‘Would you have to go back to Essex Downs?’
‘Oh, no. Patrick is buying a house in Brisbane in the safe electorate they’re giving him. I’ll be expected to live there until after the general election. Really, politics are such a sham.’
‘What’s going to happen to Essex Downs?’
‘Elliot and his family are moving there. He says it’s all become too much trying to run two places and Victoria’s always complained about Yallambee being too remote.’
‘What will happen to Yallambee?'
‘Patrick said they’ll probably sell it.’
*
Emma and Laura dined together at the Bellevue that evening and talked at length. Emma told Laura of her decision to sell Sydney Styles and of the family wanting to return to the bush. And she spoke of their trip to England, of the encouraging results at Dr Pettering’s surgery, and of the surprising revelations of the family’s heritage Erin Potts had discovered in the cellars of the Mary Wells Society in London. But nothing Emma said could jolt Laura out of the brooding guilt she felt over Bruce’s incarceration.
Later, Emma revealed that during the long train journey from Sydney she had thought of a way to help Bruce. And that, in light of what Laura had told her that afternoon, she had also thought of a way they could combine forces for their common good. Then Laura’s mood did change for the better.
By the end of the evening Emma and Laura had worked out a plan of action.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Emma ate breakfast early. By eight o’clock, she was walking in the filtered sunshine of the Botanic Gardens, deep in thought. At nine o’clock, she was the first to enter the office of the State Registrar of Births, Marriages and Deaths and later in the morning she visited the Land Titles Office.
Well satisfied with her morning’s work Emma returned to the Bellevue Hotel in time for a late lunch. Afterwards she told the hotel manager she would be away for a few days and arranged for any mail or messages to be held for her until she returned. Then she packed, took a taxi to the railway station and boarded the afternoon train to Toowoomba.
*
The narrow dirt road to Goombungee was parched and dry. As the chauffeur-driven Buick approached Hope Farm it left a swirling cloud of dust hanging in the still morning air. A shiver ran through Emma when the car pulled up at the entrance to the farm.
Nothing had changed since she and the twins had arrived there from Essex Downs six years earlier: the same iron gate, the same rows of milk churns on the wooden platform, and the same rough winding trail leading into the property. It was as if time had stood still.
But on this visit, Emma was determined that the Brothers of the Apostles would be left in no doubt whatsoever that her circumstances had changed. She deliberately wore an expensive, stylish suit and accessories which she had bought in London. And the manager of the Grande Hotel where she had spent the night assured her that the car, was the finest hire vehicle Toowoomba had to offer.
When the big black saloon neared the residence at Hope Farm, two Brothers of the Apostles, standing talking at the main entrance hurried into the building. Even before the car had come to a complete stop, they reappeared with a beaming Brother Benjamin to greet what appeared to be a very important visitor. But when Emma stepped out of the car Brother Benjamin’s smiling face slowly furrowed into a frown.
‘Good morning, Brother Benjamin. I’m Emma McKenna. Do you remember me?’
‘I certainly do,’ Brother Benjamin said solemnly. ‘What is it you want here?’
‘I wish to speak to you about my brother, Bruce.’
‘I believe that matter is before the courts, Miss McKenna. I have no wish to discuss it. Now, please leave this property immediately.’
‘I shall not leave until I have spoken with you.’ Emma glanced briefly at the two Brothers and her driver. ‘And in private.’
‘I have nothing to say to you, Miss McKenna. And if you don’t leave immediately, I will be obliged to send someone for the police.’
‘That won’t be necessary, Brother Benjamin. If you refuse to talk with me, I’ll be going directly to the police myself with evidence of serious child abuse here at Hope Farm.’
Emma saw Brother Benjamin’s pious face flinch and knew she had struck a chord. He glanced momentarily at the chauffeur and at the two Brothers beside him, then forced a tight smile and said, ‘Very well, Miss McKenna, if you will follow me please.’
Emma followed Brother Benjamin into the residence, across the great hall and down the corridor to his private office without a word passing between them. When the office door was firmly closed, Brother Benjamin could barely contain his anger.
