by John Kelly
Warwick Steedman's house was the best house in the best street in Templestowe. Travis Court contained a picture postcard collection of homes on one acre properties that were the envy of the surrounding neighbourhood, the wider district, and most of Melbourne's eastern suburbs. Gracefully landscaped gardens complimented swimming pools, tennis courts and three and four car garages, but could not conceal the ever more sophisticated security devices, installed to protect the owners and their possessions from the spying eyes of would-be burglars.
It was around twelve-thirty on Saturday afternoon, when Brad and Jenny Murphy arrived in their taxi. Warwick and Susan were enjoying a drink by the swimming pool and heard the buzzer inside. "That'll be Brad and Jenny," Susan said, and they both went inside. The driver pulled up at the front and honked. Moments later the electronic gates clicked open and the taxi motored up to the front entrance. "A little intimidating," Jenny said as she gazed out the car window. "Did you know he lived in such a large house with all the trappings?" she asked Brad. "No," Brad replied, shaking his head. The two storey house spread itself across the block, with the front portico supported by two Roman columns. "I've not seen him in a while. He's obviously done very well for himself. It makes you wonder how?" Jenny looked amazed as she caught a glimpse of the swimming pool on one side behind a wrought iron fence. "I can't remember the last time I saw Susan. It must be five years. They weren't living here then," she said. As the taxi came to a stop underneath the portico, Warwick and Susan were at the front door waiting to greet them.
Susan was beaming with delight. Without waiting for Brad to pay the driver, and her two visitors to make a dignified exit, she raced to open the back door and greet Jenny.
"Hello, how are you? How wonderful of you to call, let me look at you," she said bubbling with excitement. Warwick stood behind Jenny, all smiles but less bubbly. As Brad emerged from the other side of the car, Warwick walked around to him and uncharacteristically opened up his arms, and the two men embraced. "Great to see you again," Warwick said. "Christ, how long has it been? You should have given us some warning. We would have set something up, dinner, a show or something," he added.
"It was very short notice," Brad replied. "Spur of the moment really," he added, now feeling a little uncertain of his motives and unsure how he was going to manage the purpose of his visit.
"Well," Warwick said, "You're looking great. All that sun, and surf on a tropical island! What a life you must have." Brad smiled uneasily. "Well, you don't seem to be doing too badly yourself," he replied. Brad looked across at Susan. "Goodness me, have you grown younger looking or what?" he said as he hugged her and kissed her on both cheeks. Warwick greeted Jenny, and the taxi pulled out from under the portico as the four retired inside.
Meanwhile, Robert had collected Elsie and they were now on their way to Elm Tree Cottages to collect Richard.
"You won't believe what I just learned," Robert was almost beside himself, as he spoke to his mother.
"What have you learned?" Elsie asked, somewhat sceptical of anything beyond the trivial. She had learned from experience not to take Robert too seriously when he came to her with what he thought was exciting news.
"About an hour ago, I picked up a man and a woman from the airport, who had come down to see Warwick," he said excitedly.
"And how do you know that?' Elsie asked.
"Because they were talking about him in the back seat," he said, turning his head in Elsie's direction. "Please keep your eyes on the road Robert. I'd like to arrive at Elm Tree in one piece. Robert straightened up and looked to the front. "How do you know it was Warwick they were talking about?" Elsie asked. "They were saying their names, Warwick, Susan. Then, when we got to the Winston Motel, he asked if I would come back in a half hour and take them to Travis Court. I don't think any other people called Warwick and Susan live in Travis Court, do you?" he asked with a hint of the melodrama. Elsie gave due consideration to the question, still somewhat sceptical and said," No, I don't suppose so. What did they say?" she asked.
Robert took a deep breath, and tried to reconstruct the conversation he heard an hour earlier. Try as he might however, he was never going to make it sound convincing. "Well, I'm not sure exactly, but they said Warwick had been dishonest and that he knew where Mary Therese was and some woman in Cairns knew him from somewhere, and they had spoken to some other woman. Hang on, I wrote down her name on a piece of paper?"
As he took his eyes off the road, the car drifted into the path of an oncoming bus.
"ROBERT, WATCH THE ROAD!" Elsie screamed.
