by Di Morrissey
‘You little devil,’ she said, but somehow she felt his cheeky gesture was a good-luck sign. That he was watching out for her, for the farm. It occurred to her that she must tell Ross that the area had a weird little protector – as long as you greeted him and offered hospitality whenever he appeared. Maybe that had been Dave’s mistake, and Tim’s good fortune. It had been Munda who’d first mentioned the Lacepedes as likely new grounds. Strange little person. But then, so many strange things had happened these past few months Lily had begun to accept them as normal.
As she turned onto the Cape Leveque road to head to Broome she laughed out loud, thinking again of how much her life had changed since leaving Sydney earlier in the year. She knew her future was up here, and her role was to be a struggling then, hopefully, successful pearler. How far away and how smothering Sydney seemed. The treadmill of the job, a lifestyle that now seemed shallow and meaningless, friendships that were often so superficial. Here, she felt a freedom of spirit, freedom to be herself, discover herself. She’d hoped so much that Sami would experience this too . . . and in thinking about their family connection it occurred to Lily that everyone around her was like family. Broome was a small town where connections overlapped and rubbed up against each other just like in families. And despite the struggles of plunging into something new, the fears and hiccups, in her heart she knew it was the right thing to have done.
The thought of Palmer then flashed through her mind, as it did so often, and that was a pleasant feeling as well. Very pleasant. He was planning to spend as much time as possible up here. Where would that lead them both? She never thought she’d feel like this again. Her body felt alive, all her senses were switched on for the first time in years.
Her musings stopped as a car came towards her, creating a trail of dust. They both veered to either side of the centred line of car tracks in the soft red dirt, giving each other a flick of a finger greeting. Then Lily resumed thinking about her life, and where it was going. Dale came up on the mental agenda. When she got to Broome she faced a painful meeting. But she and Palmer had agreed, if there was to be a future for them in Broome, she had to be up-front with Dale. She’d called to tell him she was coming to town, and from the tone of his voice she figured he had probably guessed what was in the wind.
Ross made the introductions. ‘Dr Ted Palmer . . . Detective-Sergeant Karl Howard.’ The men shook hands and sat down at the table in Howard’s office.
‘I’ve spoken to the newspaper editor, he’s remaking the front page which comes out on Thursday,’ said the detective. ‘He needs a few details which I gather you can provide.’ He looked at Palmer.
‘What we told you about in the phone call, the salvaged relics and so on, is in confidence at this stage,’ said Palmer. ‘The Federal bods are coming up, but in the meantime we don’t want the mob out there to know there’s a small goldmine sitting under Lily’s bed at the farm.’
‘Yeah, sure. But, I mean, there’s some speculation you’ve put together that can give the story a real edge, and maybe flush out the clues we desperately need at this stage. The top question is, who is this bloke?’ Howard flicked the photograph of Hajid across the desk. ‘And thank you again, Ross, for digging it up.’
‘What have you done with this photo so far?’ asked Ross.
‘It’s gone national, and out through Interpol, but no word back yet. I’m hoping someone local might recognise him on the front page.’
‘Once the story breaks here, the rest of the media will jump on it,’ said Ross. ‘Hints of treasure, international art theft, a body in the bush, it has everything.’
‘Have a look at this,’ interjected Palmer, taking a folder out of his briefcase. ‘Here’s a picture of what looks like the medallion that Pauline had. And here are some pictures I got emailed from my mate at Curtin Uni. He’s a numismatics specialist – right into gold coins, among other things. Plus we have a translation of the message inside the sun emblem.’
The detective and Ross both peered at the photographs of gold coins. Ross was the first to react. ‘Nice one, Palmer. Okay, what’s it saying?’
Howard endorsed the question. ‘Surprise us.’
‘That stuff under Lily’s bed is quite well documented and catalogued. It’s obscure but known to museums and curators of ancient Central Asian art,’ said Palmer. ‘There are books devoted to this stuff – even these particular pieces. Whoever took it must have been planning to sell to private collectors, and there are plenty around who don’t ask awkward questions, if you get my drift.’
‘Where was it knocked off from, then?’ asked Howard.
