Chapter 16

My day is done ... thank you very much. I followed the armored truck over Bowen’s Hill. Sunny Corner Road.

Sunny Corner Road is a loop. Left comes out on the A-32. Right does too, but kilometers farther west. The armored truck picked up their escort, a Tiger ARH (Armed Reconnaissance Helicopter) and turned left, I turned right ... Bathurst, here I come. What ever shall I do?

Oh ... the escort.

A ‘suggestion’ from the queen... ‘for the safety of the personnel’ she is reported to have said. The Army claims it’s a ‘training exercise’ ... so the pilots can ‘keep their hand in.’ The Army gets the credit, the reserve pilots practice flying. All three of them are college graduates ... and women. This is probably the closest they’ll ever get to combat.

I pay the fuel bill. I usually watch them on their way. Another $25 thousand out of my pocket. Only twice a month though. The mine could handle a shipment everyday ... If ... big if ... I worked the crews to capacity. I won’t. I pay well and they are glad I’m back.

The State Police finally reached the bottom of the hole. Two politicians, a ‘representative’ and an elected judge were found guilty of collusion and graft. The judge had been keeping the ‘representative’ out of the public eye and the ‘representative’ was paying him. That little fiasco had cost three years production in the few weeks they were ‘in control.’

The difficulty in prosecution was caused by ‘just following orders.’ The minions got away scot free. “They didn’t Know,” said the federal judge.

When it’s me that ‘didn’t know,’ it’s ‘ignorance of the law is no excuse.’ When it’s the government that ‘didn’t know’ ... that’s different. We should make allowances for poorly led minions.

The ‘funds’ disappeared into federal coffers ... I didn’t see a dime ... and paid court costs.

Wonderful.

All together it was Australia ... the second most corrupt country in the world. Or so I have been informed.

At least the court costs amounted to chickenfeed ... just a hundred grand.

I parked the car in the garage, “Honey, I’m home.”

Alice said, “I’m not your honey ... we need to go to the university.”

“What?”

“Not what ... why?”

“Why?”

“I need a ‘responsible adult.” “You’re it.”

“Won’t...?”

“He’s not here,”

“How about...?”

“Nope ... you KNOW she’s not responsible.” “Come on ... they’re waiting.”

I backed out.

She jumped in, “Wait...” She looked in the backseat, “You need your satchel. I’ll fetch.”

She left her door open. She was gone a very long time. She brought my bag ... I looked. It was a disaster.

“Where is your chequebook?”

“What?”

“Cheque book ... moneybags.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t apply for scholarships.”

“Alice ... you’re indigenous.”

“Nope ... I’m half Chinese, mom is indigenous.” That was said with a glare.

It’s my fault ... they tested her DNA when they did mine. She’s right ... she’s half.

“The tertiary school said, ‘Alice, you don’t need to apply ... you’re Abo.’ and I was ... until you and Jenny.” That came with the mom look.

Jenny is Jenny Wren ... Federal Court Family Judge.

“Top right drawer ... daddy’s desk.”

She was back ... with the leather bound Company Ledger Book ... it wasn’t the one I meant ... but it was the right one ... tax deductable educational benefit. Mine would have been a gift.

Out Panorama to Mitchel ... Charles Sturt is NOT in Bathurst ... it’s in Mitchel, NSW. The Admin building is on Michel Street. There was one car in the ordinarily fully occupied carpark. We slid to a stop ... the door to the Admin building opened and Alice beat me to the door.

“Hello, Abby...?” definite rising inflection ... a question. “Alice ... where is your responsible adult?”

“That would be me,” I said.