The Silent Country (54 page)

‘I’ll meet you. I’ll tell Mum and Dad, they’ll be happy to see you again. In fact, would you like to stay with them? Mum loves visitors.’

Normally Veronica would have refused such an offer because she liked her peace and privacy when she was working and she’d liked the place she’d stayed before. But Doris and Alistair were another matter. ‘I don’t want to put them out . . .’ she began.

‘I’ll get Mum to ring you. If it’s not convenient, she’ll say so. Go to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

‘G’night, Jamie. Thanks.’

Andy handed Veronica a piece of paper. ‘Valma Konstantinova. Olga’s daughter. Phone number and address. You’ll see her before heading north?’

‘Thanks, I’ll check her out. Tom is free, so I can line him up to film an interview if she agrees to one. I told Jamie everything Marta described about where they buried Topov and he thinks he knows the spot. There’s a mushroom-shaped rock formation over the river crossing and that seemed to pinpoint it for him.’

‘Excellent. You said you plan to stay with Jamie McIntosh’s family?’ He raised an eyebrow.

‘Saving the company money,’ said Veronica shortly. ‘Besides, Doris is part of the story.’

The house at Darling Point was as Colin had described it, grandly brooding, the sandstone walls smothered in dark ivy and, Veronica thought, probably looked little changed since Olga and Topov gathered together the hopeful investors in their plan to film the Australian outback. The house seemed locked and the shutters were closed, the French glass doors were sealed and the blinds drawn. She went up the flight of stone steps to the heavy front door and rang the bell.

Eventually, as she was about to turn away, Veronica heard the doorknob rattle and the door swung open. A tall, plump woman with braided graying hair wound around her head, porcelain skin with red cheeks and pale eyes stared at her.

‘Miss Konstantinova? I’m Veronica Anderson. From Network Eleven. This is Tom, my cameraman.’

‘Yes. We spoke on the phone yesterday. Please come in.’ She stepped to one side. Veronica followed her inside and was immediately hit by a slightly musty and dusty smell of age, a faint trail of faded flowers.

Valma Konstantinova was heavyset but carried herself well, her shoulders back, and had an air of superiority about her. She had clearly been an attractive woman.

‘I’m afraid I’ve just arrived home, so I haven’t had time to prepare any biscuits or cake.’

‘Please, nothing for me, I’m fine. We’ll try not to take up much time.’

‘We can sit in here. I’m not sure I’m going to be very helpful, I really know very little.’ She led them into a glassed-in conservatory that looked out onto the rear garden.

‘This is a magnificent garden,’ said Tom. ‘A lot to look after.’ His unasked question about the house hung in the air.

‘I do what I can. I have some help,’ said Valma. ‘Now, make yourselves comfortable.’ She sat in one of the old armchairs and folded her hands in her lap.

Veronica took her notebook and small tape recorder from her handbag. Tom unhooked his digital video camera from his shoulder and gave Veronica a questioning look.

‘Miss Konstantinova, may we film our little chat? I think I explained what we’re doing on the phone . . .’

‘As you wish. I’m sorry I can’t tell you very much. My sister and I were away at school in France at that time. We didn’t come back here very often, we had only the occasional holiday in Sydney.’

‘So when did you come back here to live?’

‘After my mother died. My sister, Sacha, married an Australian, so I decided to join her here and I took over this house.’ Valma had a faint accent, almost American.

‘Your parents were Russians who escaped the Revolution?’

‘Yes. They lived in China for many years and my father made a lot of money there. My mother was very outgoing and rather flamboyant.’ Valma gave a small smile. ‘My father was rather taciturn. From what I understand Mr Topov was also . . . colourful.’

‘Do you know anything about Maxim Topov even though you never met him?’ Veronica glanced at Tom and saw him zoom in on Valma’s face.

‘No. I have seen photos of him. I believe that my mother was helpful to him because he was Russian, too.’

‘Was it a relationship based on a special friendship or was it just a business arrangement?’ asked Veronica tactfully.

