Chapter 7: The pecking order of men's clothing

'Yes. But they didn't give him Russell Montgomery. He could have done it blindfolded. He went for your job too and Liz told me he would have got it if you hadn't applied.' Elisabeth made mental note of it. As well as the young girl's opinion and loyalties. Abruptly Judy changed tack. 'His family had money but while Murph was at uni they lost it all. His father was conned out of it, Liz says. He had a heart attack and died and his mother had a stroke from shock. She had to go into a nursing home. Robert's younger brother was still in high school, so Murph had to quit uni and get a job.'

Elisabeth was feeding the sparrow, dropping crumbs at its feet. 'And?'

'Well, his mother died and he went back to uni. He studied part time and kept working to support himself and his brother. He's a musician.'

Elisabeth looked up from the bird. 'Robert?'

Judy shook her head. 'His brother. Dean. He's got his own band and goes all over the country. Murph says he's still keeping him.' She laughed. 'He writes songs.'

'I guess it'd be handy, if you're in the industry.'

'Murph,' Judy said, hair swishing around her cheeks.

'How do you know?'

Judy had the grace to look abashed. 'He told me.'

'Robert?'

'Dean,' Judy said. 'He plays at the ANU bar when he's in town. Last time I got to talk to him and tell him I worked with his brother. He asked me how I liked the songs and said Murph had written them.'

'Did you like them?'

'Yes.'

Interested in spite of herself Elisabeth asked, 'What were they like?'

Judy cradled her soft drink bottle and turned her eyes up to the umbrella, recalling. 'Soft rock mostly. You know, about love, bad luck, life generally I guess.'

'Has Murph, Robert, said anything to you?'

'About what? Writing?'

'His brother must have told him he'd met you.'

'He hasn't said anything.'

Elisabeth checked her watch, a recently-acquired habit she hated. 'I've got to get back.' She stood. 'Thanks for the company.' Judy scrambled to get up. 'You haven't finished.' The girl stopped, half in, half out of her chair. 'I'll see you back at the office,' Elisabeth said spreading her hand wide on the top of her hat and swinging it to her head in one fluid movement. 'Bye.'

Judy watched Elisabeth's easy departing strides, feeling the lack of much that contributed to beauty.

She returned to find Elisabeth tidying the papers on her desk. 'Can I do anything,' she said, stopping to ask.

'Is Robert around?'

Judy leaned back and craned her neck. 'No. Shall I tell him you want to see him?'

'Please, if I don't see him first.' Elisabeth was pondering some notes she had made when Robert came to stand, hands in pockets, in her doorway.

'You wanted to see me.'

She stopped reading. 'Can we go over things now?'

He dipped his head sideways and his shoulder shrugged up. The gesture displayed indifference. 'Sure.' He remained framed by the wood.

'Have a seat.'

Robert took a spare and crossed a well-clad calf across one knee. Elisabeth, who knew the pecking order of men's clothing, recognised the cut: down the scale as far as cost went but quality nonetheless. He linked his fingers in his lap and waited. They were long, the nails well shaped and maintained. She wondered if he played any instruments as well as composing for them. She thought you probably couldn't do the latter without being able to do the former. She stopped looking at his hands and went to his face. He was watching with bland politeness. She got straight into it.

'We have a 19 year old jackaroo, Russell Montgomery, who in September last year was travelling east from a West Australian cattle station, Redland Downs, where he had spent three years working. He had decided three years were enough - or so we've been told by its manager who says Russell quit. His travelling companion was another jackaroo, Gregory Waite, 20, from the same property, who had also decided to chuck it in. They weren't close friends but had always got on together, according to Waite and others on the station. Sharing costs appealed to them both, says Waite.'

Robert was listening.

'They arrived in Adelaide where Russell had friends he wanted to visit. According to Waite he made three calls, but was unsuccessful in contacting them.' She paused. 'It was on this day, their first in Adelaide, that they met Lisa Moody at one of the suburban beaches. Again according to Waite she approached them. Lisa, 17, remained with them that night and the next day. She told them she had left home and didn't have anywhere of her own. When she asked if she could accompany them to Sydney they said yes. She showed a preference for Waite's company.' Elisabeth stopped briefly when Robert took a long deep breath and leaned back, shifting his hands to clasp them behind his neck.

'Russell again unsuccessfully tried to contact his friends after which they left Adelaide and took the scenic coast road to Melbourne where they spent another two days looking around. Then, instead of Sydney they decided to detour to the national capital because none of them had been here. Russell said his sister wasn't expecting him so it didn't make any difference when he got to Sydney. They arrived and booked into the Southside caravan park for the night. The next day they spent sightseeing.' She picked up a pencil and began to repeatedly upend it on her desk. 'Sometime before 9 pm on the night of 17 September, before heading off to Sydney, they stopped to buy food and drinks at a suburban supermarket in Narrabundah. Waite and Moody remained in the car.' She broke off. 'Why not go in and choose what they wanted for themselves?'

'They wanted to make out.'

'Russell's presence hadn't apparently stopped them before. And Russell was driving. They had the whole trip to spend in the back seat.'

Robert swapped ankles. 'Ask them.'

'I will.' She went back to her notes having avoided eye contact for all but one short moment. 'Russell went into the shop. He wasn't away long, five, ten minutes at most.'

'What?' Robert asked when she fell silent.