Free Bones of Contention by Jeanne Matthews

Dreaming formed the topography of Kakadu National Park. It’s a World Heritage site. For cultural as well as natural reasons.”
    “I had an anthropology professor in college who’d be enthralled by your myths.”
    Clearly, Mack was enthralled. He could scarcely contain his enthusiasm. “There are thousands of stories handed down orally from generation to generation. These last few months I’ve immersed myself, compiling my own dictionary of deities and symbols.”
    “Then maybe you can explain song lines to me. I was reading about them, but I can’t quite grasp the concept.”
    “Try to think of them as footprints, the trails of the ancestors who created the land. In the beginning of the Dreaming, there were no visible landmarks. As the ancestors traveled and assumed different shapes, the world took on shape. Their songs brought the land into existence and each geographical feature retains their spiritual essence and perpetuates it.”
    She said, “It sounds similar to the Native Americans’ reverence for the earth.”
    “Similar, but song lines are more than that. These paintings, the ceremonies, the storytelling and dancing—all Aboriginal art forms are song lines. The ancestors live on in everything around us and continue to impart their wisdom to those in a receptive state of mind.”
    Dinah envied the Aborigines their rapport with the dead. She had a hard time gouging information out of the living.
    A painting of a turtle stopped her cold. “Mack, did you hear anything about a journalist who was murdered on top of a sea turtle on Melville Island last week?”
    “Oh, yes. The papers were full of it. The fact that he died on Aboriginal land brought the local population a lot of unwanted publicity. Tourism is a growing part of the economy. Anything that scares away visitors is a problem.”
    “Was there much speculation about who might have killed the man?”
    “One paper speculated that he was killed by pirates. Piracy’s become more common of late. Another tried to make a case against the Tiwis. Completely unfair. In fact, the coverage came perilously close to racist.”
    “What was the murdered man’s name?”
    “Hambrick, I believe. Bryce Hambrick.”
    “I understand he made some enemies in the green movement. A man I met in Darwin thought the killer was a greenie terrorist.”
    “Strange things have been happening in several of our coastal areas. I’ve heard rumors of poaching and vandalism and thefts. But I don’t believe environmentalists had anything to do with Hambrick’s murder.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because they are by and large nonviolent people who respect the earth and want to make it a better place. Like the Aborigines. But the police have turned a blind eye to other groups, people with far more reason to kill anyone who got in their way.”
    “What groups?”
    “The boat people.”
    “You mean illegal immigrants?”
    “That’s right.” His delivery grew animated. Obviously, Jacko wasn’t the only one gripped by the Hambrick murder mystery. “Some from Indonesia. Some from the Middle East by way of Indonesia. Iraqis, some of them, people habituated to war and violence.”
    “Are boat people a problem in Australia?”
    “Enough so that the government has detention camps and sponsors TV ads warning asylum seekers against debarking in certain coastal areas. They could find themselves a midnight snack for sharks or crocs.”
    She was surprised that Jacko hadn’t considered the boat people. Maybe he’d been too fixated on the relevance of the water spirit. Did the turtle have any bearing on the Brit’s murder, or was it just in the wrong place at the wrong time? “Mack, do you know any Aboriginal myths about sea turtles?”
    “Let’s see.” He communed with the ceiling for a few seconds. “During the Dreamtime, there were two turtle sisters who had a secret reservoir of water under their shells. They were selfish and tried to keep all the water for themselves, but a