Robert recovered, swerving back onto the correct side, as the bus passed within millimetres, the driver blasting his horn for several seconds. "Robert," Elsie yelled. "Don't say another word. Just drive the car and take me to Elm Tree Cottages. If you say one more word, I'll report you to the taxi company for harassment and you will be sacked."
Meanwhile, Jenny and Brad gazed at the front entrance hall which led to the spiral staircase on the left, with the tennis court at the rear, viewed through a wall of glass directly behind the staircase. The hall floor was marble, the staircase reminiscent of something out of 'Gone with the wind.' "My God," Jenny said, "How many people live here?" Susan laughed off the question. "Just us now, since our daughter Joanne moved out," she said. "We're grandparents now, did you know?" Jenny squealed with delight. "You're kidding? You are too young to be grandparents," she said. "Come on," Susan said, "I'll show you around."
While Brad and Jenny Murphy were receiving the royal tour of the Steedman's mansion in Templestowe, Robert and Elsie arrived in one piece, at Elm Tree Cottages, to collect Richard. After the incident with the bus, Robert had complied with his mother's wishes and remained silent for the rest of the journey. At unit 49, the weekend supervisor had been entertaining some of the residents with a karaoke performance of Roy Orbison's 'Crying'. It was pathetic. Even Richard could see that. "P-p-play-y AAABBBA," he called out, as he thumped his forearm on the couch. "P-l-a-y- Ho-o-o-k-e-y Po-o-k-e-y," he said. If Richard was able, he probably would have added, 'anything except this crap!' The supervisor, by this stage had become so engrossed in his own performance, that he neither heard Richard's cries, nor noticed Elsie and Robert walk in the front door. Elsie had been here several times, and knew exactly what to expect. Robert, however had never been to see his brother at Elm Tree, preferring to see him just once a year at a family Christmas gathering, usually at Elsie's flat. The supervisor's vocal range was being tested with the higher notes of the song, and he not unexpectedly began to falter. Apart from Richard, the audience of disabled residents was indifferent to the performance and elected not to demonstrate any tangible evidence of appreciation. Richard, however persisted. "P-l-a-y-A-B-B-A"
Elsie and Robert stood at the door until, mercifully, the performance came to a conclusion. Elsie immediately sat with Richard, and encouraged him to applaud the supervisor's performance. Robert followed suit in a somewhat subdued, and less animated way. At that point, the main focus of the residents' attention was then transferred to the two visitors. Some were unmoved and showed no interest, others moved toward the two newcomers. Elsie was used to this and handled their advances with kindness, understanding and tolerance. When Richard's travelling companion Daphne, offered Robert a string basket of magazines, Robert felt threatened and backed off, only to be confronted from behind by Richard's other travelling companion, Rowland, needing some help putting on his shoes. "Leave him alone Daphne," the supervisor called out to her. "Rowland, put your shoes on," he said. Robert, still feeling somewhat threatened, moved toward Elsie, as would a young child seeking parental protection when frightened.
"Hello Elsie, how are you?" the supervisor asked. "Richard," he called out, "look who's come to see you today?" Richard was always thrilled to see Elsie and bounced up and down in his seat.
"I'd like to take him out for the afternoon," Elsie said.
"Richard, did you hear that? You are going out today," the supervisor said. "And is th
is your taxi driver you have with you Elsie?" the supervisor asked, looking at Robert, who was dressed in his taxi uniform. "Yes," Elsie said. "This is my son Robert, who is taking us out today. Robert, say hello to your brother," Elsie said.
Robert looked increasingly uncomfortable, but moved toward his brother Richard. He bent down and said, "Hello old son, how have you been?" He was somewhat surprised when Richard looked up at him and said, "R-o-b-e-r-t." He had not heard him say his name before.
Meanwhile, Julian and Myra had driven to Maria's house to pick her up, and continue on their way to Warwick's house. When she answered the door, Maria looked strangely ashen, shocked and unsteady.
"What's the matter?" Julian asked.
"You won't believe what I just found out," Maria said, as the car pulled out from the driveway.
"What?' Julian asked.
"After I spoke with you and Elsie, I decided to ring the offices of Frank Martin, the solicitor in Baldargo. I thought there might be a chance that he was in his office on Saturday or that the call might be transferred to his home. I hoped he might tell me whether or not Michelle had been to see him," she said.
