Now came the story of Amanda and again Anne led them through the diary account, corroborated by evidence from her parents. The professor, who voluntarily attended the inquest of his own accord, provided details of their past relationship. Parts of the Amanda story were corroborated by Susan’s tape transcript, which was played alongside. Of the mine shaft holding her body the police again indicated the potential area was so vast they did not know where to begin to search, in a similar way to the burial sight of Elin. They speculated that both could be in the same region.

  At last they came to Cathy. Her presence in Adelaide was confirmed by her parents from her letter and by the backpacker hostel. Her presence in Wilpaena Pound and Coober Pedy was confirmed by witnesses who agreed with the diary account. But then there was nothing further, other than an enigmatic poem to explain her vanishing or her absence.

  The coroner sought Anne’s opinion about her likely fate. Anne asked to speak to the coroner and counsel in private, with only Alan present. Anne took them through the abuse allegations about her uncle from the diary, as described by Mark.

  Anne asked that these not be disclosed as she thought it remained most likely that Cathy had vanished to escape from her uncle and, if she was alive, she clearly did not want these allegations publicly aired causing her parents further distress. Alan advised that the police had passed these allegations on to Scotland Yard for their own investigation. He considered public disclosure at this stage would be prejudicial to this investigation.

  So the coroner agree to withhold this evidence from public release and Anne was glad, it was a small service she could do to this girl, she was as much a victim as the others, even if still alive.

  So that was that, the story of the diary and the best information they knew about the fate of five girls.

  The coroner then turned to the disappearance of Susan, establishing the sequence of events beginning with her release from jail, then of the days she spent with Vic at Alan’s flat and the final day at the hospital, with her departure captured on a hospital lobby camera just after eight o’clock in the evening. The there was a final likely sighting of her taking a lift south at Berrimah. They explained the role which the media articles appeared to have played in her disappearance that night, then of the discovery of the sandals she had been wearing near the billabong. They told of the fruitless search since, the public appeal for information and the various unlikely sightings which had been made since. This was a story in which Anne had little role, mainly told by Vic and Alan who were both visibly distressed in the telling.

  After two weeks of evidence and innumerable witnesses the coroner retired to consider the facts and write his findings. A month later the court resumed for the coroner’s verdict. He called the court to order and began to read. Anne scribbled his spoken findings down on a legal notepad, not trusting her mind to keep track without this written record.

  I find that Elin Nordquist met her death by misadventure resulting from the collapse of an abandoned mine shaft in an unknown location in South Western Queensland. I find Vincent Bassingham had no direct role in her death but may have had an indirect role though encouraging Ms Nordquist to assist him in the excavation of a dangerous mine shaft.

  I find that Isabelle Rollande met her death by being shot in the head by Mr Vincent Basssingham. While there are extenuating circumstances such death constitutes murder under the Northern Territory and Western Australian Criminal Codes. However as Mr Bassingham is also deceased no further action for this event can be taken

  I find that Amanda Parker met her death by a blow delivered by Mr Bassingham. However, as there is testimony that Ms Parker was attacking him with a knife there is no basis for any finding beyond self defence for Mr Bassingham’s role in her death.

  I find that there is insufficient evidence to rule on the likely fate of either Fiona Rodgers or Susan McDonald though I express serious concerns about the fate of both girls. I encourage police to continue investigating both disappearances.

  In addition I find a likely case of murder exists by Mr Bassingham against the unknown person, J. However in the absence of evidence of her identity I am unable to make any further finding. As Mr Bassingham is now deceased, a murder charge is unable to be sustained. However I encourage the police to continue to search for the identity of this person as, should this be established, it is likely that closure could be brought to the case of this missing, even “lost” girl.

  I commend the NT Police and Ms Anne Smithfield for the extraordinary work they have done in investigating and bringing closure to many parts of this tragic investigation.

  I convey my profound sympathy to the parents and the many friends of these missing girls, whose fate may never be fully known.

  Chapter 45 – Telling the Story

  Two weeks after the coroner made his findings Anne was contacted by a leading commercial TV channel. It wished to do a ‘Lost Girls Mini Series’ run over three nights, telling the story of her investigation.

  It was to be a story in three parts, the first the tale of Mark, beginning with his troubled childhood up until the events of the first two ‘lost girls’, for whom he clearly had great affection. It was a story of a man seeking to rise above adversity yet endlessly caught up in tragedy.

  The second part was a story with a dark heart, the man who had become a wilful murderer, killing with no apparent remorse, as if in the possession of a dark or evil spirit.

  The third part was Susan and Cathy’s stories, where still some hope remained but the hope was only slim. Each of these told a story where elements of friendship, hope and love re-emerged, despite the destructive forces still at work.

  This part would end up as a testimony of hope for continued life of these final two brave girls and with it a second appeal for more funds to keep searching for these and other lost girls from across the country.

