Wildfire

Chapter Five

Kelly pushed open the glass doors of the flying club. Ben followed her in. The air conditioning was a welcome relief from the heat outside. Ben found it was no longer a novelty to be sweltering hot in the middle of February.

When they phoned the police to report the fire they were told they’d be asked to give a statement, so Kelly had cut their flight short and brought them back.

The foyer of the club was like a hotel: palm trees, an atrium and a few big canvases of aboriginal art. At the front desk was a young male receptionist in an open-necked shirt that showed off a tan. As soon as Kelly saw him, her behaviour changed. She checked her flying suit, which was once again knotted like a jumper around her hips, took off the orange baseball cap and shook her blonde hair free. Then she went up to the desk. Ben tagged along, feeling rather embarrassed.

Kelly leaned on the counter and gave the receptionist her most dazzling Texan smile. ‘Hi — I’m expecting a visitor. A police officer. My name’s Kelly Kurtis.’

The receptionist consulted a large diary beside the switchboard. ‘They haven’t arrived yet, Miss Kurtis,’ he said. ‘Actually, hang on a sec. A parcel came for you.’ He turned round and picked up a large box that was resting against the desk. It was the size of a tea chest.

‘Oh, that was quick,’ said Kelly. She smiled again. ‘I’m afraid I’ve been shopping.’

‘Is that right?’ said the receptionist. ‘Looks a bit big to be shoes.’

Kelly shook her head and gave him an enigmatic look. ‘It’s a power chute.’

‘What’s a power chute?’ asked Ben.

Kelly glared at him. It was a look that said, Children should be seen and not heard. Then she turned her attention back to the receptionist, hooked her phone out of her trouser pocket and showed him the picture on her start-up page. ‘That’s me and some friends power chuting in Wyoming.’

The receptionist looked at it, then nodded. ‘Oh, those. We’ve got a couple of members who do that off the runway. They must be mad.’

Ben could see Kelly took the remark as a compliment to her bravery. ‘You’ve got to know what you’re doing,’ she said. ‘You have to read the air currents, like a sailor reading the sea.’ She made to put the phone away.

‘Can I see?’ said Ben.

Kelly gave him the phone just to keep him quiet, then started to lift the box down. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to get this out to my Jeep,’ she said, and gave the receptionist an appealing smile.

Meanwhile Ben was fascinated by the picture. It showed Kelly dangling under a red and pink striped parachute with an engine strapped to her back. ‘Wow,’ he said. ‘What is that thing?’

The receptionist answered him. ‘You put this engine on your back, then you clip on a parachute and buzz about in the air like a motorized maybug. You’ve got to be crackers, I reckon.’

Ben looked at the box that Kelly was trying to lift onto the floor. ‘And that’s all in there? Can I see?’

Kelly ignored him, but the receptionist answered, ‘You can buy those things in town. There’s an outdoor shop that stocks them.’ He noticed that someone had arrived at the other end of the counter. ‘Excuse me.’

Ben looked at Kelly. ‘I’ll put the box in the car for you if you let me look at the chute later.’

Kelly gave him an irritated look and lifted the box easily off the counter.

Suit yourself, thought Ben. Sorry I’m not twenty-two years old.

‘Miss Kurtis,’ said the receptionist. ‘Your visitor is just parking now. You can use the manager’s office if you need some privacy. Would you like me to look after your parcel for you?’

The policeman took off his cap and put it on the desk. The cap was white, with an intricate badge and a black peak which was so highly polished it showed a reflection of the fan rotating in the ceiling. His radio, clipped to a shoulder strap, made quiet crackles as it picked up the transmissions of other officers out on patrol. He sat down at the desk in the manager’s office, keys and handcuffs jangling at his belt.

‘Sorry to interrupt your plans,’ he said. ‘I won’t take up too much of your time.’ He took a notebook and pen out of his breast pocket. ‘Can you tell me briefly what you saw when you reported the fire?’

