The Lost Sapphire (21 page)

Mrs Darling and Sally fussed over Frank, strapping him up and feeding him a hearty meal. Violet left them to it and crept up the back servants' stairs. At the top, she opened the door and peeked through to make sure the way was clear, then she crept into the bathroom to wash and change.

When she was respectable again, Violet ran down the main stairs and went through to the kitchen to see if Nikolai had returned. Mrs Darling shook her head. ‘He was expected back by now, but he hasn't arrived yet. I hope he's not much later or Mr Saunders will be very unhappy with him.'

‘Could you please let me know when Nikolai gets back?' Violet asked, trying to sound calm. ‘I just need to check something with him urgently.'

Hawthorn, modern day

In the morning, Marli woke to find that Dad had gone to work. Under the muesli packet on the kitchen bench was a note:

Marli felt her anger at her father well up again – even after their argument nothing had changed. She picked up the note, crumpled it into a ball and threw it at the garbage bin. It missed and rolled on the floor.

She had to get out.

Marli grabbed the peacock hatbox, the camera and backpack, and cycled as fast as she could to Riversleigh. This time she went in through the double blue door,
through the garage and into the service courtyard. She unlocked the back door, then went through the kitchen and its green baize door, into the front of the house and up the stairs.

It felt eerie being in the empty house by herself, without Luca to give her courage.

Using the large iron key, she unlocked the door to the tower and went inside. Somehow she felt calmer in the small forgotten tower room, with its relics of a bygone age.

Using a wad of tissues from her bag, she dusted off the desk and began laying out all the items from the hatbox – the scrapbook, the Kodak Brownie camera, the key and various loose photographs.

Marli sat at the desk and closed her eyes, fiddling with the engraved silver bangle on her wrist. She thought about everything that had been going on in her life for the last few weeks. Her anger with her mother for going away without her, and now with her father for working so much. Her fascination with the Hamilton family and their secrets. Her friendship with Luca and his family. The discovery of Riversleigh and her determination to ensure that it wasn't destroyed. Learning about her great-grandmother Violet and life in the 1920s.

Didi had said that Violet had been disinherited by her father, and Nonno had said that Violet's mother had died of grief, leaving her daughters behind. Despite her own dramas with her parents, she couldn't imagine having her family torn apart by war and grief.

Marli thought about her mother and realised that she had always put Marli first. The realisation made her feel
warm and happy, but also guilty.
I've been punishing Mum for not getting my own way
.

Marli pulled out her phone and hit her mum's number. The phone rang for a few moments before she answered, sounding groggy but panicked. ‘Hello, Marli? Is everything all right? Has something happened?'

Marli suddenly realised that it was ten o'clock in the morning in Melbourne, which meant it was eleven o'clock at night in Cambridge. ‘Oh, Mum. I'm so sorry to wake you. Yes, everything's all right. I just wanted to talk to you.'

‘Are you okay, darling? You sound upset.'

‘Yeah, well, it's Dad. He's working all the time. He's hardly ever home.'

There was silence for a moment on the other end of the line. ‘That's not like Alex,' Mum said. ‘He was so excited about you coming down. He said he'd planned lots of fun things to do with you. I would never have sent you to Melbourne if I'd thought he'd neglect you.'

Mum sounded upset, and it made Marli feel even more guilty. Things weren't as bad as Marli had made them sound.

‘He's had some dramas at work,' Marli explained. ‘He seems super stressed.'

‘I'll ring Aunty Julia now and organise for you to go there until I sort something out,' Mum decided. ‘I can get you on a plane this afternoon, right after I speak with your father. Julia can meet you at the airport in Brisbane.'

Marli thought about the offer.
Do I really want to leave Melbourne? Do I want to leave Didi and Dad and Luca? What will happen to Riversleigh if I leave?
She remembered
Didi talking about Violet: ‘She would always fight for what she believed in.'

‘Thanks, Mum,' replied Marli, ‘but I'll be okay. I don't want to leave Melbourne just yet. I just need to talk to Dad. And I've been having fun most of the time.'

‘Are you sure?' Mum asked. ‘I don't like to think of you being on your own all the time.'

‘I haven't been alone all the time,' Marli admitted. ‘I've been hanging out with a nice boy called Luca, who lives nearby, watching movies, exploring the area, doing stuff. He has a big Italian family, and they've had me for dinner a couple of times. And I've been visiting Didi, which has been lovely. Dad and I are going out tonight, so I'm fine, really.'