"Yes, and what did you learn?" Julian asked.
"Michelle answered the phone," Maria cried.
"You're kidding! She answered the phone?" Julian queried.
"Yes. I was so shocked I didn't quite know how to respond."
"So, did she explain anything?" Julian asked, more interested in Michelle's well being, than in any in-depth defence of her unexpected departure.
"She certainly did. I can't tell you right now but I'll explain everything later," Maria said, conscious of Myra's presence in the front seat of the car.
"Oh don't worry about Myra," Julian said. "Anything you say won't go beyond this car. Is Michelle okay?" he asked.
"What's that?' Myra said, hearing her name mentioned.
"Nothing Myra, just a bit of local gossip," Julian answered.
"Yes she's fine. I have to say I'm still getting over the shock of it all," Maria answered.
"What did she say?" Julian persisted.
"Well," Maria began, "you remember all that information I told you about her being my niece and Andrea's daughter?"
"Yes."
"Well, it appears that none of it is true."
"You're kidding?"
"No, I'm still finding it hard to believe. Michelle was terribly upset, but at least she was willing to talk to me about it. She says she's not Andrea's daughter at all. It was all a set up by Frank Martin, the solicitor in Baldargo. Michelle worked for him. He was blackmailing her because she tampered with the trust account. Apparently, Andrea asked Frank Martin to find Mary Therese, and Frank saw an opportunity to cash in on Andrea's money. He thought Michelle looked like Andrea, which I must admit she does, and forced her into pretending that she was her daughter. Can you believe the gall of the man?"
"Michelle was pretending to be Mary Therese?" Julian asked.
"Yes, it seems so. Is that unbelievable or what? How am I going to tell Elsie?" Maria replied.
"What was Frank Martin's association with Andrea?" Julian asked.
"They met at university years ago, and he's been doing some conveyancing work for her. She must have really trusted him and all along he was scheming to defraud her," Maria said. Julian was stunned. He sat there in the driver's seat, negotiating the midday weekend traffic, silently absorbing all that Maria had said. Questions began pouring into his brain, but his principal concern was for Michelle.
At Warwick's house, after a relaxing drink in the lounge room, Susan suggested she begin preparations for lunch. Jenny offered to help her, and Brad Murphy skilfully engineered Warwick away from the two wives. Although the Steedman's hospitality had completely disarmed him, and one or two whiskeys had removed any antagonism toward Warwick, Brad decided to get to the heart of the matter, as they walked outside and began to wander around Warwick's garden.
"Warwick," he said as he admired the beautiful rose garden, "I need to speak to you privately and clear up a few things that are bothering me about my enquiries concerning Mary Therese." Warwick, who was himself under the influence of a couple of whiskeys, nodded thoughtfully. "Yep, sure, but, before you start, let me say that I sincerely appreciate the work you have done, and I want you to invoice my office for your time," he said poking the side of Brad's arm. "While I haven't met Mary Therese yet, and I'm still a bit stunned to learn that she was here in Melbourne all the time, I want to thank you for doing a sterling job."
"Well, there you see, that's just it, isn't it?" Brad took a deep breath, conscious of his slightly inebriated state.
"That's just what?" Warwick asked.
"Well, you see, I have the feeling that Mary Therese is not in Melbourne at all," he said, and added, "and I have this sneaking suspicion that you knew all the time."
"Knew what?" Warwick asked.
"Knew that Mary Therese was in Sydney," Brad said.
"What? No, she's here in Melbourne. Mother told me. Mother wouldn't say that if it wasn't so. Oops, I forgot, she rang earlier and said she was coming over later," he added. "You will get to meet her this afternoon."
Brad paused a moment. "Who? Mary Therese?" he asked.
"No! Mother!" Warwick answered.
"Oh," Brad said, and collected his thoughts. "Are you saying that you really don't know that Mary Therese is in Sydney?" Brad pressed.
"She's not in Sydney, she's here old boy," he answered. "Where did you get the idea she was in Sydney?" Warwick asked.
Brad hesitated for one brief moment, as the thought shot through his mind that Rosie Fitzgibbon might have led him astray. He quickly dismissed the notion and decided to proceed.
