Andrea's Secret

by John Kelly

That same afternoon, eighteen hundred kilometres to the north, Brad Murphy was doing some soul searching of his own. After a brief chat on the phone with Elizabeth Ashford, and struggling to cope with the complexity of what he knew, he invited his wife Jenny, to join him as he went walking along the beach with Fixem and Mixem. As the Pacific Ocean roared out its thunderous anthem, and the waves came crashing in, the two strolled hand in hand, separating only to hurl the tennis balls into the water and watch the two dogs charge in to retrieve them. Piece by piece, Brad carefully reconstructed the events as they had unfolded and explained all that he had learned to Jenny. His detailed description of all that Rosie Fitzgibbon had revealed, and the glaring anomaly that existed between that information, and Warwick Steedman's advice, was all too evident to Jenny. When he had finished, they had walked the full length of the beach and now turned for the return journey.

  "What do you think I should do?' he asked Jenny. "You have no option darling. You have to speak to Warwick. You have to be honest with yourself and discuss the whole issue with him. If he's up to no good, you have a responsibility to expose it, but first give him the opportunity to explain," she said. "How do I do this?" he asked. "Do I phone him, do I go down to Melbourne and talk in private?" he asked. "I think it's too sensitive an issue to discuss over the phone. I think you need to speak to him face to face," she answered. "Perhaps we could go down together. I'd like to do a bit of shopping, maybe go to a show," she added. Brad liked the idea. He had three days before his next taping. He could fit in a trip to Melbourne and not upset the programming schedule. "Damn it!" he said impulsively. "Let's go tomorrow morning. It'll be a nice weekend away, and I won't have to carry this burden any longer," he said.

  Late into Friday evening, in the dimly lit offices of Frank Martin Solicitor, three people sat stunned as they sat around Frank's large oak desk. Each in turn, read the various documents, papers, correspondence and hand written notes in silence. Over the weeks, months, and years that he had been planning, and playing out his deception, Frank had dutifully filed everything. As each new piece of paper was handed one to the other, around the desk, each of the three read and absorbed the extent to which matters had progressed. There were the hand written notes of conversations with Andrea that went back twelve years. There were letters from Andrea asking Frank to help her find Mary Therese. There was information Frank had put together about the Steedman family. All of them! There were details of Andrea's assets, along with dossiers on Warwick, and his business activities. Frank had diarised conversations with Andrea, revealing information about Elsie. There were some hand written notes on Margaret, and Robert. The documents revealed details of contact with James and Irene Campbell, Rosie Fitzgibbon, Julie Macleod. Frank had been the architect of a master plan. There was a special section in a plain A4 envelope indicting Michelle. She gasped as she read it, and passed it on to Gerard. Her only consolation was that it vindicated all she had told him on the train. She picked up a foolscap sheet headed, 'Things to do.' There, halfway down the list, she was horrified to read, 'Get rid of Bilby. Warn him off.'

  "What did he do to Douglas?" she cried out in agony. "What did he say to him?" Henry was in a state of shock, but Gerard assured him everything was under control. The Trust Account was in order. There was no need to report anything amiss. The matter had to be handled very delicately, but at least for the moment, it could all remain confidential. It was Henry who tried to summarize it all.

  "So, as I understand it," Henry began, "Frank befriended Andrea years ago at University. She must have confided in him that she had given birth to a baby girl, who she allowed to be adopted. The adoption was a scam. Andrea later asked Frank, who was now a qualified solicitor and barrister, to help her find her daughter. She gave him all the information she had, and he tracked down the adoptive parents, through the agency. Then he arranged a visit when the daughter was only ten, but the daughter wasn't to know who Andrea was. How am I going so far?" he asked. "Yes, keep going," Gerard replied. Henry took a deep breath. "Then Andrea, presumably, was content to let matters stay as they were, for the benefit of the child," he added. Gerard nodded. "That's the way it seems to me," Gerard said.