Mum sighed. ‘Well, if you're sure. But if you change your mind, let me know and I'll have it all organised in a jiffy.'

‘Thanks, Mum. Thanks for everything.'

Marli could almost feel Mum's smile down the line. ‘I love you, darling.'

‘Love you, Mum.'

‘You know, Marli, your dad loves you very much too. He would never want to do anything to upset you.'

Marli felt her pent-up emotion release. ‘I know.'

‘And I'm so glad you're enjoying Melbourne.' Mum paused. ‘I was waiting to see how you found it before I mentioned an idea to you. We've been offered an opportunity that could mean moving down there.'

‘Moving? What do you mean?' Marli asked.

‘I've been offered a huge promotion, but I turned it down. It was as a senior lecturer at Melbourne University, starting next year.'

‘Wow,' Marli exclaimed. A multitude of emotions raced through her brain – pride in her mum, anxiety about the possibility of change, curiosity. ‘That's great, but why did you turn it down?'

‘I didn't think you'd want to leave your friends, your school, your life in Brisbane. And when I arranged for you to visit Alex, you made such fuss. I realised I was right, so I turned the job down. But they rang me again today with an even better offer. They've given me a few days to decide. So I thought I'd give you the chance to think about it too, and we can make the decision together.'

They chatted for a few minutes about Mum's research and her lectures at Cambridge, then they said goodbye. Marli felt relieved. She was glad she wasn't arguing with her mum any more. And the thought of moving to Melbourne wasn't as terrifying as it might have been a few weeks ago.

Marli began to think about Riversleigh as she flipped through the scrapbook, examining the photographs and invitations. How could she convince Dad that Riversleigh should be saved and restored, not knocked over for soulless flats?

When she reached the back of the scrapbook, there was a pocket on the inside of the black leather cover. It bulged. Something was hidden in there. Marli slipped her fingers inside the flap and drew it out.

Marli spent the rest of the day with Luca. They played soccer on the freshly mown back lawn and had a picnic
lunch on the back terrace. At about five o'clock, a text message pinged on her phone. It was from Dad.

Marli quickly texted a reply: Coming

‘Gotta go,' Marli said to Luca. ‘See you tomorrow.'

She cycled back to Dad's apartment in Richmond, parked the bike in the garage and caught the lift upstairs.

Dad was sitting at the kitchen bench, looking exhausted. But as soon as Marli walked in his face brightened and he sat up. ‘How was your day, myshka?'

Marli told him about playing soccer with Luca and having a picnic, but she didn't mention where. She looked at Dad and noticed that the tense lines around his face had softened while he listened to her stories.

‘How about your day, Dad?' Marli asked. ‘Looks like it might have been tough.'

Dad looked surprised for a moment and then sighed. ‘I didn't want to bother you with it, myshka, but it's been a horror.'

‘Tell me about it. I'd like to know.'

‘There was an accident at the building site today,' Dad began. ‘One of our workers was seriously injured, and it should never have happened. The proper safety regulations weren't being observed.'

Dad gathered his thoughts, before continuing. ‘Because the project costs have blown out and we've had to cut costs, our suppliers have switched to poorer quality
materials – not the ones I originally specified – and the contractors have been forced to take shortcuts.

‘I have spoken to my boss, Tony, several times about my concerns, but he refuses to listen. I was worried something like this would happen. Now a man with three young children is seriously hurt – it's a miracle he wasn't killed. I watched him fall and couldn't do anything to stop it.'

Dad shook his head, as though trying to clear the image of the accident from his mind. ‘I had a huge argument with Tony today, and he gave me my marching orders.'

‘Marching orders?' Marli asked, feeling anxious.

Dad stroked her cheek to reassure her. ‘The company has been cutting costs for a few months; several people have been retrenched. Now I'm the latest one.'

Marli felt sick. She had been so angry and horrible to Dad, and the whole time he was trying to save her from worrying about his problems.

‘I'm so sorry, Dad,' Marli said. ‘You should have told me things were so serious.'

‘I didn't want to spoil your holiday. But I realise I've ruined it anyway – your mum rang me today and was furious that I've been neglecting you. I really wanted to spend lots of time with you, but Tony insisted that everyone work extra-long hours to get the project done. Anyone who didn't would lose their job.'

