A Time of Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

accompanied by another tug at my arm.
    I knew St Kilda quite well, because Leroy Johnson was billeted at the Prince of Wales Hotel, on Fitzroy Street near the beach. I’d joined him for dinner there and he’d taken me to Luna Park, of course. We’d also walked along St Kilda Beach – in the rain, of course ! It had a reputation for unsavoury activities, and crime. In May 1942, three women had been brutally murdered by an American soldier, Eddie Leonski, who’d become known as ‘the brownout strangler’. Leonski had attacked a woman in St Kilda and killed one of his victims in Albert Park. He had been executed in November last year, but I couldn’t help the occasional shiver when I walked alone at night.
    ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Campbell, but we can’t linger,’ said Dolly. ‘Waiting for a phone call.’
    ‘Be careful when you’re out, Stella, dear,’ Mrs Campbell’s voice followed us, as Dolly practically dragged me up the terrazzo stairway to our first-floor flat. ‘You know how the cold air brings on your asthma.’
    Dolly unlocked the door and we entered the dark hallway. I hung my hat and greatcoat on the hallstand with a sigh of relief and stumbled into the lounge room, where I collapsed into one of the large chintz-covered sofas. Using her torch to navigate across the room, Dolly walked over to the glass doors leading to the balcony and pulled across the heavy curtains. Then she turned on the lamps.
    ‘ Axe murderers ,’ said Dolly, in a low thrilling voice. ‘I swear, Mrs Busybody simply adores a good murder.’
    ‘She didn’t say the girl had died, just that she’d been attacked.’ I really didn’t want to dwell on it.
    ‘Well, you be sure to cling tightly to your captain when you’re down in his neck of the woods.’ She laughed. ‘Has he taken you for a walk along the beach?’
    ‘Of course, but it was raining.’
    Dolly grinned. ‘Then you might have been spared the sight of marines and local girls rolling around on the sand. They say that more marines have, er, become men, so to speak, at St Kilda Beach than anywhere else and it should be declared a national monument.’
    The telephone rang, startling us.
    ‘That’ll be your Yankee captain,’ said Dolly, in a high singsong voice. ‘Go out dancing and forget all about your worries for tonight. Leave any axe murderers to me.’
    ‘You’re safe enough,’ I said. ‘Wrong uniform. Wrong suburb.’

Four
    ‘H oney, if you want gin I can find some.’
    Captain Leroy Johnson was responding to my request for something more alcoholic than a lemon squash. We were in Prahran at Leggett’s Ballroom, one of the biggest in Melbourne, open until midnight every night with continuous dancing and music provided by two bands. It was supposed to be dry, because all public venues were required by law to cease serving alcoholic beverages at six o’clock. That had never stopped the Americans; they smuggled alcohol in to all the dance halls.
    ‘I’d love a drink. It’s been a difficult day.’
    ‘Your wish is my command,’ said Leroy. I smiled my thanks and he glanced at our companions. ‘You want some booze, Joe? Kathy?’
    We were sitting with Leroy’s best friend, Captain Joe Baudoin, and his Australian girlfriend. Joe was a short, eager-looking man from Louisiana, who was in the Engineering Corps with Leroy. Kathy Kelly was a pretty brunette. Before the war she’d been a salesgirl at the Myer Emporium in the women’s wear department, and although she’d been manpowered into working at a munitions factory in Maribyrnong on the outskirts of Melbourne, she seemed to have an unending store of party frocks and evening dresses from that almost mythical time, Before the War. Tonight she was wearing a slinky dress of dusty pink, embroidered on the sleeves and waist with big black flowers, and she looked stunning. I glanced down at my khaki and stifled a sigh, wishing army regulations allowed me to put off my uniform and dance in a pretty