by Di Morrissey
‘It’s great that Billy has such wonderful family around him,’ said Veronica. ‘Jamie, I’ve had an unforgettable day but I have to say I’m weary too. I’m not used to climbing up gorges. Thanks so much. Call me a taxi and I’ll head home.’
‘Nonsense. I’ve only had two wines, I’ll drive you. I’ll just ring Mum and ask her to pop in as I’ll be gone a short while, in case Billy needs anything.’
When they pulled up at the Mantra Jamie jumped from the four-wheel drive, still muddy from their trek into the Lost City and opened Veronica’s car door for her before she could open it herself.
‘Thank you, thank you,’ said Veronica.
‘Sleep well. Let me know how you get on and if you need me to arrange anything if you’re going to Arnhem Land and when.’
‘I will. Thanks, Jamie.’
He gave a smile and small wave and leapt back in the car but he didn’t pull away until she was inside the lobby.
The next morning Veronica called Andy and discussed the row she’d had with Eddie.
‘Oh dear, Veronica. That’s too bad. I hoped Eddie might have matured or calmed down since being up there. I guess he just resents your authority, but he is a good cameraman.’
‘Y’ know, Andy, I’m the boss, this story’s my responsibility and if Eddie can’t cope with that, then blow him. I can use young Dougie. I was happy with what he shot.’
‘You’d better talk to Murphy. Now, I’ve been on the case tracking down Marta.’
‘Go Andy!’
‘Don’t get too excited. She did a bit of modelling in Sydney as well as acting. I’ve put out feelers among the old casting agents who’re still around. And you remember my pal Alec Blair. You met him at the Pioneers’ Reunion?’
‘Ah, yes. TV director. Advertising?’
‘Right. I’m having lunch with him today so I’ll take along the picture of Marta you sent me. Alec has a memory like an elephant, especially for pretty girls. He might give me some leads on other people or agencies to chase up.’
‘Okay, let me know. Doris would love to make contact with her.’
‘So how is little Doris?’
‘A feisty, smart and amazing woman. A terrific family. I loved them.’
Andy caught a wistful note in her voice. ‘And? She remembered Marta?’
‘Oh yes. I thought it was strange enough that Jamie McIntosh is Doris’s son, but that Doris has kept the bracelet Marta gave her all those years ago is touching.’
‘Women never part with jewellery,’ said Andy.
‘C’mon, it was one of three very special things she owned.’
‘Well, keep me in the loop. Where to next?’
‘I’m going back to the library for a bit more trawling and maybe back to the archives, too. You never know, something useful might turn up.’
‘Anything else?’
‘I’m interviewing Doris on camera in a day or so.’
It was an uncomfortable meeting with Murphy, the chief-of-staff, but he allowed Veronica to use Dougie again as her cameraman.
‘It’s no reflection on Eddie’s work,’ Veronica reassured Murphy. ‘It’s just that it’s been a difficult personal relationship.’
‘If I’d known the history I might have avoided teaming you up. I thought you’d worked together before, not been in a relationship.’
‘These things happen,’ said Veronica.
‘Yeah, tell me about it,’ he said.
Back at the library and having exhausted the entertainment pages and finding no more references to Marta, Veronica decided to continue looking in the general section of the papers of 1955 to see if she could find anything else relevant. In the hushed atmosphere Veronica hunched over the microfilm reader. As she scrolled through, she saw a banner headline that stilled her hand and made her gasp out loud:
‘FOREIGN FILMMAKER KILLED BY CROC!’
Quickly she took in the gist of the story, her heart beating.
