‘One of them looked like you,’ Press said.
‘I thought you weren’t here.’
‘Judy told me about them. One was a thin, tall guy with a broken nose, hard-looking, like you.’
‘Thanks. Anything else?’
They looked at each other the way people do when trying to recall a conversation. Who sat where, who said what? ‘I don’t think so,’ Judy Syme said. ‘Oh, of course, he was a New Zealander.’
‘Who?’
‘The one that looked like you.’
I wrote ‘NZ’ beside ‘looks like self. ‘What about the other one?’
‘Fatter,’ Judy said. ‘And fairer, less hair except he had a moustache. They wore suits. They looked like police but they weren’t.’
‘How do you know?”
‘I’m a nurse, I’ve met a lot of police. I know.’
‘I see. Well, what did Carmel say about this? Where was she?’
‘She was working the day they came the first time. I told her that night and she took off. Packed a few things and took off. She didn’t come back. The same two came back later, like I say.’ She took a big drink of her wine and dragged on the cigarette. ‘And the next day I read in the paper that she was dead.’
‘Did these heavies ask you where she was?’
‘Yeah. I wouldn’t tell them.’
‘Did they threaten you?’
She nodded. ‘They hit me, but I wouldn’t tell them. Fuck them, I thought.’
Press drained his can and looked admiringly at her. I took a drink and privately toasted her courage myself, ‘Did Drew ask you where she’d gone?’
‘He might have. I forget. I didn’t tell him anyway. I got the feeling that he didn’t care. What you say about the pornography explains it. What a laugh!’
‘Will you tell me? I don’t think she was involved in pornography either.’
‘Sure I’ll tell you. She was with Jan De Vries. He’s a lecturer at the Film amp; Television School. They were working on something together.’
‘What?’
‘I don’t know. Something that took all her time and energy. Something very important to her. We shared here for nearly two years. I was around when she was finishing Bermagui, but I never…’
‘Sorry. Finishing what?’
‘Bermagui, her first movie. You haven’t seen it?’
‘No.’
‘It’s brilliant.’
‘Brilliant,’ Press said.
Judy stood and got rid of her cigarette in the same way as before. ‘This one would have been brilliant too. For sure. Christ, she worked at it. And now she wrapped her arms round her upper body and swayed. Press jumped up and took hold of her. She let him hug her. ‘I miss her. She was terrific. So intense. She never wasted a single minute. Not like the rest of us, drinking and everything. She could work for three days and nights straight. Does that sound like a porno freak to you?’
I shook my head. I was the only one sitting down but her anger was so strong that I felt she should have the stage, have the space to say what she wanted to say. ‘No,’ I said quietly. ‘I’m sure you’re right about that. Her father feels the same way.’
She detached herself from Press and turned to look out the window. ‘As fathers go he seems to be all right. Carmel loved him.’
‘Did she love anyone else?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
I looked at my notebook. ‘Jan De Vries?’
She grinned. ‘Wife and two kids. She fucked him but I don’t think she’d let a wife and two kids screw up her work.’
I pulled my legs up and got slowly to my feet. ‘Thanks.’
‘For the wine?’
I emptied the glass and put it on the ledge beside the dead butt dish. ‘Come on, Judy. You don’t have to be tough. You’ve lost your friend. I’ve lost a few in my time. It hurts.’
‘So what does her father want? Revenge?’
‘Partly, it’s natural.’
‘Right,’ Michael Press said.
I told her about Leo Wise’s wish to understand his daughter’s death. To see it as an accident. I mentioned the possibility of another child.
‘Oh, great!’ she said.
‘You don’t understand. He’s older than you, older than me. My grandmothers had about nine or ten kids each. Maybe five or six of them survived. Your great-grandmothers probably did the same. They expected some wastage. My father was the last in the bunch. Your grandfather might’ve been in the same spot. You mightn’t be here if they hadn’t operated that way back then. It was healthy in a way. Don’t knock it.’
She went very still and looked at me. ‘I never thought of it like that.’
‘Can I have a look at her room, please?’
‘Sure.’ She walked over and opened the door nearest the window. I went into a big room with plenty of light. Better view of the racecourse from here. The room held the usual things-double bed, chest of drawers, built-in wardrobe, bookcase. A big TV set and a VCR were on a trolley at the foot of the bed. A door led to an en suite bathroom. I glanced around but rooms give off an aura like people; I sensed that there was nothing to be learned here.
Judy Syme stood in the doorway smoking again. ‘Go ahead. Look through her undies.’
‘I don’t think so.’ I ran my eye along the bookshelf. Mostly titles to do with films, a few novels, a few left- wing political works. There was a cassette on top of the TV set and I picked it up. ‘Bermagui’ was hand-printed on a label stuck to the plastic case. ‘Can I borrow this? Her film?’
She shrugged. ‘Sure. I’d like it back. She gave it to me. It probably sounds sloppy but I was watching it in here the other day.’
‘I understand. Did she ever keep cassettes here?’
‘Oh, sure. She had them all here at first. But they just got to be too many. They were everywhere so she asked her father if she could use that flat in the Cross.’
‘Did you ever go there?’
‘Once. Creepy joint. This crazy old woman came to borrow sugar. Sugar!’
‘What old woman?’
‘From the flats across the courtyard. Weird old girl with purple hair. Carmel gave her some sugar.’
‘Hmm. Where did she do her work? I mean editing and all that?’
‘Various places. Studios. The equipment isn’t exactly stuff you have around the house. Jan De Vries would know.’
We went back into the other room. Michael Press was flexing his muscles in front of his reflection in a window. He didn’t seem to mind us catching him. I shook Judy Syme’s hand and gave her one of my cards.
‘Thanks for your help. Please call me if you can think of anything that might be useful.’
She held on to my hand a little longer than was necessary, as if I formed some sort of connection with her friend. ‘Okay,’ she said.
I turned just before I opened the door. ‘You don’t have any clues on what those men wanted, do you? Or on why she was killed?’
‘I haven’t the faintest idea.’