"Rosie Fitzgibbon told me," he said.
"Rosie who?" Warwick asked.
"Now come on, don't try and tell me you don't know who Rosie Fitzgibbon is?" Brad said firmly.
"Never heard of her," Warwick said with a slur of the voice. "Who is she?" he asked. Brad began to get a little flustered. "Come on now," he said carefully, "Next you'll be saying you've never heard of Julie Macleod either?" he posed.
"Nup," Warwick replied. "Don't know her either. Who's she?" he asked. Brad was perplexed. He did not anticipate complete denial from Warwick. He paused a few moments and changed tack.
"Did you have a good time in Cairns and Brisbane last week or whenever it was?' he asked Warwick. Warwick suddenly stopped walking, and stared up into the pale blue sky. With deliberate forethought and consideration of Brad's question, he raised his eyebrows, turned to him, looked him straight in the eye, and said, "I wasn't in Cairns or Brisbane last week. I haven't been to Cairns in years. I wouldn't even know what the place looked like."
Brad was stunned.
Julian put on his right hand indicator as he approached an intersection. While he spoke with Maria, Myra had dropped off to sleep. "If what you say is true, Frank Martin is a crook and therefore by association, so is Michelle," he said to Maria. "Is anything going to happen to her?" he added. Maria had not thought through the legalities of what she had been told by Michelle. "Oh dear, I never thought of that. We must not say anything at this stage. I promised her that," she said. "Jesus, we'd better be careful. We don't want to be the ones to put Michelle in jail."
"So what is she going to do? Is she coming back?" Julian asked.
"Not for the moment. She's too embarrassed. I told her I wouldn't say anything to anyone except you. She nearly freaked out when I mentioned you. I told her you knew as much as I did, and that I wouldn't be able to keep this from you."
"Did she say anything else?" Julian asked. "About me, I mean!"
"Um, no not really. It wasn't that sort of a conversation. She's very fragile at the moment. I said I'd call her again tomorrow. My God, what am I going to tell Elsie?" Maria answered.
At Elm Tree Cottages, Robert assisted Richard into the taxi and put on his seat belt. "J-u-l-i-a-n's C-a-r!" Richard cried out. Robert was taken by surprise.
"How did you know that?" he asked. "J-u-l-i-a-n's Car," he repeated. "Yes all right, it's Julian's car. How did he know that?" Robert then asked Elsie, who climbed in the back seat with Richard. "Julian takes him to Walter Adult Support each day, doesn't he, Richard?" Elsie said as she adjusted his jacket. "J-u-l-i-a-n's c-a-r," Richard replied.
As Robert drove out of Elm Tree Cottages, Elsie asked, "I didn't realise you knew Julian?" Robert waited at the exit until it was clear. "I've only met him once. He drives this car for Alberto," he replied. "I drive for Alberto too. It's just a coincidence. He was there the other night when the man shot himself, too," Robert added.
"Who shot himself?' Elsie asked.
"I told you about that yesterday," Robert replied. Elsie looked confused. "I'm lost. I don't remember what you told me," she said. "I rang you and told you this bloke shot himself at a prayer meeting," Robert said. "Margaret was there too. Didn't she mention it? Or haven't you spoken to her recently?" Elsie sat quietly for a few moments wondering if she was loosing her memory. "I spoke to Margaret today. She's coming to see Warwick with her friend this afternoon, I hope. But I don't think she said anything about a man being shot. What were you doing at a prayer meeting?" she asked. Robert now regretted mentioning the incident, which included his extortion attempt on Warwick, and wanted to change the subject. "Oh, I just happened to be in the area at the time. Margaret knows more about it. You can ask her," he said as he turned onto the freeway. "I'm not sure Margaret knows who she is at the moment, leaving George for another woman," Elsie reflected out loud. Before Robert could answer, Richard jumped in as usual. "P-l-a-y A-B-B-A," he cried.
"Would you put some music on for him, please Robert," Elsie asked. Robert fumbled around in the glove box. "I've only got the Beatles, Richard. That will have to do," he said. "B-e-a-t-l-e-s?" Richard said vaguely, but when the music came on, he began his customary rocking backwards and forwards.
"Now what was this you just said about Margaret and another woman?" Robert asked.
39.