European film producer Maxim Topov, who has been making a documentary on outback Australia, was taken by a crocodile in Arnhem Land near the South Alligator River. Mr Topov, who is believed to be Russian, had left his companions to film at sunset and did not return. His possessions were found but his body was not recovered. Professional crocodile shooter Len Buchanan said there had been reports from Aborigines in the area of a rogue croc. Police are investigating. Said District Officer Sergeant O’Hara, ‘Travellers, especially foreigners, need to be better educated about the threats to their safety from crocodiles and not camp near their known habitats.’ Mr Topov’s companions have returned to Darwin. The authorities plan to notify Mr Topov’s friends and family in Sydney. A hunting party has been dispatched from Darwin to locate the croc.
My God, when John Cardwell said things fell apart in Darwin he wasn’t joking, thought Veronica. She couldn’t believe it. She looked at the date of the story. It had happened only a couple of weeks after Marta’s performance had finished. Poor Topov. She thought of the photo she’d seen of him, with his wild hair and rotund figure. From Colin’s description, he’d seemed so much larger than life. What a terrible thing to have happened.
Veronica hurried outside, her finger on Andy’s number in her mobile phone.
10
EMERGING INTO BRIGHT SUNSHINE on the manicured lawn outside Parliament House, Veronica headed for the shade of a tree as she told Andy the shocking news about Topov’s death.
He let out a low whistle. ‘That puts a different slant on things, doesn’t it?’
‘Do we still have a story to tell?’ asked Veronica.
‘I think so. We never expected to find Topov living after all this time, anyway. I wonder why Colin didn’t tell us about this right away?’ mused Andy. ‘Is there something odd about the secrecy?’
‘I don’t know, Andy. Perhaps he wanted to surprise me. I’m so tempted to go back to Colin and try again,’ said Veronica.
‘You might not have to, I’ve had a bit of luck with Alec. I took the picture of Marta to lunch and he recognised her. Couldn’t remember her name but he always remembers a pretty face. She was in a couple of ads he did.’
‘Really! Does he know what happened to her?’
‘The last he knew she was still around in Australia in the late fifties and she’d been doing some acting – stage mainly as her accent was a handicap for film – but he remembers that there was a bit of a write-up in the paper about her going to Hollywood to play a foreign spy in some war film.’
‘Yes, I’ve found a reference to that, too. Did he know any more?’
‘No. But Alec said we should contact SAG – the Screen Actors’ Guild – in the US as she’d have to have been a member.’
‘Good one. Doris would adore to see her again if we can find her.’
‘I’ll see what I can find out from SAG. What’s your next move?’
‘I’m going to see what we can dig up in the files about Topov’s death. There must be a report on it somewhere.’
‘Let’s hope. Good luck, Veronica. Talk to you later.’
It was Collette at the archives who suggested Veronica look at the death files.
‘Here are the files for 1953 to 1959,’ said Collette as Veronica settled herself at a table in the archives’ reading room. ‘You could expect to find police findings and reports, witness accounts. There could also be correspondence exchanged with the family of the victim,’ she added helpfully.
‘Okay. I’ll see what’s in here. Thanks, Collette.’
‘I’ll get you a coffee before you start looking, if you like,’ offered Collette with a smile.
‘You’ve been so helpful, I’m very grateful,’ said Veronica.
‘I’m as interested as you are, now, to find out what happened,’ said Collette.
Two hours later Veronica rang Dougie. ‘Can you come over to the archives and shoot a sequence with Collette and myself please, Dougie? We’re looking at old police records.’
‘How are we going to make that look intere
sting for TV?’ he asked.
‘Collette can be the star of this segment,’ she answered.
So Dougie filmed Collette reading and discussing the file she’d found on the death of Maxim Topov with Veronica.
According to the police report, the authorities in Darwin had been notified by the group of travellers that one of their party, Mr Maxim Topov, had gone missing after going out late one afternoon and had not returned that evening or the following morning. The group were filmmakers and Topov had been making small forays from their camp to film the area. Others in the group had been helping Mr Len Buchanan, a well-known crocodile hunter, to hunt the crocodiles known to frequent that part of the South Alligator River. The party had been camped above Wild Man’s Crossing, a small stone weir used by horses and cars to cross the river and some of Mr Topov’s possessions, a knapsack and food, were found near it.
