How I Became the Mr. Big of People Smuggling (13 page)

‘Palmenter's cock is too big,' said Spanner.

‘You know, do you?'

‘Well you suck his cock more than any of us. How big is it?'

It was true, Simms was browbeaten and bullied more than any of us by Palmenter. It was when Spanner said this that Simms became even funnier. He stood up as if he was Palmenter angry, advanced threateningly towards Spanner, not far, but enough to show the walk, then he turned back and dismissed the girl with a wave of his hand.

‘It's this big!' Simms was Palmenter boasting of his massive size in that exact tone that Palmenter had that could say something as
both a boast and a threat. ‘You're no good, go back to where you came from. Simms, suck my dick.' Then, ‘Simms, wipe my arse, what am I supposed to do, do it myself?' Simms danced and gyrated, swapping between being himself kneeling at Palmenter's feet or bent over wiping his arse, and Palmenter standing and bending over to receive.

We were all giggling and laughing in that infectious dope way. I had tears in my eyes and couldn't see properly. Spanner too. Cookie was laughing out loud, crying and wheezing and asking them to stop.

‘Yes-men. You are all just yes-men. Why can't I get people who can think for themselves?'

Charles stood up and joined Simms, and their posing and gyrating became a dance.

‘Not like that. Like this.' Simms was Palmenter insisting Charles move his way.

‘Yes boss.'

It wasn't at all funny. It was too real. But how we laughed. I was aching, could hardly breathe.

Charles followed Simms in the dance, chanting in time with the beatbox, ‘Yes boss, yes boss, yes boss.' Then he suddenly stopped, stood up hands on hips and arched back and yelled, at the top of his voice, out at the trees and the sky and the birds and whatever else was listening.

‘You can go fuck yourself, Palmenter!'

It was as if something had shattered. The spell had been broken, both the drug-induced hilarity of the moment, and the long, slow, oppressive spell that Palmenter had cast over us. Things would not change, but Charles had spoken the truth. Palmenter could go fuck himself and we all wanted rid of him. There was suddenly a silent understanding between us.

Cookie served up lunch of the barbecued meat and salad. We ate in silence. Or near silence with the occasional comment.

‘Is good, Cookie.'

‘Yeah, good stuff as usual. You are wasted on us.'

We settled back quietly to our own thoughts.

I wanted to ask Spanner about his missus, the woman Cookie had told me about. But I didn't. I didn't think that Palmenter had
something directly to do with her not being there but I suspected his name would come up somehow. And as quickly as we had been laughing at Palmenter and quick to abuse him, we were now suddenly fearful of being overheard by the trees, the rocks, the lizards and the wide open sky. They all had ears, nothing but ears. It doesn't make sense now, but back then it was exactly as it was.

The next few days I half expected to find Simms bashed and bruised and remorseful and Palmenter standing on the verandah watching him with a know-it-all self-satisfied grin. But that didn't happen. Things carried on as before.

On that long drive, five days by myself and totally unlike the last time I drove to Palmenter Station, I was thinking about that and also thinking about Lucy and her family, and I was thinking of the stories Zahra and Noroz and the others had told me. It seemed so unfair that we could lie around a waterhole smoking dope and laughing, complaining about Palmenter and his temper, while in the world real people like these were suffering real threats, death and torture and starvation. These people had nothing, they travelled across hostile lands on the last of what little they did have in the hope that someone somewhere along the way would hold out a helping hand. That could be me. Us. At the least I could help Lucy by finding her family for her because, because of me, Palmenter had turned her in and she had now spent three years in Maribyrnong. When she got out, if they accepted her refugee claim, she would still have nothing and it would be many more years before she would save enough money to help her family. If I didn't help them now, would they survive that long?

When I told Spanner that I wanted to bring in Lucy's family, he tried his best to dissuade me.

‘You're mad. Why would you want to do that? You hardly even know her.'

‘We agreed to hang around, we've got this next import anyway. It just means one more, two more weeks. If we can find them. One more, then we're done.'

Eventually he agreed. He didn't have much choice. I knew he wouldn't take off without me, he was too decent for that and anyway, he owed me, because while in Melbourne I had looked up the business broker with the fishing camp for sale.

The agency had hushed modern offices with wall-to-wall carpet and wood panelling and framed awards along the walls. The agent advanced at me with his arm out to shake my hand and offered me a coffee or tea that a girl in a tight dress made for us. I took an immediate dislike to him.