‘That's awful,' said Marli. ‘So you've been working six or seven days a week for months, and now you've lost your job anyway?'

Dad shrugged. ‘I'll get paid a lump sum of money, but it will be hard to get another job in the construction industry now. So many companies are finding it tough.' He gave
Marli a hug. ‘That's why I think we should build apartments at Riversleigh. It would be a way to make money. I could use my payout to fund the building and borrow the balance from the bank, using the land as security. It would be the perfect solution to all our problems.'

Marli felt her heart sink. The future of Riversleigh was looking grimmer than ever.

Riversleigh, Saturday, 9 December 1922

Violet walked through into the morning room where Imogen was stretched out on the chaise longue, reading a book. She glanced up as Violet walked in.

‘How was your day?' Imogen asked, putting her book aside. Violet noticed that her sister was still wearing Theodore's pearl ring and shivered. Imogen looked concerned. ‘Is everything quite all right? You look very pale.'

Violet nodded. ‘I just have a little headache, that's all. I went for a walk to try to clear it.'

Romeo was lying in the sun, but he came over to Violet and pushed his nose into her hand. He licked her fingers to comfort her.

Mr Hamilton popped his head around the door. ‘Here you are. I've just heard the most dreadful news from Mr Ramsay.'

Imogen sat up. ‘What was it?'

Violet stayed silent. She had a terrible feeling she knew what her father was going to say.

‘He telephoned to say there's been a riot down at his tannery,' Mr Hamilton explained, wandering into the room. ‘The workers went on strike this morning and set fire to the factory. The firefighters are still trying to subdue the flames, but they've lost over two thousand hides. The damage is already estimated to be more than thirty thousand pounds.'

‘How dreadful for the Ramsays,' Imogen replied. ‘But won't it be insured?'

Mr Hamilton shook his head. ‘The insurance won't go anywhere near covering the damage, but the police are investigating. Theodore says they've arrested a Russian Bolshevik. They're questioning him now.'

Violet's mouth went dry and she felt as though she might be sick.
A Russian has been arrested. Could it possibly be Nikolai?

‘What would a Russian be doing setting fire to the tannery?' Imogen asked.

‘The young foreigner was sneaking around the factory, where he had no reason to be, inciting violence,' Mr Hamilton continued. ‘You know that Bolshevik Zuzenko, who was deported a few weeks ago? Apparently he had been encouraging workers to revolt against their bosses and burn down their places of employment. The police say Zuzenko left a ring of Bolshevik spies behind, and it seems they've finally arrested one.'

There couldn't have been any other Russians near the tannery,
Violet thought.
It must be Nikolai. They think he's a spy.

‘Why would the strikers do such a thing?' asked Imogen. ‘Surely Ramsay's staff will be worse off if they can't work at all? It doesn't make any sense.'

‘Revolutionaries don't necessarily have much sense,' Mr Hamilton retorted. ‘But fortunately they've caught this one. Zuzenko had to be deported due to lack of evidence, but after burning down the tannery, this Russian fellow will rot in prison for the rest of his days.'

Violet swayed. This couldn't he happening.

‘Are you sure you're all right, Violet?' Imogen asked again. ‘You don't look very well.'

‘I have a bad migraine,' Violet croaked. ‘I'll get a powder from Mrs Darling.'

Her head was spinning with all the information. She needed to find out if it was Nikolai who'd been arrested. If she told her father, he would know that she'd disobeyed his orders by going into the slums. He'd be absolutely furious – and if it wasn't Nikolai, she'd be in trouble for nothing. Maybe it actually was a Bolshevik spy who'd instigated the riot. The newspapers were always full of stories about the Bolshevik threat. Nikolai was probably home with his family, drinking tea, and he'd laugh at Violet's concern that he'd been arrested.

Violet had just convinced herself that she'd let her imagination run away with her when the doorbell rang. Saunders went to answer it. There was a low murmur of voices.

Saunders came to the morning room door. ‘Excuse me, sir, but there's a Senior Sergeant Brooks and a Constable Lawson here to see you. They are investigating a fire in Richmond today and believe you may be able to help them with their inquiries about a person of interest.'

Mr Hamilton huffed as he rose to his feet. ‘As if I know anything about the fire at Ramsay's!'

‘Shall I send them away, sir?' asked Saunders. ‘Only they do seem very insistent.'