‘How dare you invade the peace and quiet of this place, young lady, and attempt to embarrass me with innuendo. And as for your brother, the law must take its course—an eye for an eye. Brother Lucas was a good man.’
‘Brother Lucas was a manic, authoritarian tyrant.’ Emma replied icily. ‘He was a cruel, sadistic homosexual who used his position of trust to physically and mentally abuse disadvantaged young boys.’
Brother Benjamin’s face reddened with outrage. ‘That’s preposterous! Now you listen here…’
‘No, it is you who will listen, Brother Benjamin.’
Brother Benjamin’s eyes widened in surprise at the controlled fury in Emma’s voice. He fell silent and instinctively retreated behind his desk.
‘My brother is rotting in Boggo Road Jail,’ Emma continued, ‘because of something he didn’t do and…’
‘Something he didn’t do?’ There was a hint of sarcasm in Brother Benjamin’s voice. ‘Then I suppose it must have been the big lad, Strickland, who was responsible. All you need is for him to come forward and admit his guilt and your brother will go free. Unfortunately, I understand the lout is still at large.’
‘Unfortunately for you Brother Benjamin, Strickland would have a lot more than his escape to talk about if he chose to come forward,’ Emma said quickly. ‘He would say he found my brother Jack’s body floating in the lake and that he helped bury him here at Hope Farm. And he would say that you and Brother Lucas told him to be quiet about it because it was better for Bruce and the other boys to think Jack had run away.’
Brother Benjamin shrugged off the accusation.
‘Don’t try to threaten me, Miss McKenna. You may recall the last time you were in this office soon after your brothers ran away, I told you Strickland was a chronic liar and if he were ever apprehended he would concoct all sorts of outrageous lies. Your brother may have swallowed such claptrap but I assure you that the authorities will not.’
‘I am well aware that people like Strickland are powerless against organized religious orders,’ Emma said, ‘but the authorities would listen to him if he took them to Jack’s grave.’
‘Even if this ridiculous story were true,’ Brother Benjamin snapped, ‘Why would Strickland turn himself in to tell it? He’d just be arrested and sent to trial like your brother. Why would he risk that?’
‘Because he is Bruce’s friend and he is prepared to come forward.’.
For the first time there was a trace of concern on Brother Benjamin’s face.
‘Do you know where Strickland is?’
‘I do.’
‘Then, why hasn’t he already come forward with his accusations, Miss McKenna?’
‘Oh, he will if he has to. But I thought I would give you the opportunity to come to a compromise with me first.’
‘What kind of compromise?’ Brother Benjamin asked warily.
‘The evidence against Bruce is circumstantial at best,’ Emma replied. ‘And it all happened so long ago. If you were to tell the police you have doubts about his guilt and as a caring Godly man, you and the Brothers will not testify against him, it’s quite probable the charge would be dropped. I thought I would give you the opportunity to do that.’
‘Why on earth would I agree to such a thing?’
‘Because if you don’t, Strickland will tell t
he authorities that you told him the police and the doctor had been to Hope Farm to view Jack’s body and that they had given permission for the burial to take place. And I would be obliged to tell them that no such record of Jack’s death has been lodged at the Queensland Registrar of Births, Marriages and Deaths as required by law.’
‘Which only proves Jack must be alive and well somewhere,’ Brother Benjamin said triumphantly. ‘Really, Miss McKenna, there is nothing more to discuss. You have defeated your own argument. I really must ask you to leave.’
Emma heart sank at Brother Benjamin’s refusal to be drawn. Perhaps she no longer held a trump card. Perhaps the Brothers of the Apostles had reburied Jack’s body after Bruce and Strickland escaped. She knew she had just once chance. If he was bluffing, she had to raise the stakes.
‘Very well, Brother Benjamin, I’ll go. But I’ll be back very soon with the police and Strickland. And don’t think the digging will end with Jack’s grave. We know other boys have gone missing after being sent down what you call, the hole. Once Jack’s body is found, I’m sure the digging will go on for a very long time.’