  It was to be followed by a memorial ceremony where plaques were placed for these missing girls and for others that the public at large were still searching for.

  Anne rang all the girls’ parents. All agreed to the story being told despite further distress to have to relive the pain in public, it was an important story and, if it helped find others, that was reason enough.

  The TV channel promised that the stories would be sympathetic to all girls and that each girl’s parents would have a right to veto of any private information that they found distasteful before it went to air. The TV station did not need this permission about information that was already in the public domain, but it agreed that it was in everyone’ interest that the story be tasteful and sympathetic.

  So Anne found herself as principal narrator of this bizarre and awful series of events. At times she found it so distressing that the cameras had to stop as she recomposed herself. But she stuck at it over six weeks of filming, two weeks per episode and, finally, it was done, She had put her heart and soul into the search, now she put her heart and soul into telling the story, hoping through it to reach someone, anyone who knew a fact that was real and new and which would help bring closure.

  After the story was made it went into two weeks of editing and she was consumed by the pre-publicity. She became an instantly recognisable film star with her flaming red hair and photogenic husband. Together they captured the public heart of Anne’s new country.

  Already the story had been syndicated to the UK, France, Sweden and Canada. Negotiations were advanced for the USA though Amanda’s story was the hardest to tell in a way that evoked public sympathy. But here the Professor was her firm ally, having agreed to give unlimited access to his experience with this girl who, despite bad things she had done, also had redeeming features that he described with clear affection. So somehow it worked, giving Amanda a kinder side while keeping faithful to the facts.

  At last it was done. Anne came home and collapsed into bed. David pampered her for the final three days until the first show went to air.

  For three nights they sat at home watching and reliving, with tears in their eyes. She was surprised that, even though she knew it all, it moved her beyond words. She prayed something good would come of it.

  Chapter 46 -Nowhere Search

  The documentary screened on prime time Monday night, at the end of May for an hour with the two follow up episodes running on successive nights. It was called ‘Nowhere Search.’ It was the highest rating show of the year. At the same time they reran the “Lost Ones Appeal” and, until after midnight on the third night, the phones rang off the hooks. By the end of the last night over half a million dollars had been pledged and over the next week with postal, internet and phone donations they comfortably passed a full million dollars.

  The day after the TV documentary finished the book “Lost Girls – Nowhere Search” was launched. It had five main parts, one for each of the girls, then, at the end, a small part titled Josie. Each part told a story of a girl’s life up until the time she disappeared. After that, where they could, they had used Mark’s diary to fill in blanks. It was story of four dead girls and two where nobody knew. It was generally agreed that Elin, Amanda, Isabelle and Josie were now all deceased.

  In the week after the program screened hundreds of calls came in which needed to be investigated. The police and missing persons’ organisations worked their way through them, successfully re-uniting three families with their long lost children, so that was something good.

  But of the fate of these four presumed dead girls and of the two still listed as missing nothing new came.

  Anne felt, at her core that Susan and Cathy were probably both dead, yet she refused to let her mind go there. Something beyond explanation was at work here. It sustained an unending hope in her for one of them to walk through the door. But she was utterly exhausted with the looking.

  In the end she realised that she had done all she could, her own search was now concluded and she must get on with her own life. She knew that, if Susan was here, she would have told her to do exactly that too, she would not want yet another life damaged through her.

  So she and David set a date and agreed that they would go ahead and get married as soon as the final memorial day has passed. With that she thought she could close the book on her “Nowhere Search”.

  Chapter 47-A Glimmer

  Anne found she was unable to just let it go as the days and weeks passed, to acknowledge the search was really over. It felt like a final disloyalty to Susan to admit defeat. So the story kept on going round and round in her mind always searching for what else she could do; whatever new lead to there was to pursue.

  Her life had been consumed by the search. Was it really only a year since she had started? She remembered so clearly that fateful day when Susan had begun telling her story, that futile attempt to cast off her past and return to her childhood Emily identity. It had lasted less than a week until the day when the evil spirit, which seemed to have taken residence in her soul, overwhelmed her.

  At least that was the way it now felt after all this time as she looked back. She was still no wiser as to whether Susan was alive or dead. No glimmer of a new identity or an existence after that night had emerged, but she refused to let her mind concede there was no hope.

  She had to admit it did look bad, the sandals which she had lent to her friend and the crocodile totem found next to the billabong must mean Susan had come back to this place of the crocodiles before vanishing.

  While nothing further had been found it was hard to believe that, after coming there, she had gone elsewhere rather than into the water.

  Since that day, when Alan had rung her to tell her of the discovery, she could not bear to allow herself to follow those thoughts to where they led, a body torn apart and consumed. But dreaming of other possibilities was futile. So her mind spun in an endless loop.

  Both she and David carried a burden of remorse for choosing to go out to dinner that night, rather than calling to see Susan and ensure she had their support.