‘Afghanistan, probably Kabul Museum. The Taliban destroyed some great, great art collections. Not just the big Bamiyan Buddhas. The note that was inside the sun gives sketchy details about the collection Tim found, where it was excavated by the Soviet archaeologists in 1978 at Tillya-tepe. And directions to a location on Sunday Island.’
‘Jesus, that’s incredible,’ exclaimed Howard. ‘Broome crime is moving into the big league, hey? Now tell me, why was it heading for some little island in King Sound?’
‘Can you think of a better place?’ said Palmer. ‘Somewhere that’s deserted, not patrolled, close to international outlets. Some amazing stuff came onto the market when people were trying to sell what they could to get out of the place during the Taliban madness.’
‘Wouldn’t it be easier, safer, to melt down the gold?’ Howard asked.
Palmer shuddered. ‘Please, don’t even mention that. There are fears that could have happened to some of the lost treasures. Many were destroyed for crazy reasons. But it’s far more valuable intact.’
‘So what is it?
‘My art historian friend thinks it’s got to be Bactrian – an empire that flourished around about the second millennium BC on the Bactrian plains that are now part of northern Afghanistan. It was a Greek kingdom that was eventually overrun by the Kushan nomads from southern Siberia. That’s probably a Bactrian king’s head on the coin there.’
‘Makes you wonder what else could be floating around,’ said Ross. ‘What’s going to happen to it?’
‘Once identified for sure, it will go back to the museum. They’ll be thrilled to get something back. A lot of good stuff was hidden so these pieces could have been stolen when things were so chaotic,’ said Palmer. ‘No salvage rights for Tim Hudson, unfortunately.’
‘Pauline can’t wait to see it,’ said Ross. ‘From what Lily had hinted to her, she can see the basis of a whole collection of jewellery – using pearls with the old Greek and nomad design influence.’
‘Yeah, well my interest is a little less glamorous. How to clear up the links with the loot, this mysterious fellow and Stern so that it all holds water, and hopefully solve the murder,’ said the detective, reaching for the telephone. ‘Let’s see how the local news hounds react to some of this. Nice touch having a few pictures to dress up the story. Should stir up something, that’s for sure.’
‘How do I look?’ Lily swung around and faced Rosie. ‘This is where I need my daughter’s snappy advice on how to dress to sever a relationship.’
‘I thought you were dressing to impress the visitors.’
‘I’m off to the airport after this little informal coffee. It gives me an excuse to escape.’ She turned back to the mirror in the bedroom to adjust her silk shirt and straighten her linen skirt. The magnificent strand of Olivia’s pearls shone against the cream silk.
‘Oh Lily, can’t you stay friends? It’s going to be so hard for you both – living in the same small town.’
‘Dale is a rather black and white kind of man. And when it comes to his pride and ego, I fear there are no half measures.’
‘He must know, though. You’ve hardly seen each other for ages and . . .’ Rosie stopped. ‘You look great. Very ladylike, the pearls are going to knock them out. And you can quite rightly say they came from your farm, even if it was Star of the Sea in Tyndall’s day.’
‘What were
you going to say?’ asked Lily. ‘Were you going to say something about Dale?’
‘No, nothing. It doesn’t matter now.’
‘Rosie, please don’t hold anything back. As you say, everyone gossips here, I’ll hear whatever it is anyway.’
‘I was having a coffee with the girls outside Chinatown Music and I spotted Dale drive past with a young woman in the car.’
‘It could have been anyone. A friend of Simon’s.’
‘Er, no. Gaye and Wendy saw them having dinner at Matso’s. Very cosy. She’s maybe younger than Sami.’
Lily didn’t say anything.
‘Are you okay? Do you care?’
Lily thought for a moment longer. ‘Not for me. It makes it easier, in a way. I won’t say anything, don’t worry. I feel sorry for Dale.’
‘What! Why for gosh sake, Lily?’
‘Silly bugger. He always made fun of the older men–young women syndrome. He said they lost their money along with their dignity. Now he’s doing the same thing.’
‘You don’t suppose he’s doing this deliberately? Just as a ruse to upset you? He’d know it would get out eventually. I mean, why dine in a public place?’