The camp had been on the market for several years and I gathered there had been little interest because the broker hinted that an offer could start well below the asking. He showed me files and pictures of the camp and played a short video. It looked idyllic, the leafy camp area, fishing boats on a sparkling ocean, warm sunshine and long golden beaches, rocky headlands sheltering isolated coves, pictures of smiling men holding up big barramundi. I was suspicious as to why there had been no sale for so long and it didn't take too long to discover that the problem was that there was no lease or title over the land. The camp had been set up illegally and was squatting on Aboriginal land. Given the remoteness, even the gear was pretty well worthless as it would cost more to move it than it was worth.

‘What can you do with a few dinghies and some tents up there if they throw you off? Just have to walk away from it. Waste of money.' I thrust the files back at him. I guess I looked the part. It was only when I had arrived in Melbourne that I realised how tanned and tough I had become. I wasn't yet leathery like an old-timer from the Territory, but I was getting there. If he wanted to rip off some redneck from the outback it wasn't going to be me. Or Spanner.

How we did end up with the camp is that Newman and I, with two of the muster crew, flew up to the Gulf and got introduced to the people there. See, the thing in business is you have to get the locals on side. The further you are from your home the more important that is. Palmenter never understood that. He flew all over the place, drove thousands of miles between all his operations in Melbourne and Sydney and up the coast, Indonesia too I guess, going all over intimidating everyone to keep them in line. Waste of effort. Far better to get everyone on side and working in the same direction. Matter of aligning goals. In the books they call it win-win.

I told the locals that there was this illegal camp operating on their land, but that if they would give us a lease we would take it over and expand it, provide jobs and income, a percentage of the profits. Of course I didn't mention about the importing, but you have to be a little bit discreet. Can't be stupid about it.

We ended up buying the fishing camp. Sort of stole it. But that was a lot later, several years. Right now Spanner owed me because I had saved him from doing his dough.

When I arrived at the station after that trip to Melbourne to see Lucy it was only two days before the import was scheduled to arrive. The place was busy. Charles had managed somehow to fit in two trips to Melbourne and on one of them he had even picked up a minibus. Spanner had done a great job of organising. As soon as Charles arrived with the first truckload, Spanner sent Cookie off to buy supplies. He gave Cookie a few thousand dollars and told him to go overboard.

‘I told him things were getting bigger,' Spanner said to me. ‘That way, when we leave, he'll pass on to anyone that asks that he expects us back soon.'

Spanner had also forged all the paperwork. He had contacted the muster crew and the truck drivers somehow and sent Simms out in Bitsy to shoot a beast. It was amazing, because underneath all this activity you could tell it was a happier place.

We had no way of contacting Newman so we had to assume he would fly in as arranged: the first delivery would begin as soon after dawn as the chopper could fly and then every two hours until they were all done. The first surprise was when the girls arrived. The girls had been taken off the boats first and brought in a day early. The chopper arrived with Rob the pilot and eight girls but without Newman. Nine in a chopper designed for six. Rob just shrugged.

‘They don't weigh much.'

Indeed they didn't. Thin girls, ageless but young. Too young. They gathered confused and nervous, bewildered, like cattle are before you force them up the loading ramp. Simms took them to the stationhouse and showed them the showers, told them to settle in,
to wash, and then come to the canteen. I was thankful that Margaret hadn't showed up but wished we had a girl on staff to help. They either didn't speak English or were too shy to talk to us.

They were frightened and I now know why, because at the coast when the boat landed they had been forced apart from their families. Rob had then flown them in the chopper but they had no idea where to. As soon as he turned up with that load of girls I began to worry about Margaret, although I wasn't too concerned because I doubted Rob was in direct contact. Even if she did find out about the new shipment of girls somehow and arrived unannounced I would simply tell her to contact Palmenter and feign ignorance when she asked where he was. Anyway, I had my van hidden out behind
Matilda
with my million dollars buried nearby. The van had fuel and food and I was ready to go at short notice. A couple of years later when I was doing the MBA I remembered this. In business, they call this your parachute. Always have an exit plan.

We decided to send them out immediately so that if Margaret did arrive we could tell her that Palmenter and the girls had already left. Charles drove the minibus with the girls to Brisbane and dropped them at the train station. We gave each of them some Aussie dollars. We had no idea exactly who was on the payroll or when and how people would be paid for their services or for their silence so I had bundled up various amounts in plain envelopes and kept this in the office in case anybody should turn up demanding to be paid. I took some of this, a thousand, and gave some to each of the girls. I'm sure Spanner would have agreed.