  It was at least as bad for Vic who she could see had become instantly and totally captivated by this vanished girl. Vic blamed himself even more for agreeing to have his operation so soon, rather than staying with her and delaying it until after the babies were born. But, if it had happened the way everyone thought, there were no babies anymore either, not one but three lives lost. It was too awful to contemplate what it meant.

  But yet Anne, despite knowing she had done all she could, was not able to put it from her mind, it was always there, an unresolved grief.

  The good thing was it had not poisoned her relationship with David; that was stronger than ever though they had mutually agree to push the wedding back and defer marriage plans until next Christmas to allow Anne to pursue all the leads that she could uncover unhindered. Once they got married they planned no delay in beginning their own family and her free time would vanish. So she knew she must bring this search to something approaching a conclusion before then.

  Now it was June the year after, fifteen months from when Susan had vanished and a year since the fundraiser which had launched the public campaign, not just for Susan but for all the many other people who had vanished in Australia without a trace.

  Others were using funds to search for other missing people; she had concentrated her search only on Susan, the other girls whose passports were found and the girl, J, that Mark had spoken of in his diary.

  Last month, when the TV channel screened the documentary which accompanied her book, the response was huge. The million dollars of additional donations from that night was now funding the building of memorials and following of leads for other missing people.

  Next month would be the final event in which she would take a part, a memorial service in Darwin. They would place the six plaques with the girls’ names at the end of East Point where the harbour met the sea, a place which looked out to the west where the sun set over an ocean called the Timor Sea. Anne’s mind associated the setting sun with the passing to new life and eternal hope.

  This day, as all those thoughts of the search ran round and round in her mind, she was sitting in the sunny living room of the flat she shared in Glebe with David. It was actually his place, but now her travels around the world were finished she had moved in with him, set up with a computer and all the other mod cons for her writing.

  It had a glorious view out onto Sydney harbour, with ANZAC bridge dominating the skyline. In the early morning and evening she would watch the dragon boat crews practice their racing skills. Other times she would glimpse large ships further out, sometimes the luxury cruising boats with millionaire owners who moored immediately across the bay from her.

  She loved this view, especially on winter sunny mornings when the sun streamed in and she sat her in her track pants and slippers having a leisurely breakfast after David had gone off to his office in Camperdown to work. She thought of him and his tousled blond hair with affection as she had last glimpsed him leaving this morning.

  The phone rang, startling her out of her reverie. It was someone from the TV channel, one of the administrative people who had been dealing with the donations for the appeal. She could not recall this lady’s face but her name sounded familiar.

  The phone voice asked if it was Anne and, when Anne confirmed it was, the voice said, “We have this slightly unusual letter addressed to our appeal and with your name and then; ‘Private and Confidential’ written at the top. I have not opened it, it seemed like I should check with you first.

  “Perhaps it’s another parent asking for help, and they did not want to disclose what has happened more widely, but are asking for you to read their request privately before you do anything further. I wondered, should I send it on to you? Or alternatively, if you are coming past our office in the next day or two, you could pick it up.”

  Anne felt intrigued and curious. There had been lots of requests for help early on, mainly after the first appeal. They had worked with the police in deciding what to do with these, helping where they could. But generally these came in to the well advertised help line and address, not via the appeal which was used as a place of public donations.

  Anne felt she needed to read the contents of this envelope first, just by herself, to honour the sender’s wishes. As David’s flat was at the bottom of Glebe looking out to Blackwattle Bay it was only a fifteen minute walk to Pyrmont, the location of the TV channel office, from where the call came.

  Anne had not been out today; it would be good to stretch her legs. She replied. “It is only a short walk from here to your office. So, if it is OK, I will pop round in about half an hour to collect it.”

  “Sure,” the person on the other end of the phone replied.

  She had a quick shower and changed out of her tracksuit into a smart business suit, then walked out in the crisp winter morning air. It was a glorious Sydney day, the sun low to the north east and shining in her face, warming her as she walked. She loved this walk around the bottom of the harbour, passing people of all shapes and ages, the fit brigade, cyclists in fluoro gear on the way to a late work start, people walking dogs, elderly people taking in the morning sun and fresh air. She passed the coffee shop on the point and resisted the temptation for coffee and cake; she could feel weight was creeping on with the last month of at home inactivity and good eating and drinking. Perhaps she would indulge on the walk home.

  Soon she was at the TV office reception. They all knew here from last month’s program and greeted her like a long lost friend. The admin person came out to the front desk and passed Anne the letter. Anne thanked her then looked at it curiously.

  It was a small plain envelope with a single postage stamp postmarked ‘Adelaide’ in one corner. At the top was her name – then Private and Confidential underlined, followed by the appeal address from the TV program. It had been meticulously transcribed in neat handwriting using capitals. There was no return address and no other distinguishing features on the outside.