Valma shrugged and smiled. ‘Who is to say? Maybe both of those things. While I don’t wish to paint my mother in an unfavourable light, I believe she was fond of Maxim. She could be quite volatile but I believe that she was very distressed when he died. She said that she thought he was a great filmmaker. I suppose that’s why she funded him.’

‘Do you think he might have been?’

‘I don’t know. Mama seemed to have faith in him. I suppose that’s why she kept his personal things, which the police sent to her after he died.’

‘Where are Topov’s belongings now?’ asked Veronica, barely drawing breath.

‘Still in the attic where my mother put them. But I don’t think there’s anything of any value,’ said Valma.

‘Could we see them?’ asked Veronica.

‘I suppose so. But I will have to ask my sister first. It may take some time to unearth them. My mother had a lot of things up there. She never threw anything away.’

‘That would be very, very helpful,’ said Veronica.

‘It might take a few days, but I’ll see what I can find,’ said Valma.

‘Thank you so much. You also mentioned photographs of Topov. Where are they?’

‘Oh, they’re around. Have you seen pictures of him?’ asked Valma.

‘Only one, which I got from the internet.’

Valma continued. ‘I think there are a few around the place, I’d be happy to show you. He does look quite a character. I can see why he might have appealed to my mother. You know, beret, beard, long scarves, a polka dot silk cravat. He was theatrical looking. Like Mama. My father was more the business type.’

‘Miss Konstantinova, I can’t thank you enough,’ said Veronica trying not to appear as excited as she felt. ‘You’ve brought a shadowy person to life for us.’

‘I doubt Maxim was ever called shadowy.’ She smiled. ‘And please, call me Valma. I think, however, that it was a terrible thing that he was eaten by some awful creature.’

Veronica paused. ‘There may be some doubt about that now. We believe that the circumstances of his death were not quite what your mother was led to believe. It appears that it was easier at the time to bury him and to say that he was killed by a crocodile than to face a police inquiry.’

Valma stared at her. ‘Why would anyone do that? I’m so glad my mother isn’t alive to hear this. It was bad enough his dying . . . Who were the people that lied?’

‘Some of them are still alive. I’m trying to piece the story together, which is why I’m anxious to see if there is anything in Topov’s possessions that could give us a clue.’

Valma shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t imagine so. But then neither my sister nor I have gone through them.’

‘I’m going back to the Northern Territory to try and find out more. Perhaps when I come back you might have had a chance to find Topov’s things?’ said Veronica. ‘And I can fill you in, hopefully, on anything I learn.’

‘That’s kind of you. I’ll talk to my sister and I’ll make a foray to the attic. It’s a job that has been in the back of my mind. We are not getting any younger and all this is quite a . . . museum.’ She waved her arm around the living room which Veronica assumed hadn’t altered since
Olga lived there. The faded brocade curtains looked very dusty and old and the furniture was already unfashionable fifty years ago.

Veronica stood up and Tom turned off the camera and took off his earphones. ‘Could we take some shots of the garden? It’s quite magnificent. As is the view.’

‘You used to be able to see much more of the water,’ said Valma. ‘But the trees are taller and there are more new homes. Sydney is very crowded now. Please walk around the garden. I’m afraid it’s not as immaculate as when my mother kept it. Gardeners are expensive these days.’

While Tom got the exterior shots of the house, Veronica sat in the car excitedly relaying the news of Topov’s belongings to Andy.

‘Did she say what sort of possessions? We don’t want old boots and a Russian hat,’ he said. ‘The photos would be good, though.’

‘Yes. It could be interesting,’ said Veronica. ‘I really don’t know what there is. We’ll just have to wait and see.’

The heat and brightness hit Veronica the minute she stepped from the plane. Sydney had been dull and cool when she left and now she felt her spirits lifting. But she was unprepared for how excited and moved she was at the sight of Jamie and Billy waiting for her.

‘This is so good of you!’ exclaimed Veronica as Jamie kissed her cheek and Billy jumped up and down.

‘We’re going on a picnic and lots of things! Are you staying a long time, Veronica?’