  "So then we come to about eighteen months ago, when Andrea was diagnosed with breast cancer. When she realized that she was dying, she asked Frank to contact the daughter again. Andrea wanted to see her and establish some kind of contact, friendship, bond, whatever. All perfectly understandable under the circumstances," Henry said. Both Gerard and Michelle nodded in agreement as they followed Henry's account. "She also wanted to leave her some money too, and this, it seems, is where Frank decided to intervene. He had Michelle here in the office. He was struck somewhat, with the uncanny resemblance of the two women, and thought that he could substitute Michelle as the long lost daughter. While he was trying to figure out how to bring Michelle into the plan, fate played him an incredibly generous hand when he discovered that she had been a bit naughty with the Trust account. So he forced Michelle to go along with the plan, under threat of her going to jail if she didn't co-operate. Frank's thinking after that is, that when Andrea dies, Michelle collects the money, hands it over to Frank, gets paid her twenty thousand, and nobody knows any different. It's almost brilliant," Henry said, as the whole scenario unfolded in his mind. Gerard and Michelle sat in silence, believing, but not wanting to believe.

  Henry got up and walked around the room. "So Gerard, now you have to decide what you want to do about it," Henry continued. "The reality is that your son is a crook. We can stop him in his tracks. Thanks to Michelle's honesty, we can prevent this scam from happening, but do you want him exposed? We can hush this up if you want to. Neither Michelle nor I want to see you suffer any more, so you have nothing to fear from us. Frank doesn't have to be reported to the police, but it's really up to you. What do you want to do?" Gerard had no idea what to do. "I have to find Frank," he said.

  Gerard Martin wasn't the only one to feel the sharp edge of an unwelcome surprise that day. Late that same evening, Julian arrived home after cooking dinner for Maria, to find a note. It was sitting on the front hall table, marked, 'Julian'. Underneath, the writing, there was a little squiggle, a dainty, artistic little addendum, designed to add that delicate touch to the overall presentation. The house was in darkness when Julian let himself in. At first he thought that Annette had already retired to bed. He checked. She was not in bed. He called out, "I'm home." There was no answer. Then he noticed the note. 'Perhaps she's with the prayer group people,' he thought. The note however told a different story.

  Dear Julian,

  I have gone to spend a few days at Margaret's house. We are both still in shock from what happened to Pastor Doug and need each other desperately at this time. There is some dinner for you in the refrigerator. You need to heat it in the microwave. Tomorrow you had better go to the supermarket and buy whatever you want. I have taken Foofo with me. She needs me too. I will be in touch, Annette.

  P.S. I've taken the portable television set. You don't need it anyway.

  Julian placed the note back on the hall table, and went into the bedroom. It was so quiet and peaceful. He took off his jacket, and hung it up in the walk-in robe. As he did so, he noticed that the entire right hand side, the side Annette used, the side where she kept all her dresses, slacks, tops, blouses, and tracksuits, was empty. He cast his eyes to the floor and he noticed that the space where Annette stored all he shoes, the joggers, the high heels, the slip-ons, the slippers, the scuffs was also empty. Somewhat confused that going to spend a few days with Margaret would require so much clothing, he decided to check her dressing table drawers. Empty! Tired and hungry, he went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. There was a plate of beef slices covered in gravy, with peas, potato and carrots wrapped in cling wrap. He took the plate out of the refrigerator, removed the cling wrap, and placed it in the microwave. On the bench he noticed an unopened letter addressed to him. Annette usually opened his mail, something he did not
mind. He never had anything to hide from her, so it never bothered him that she usually opened his mail. This letter, however, she had not opened. When he opened the letter he was surprised to see that it was not for him. The letter was from Warwick Steedman and was addressed to Myra Applewood. It contained an apology for the recent misunderstanding concerning an incorrectly served summons, and assured her the summons had been withdrawn. It also offered her thirty days free gas and power. Julian immediately checked the envelope. It was addressed to him. 'How on earth did I receive a letter addressed to me that was written to Myra?' he thought. Looking at the clock, he decided that it was too late in the evening to be calling Myra. 'I'll call her in the morning,' he thought. 'At least I can give her some good news.'

  36.