out and take photos for your records, but the Mansion is gutted. Only the stone walls are standing. I want to rebuild it but I need to know what restrictions are on it due to the Council Heritage classifications and restrictions.”

“Well, our rules are because you’re in the Heritage Control Zone. So you need to maintain the exterior visible from the street looking like the original. But the file says I need to check the state requirements, just a moment.” He turns to his computer to bring up a website. After few clicks plus a few minutes reading he goes to another website. He does some more reading on that site then he notes a phone number.

While he punches in the phone number Henry says, “The state rules on Heritage Listed houses are for renovations to have it remain looking as it was. What do you want to do?”

Pat grins, “I want it to have a new internal layout and to look like the original interior, not how granddad renovated it to in the fifties. But I can’t afford to pay for it all to be done right now. So I want...,” he stops because Henry is waving him to silence.

Into the phone Henry says, “Mister Ball, it’s Henry Jamieson, the Rivers City Council Heritage Officer here. I don’t know if you’ve seen the news, but we had a jet shot down over our city by a surface to air missile. This affects you because the plane crashed in the grounds of Michaels Manor which is in our Heritage Zone. The building’s been gutted by fire and is just a shell. The current owner is asking what restrictions he has to abide by if he decides to rebuild it.” He listens for a moment then says, “I think you want to reconsider that because a previous owner did a lot of major renovations to modernise it in the nineteen fifties.” A bit more listening and, “Look, I’ll put you on speaker-phone so Mister Michaels, the current owner, can tell you what he wants to do.” He moves the phone and pushes some buttons, then it’s Pat’s turn to talk.

“Good afternoon, Mister Ball, this is Patrick Michaels. Back in the fifties an ancestor redid the insides to be like a new house of that era. As well as the high cost involved I didn’t like that look, nor the layout as he also changed the interior layout. No one has a copy of the original plans, just what he changed it to, but we do have some old descriptions of what it used to look like.” He stops while Mr Ball swears.

When Mr Ball slows down Pat continues, “I don’t have the money to do a full rebuild at this time, or in the near future. So what I want to do is protect the site as best as I can then to rebuild it as I can afford to. To me, that means I need to clean it up and strip it back to the stonework. Then clean the soot etcetera off the sandstone, put a roof on it, install windows and exterior doors. Then take my time building the insides. The last thing I want is the last layout put in, so I want to redesign the inside and then build it to look the way original interior looked with all wood panelling and the like. However, to meet all the modern construction laws it will have to be modified a bit to incorporate modern amenities, but have them well hidden. So I want to have all the concealed framework made out of steel because there’s a termite problem in the area.”

Mister Ball interrupts with, “The State Heritage Laws states all items must be maintained as they are or they’re to be returned to their original condition, unless Ministerial approval is given and that takes months. There are no other options.”

Henry joins in, “Mister Ball, I don’t think you fully understand the situation. The current state is a pile of ashes surrounded by bare walls. The state as of yesterday was nineteen fifties modern and nothing like the original construction in design or look. If you insist it be returned to the original design you will need to provide a full set of plans for it since we don’t have them. The house pre-dates the Council by over a century.”

There’s some more posturing by Mister Ball. Finally Pat is fed up and he says, “As I see things there are only three possible options. First is to do as I wish and stated to preserve what I can of the site then do a slow build out when I can afford to do it. Second is to have you send us a full set of plans with appropriate proof and certification they are the original plans and you provide the funds to build it that way. Third is I just leave it as is until the walls collapse due to weathering, then I can clean it up and have an empty block to build on. Please choose one.”

Henry looks aghast at the possibility of losing the most significant heritage site in the region due to some petty bureaucrat’s attitude. He’s about to object when Pat winks at him while giving a slow head shake. More words are said without any give by Ball before they hang up.

Pat says, “Look, Henry, I hate the idea of losing the Manor. But the insurance money won’t payout enough to do a proper rebuild now, so I have no choice about doing a gradual build. I’ll be able to clean it up and get the roof on and windows in so I can lock it up and protect it. I may even get the ground floor in, but that’s all until I can afford more.”

Henry thinks for a moment, then he starts going through some books. After several minutes he makes a call to talk to the Council solicitor. After a long talk he calls the Council Manager and the Mayor for a talk with each of them. About an hour after he arrived Pat is walking out with a letter from the Council saying he has council permission to take whatever actions he needs to do to clean up and protect the site, but the action has to keep the exterior of the building looking like the original building so it’ll meet the Rivers Council Heritage Zone Regulations.

The result isn’t exactly what Pat wanted and he did lie a bit, but it’s as close as he can get right now. It also allows him to get on with getting things done to protect what remains of the building.

