Читать книгу Fractured Silence - Emma Curtin - Страница 10

Having responded to my letter, in November 2015, Norma’s niece welcomed me into her home. A tall, slender woman with short grey hair, she was friendly, if a little reticent.

I think it was at this point that the reality of Norma’s death really hit me; made more powerful by my own recent loss. She was no longer just a name on faded paper. I was sitting opposite someone with a direct DNA connection.

While knowing little of her aunt’s death, and wishing to remain anonymous, she generously shared family photographs and stories. I finally had a picture of Norma and it created a powerful sensation. Prize winning photojournalist Renee Byer once said “a still photograph stops time. It gives the viewer a moment to think, to react, to feel”. So true. The impact of these images was incredible. The McLeod family were no longer one dimensional … everything about these photos told me something about them … their dress, their facial expressions … their personal interactions. And I could now see an uncanny resemblance between Rhys’ daughter – the woman who sat in front of me – and her grandmother, Edith McLeod.

Rhys’ daughter has continued to be part of the story, sharing her insights at various points in the journey. Most importantly, she gave me an entrée into Norma’s family, providing the contact details of a number of relatives I would later meet.

Someone once wrote that the only line of approach to a mystery was through “an intensive examination of the antecedents, background, temperament and development of those concerned in it”. The stories and pictures provided by members of Norma’s extended family would help me develop a fuller picture of her life and death. This would flesh out the little that I’d already learnt and lead me to new pathways of investigation.

The blurred image of Norma and the circumstances surrounding her tragic death were slowly coming into focus. Finally, Norma was becoming flesh and blood.

But before we look into what the family tales told me, I want to take us back to the case itself.

I’d already found the inquest files. I later discovered that the Victorian Public Records Office also housed police correspondence and reports in their enormous archives. Would Norma’s case be among them? And if so, what would they reveal?

Norma, taken around mid-1920s