During the wet season, the flow from the river covers the crossing making it dangerous or impossible to cross, but at the time of year Mr Topov disappeared, the water was shallow, making it easy to cross on foot, but also providing easy access for crocodiles. Next to the crossing was a clearing used by locals to launch small boats. It was regarded as a dangerous place to stop because crocodiles were known to wait along the banks.
‘So the police theory was that when Topov was filming either along the bank or as he went over the crossing he was nabbed by a croc,’ said Veronica.
Collette nodded. ‘Even today the crossing is a well known croc habitat, although it’s become a popular tourist spot and the local Aborigines run indigenous river cruises from there.’
‘Is there anything else you can tell me? Was there any follow-up? Was anyone else in the area? What happened to his possessions? Were there any other investigations?’ asked Veronica.
Collette scanned the notes. ‘A policeman visited the scene some time later, but no remains of Topov were ever found. Brief statements were taken from his party when they arrived back in Darwin, all corroborating the details. They’re attached here. Basically they told the police when he hadn’t returned late the next morning and they went looking for him. They found his personal effects and also croc mudslides along the bank. The policeman found evidence that someone had been on the opposite side of the crossing, but that was several days later so it might not have been Topov at all.’ She looked at Veronica. ‘It’s a beautiful but treacherous place. It is named after an old prospector who ran cattle and was a buffalo shooter and a friend of the local Aborigines. We’ve got a file on Wild Man Johnson in here.’
‘It sounds an intriguing place. I’ll have to go there now and film it. I wonder what Topov was trying to film?’ said Veronica.
‘I don’t think you’ll ever know that. But you’ll need a permit because once you cross from the Kakadu side of the river to the other side you’re in Arnhem Land.’
‘Yes. I understand. I’m working with Jamie McIntosh, I believe he can help me there.’
‘Ah, then you’ll be all right.’ Collette flipped to the last page of the file. ‘There’s one last statement here. Apparently all Mr Topov’s personal possessions were handed over to his business partner, Olga Konstantinova.’ Collette closed the file. ‘That’s it. It was a long time ago. I don’t know that you’ll find out anymore.’
Veronica knew her friend at the archives was right, unless, of course, they could speak with Marta. But she wanted badly to see the country that had so attracted Topov and which had killed him.
Dougie went back to the television station and Veronica ate lunch in a restaurant in the middle of town, marvelling at the variety of delicious food. As she walked through the CBD afterwards she spotted an art gallery with a poster in the window for an Arnhem Art Exhibition. She went in and was immediately transported to a world unlike any other she’d ever seen. The vibrancy and energy of the colours, the sense of place, affected her quite unexpectedly. While the style was what she could only think of as Aboriginal abstract, she could see the ranges and the strange jump-up rock formations, the rivers and the billabongs. What she’d thought of as traditional Aboriginal art with its distinctive dots and patterns was nothing like this. In these paintings pinks, purples, yellows, greens and blues were used in a strong and confident manner. As she studied them further, she saw stylised interpretations of birds, crocodiles and people. Some of the other paintings were more muted, dreamy images of the landscape as if seen through mist, or soft light, or perhaps, memory.
The woman staffing the gallery came over to her. ‘Can I help you? Or are you just looking?’
‘Just looking. This is amazing work, so different. Where’s it from?’ asked Veronica.
‘Several centres in Arnhem Land, as well as Roper River, a community at Ngukurr, Yolngu and there are several small family groups who work out of their settlements. Stunning, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. I love these.’ She picked up a multicoloured, finely woven basket from a display.
‘The Yolngu are master weavers. They dye strips of pandanus leaves to weave into all kinds of practical and pretty things. Look at these bead-like necklaces – they’re made from seeds, fish vertebrae and shells.’