Digging up the Land

Later Pat enters the offices of the family solicitors. As is usual with many law firms the name changes when partners are added or leave, so the firm started by two brothers as Malcolm & Malcolm has gone through many changes over the generations and it’s now operated by four of their great-great-grandchildren. Pat knows the four chose the order the new partners were accepted because that changed the way the name read, so the firm of four cousins is now Malcolm, Dunn, Wright & Goode.

The receptionist knows Pat and she picks up the phone while saying, “Mister Michaels, Mister Dunn is expecting you. I’ll let him know you’re here.” Pat nods to her to acknowledge he heard her as he moves to the side while she talks on the phone.

A moment later William Dunn walks out to shake Pat’s hand while he says, “When I heard about the fire I knew you’d be in.” He turns and leads the way to one of the smaller conference rooms, “The insurance people have already been out to inspect the building, so I expect their money to be through soon. It won’t be enough to pay for a full rebuild but it will include some money for landscaping repairs.”

In the conference room there are several papers and folders set out on the table. Will points at one page while saying, “As you can see from the terms of the Trust there is a little more cash we can make available for major repairs, but it won’t be enough. And there are no other significant assets to be sold to help out with the building costs.”

While taking a seat Pat asks, “Can I have a look at the actual trust deed, please?” Will opens the file, but he doesn’t know what Pat is after. He has the Trust deed open for Pat, who reads it with care. Much of it is about the passing of the ownership to the eldest male of the line closest to the current owner when they die, which is why Pat inherited the Trust and property when his uncle died without having any kids. Then he’s at the part he wants to see, the wording on the inability to sell the house:

Michaels Manor and the house paddock in which it sits is never to be broken up or sold. Appendix A shows the boundaries.

Pat turns to Appendix A, then he asks to see the full list of trust assets and a council map of the area around the house. Will still isn’t following where Pat is going with this. Pat sits there very carefully comparing the two maps. He finally asks for a couple of copies of both maps so he can draw on them. Part of Pat’s problem is the two maps are using different scales and that makes it hard to relate them to each other.

After about ten minutes of closely examining A3 sized copies of the maps Pat is able to clearly identify a couple of marker points on both maps to get an idea of how they relate to each other. He looks up at Will with a big grin as he says, “The first thing we need to do is get a good surveyor out to the site to mark every boundary corner while he does a current plan of the land involved.” Will gives a mild frown. “If I’ve read these right the family has been identifying the house paddock wrong for a few generations.” This has Will scrambling for the papers as his father told him the whole block of land the Manor sits on is the original house paddock. “The other day I was reading one of the old journals when I came across a reference about expanding the rear yard area by removing the sorting yard fencing and putting a fence up behind the line of wind breaking trees past the yards.” He taps the maps, “If I’m right, that means we can sell off about a quarter of the back area for cash.”

Will puts his assistant to work on sending a surveyor out to do the mapping and setting out of marker pegs before the two of them start to delve through the huge pile of files on the property. They’re looking for the land identification on the asset lists to clarify just what is what as the last seven lists simply state: ’Michaels Manor and grounds.’

The pile of examined files is very large when Will exclaims, “Got it!” He turns the file around to show Pat an assets list from 1872:

Item 1: Michaels Manor and grounds consisting of the house paddock, the old sorting yards, the killers paddock, the horse run, woods and vegetable gardens paddock. See Appendix 1.

A flick to the appendix shows the original house paddock as being little more than the Mansion, Cottage, Stables, and the area in front of them to the road. Pat says, “I think we need to keep most of this, but most of what this has here as the killers paddock and horse run at the back of the property can be sold off for development. We’d want to keep most of the trees in place for privacy,” as Pat wants to keep the woods.

Both grin while they look at what the maps show them. Back in the nineteen sixties most of the farm was sold off for residential development for the fast expanding town that was turning into a city. The Mansion now sits in the middle of a huge swath of typical sixties housing estates with a street across the front and the rear of the property, plus houses along both sides of its two hundred and seventy-five metre width by six hundred and fifty metre deep property. What Pat is proposing is to sell off a two hundred metre deep segment across the rear of the property.

Normally you’d expect the rates for the block to be huge, but due to a deal struck with the Council when the farm was first sold for housing the Mansion and its grounds are still classed as a rural property. To sell this land they’ll have to lodge a Development Application to cut off the back area for sale. However, the Council should agree because the new area will be rezoned as urban residential and that’ll give them a very good rates boost.

Next door is the office of a local builder who’s also a client of Will’s so Will calls him and asks, “Serge, if you could buy land around Michaels Manor what would it be worth per house block?”