As Emma turned to leave, she noticed Brother Benjamin’s pious face had lost some of its complacency. At the office door she turned around and played her last card.
‘If I walk out this door Brother Benjamin, it’s not only Jack you’re going to have to explain to the authorities. I’ll see to it you pay heavily for the years of abuse at Hope Farm. I’m not the destitute young girl who came here six years ago. I’m a successful businesswoman, not some poor battler whose complaints can be burnt or buried by the church’s hierarchy. I’ll fight you with every means at my disposal and for as long as it takes. And I’ll petition the government and bring in the newspapers. Oh, and I can just see the field day Senator Coltrane’s political opponents would have in the press with his part in all this.’
Emma swung the door open and stepped outside. She had tried her best and played it to the hilt. She couldn’t say or do anything more. If Brother Benjamin were to back down it would be now or never.
‘Miss McKenna,’ Brother Benjamin called out before she took another step. ‘No one is going to benefit from mudslinging. Perhaps it might be better for us to try and resolve this matter.’
Emma went back into the room and closed the door behind her.
‘You understand,’ Brother Benjamin cautioned, ‘that any relaxation in the Brothers of the Apostles’ position would in no way be an admission of any wrongdoing on our part. It would simply be a compassionate Christian act, taken in good faith for the good of all concerned. If you’re not prepared to accept that, then things must remain as exactly as they are.’
‘I want only Bruce’s release and to take Jack’s body from this place. There is an old friend of my father’s in Goondiwindi who would do that discreetly.’
‘Very well. But I will need your undertaking that you will never attempt to embarrass this institution ever again or take any legal action of an kind against us.’
‘Which you will receive just as soon as Bruce is released,’ Emma said curtly, without allowing a trace of the relief and elation she felt to show on her face. ‘But I must warn you that I will not be bound by that undertaking if there is any occurrence of abuse at Hope Farm in future.’
*
Emma arrived back in Toowoomba with time on her hands. She asked her driver to stop at the Sundowner Hotel, opposite the railway station, intending to thank the publican for helping Bruce on his first escape from Hope Farm. But the driver told her the old pub had been a victim of the Depression.
Back at the Grand Hotel, Emma dismissed the driver for the day with instructions to call for her again the next morning at 8.00 am sharp. Then she ate a light lunch and booked a telephone call to Sydney Styles with the hotel operator. When the call came through, Neale the Nib told Emma he had received a formal expression of interest from David Jones regarding the purchase of Sydney Styles and that they had asked to view the firm’s financial statements as soon as possible.
Emma authorized Neale to furnish David Jones with whatever statements he considered necessary. And she told him that should David Jones wish to go ahead with the purchase, to send all documentation to Dan Rankin who would be acting for Sydney Styles in the matter. Then she asked him to contact Wilkins at the Imperial Bank and tell him that a sale was in the wind and she might be needing a substantial bridging loan for another matter.
*
Next morning the black Buick covered the hundred and twenty miles to Roma in less than three hours. When the car pulled up in the driveway in front of Royston Silver’s house, the little king-maker himself emerged from the elegant country home to greet its sole passenger. When Emma stepped from the car, immaculate and self-assured, Silver couldn’t hide his surprise that Patrick Coltrane’s niece had arrived in such style.
‘What a pleasure it is to meet you, Miss McKenna.’ Silver shook Emma’s hand gently. ‘I was so pleased to receive Mrs Coltrane’s telegram saying you were coming. ‘I’m sure we can arrive at satisfactory arrangements all around.’
Silver led the way through the house to his private study. The walls were lined with bookshelves and large framed photographs of prominent politicians and businessmen. He showed Emma to a seat across from his own at a large mahogany desk.
‘I do hope you don’t mind me acting as a go-between in this matter, Mr Silver, ‘Emma said. ‘Under the circumstances, my aunt felt any kind of direct contact with her husband would be too distressing.’
