Fishing for Stars by Bryce Courtenay Read Free Book Online Page B

says tentatively.
    ‘Saffron, it was quite wrong of me not to tell you the name of this hospital. I apologise without reserve.’
    If it’s not an effusive apology, Saffron has probably never seen Marg Hamilton contrite and I’d have to go back a fair way, too. I expect Saffron to accept gracefully, pretty eyes averted. No such thing. ‘That’s all right, Great Auntie Marg. No problems. I found out for myself,’ she says without rancour, cool as a cucumber, eyes fixed directly on Marg. The kid, like her mother, has plenty of fire. Then she remembers the newspaper and holds it out to me, crying, ‘You didn’t tell me you were a war hero, Uncle Nick!’
    ‘Gawd! Spare me! What now?’ I accept the newspaper with my good hand, then, turning to Marg, ask suspiciously, ‘You have anything to do with this?’
    Unusually, she doesn’t look at me directly. ‘All accidents are reported to the police,’ she allows obliquely, ‘that’s how the reporters get onto these things.’
    ‘That doesn’t answer my question. It’s almost a column on the front page!’
    Marg sniffs, then in a haughty voice says, ‘Well, ten days ago, Nick, you were complaining on the phone that you’d been forgotten. I simply mentioned it to a friend.’
    ‘I wasn’t bloody complaining!’ I tap the paper. ‘This friend, he wouldn’t be the editor of this scurrilous rag, would he?’
    Marg Hamilton looks up, her chin thrust forward. ‘Well, at our fundraising dinner at Taronga Zoo last night I was sitting next to Guy Cooper, telling him about your offer to sponsor the frog-breeding program and he must have overheard. He’s also one of our directors . . . and well . . . it just slipped out about the accident. It was an upsetting day, and what with you lying here in hospital close to death . . . ’
    Saffron’s eyes dart from one of us to the other, taking it all in. She is receiving a gratis lesson in female manipulation from Marg bloody Hamilton.
    Billionaire Butterfly Collector & War Hero in Traffic Accident
    Sydney: Mr Nicholas Duncan, DSC, was injured in a traffic accident yesterday while crossing Macquarie St. Mr Duncan, 69, sustained a broken leg and multiple lacerations and is recovering in hospital.
    As Lieutenant Nick Duncan, RANVR, he served first with the Australian Naval Intelligence Services in New Guinea during the Second World War. Later he served as a radio intelligence operator with the American marines at Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands. There he was awarded the Navy Cross for valour by the Americans after the famous Battle of Bloody Ridge in 1943.
    Recovering from malaria and battle fatigue, Duncan received the Distinguised Service Cross from General MacArthur.
    Bloody Ridge was the first major American land offensive against the Japanese and, together with the battles at Midway and the Australian victories at Milne Bay and Kokoda, it is credited with turning the tide against the Japanese in the Pacific War.
    Widely reported to be a billionaire, Mr Duncan lives in Vanuatu, a popular tax haven for the very rich. He has shipping and transport interests in several Pacific nations.
    Perhaps surprisingly, Mr Duncan possesses the world’s finest and most valuable collection of butterflies from the Pacific region.
    Mr Duncan was intimately involved with the international financier, Ms Anna Til, until her recent death. Ms Til was also known as Madam Butterfly, the name of an infamous house of bondage she established in the 1950s in Spring Street, Melbourne.
    I slam the paper down and glare at Marg. ‘I don’t imagine you’ve read this arrant crap?’ I snort angrily.
    ‘No, well yes, but I don’t usually read the Telegraph ,’ she protests. ‘Don’t be angry, Nick. I mentioned your philanthropy and the fact that you’ve bequeathed your butterfly collection to the National Museum but they chose to ignore it. There will be harsh words to the editor, I promise. Although I don’t think at heart he’s a