The men came the next day with Rob flying and Newman back on board. If Rob noticed that the girls had already gone he didn't say anything. Simms greeted them as they landed and checked them in. If they were sick or weak he put them in a donga and they could rest, otherwise he sent them to me. After they had all their false documents he took them to the canteen where Cookie fed them. As soon as the first lot were done Spanner set them off in the campervan we gave them. With each group he gave them a driving test; they had to drive around the compound and if they successfully negotiated the gate, the cattle grid, the sand patch behind the dongas, that was
good enough for him. If a group of five didn't have at least one driver he would swap the groups around. He had printed some maps to guide them to the Stuart Highway and we gave each van five hundred dollars, enough for fuel and extra food.

The last chopper load arrived after four.

‘That's twenty-five,' said Newman, who no longer had the Viking with him. ‘Palmenter didn't come to the collection so I've brought it along with me. Less two and a half for the chopper is one twenty-two and a half. It's all there.' He gave me the duffel bag and waited, as if it might need it explaining or I would want to count it. We were in the office where I had spent most of the day issuing false papers and cash. I put the bag uncounted into the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet and decided the best thing would be to say nothing about Palmenter or the cash.

‘How would we go about bringing in a particular family? Would we be able to find them, bring them all the way?'

‘Who?'

I showed him Lucy's file with the details of her family.

‘I can take it back, pass it up the line, see if anyone knows.' He scratched his head. Obviously he wanted to ask more but I wasn't going to volunteer.

‘I'll pay for it.' He gave me an odd look. ‘I mean we don't charge them. This one is gratis.'

‘Okay,' he said doubtfully. ‘It is unusual. Why?'

‘Don't know. It's from up high,' I lied. ‘How long?'

‘Shit. Dunno. Palmenter's gone crazy. We might not even find them. They could be anywhere along the way, gone someplace else. Dead. Who knows? If we ask anyone direct they won't say. Scared why we ask, they don't trust anybody. Even us.'

I nodded as if I understood. I certainly wasn't going to correct him on Palmenter. Invoking a higher authority is a good way to get what you want. Churches have been doing it forever.

‘So can you do it in two weeks? It's kind of important.'

‘Two weeks or not at all. I can let you know when we arrive with this next lot. They're on Yamdena waiting for our say-so. Soon as we got something happening at Ashmore, we go. I reckon could be less than a week.'

‘What? Shit.'

‘What?'

‘Oh. Nothing. We got nothing left here. No food. No vans. Why so many all of a sudden?'

‘Word is out,' he said simply, looking at me.

He was waiting for some reaction from me. Word is out. About what? That I shot Palmenter? Had Spanner said something? A moment of panic but Newman was watching me closely for some sort of reaction, to say something. Surely if he knew and hadn't done anything already he was not about to do anything now.

‘We'll cope. You'll have to do the collection again, bring us the cash, okay? Same as this time.' I pretended my panic was merely about the logistics of this next lot. ‘But bring them in mixed loads. Men and women together, okay? How many?'

‘Forty-five.' He said this as though he expected me to object. Nearly twice the usual run. Even with Charles's two truckloads of vans and the extra food Cookie had bought we would not cope. But, if all went well, in two weeks Lucy's family would arrive and I could send them to join her in Melbourne. Spanner and I had agreed to do that. We would have to run this intermediate lot of forty-five. The timing didn't change. Spanner and I would still be able to escape in a couple of weeks. Before the wet.

‘Word is out,' I said to Newman, and he smiled.

Spanner and I discussed what we would do. Allowing a van for each of us when we left, we had only four for the refugees and for forty-five people we would need at least another nine. And another one for Lucy's family, but as we didn't know how many in her family maybe we should make that two. The truck could carry six vans on the back so it needed two trips to the city and back. To get that many vans back from Melbourne would take all of two weeks and we had sent others off to Brisbane and Adelaide, as well as Sydney and Melbourne, with no system for returning them. We hadn't thought we would need to.

No matter how we shuffled it, we knew this next lot would arrive and we would have no transport for them. We had agreed to lie low for two weeks although it seemed an incredibly long time to sit idle with the threat of Margaret reappearing, or worse,
one of Palmenter's cowboy mates. I remembered the fierce looks they had. We called them the cowboys. The muster crew laughed at that. And yet, it was such a short time because it would take all that time and more to get things organised. I wished if we found Lucy's family we could fly them in and forget about the boats and choppers and all the carry on. You can fly to London in less than a day. But Newman had made it clear that two weeks was the absolute minimum he would need and of course we had to do it as we always had done.

