Free The Silent Country by Di Morrissey Page B

find out some firm details about Topov’s plans as well.
    ‘We have star, we have motorcade, we announce expedition going to film wild Australia,’ said Topov.
    ‘Where’s the route map?’ asked Peter.
    ‘No map. No big roads, we follow sun,’ exclaimed Topov expansively. ‘Bourke. We go first to Bourke.’
    ‘Bourke? That’s to the north, I think, so it’s not exactly following the sun,’ said Colin, but Topov missed his littleattempt at humour. ‘I’ll contact the papers, ask them to send a photographer. Where shall we take the picture?’ he asked. ‘At Madame Olga’s?’
    ‘No, no. Do not mention Madame Olga to press. This is Topov Production. We go to sand dunes, place where they make films for desert. We pose in desert with motor cars. Marta in sexy clothes.’
    ‘Where is Marta?’ asked Drago.
    ‘Helen take her for wardrobe. Buy sexy clothes.’
    ‘How wild is the film going to be?’ asked Johnny with a grin.
    Topov roared. ‘It be beautiful film. Beautiful scenery, beautiful animals, beautiful woman in jungle. It be beautiful success.’
    ‘It must be nice to be so confident all the time,’ said Peter tersely. ‘Better we buy trucks not sexy pants. Where is Johnny getting them?’
    ‘Johnny clever boy. He knows people,’ said Topov calmly.
    Topov shrugged as Peter walked away. ‘Dutchy people not laugh. Always straight at your face. This is okay.’
    ‘At least you know where you stand,’ said Drago.
    ‘Johnny good cook,’ grinned Topov. ‘He cook anything. You see, he cooking up good car for Topov.’ He rubbed his fingers together and winked. ‘Johnny good boy, he know many people, make good deal.’
    They assembled on the edge of the city, at the Kurnell sand dunes. Here there were miles of rolling sandhills at the edge of a peninsula bordered by the Pacific Ocean on one side and Botany Bay on the other. Even Colin had never been there. It was a desolate place, though Captain Cook who had first landed at Botany Bay found it an acceptable and propitious landfall.
    The vehicles lined up with the large sand dunes behind, looking as if they were in the middle of a desert. The pressphotographer and even Colin, who had no knowledge of cars, were taken aback at the strange array of vehicles. The small convoy included a 1936 Dodge, a Jeep with a canvas roof from ex-army surplus and a battered Land Rover behind which was hitched a squat round caravan that had once been canary yellow.
    ‘This is an interesting line-up,’ said the photographer. ‘Could we have the young lady at the front, please.’
    Marta, dressed in new khaki shorts, a low-cut blouse and a leopard-print scarf, was posed at the front of the Jeep holding a rifle. Beside her was Maxim Topov with his arm draped over a massive camera he’d had Peter and Drago manhandle out of the caravan for the photo. He announced with pride, ‘This de Brie Super Parvo camera,’ and directed them to set it up on a huge tripod that had a geared head with two control wheels, one on the back and the other on the left side to direct the lens.
    ‘This must weigh a hundred pounds,’ muttered Peter. ‘He’s not taking this contraption, is he?’
    ‘Doesn’t make for taking wildlife shots on the run,’ admitted Drago grimly. ‘He’ll have to use the little Bolex a lot of the time, I bet. But the two cameras use different film, sixteen millimetre and thirty-five millimetre, so they won’t splice together. I wonder if he knows what he’s doing?’
    Topov, hearing this, glared at Drago. ‘Topov very clever. He use one camera for movie, little camera to make picture for TV for American market and maybe BBC. Make two productions, make twice as much money. This why Topov producer.’
    Johnny climbed onto the roof of the truck and posed as if looking for wild animals. The rest of the group clustered around the other vehicles.
    When the photographer was satisfied, the bulky camera was dismantled from the tripod and the photographertook down