‘Very well,' Mr Hamilton said. ‘Show them into the library. I'll come at once.' He turned to the girls. ‘Don't worry yourselves about this arson attack. The police will sort it out very quickly.'

‘Poor Theodore,' Imogen said. ‘What a terrible business.'

‘Is he all right?' Violet asked her father. ‘Was he hurt?'

‘Theodore was there when it happened. He was set on by some of the workers and beaten, his car vandalised, but the police arrived just in time.'

Violet shuddered at the memory. ‘That's a relief. I'll just go and get that headache powder.'

‘Do you want me to ring for Mrs Darling?' Imogen asked as Violet stumbled to the door.

Violet shook her head. ‘I'll just go to my room and lie down for a while.'

But Violet didn't go to her room. She took the key to the locked tower room and went inside, fastening the door behind her. She sat on the floor with her head on her knees. Somehow she felt closer to her mother in the tower, in the rooms that had been her very own.

‘What should I do, Mamma?' Violet cried. ‘Why did you leave us when we still need you?'

Violet took a deep breath to steady herself. There was no response from her mother, so she'd have to figure it out for herself. Why had the police come to question her father? The only possible reason could be that they had
interrogated Nikolai and he had told them he was a chauffeur employed at Riversleigh.

But would the police believe Nikolai, that he wasn't a Bolshevik? How could she prove his innocence?

Violet could almost sense her mother's presence. Her mother had always said she must stand up for what she believed in. That she must do the right thing, no matter what the consequences. And the right thing to do was stand up for her friend. But how? Would her word be enough?

Suddenly she remembered the roll of film she had taken at the riot – the photos of the smartly dressed push lads who had handed out fence palings as weapons and thrown the bottle bombs. Surely that might be evidence.

Violet jumped to her feet and raced back into her bedroom. The roll of film had been in the pocket of the skirt – now soiled and crushed – that she had flung onto the chair in her bedroom. But her skirt and shirt were gone. Sally must have been tidying up. Violet checked her wardrobe and chest of drawers, but the clothes weren't there. Sally must have taken them to the laundry.

Violet ran down the servants' stairs to the laundry, taking the narrow steps two at a time.

‘Sally!' she called urgently. ‘Sally, where's my skirt?'

Sally stuck her head around the kitchen door. ‘It's being washed, miss. Lizzy is boiling up all the darks.'

The film will be ruined if it is boiled
, Violet thought. She bolted past the scullery to the laundry. A young maid was standing at the copper kettle filled with scalding water, sleeves rolled to the elbows, her face flushed from the steam. The maid was stirring clothes with a long stick.

‘Lizzy?' asked Violet with a sinking heart. ‘Have you washed my skirt yet?'

‘Yes, miss.' She used her stick to fish out the navy blue skirt. ‘Shouldn't I have? Only Sally said it was very dirty and she thought you might need to wear it tomorrow.'

Violet thought she was going to cry. ‘No, that's all right, Lizzy. You did the right thing. It's just that I left something precious in the pocket.'

Lizzy looked worried. ‘I always check the pockets of everythin', miss, like Mrs Darling taught me, but I didn't find nothin' precious, only a film.' Lizzy gestured with her elbow towards the windowsill. ‘I put it up there.'

Violet nearly wept, this time with relief. ‘Oh, thank you, Lizzy. That's exactly what I was looking for. You've been a marvellous help.' Violet snatched the film and went through the kitchen towards the front of the house. She paused outside the library. Inside, she could hear low voices.

‘You know what these foreign wogs are like,' said one of the policemen. ‘Slippery as mud – can't believe a word he says. But we'll pin it on him.'

‘So what do you know about this Khakovsky character?' asked the other. ‘How long have you employed him as a chauffeur?'

‘Not long at all, I'm afraid,' Mr Hamilton replied. ‘He's only been here a few weeks. I would never have employed him if I'd known he was a Bolshevik. He just seemed a decent young chap who was hard on his luck. And he had excellent references from his last employer, Countess Orlova in Paris.'

‘The letter was probably forged,' the policeman suggested. ‘He'd be operating under an alias. The local
communists seem highly organised and are committed to sparking a revolution here in Australia.'

‘I hope word of this doesn't get out,' Mr Hamilton said. ‘The last thing I need is a scandal about us harbouring a Bolshevik spy.'

Violet took a deep breath, finding her courage and holding it tightly. She knocked on the door and ventured inside the library. Her father was sitting at his desk; the two policemen in navy blue uniforms were sitting opposite, their black leather caps on their laps.