‘Who knows? And I’m not going to ask. It’s too late to change my little speech. Okay, I’m going. Wish me luck with the honourable investors.’
‘Good luck. And good luck with Dale.’ Rosie watched her go, then she walked into Biddy’s old room where Lizzie was lying on the floor drawing with great concentration, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth.
‘What are you painting, my lovely?’ Rosie bent down and looked at the strange teddy-faced figures. ‘Where did you see these, Lizzie?’ she asked quietly.
‘Here, in Biddy’s room. They dance at nighttime. They play funny games in the garden too.’
‘They’re mischievous little spirits. You’re a lucky girl to see them.’ Rosie studied the picture. Whether Lizzie had seen the Rai spirits or not there was no mistaking her little daughter could draw.
Dale was courteous, greeting Lily with a friendly kiss on the cheek, pulling out the chair for her as she sat across from him at the Teahouse Cafe. ‘Appropriate choice,’ said Lily. ‘I’m about to collect the investors and show them around town.’
‘And the farm?’
‘Of course. That’s where their money has gone.’
‘How’s it going?’
‘It’s been full-on. Good, bad, mad.’
‘I’d like to hear about it.’
‘Would you really, Dale, or are you just being polite?’
‘Come on, Lily, give me credit. I might not have agreed with this idea in the first place but I have to admire you sticking at it.’ He took the menu from the pretty waitress, a Scandinavian backpacker dressed in a kimono.
‘And working like a navvy too. When I said I wanted to be hands on I didn’t imagine I’d be lugging crates and panels of shell around.’ She looked ruefully at her manicure.
‘Is it worth it? Are you pleased you tossed me aside for a rundown pearl farm and a bunch of odd bods?’ He gave a slight smile.
‘Dale! That’s not the case.’ She did think swiftly how he’d apparently tossed her aside for a young girl but kept quiet about it. She ordered lemon myrtle tea. ‘And I haven’t tossed you aside, as you put it. It seems we’ve been travelling in different directions, with different dreams. I want to make sure we stay friends. It’s silly not to, don’t you think?’
He didn’t answer as he gave the order: ‘One lemon myrtle and a jasmine tea with honey.’ Lily was surprised at him drinking tea and not wine but said nothing. He looked at Lily. ‘What do friends do?’
‘Support each other, be there for each other, enjoy shared ideas, companionship –’
Dale held up his hand. ‘That’s fine. But it doesn’t excite me too much. I liked the sex, being seen with a great looking woman, entertained the idea of travelling, having a good time . . . We’re different people, aren’t we? I’ve never been one for hanging out in the bush. Broome is far enough away from the bright lights for me, I wouldn’t want to go any further.’
‘The farm is remote but it’s beautiful. I’ve yet to really get out into the Kimberley wilderness. I’m looking forward to it.’ She thought of Palmer’s promise to take her to the places he and Sami talked about.
‘You can fly over it and see it in a couple of hours. Much easier. Go to El Questro for dinner.’
Lily laughed. ‘Oh, Dale, you’ll never change.’
‘You’ve changed.’
‘I don’t think so. I think this person was lurking inside me all along waiting to leap out,’ she said. ‘So how is Simon?’ she asked politely.
‘Causing me a few problems. He has something of a drug problem. I’m thinking of sending him to rehab in Perth.’
‘Dale, I’m sorry to hear that. It must be hard for you to make that decision,’ said Lily sincerely.
‘Well the alternative is far worse.’ He sipped his tea. ‘And what about Sami?’
‘Busy. I still don’t think she’s going to stay here. But we each have to get on with our lives. She’s been involved with an art project in the desert. And she and Tim have made a sensational find. It might help answer a few questions about certain things in town.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Seems the detectives here are linking the break-ins in town with the murder of that Stern guy.’
‘The same person did both?’ Dale leaned forward intently.
‘I’m talking out of turn. Read about it in the newspaper. Listen, I have to go in a minute.’ She finished her tea.
‘Well, good luck with the money men. Tell them I have a few things they could throw their money at if they’re wanting to diversify.’