‘I understand completely, Miss McKenna,’ Silver said. ‘I know there have been bitter differences between Mr and Mrs Coltrane and I realize that fault rarely lies just on one side. Consequently, this kind of situation is always handled best by intermediaries.’ He smiled and settled down into his chair. ‘Who knows, if we are able to bring Mr and Mrs Coltrane together for even a short time it may even lead to permanent reconciliation.’
Emma returned the smile but made no comment. Royston Silver was charming. His manner was more that of a caring parish priest than a hard-nosed power-broker and Emma wondered when the hard bargaining would begin.
There was a soft tap on the study door and a young Aboriginal girl in a black and white domestic’s uniform pushed a tea trolley into the room. She poured two cups of tea, added milk and sugar as required, then smiled politely and left the room.
Martin Silver came straight to the point.
‘Miss McKenna, the point of having Senator Coltrane elected to the House of Representatives is to make him eligible as a prime ministerial candidate if and when the opportunity arises. The urban federal seat we have selected for him is considered a "safe seat", but in reality there is no such thing in politics. And of course, once he has relinquished his senate seat, as required by law when running for the lower house, there will be no turning back. You do understand that, don’t you, Miss McKenna?’
‘Oh yes, I do, Mr Silver, and so does my aunt.’
For a moment Silver eyed Emma warily. ‘Yes, well… because of that we intend to launch an aggressive publicity campaign and hold many political rallies throughout the electorate. The campaign will bring him under intense public scrutiny, from the newspapers and radio commentators, to say nothing of the opposition muckrakers.’ Silver paused and took a sip of tea. ‘Now, I have convinced the senator that the manner in which he has handled some matters in his private life could well come back to haunt him at the polls. Consequently, he is prepared to offer a permanent financial provision for Mrs Coltrane, in return for her support throughout the campaign. That support would include maintaining the outward appearance of a normal marriage at all times, by attending political rallies and functions as required with her husband, and refraining from voicing any view or opinions which may not be in his best interests.’
‘Are you saying that my uncle cannot win without the support of his wife?’ Emma asked.
‘Not at all. We will win. But as an old campaigner, I know his election would go more s
moothly with her assistance than without it.’ The little man leaned back in his chair. ‘Do not try and read more into all this than there is, Miss McKenna. Perhaps I should warn you it would be a mistake to overestimate the importance I place on Mrs Coltrane’s cooperation.’
Emma knew the time had come for the hard bargaining.
‘What kind of financial arrangement did Mr Coltrane have in mind?’
‘A monthly annuity, enough to ensure her basic personal needs are always met.’
‘In what amount?’
‘The senator had around thirty pounds a month in mind, paid annually in advance.’
‘That’s little more than a shop assistant’s wage, Mr Silver. Small reward for thirty years service as a doormat.’
Silver’s eyebrows rose. ‘May I remind you that Mrs Coltrane left the security she enjoyed at Essex Downs of her own free will? Under the circumstances, I think it is a fair settlement considering the alternative is nothing at all.’
Emma looked Silver directly in the eye. ‘Perhaps I should warn you that it would be a mistake to overestimate the importance Mrs Coltrane places on receiving the senator’s support. She is not forced to accept what few crumbs Patrick Coltrane decides to throw from his table. I am ready, willing and very able to support her.’
‘I’m aware of the circumstances under which you and your family left Yallambee, Miss McKenna. It seems you have done very well for yourself since then, and I commend you for it. But surely you wouldn’t want to take on such a long term financial obligation.’ Silver rubbed his jaw. ‘What amount do you think Mrs Coltrane would accept?’
‘A hundred pounds a month, paid annually in advance and documented in a binding legal document.’
Martin Silver frowned. ‘I think that figure is well beyond the amount the senator is prepared to pay. But I’ll talk with him and do the best I can.’
‘And there’s one more thing, Mr Silver. I understand my cousin Elliot and your daughter are moving onto Essex Downs shortly and that Yallambee is to be sold. I went to the Land Titles Office recently and a search showed that my uncle still stands in the register as owner of that property. I wish to buy it back. My family and Mrs Coltrane intend to return there to live.’
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