Veronica bought a necklace for herself and a set of beautiful placemats for Sue and a basket for her mother. She really longed to buy a painting, but was so overwhelmed by all the different styles she’d seen, she decided to ask Jamie’s advice.
‘How’s it going?’ he asked, when she rang him. His voice was warm, which made Veronica feel it was more a personal than a professional question.
‘I’ve got some very surprising news.’ She filled him in on the death of Topov.
Jamie let out a deep breath. ‘Tragic. Where was he taken?’
‘At a place called Wild Man’s Crossing.’
‘I know it. South Alligator River. It’s probably even more dangerous now than it was then because of the recent increase in crocodile numbers.’ He paused and she could hear the smile in his voice. ‘I suppose you want to go there?’
‘Of course. It sounds as though this is the end of the road, as far as the story of the filmmakers goes, so we’ll need to film it.’
‘When do you want to go out there? I’ll have to let the locals know we want to cross the river into their land and film.’
‘Thanks. Well, if I don’t have any more leads, there’s not a lot of point marking time here in Darwin – much as I’m enjoying it. Dougie is on standby, so I can go to Wild Man’s Crossing as soon as you can get away.’
‘Dougie? Not Eddie?’
‘I’ll explain later,’ said Veronica. ‘Say, I was wondering if you could help me buy a painting. I’d love to have something to remind me of the Territory. But I’m a bit confused. Every place I see has wonderful art, or so it seems to me. But so much of it is so different and I don’t know what’s good and what’s tourist stuff.’
‘Ah, you’re right, some of the local art is wonderful and some is rubbish. The Western Desert art was the big breakthrough but not many artists work on bark anymore and now some of the contemporary art is very different from the old school. You need to talk to Mum, or better, Great Aunt Nellie in Katherine.’
‘Your mother’s aunt? Her mother’s sister?’
‘Yes. Funnily enough, when Nellie went into a nursing home in Katherine she was taken to the recreation centre. Having never been to school she didn’t want to know about knitting and playing cards but she took to drawing and colouring in. Then she wanted her own paper and crayons and she started doing some amazing stuff. Mum has since set her up with proper canvases and acrylic paints.’
‘And she’d never painted before? What does she paint?’ asked Veronica.
‘Her country and the old stories she was told, before people lived on the station or the mission came. She enjoys painting and it keeps her happy.’
‘What happens to her artworks? Are they any good?’
‘They’re different. She doesn’t have anyone to influence her. Mum gave her books on Aboriginal art and sh
owed her around a gallery. But Auntie just does her own thing. Mum wants to take her back to Brolga Springs so that she paint her country the proper way.’
‘Gosh, Jamie, that’d be really moving.’
‘You talk to Mum about her,’ said Jamie.
Veronica smiled. ‘Okay, I will. I’m doing the interview with Doris tomorrow morning.’
‘I’ll be in touch about the trip to Wild Man’s Crossing. Hopefully we can get away Thursday morning.’
‘Thanks, Jamie. I’ll alert Dougie.’
The following day she and Dougie went to film the interview with Doris at her home. Dougie was quite spellbound by Doris’s stories and the allotted two hours sped by. Veronica already had more footage than she needed, but Dougie was finding lots of good cutaways and Doris was in the mood to talk so Veronica wanted to hear more about her childhood at Brolga Springs and how her life changed after she went to Melbourne.
Finally Doris rose and apologised, saying that she had to go to a meeting. She hugged Veronica and added, ‘Jamie mentioned you’re interested in the local art. Would you like to see a couple of Auntie’s paintings?’
Doris led them to her study and pointed to a wall hung with bold and dramatic canvases. Some were sweeping landscapes seen from an old woman’s perspective. Other paintings were crammed with animals and plants, another was a frieze of figures depicting mundane tasks. Her choice of bright, strong primary colours amazed Veronica.
‘They’re unique. A genre or category of their own. Folk art, naïve art, tribal things, just wonderful,’ said Veronica. ‘I love them. But you need hours to absorb them.’