‘Dad?' said Violet.

‘Not now,' her father replied. ‘I'm rather busy with the police right now. There's been an unfortunate allegation about our chauffeur, Khakovsky. Looks like he was a bad egg.'

‘That's why I'm here, Dad. Nikolai isn't a Bolshevik at all. He wasn't involved in setting fire to Ramsay's tannery, but I know who was.'

Mr Hamilton looked puzzled and turned to the policemen. ‘Sorry, you must excuse my daughter Violet. She is rather soft-hearted when it comes to our servants. Violet, this doesn't concern you and you couldn't possibly know anything about Khakovsky or the fire.'

‘But you see, Dad, I do,' Violet pleaded. ‘I know because I was there at Ramsay's when the fire started.'

‘That's impossible,' Mr Hamilton blustered, his face flushed with anger. ‘What on earth do you mean?'

Violet turned to the policemen. ‘Nikolai isn't a Bolshevik. He's a White Russian, an anti-communist. Actually, he's Count Nikolai Petrovich Khakovsky. And his mother is Countess Khakovska. His family escaped
from the revolution after his father was murdered by Bolsheviks.'

The constable was writing copious notes. Senior Sergeant Brooks turned to Violet, his face impassive. ‘This is all very romantic, but it doesn't explain what Khakovsky was doing participating in a strike by the workers of one of your father's associates. The only possible explanation is that he was there to cause trouble. We have questioned the young man and he refuses to give a satisfactory explanation other than that he was just passing by on his half day off. Which is highly unlikely.'

Violet shook her head. ‘He wasn't just passing by.'

‘See?' her father replied. ‘It's all a bit fishy to me.'

‘The truth is that Nikolai was there because he was worried about me,' Violet said in a small voice. ‘I went to Richmond to take photographs of the slums. I wrote an article for a newspaper, and the editor said he would publish it if I could send him some more photographs of slum life to illustrate the story.'

‘You went to the slums with Khakovsky, and he let you get caught up in a
riot
?' Mr Hamilton thundered. ‘Then he's fired without a reference. He should be flogged.'

‘No, Dad,' said Violet. ‘I went there by myself. Nikolai just happened to be on a tram going home to visit his family, who live in Richmond. He saw me walking across Hawthorn Bridge and thought I wouldn't be safe.'

Mr Hamilton glared at her. ‘Of course you weren't safe.'

Violet ploughed on. ‘So he jumped off the tram at the next stop and came looking for me. By the time he found me, the crowd had turned nasty and I was swept up in the riot. Nikolai came in to help get me out, even though
he must have been terrified. He's seen violent riots in St Petersburg – riots where people were murdered.'

The constable kept scribbling down notes.

Senior Sergeant Brooks looked sceptical. ‘You claim he followed you down to the tannery? That he wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for you?'

‘Yes, exactly,' Violet replied. ‘He may have even saved my life. We couldn't get out of the crowd. Nikolai came in and dragged us out.'

‘We?' asked the policeman. ‘I thought you went on your own?'

‘I did,' Violet said, ‘but I met Frank Burke there. He's the thirteen-year-old brother of our maid Sally. He works for Ramsay's tannery and was there with the strikers. Frank saw what happened – you can ask him. He's sleeping in the men's quarters. He was badly hurt in the riot and may have broken some ribs, but he'll support my story.'

‘He's just a kid.' The policeman waved his notebook dismissively. ‘Mr Theodore Ramsay said that the violence was initiated by a group of troublemakers who weren't workers at the tannery. He said the Russian Khakovsky was one of them, and Mr Ramsay is determined to press charges against him.'

Violet felt a wave of fury rise up in her chest. ‘Theodore Ramsay couldn't have seen Nikolai do anything, because I saw Theodore get pulled down into the crowd before Nikolai even arrived. But I did see two larrikins from the Richmond Push throw jars of petrol at the tannery then flick a match.'

‘How do you know they were from the Richmond Push?' Senior Sergeant Brooks interrupted.

‘Frank told me – and I took some photographs.' Violet held out her fist and opened it, revealing the film cartridge on her palm.

‘You took photographs of the arsonists?' Mr Hamilton demanded. ‘If they'd seen you, they might have killed you.'

Violet decided she wouldn't tell her father that she had indeed been caught by one of the gang members. He'd had enough of a shock for one day.