Lily gave a light laugh. ‘Get in line, everyone who knows about their visit is thinking the same thing.’ He rose and Lily gave him an awkward smile. ‘I hope things work out for you, Dale. Even if we aren’t meant to be together, I’ll always be a friend.’
‘Yeah, well thanks.’ He didn’t look overly enthusiastic, more a little sad or maybe distracted, thought Lily. ‘You’ll excuse me if I don’t see you off.’ In truth Dale was deeply hurt and upset at the loss of Lily from his life, but he was buggered if he’d show it.
‘Of course. I’d better get to the airport.’ At the doorway she glanced back and saw Dale talking animatedly to the waitress. He’ll be just fine, she thought. Over me in a flash, that’s for sure. I wonder what I ever saw in him. But there was a niggling pang of hurt pride, and the realisation that she could not compete in the beauty department with slim blonde twenty-somethings. But then, she didn’t want to. Palmer said he found Lily stimulating because she was involved and interested in her own life and had embraced a big challenge.
Lily decided not to dwell on Palmer or Dale, and headed for the airport, memorising the polite welcome greeting Mika had drilled into her. But she hoped Mika would be there as she’d promised.
Lily had it in her head to expect just the two executives – dark suits, white shirts, serious, hesitant English. How wrong she was. There were seven of them. Wives, two assistants and a son in his early twenties on a break from university – all on holiday. They wore colourful casual clothes making Lily feel quite over-dressed. They were in high spirits and spoke excellent English. The party was booked into the Cable Beach Club, and while Mika went with the entourage to the hotel, Mr Komiatyi – ‘Please call me Kom’ – and Mr Tobayashi – ‘Please call me Toby’ – asked Lily to show them around Broome.
She drove them through town, relating potted histories, identifying local sights, stopping for them to be photographed at Streeters Jetty, and then into Linneys of Broome pearl showroom to meet Bill Reed. He was charming and amusing, and brought out photos of old Broome, pointing from his balcony to Dampier Creek and showing in the photos the same spot filled with working luggers. She could tell they would have liked to stay on much longer, but she gently eased them away by saying they must bring
everyone to the Historical Society where Val had set up a special exhibition for them. While they mopped their brows, the two men were cheerfully enthusiastic.
She drove them to Gantheaume Point and watched them marvel at the coastline, the sculptured red rocks, the vivid, almost lurid brightness of the turquoise bay. ‘It is wonderful. Very, very beautiful,’ said Toby. ‘I thought the pictures you sent were not real.’
‘Yes, unless you come here and see for yourself, you can’t believe the colours are real,’ agreed Lily.
Driving back along Dampier Terrace, the men noted the row of pearl shops with the ever-present tourists and when she stopped outside Pauline Despar Designs, they admired the elegant black and red décor. The door was unlocked by Bertrand who had also dressed up for the occasion in a smart tie and linen jacket. He quietly locked the door again behind them.
Lily introduced Pauline and Bertrand and they followed Pauline around the glass showcases as she took out pieces from her stunning collection of carved pearlshell jewellery as well as selected pieces from her Celestial Collection. The two businessmen were impressed. ‘It is excellent to see such beautiful objects made from the shell. Value-added product,’ said Kom.
‘Pearl meat is also very profitable,’ said Lily. ‘We have been selling ours but I’d like to develop that side of the business as well.’ The men nodded. They knew the dried pearl oyster meat was sold at huge prices in Asia. ‘When you come to the farm, Serena our chef will make you her speciality with the pearl meat.’
‘Ah, we look forward to tasting it fresh,’ said Kom.
They had many questions for Pauline and then Lily told them she had a surprise – the first of the harvest.
The best of the pearls were laid out on black velvet trays and even Lily was stunned at how wonderful they looked, although she’d caressed every one. They discussed the quality, the lustre, the size, the possible value. ‘It depends on what the market demands,’ Lily explained. ‘A strand of matched perfect fifteen-millimetre silver-pinks could fetch hundreds of thousands of dollars. At the moment, gold lustre is becoming popular. And when they’re set with Argyle diamonds and precious stones, it adds a lot.’