Ben and Kelly pulled up chairs. Kelly shrugged as she sat down. ‘We didn’t see much really. It was burning quite well by the time we spotted it.’

‘You didn’t see any suspicious characters?’

‘Officer,’ said Kelly, ‘we were a thousand feet up.’ There was a poster on the wall of the airfield, showing the ground as photographed from a plane. A Cessna on the ground was just about visible as a small white arrow on a two-inch strip of black runway. She pointed to it. ‘It all looks like that. You can’t see what people are doing.’

The police officer looked at the poster and put his pen down. ‘I thought that’s what you might say. It’s just that we have strong reasons to believe the fire was arson. As you were the people who alerted the authorities, you’re officially regarded as witnesses and so we have to question you. There is one piece of evidence I’d like you to look at. Again, I don’t suppose you can tell me anything, but I’m asking just in case.’ He took a sheet of paper out of his notebook, unfolded it and handed it to Ben and Kelly.

It was a photocopy of a leaflet. The bottom part had been burned.

‘A stack of these leaflets was found at the scene of the fire. If we knew who produced them we might be closer to finding our arsonist.’

Kelly glanced at the leaflet, then saw something that made her take notice. She read it out: ‘ “Stop secret US experiments” — what’s all this about?’ She scan-read the rest of the text and made a contemptuous noise. ‘Typical environmental scaremongering. They always make Americans out to be the bad guys.’ She handed the leaflet to Ben. ‘Your mom might know who these retards are.’

Ben read the leaflet. The contents were actually quite weird.

The rest was charred and unreadable. But after reading it, the sound of the police officer’s radio crackling away in the background seemed quite eerie.

‘Son, why might your mother know about this leaflet?’

‘She’s an environmental scientist,’ Ben said. ‘Her name’s Dr Bel Kelland and she’s speaking at the conference centre today.’

The officer passed Ben his notebook and pen. ‘Can you give me her contact details?’

Ben wrote down his mum’s mobile number and passed the pad back. ‘I doubt she’d know these people. She deals with more serious stuff: tsunamis and things. Governments come to her for advice. She doesn’t hang around with fringe groups and nutters.’

Kelly leaned back in her chair, her arms folded. ‘Officer, do you really think the fire was started deliberately?’

‘Miss, we get one or two deliberate fires in Adelaide every month. There’s a small proportion of the population who like to see things burn.’ The officer put his pen and notepad away.

‘Why would environmental protestors start a fire?’ asked Ben. ‘That’s not very green, is it?’

The police officer put his hat back on. ‘I admit it seems strange.’

The radio on his shoulder crackled and this time it was louder. ‘Fire on Veale Gardens. Engines have been dispatched. Fire investigation officers, stand by.’

He sighed. ‘That’s another fire. Thanks for your time. If either of you folks remember anything later on, give the station a call. Keep that leaflet, and if you see your mum before I do, would you show it to her?’

Ben nodded.

As soon as the officer had gone, Kelly looked at her watch. ‘You’re probably hungry. We should go to the cafeteria.’

Ben didn’t feel remotely interested in food. ‘I only got about two minutes’ flying,’ he protested. ‘I thought I was going to get a proper lesson.’

‘It’s quite strenuous,’ said Kelly. ‘Two minutes is a lot of time to concentrate if you’re only thirteen.’ She started to walk towards the cafeteria.

Ben fumed. He wasn’t going to let her brush him off like that. He caught up with her and spoke in a low voice. ‘If you take me up again and give me a proper lesson I’ll go and amuse myself this afternoon so you can chat up George on reception.’

Kelly stopped in her tracks. She looked at him, astonished. Her voice came out as an incredulous whisper. ‘How do you know he’s called George?’

‘His records were on the desk in the manager’s office. I know other things about him too, which I might tell you later.’ Ben put on a pleasant smile and indicated the direction of the front door. ‘Shall we go for a spin?’