In a way we were lucky for this intervening lot. Without them and all the work they made for us I think we would have sat around on edge and eventually our resolve to bring in Lucy's family would have faltered.

But as it was, the next group would arrive with no transport and we had to do something. The bus was a twelve-seater but needed a competent driver. Charles could take a busload to Darwin and be back in four days but we needed him to drive the truck. We could move them all by bus to closer towns, three trips plus the four vans. But you can't drop twelve refugees in the centre of a small outback community without it being obvious. Even in Katherine or Alice the chance of getting caught was pretty high and if anyone got caught Spanner and I would lose our chance to get away. Plus, if we changed the method too radically, Charles or Simms or Cookie would wonder what was going on. Our plan had to remain something believable under the pretence that Palmenter was still running the business. We talked around and around with all these ways of dealing with this next mob but it all came back to doing as much of it as we could in the same way as it had always been done.

Spanner thought he might be able to resurrect one or two vans from the gene pool but no more. He didn't say anything about the one I had parked over behind the landyacht.

‘They'd go, but not much else.'

‘And Bitsy?'

‘You're joking. Get picked up first patrol car. We need more.'

‘Can you drive the truck?'

Spanner looked at me. Of course he could.

‘What you got in mind?'

‘You take the truck up to Darwin. Take Cookie and Simms too.
Buy eight more campervans from wherever you can and bring them back. Take you a week, ten days. Do the shopping too because we're going to need a heap of extra food. I'll wait here for Charles and the bus. And in case Margaret or anyone comes.'

Already I was planning a week by myself. I'd camp away from the homestead, up on the ridge where I could see the dust of any comings or goings, and I'd get my escape van properly equipped and well hidden, somewhere along the river under the trees where it couldn't be seen from the air. It had occurred to me while talking to Newman that from the chopper on the way in he would have had a great view of the old landing strip and my escape van.

And that was what I did. I also re-buried my million under some rocks away from the van. Just in case. I hid Spanner's million too. At first I put it inside an old oven out on the gene pool but then it occurred to me that if we were ever raided, having it hidden near the homestead wasn't such a good idea, so I took it out about ten kilometres in the other direction and buried it near a tree.

I kept about two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in the office, plus all the strange foreign notes that we would need to exchange somehow at a bank in the city. In the office I went through all the files. I burned nearly all of them, keeping only Lucy's. In the end I burned that too.

The import went really well. It was hard to believe this was not what had been planned all along. Despite what I had asked, eight girls arrived on the first load with Rob. All of them looked frightened and very young but fortunately we hadn't heard anything from Margaret. We mixed them with the men and older women who arrived on the next run two hours later. We set them off as quickly as we could, a girl, a woman and three men in each van, with maps taking them to Brisbane, Sydney, Adelaide and two to Melbourne. I gave them each some cash and told them to sell the van when they arrived and to split the money.

It took two whole days for all forty-five to fly in. It was organised chaos, but at the end of it there was a satisfied feeling about the place.

Newman gave me a calico bag of cash this time. I wondered if I was supposed to be giving him back the empty duffel bags.

‘Eighty-two and a half. We had to buy them out of Kupang. Plus the free trip that I've paid for out of this lot.'

‘Expensive!' I had to play the part.

‘Tell Palmenter he's getting soft. We've filled the rest of the boat, though, so's there'll be another hundred or so as it lands.'

‘I'm not telling him he's soft.'

That was the first time I ever heard Newman laugh, a little laugh of derision and understanding. He was the only person I ever knew who had argued with Palmenter. Except Arif. It was this moment that I realised he was also someone I could trust. When you first meet him he is stern, serious and businesslike, but you come to see he is solid and self-confident, someone who knows who he is and what he expects from the world, and he is not afraid. People like that are rare.

‘Me neither. But I agree with this now. Like when we first started. That other way wasn't good.'

He seemed about to say more but stopped. It was after five and the chopper would have to leave soon to allow them to get back to the coast before dark. I walked with him to the pad. He didn't seem to be caught up in all of this as Spanner and Cookie and all of us were. It felt that while all of us had become slowly enmeshed in Palmenter's web, Newman stayed because he wanted to. It suddenly occurred to me that Newman might in fact have been in charge all along. Perhaps Palmenter had been working for Newman and, when he asked me to ‘take care of that double-crossing cunt Newman', he had been attempting to take over the whole operation. Why else was Newman now paying us? It made more sense. A station near the coast struggling to pay its bills was hardly likely to instigate people smuggling but when offered some good money for simply hiding and transferring a few people there was no reason to refuse.