‘She’s here to work, Billy. Now come on, let’s get going. Is this all you’ve got? The one small bag?’

Veronica nodded. ‘I want to go back to that nice shop with the camping gear. I love their clothes for this climate. So, Billy, tell me what you’ve been up to.’ She took his
hand as he hopped beside her as they headed to Jamie’s car.

With Billy chattering excitedly about school, his art project and his soccer team, Jamie and Veronica barely had a chance to exchange a word before they arrived at Doris and Alistair’s home.

Jamie took her bag from the car and Billy raced inside to find his grandmother while Alistair greeted her warmly. ‘Welcome back, dear girl. Doris is so looking forward to having you stay. She’ll chew your ear off, so remind her that you have to work or just go to your room and close the door.’

‘I’m looking forward to chatting with her,’ laughed Veronica.

Doris embraced her warmly. ‘Cup of tea and a biscuit? Or do you have something to do right away?’

‘Cup of tea would be wonderful. I have to touch base with the station and my cameraman to make plans but I’ll need to talk to Jamie first.’

‘I thought we might talk over dinner tonight, if you’d like,’ said Jamie. ‘Billy has a sleepover at a mate’s place down the road.’

After their cup of tea, Jamie and Billy left and Alistair retreated to his study, so Veronica filled Doris in on what had happened to Topov.

‘It is quite a remarkable story. Odd, though. The personal dynamics are most interesting,’ said Doris.

‘There must have been a lot of suspicion among the group over which of them had punched Topov and been responsible for his death. But they made a pact about a fictitious crocodile attack and stuck to it.’

‘You must remember the times too, Veronica. They were in a remote area and communication and travel in that country in 1955 were difficult. And I can believe that they didn’t want to get held up with a lot of red tape. I’m
not condoning what they did, but I’m putting myself in their position,’ said Doris. ‘Now, tell me about Marta. What’s she like?’

‘She’s beautiful, looks younger than she is and seems to have had a life of luxury once she married Paolo, who is charming in that Italian aristocratic kind of way . . .’

‘I don’t know many Italian aristocrats,’ said Doris and Veronica smiled.

‘As a young woman she was so independent and such a talented actress but once she had security and a life of glamour and indulgence, it seems to me her ambition evaporated. I don’t know what she’s done with her life, but she obviously enjoys it.’

‘Did she remember me?’ asked Doris.

‘Of course she did! She asked me to send you her warmest wishes. She was very touched when I told her you’d kept her bracelet.’

‘So she told you about what really happened to Topov. I suppose she had no reason not to tell you,’ mused Doris.

‘She was a bit surprised when I told her I was going to try and find his remains,’ said Veronica. ‘At first she said we should leave the past alone, but then she agreed that since I’d gone this far with the story I should try to resolve it. She gave me as many details as she could about where they’d buried Topov and Jamie seems to think he can find the spot.’

‘He’s very happy to see you back here again. And not just for professional reasons. He’s rather fond of you, I think.’ Doris gave her a penetrating look.

‘As I am of him,’ admitted Veronica.

‘I saw that possibility,’ said Doris gently. ‘Naturally I want my son to be happy, he’s had a lot of heartbreak and he’s retreated inside himself, emotionally.’

‘You’re saying you don’t want to see him hurt again,’ said Veronica.

‘I’m talking to you, woman to woman. I want you to
be aware of the fact that Jamie is committed to living up here. Not just because of his job, but because of his obligations to his family and ties to his country here.’

‘And a city girl like me doesn’t fit?’ asked Veronica, the full implication of Doris’s words sinking in.

‘I’m not saying that at all. I’m asking you to consider that, should you fall in love with my son, perhaps your life with him could be very different from your current life.’

‘I understand, Doris. And thank you.’

Veronica thought about what Doris had said. She did not take it as a mother protecting her son but saw Doris as an older, wiser woman alerting a younger woman to the pitfalls of a complicated relationship. And she had done it in such a way as to make Veronica feel that she cared about her as much as she did her son. She was evenhanded and not judgmental.