Pretty young Constable Greevy from Bellington has been bringing him cups of hot tea and comforting words. Her name is Sarah, it transpires. To help distract him, she flicks on the television mounted on the wall next to the counter. There’s a game show on. Martin can’t follow it; the rules seem too complex, there are too many flashing lights, too many glaring teeth. Nevertheless he’s transfixed by the screen, even as his mind drifts away, sifting again and again through the events of the day.
It’s snapped back abruptly to the here and now by Doug Thunkleton’s matinee-idol face, mellifluous voice and earnest tone. The game show has finished and the news has begun. Martin hadn’t noticed the transition. Thunkleton is standing outside Bellington police station. Martin catches the end of his introductory blurb: ‘…in dramatic scenes outside the magistrate’s hearing here in Bellington.’ The screen wipes to Thunkleton’s package, starting with Mandy entering the building that morning, the camera jostling for position, the voiceover urgent: ‘She’s been dubbed the suicide blonde. Mandalay Blonde—charged with perverting the course of justice, now a prime suspect in the murders of German backpackers Heidi Schmeikle and Anna Brün.’ The voiceover stops; the camera continues to fight for position as Robbie Haus-Jones tries to clear a way through the media pack. Thunkleton is leaning over Mandy’s shoulder, thrusting a microphone the size of a turkey drumstick, painted in the garish livery of Channel Ten, under her nose while he bellows in her ear: ‘What do you have to say to Herb Walker’s widow?’ The story doesn’t wait for her response, instead cutting to a still photograph of her, captured as she stares into the camera lens.
Thunkleton’s voiceover resumes. ‘Mandalay Susan Blonde is formally charged with perverting the course of justice, accused of destroying evidence linking homicidal priest Byron Swift with the abduction and murders of the innocent backpackers.’ There’s a slow, almost imperceptible zoom into the photograph, into her eyes; there the viewer can see whatever they wish to see: confusion, or guilt, or madness, or whatever else Thunkleton’s voiceover might suggest.
The story cuts back to the reporter, standing beside the Murray River. ‘Channel Ten can now exclusively reveal that Blonde is being linked to another death—that of respected Bellington police sergeant Herb Walker.’ On the screen now is a middle-aged woman, grey hair tinged with blue, identified by an onscreen title bar as Belinda Walker—Hero’s Widow. ‘He always said she was trouble—that no good would come of her.’ Another cut, this time to a new voice of authority, D’Arcy Defoe, as self-confident and smooth as ever: ‘She is the femme fatale of this story. I can’t reveal too much as yet, but suffice to say Mandalay Blonde lies at the very epicentre of police inquiries.’ Cut now to the scene of Mandy and Martin leaving the Riversend police station arm in arm, pushing through the media scrum. ‘It’s suggested that Mandalay Blonde has also been manipulating this man, disgraced former journalist Martin Scarsden, the same way she once manipulated homicidal priest Byron Swift.’ The story finishes with a close-up of Mandy, played in slow motion, as the voice signs off, redolent with gravitas: ‘In Riversend, this is Doug Thunkleton, Ten News.’
Martin hears wild laughter echoing from further inside the police station, but there’s more. The glamorous newsreader is back on screen. The image behind her is of drug paraphernalia stamped with the words ICE EPIDEMIC. She turns to camera, frowning: ‘The drug plague sweeping rural Australia shortly, but first we understand there has been a major breakthrough in the backpacker murders. We cross live to our reporter Doug Thunkleton in the Riverina with the latest news.’
Thunkleton appears, hair perfect as always, but his tie is askew and his face is shiny and flushed. His voice is deep and rich, but his diction is ever so slightly slurred. ‘Thanks, Megan. Yes, Ten News can confirm that police believe—our sources confirm there has been a major breakthrough. We believe an arrest is imminent. However, for legal reasons, we cannot at this point reveal the identity of the accused. But we do understand it is not, I repeat not, Mandalay Blonde. Her role in the affair is still to be explained. Just repeating, there has been a major breakthrough in the Riversend backpacker murders, with police expected to make at least one arrest in the near future.’
Megan is looking serious and professional, but there is a hint of poison in her follow-up question. ‘Thanks, Doug. And how does that fit with allegations against the woman you’ve branded the suicide blonde?’
Thunkleton shifts balance from one leg to the other. Perhaps it’s the lag on the satellite, but for a moment he looks like he’s been frozen by a roo shooter’s spotlight. His comeback is good, though. ‘Megan, I think it’s safe to say that as the details of this case, this extraordinary case, come to light, we’ll be able to see how these and other factors are all inextricerr…how they are all interlinked. As Fairfax reporter D’Arcy Defoe said earlier, Mandalay Blonde is at the very epicentre of these events.’
The newsreader nods, lips pursed. ‘Doug Thunkleton in the Riverina, thanks for bringing us up to date.’
There is more laughter from inside the police station, then Robbie Haus-Jones emerges, smiling broadly. He looks up at the television. ‘Did you see that idiot?’
Martin nods.
‘Use the phone on the counter if you like. Ring that ex-colleague of yours in Sydney. Bethanie what’s-her-face. She can report the facts for once.’
‘What about the magistrate’s orders? I’m not meant to be reporting, remember.’
‘I wouldn’t worry too much about him. He’s been pulled over for drink-driving in Corowa. We’ve thrown him in the can. Here.’ Robbie holds out a piece of folded paper.
‘What’s this?’
‘Your bank cheque. For God’s sake, don’t lose it.’
Martin rings Bethanie from the phone behind the counter. She answers with a barked hello, clearly under the pump.
‘Bethanie, it’s Martin.’
‘Martin? Where are you?’
‘Riversend.’
‘Good. Do you know what the fuck is going on? The ABC are promoting a big breakthrough to be revealed on their seven o’clock news. The commercials seem to be clueless. Terri Preswell is screaming her tits off at me but my contacts aren’t answering. Defoe claims he’s across it, but won’t tell me what it is and now he’s not answering his phone.’
Slowly, methodically, Martin sets out the facts: that it was Jamie Landers and his mate Allen Newkirk who killed the backpackers, that Landers has confessed and is in detention. He’s not denying anything. Martin tells her that Mandy Blonde is in the clear, to ignore the commercial television reports, that the young mother nearly lost her child in horrifying circumstances, almost murdered by Landers.
Bethanie is all ears, only interposing questions for clarification, respecting Martin’s ability to order the facts. Only at the end does she seek advice on how to frame the story.
‘Martin, I should give you a by-line. What do you think?’
‘No. You’ll only antagonise management. Don’t refer to me at all, or call me a reliable source if you need to, but no names. And do yourself a favour: file before seven so people know it’s all your work—but after Defoe sees the ABC and files, share the by-line with him. You’ll want to keep him onside in future; don’t humiliate him.’
There’s a pause on the other end of the phone. ‘Martin, that sucks.’
‘Tell me about it. Now get moving, it’s already six-thirty.’
‘Absolutely. And, Martin, thanks.’