The Man in the Water

by David Burton

  ‘He was facedown. I didn’t recognise him. But when you guys came to school and told everyone Tyson was missing, I realised.’

  ‘So, you didn’t know, and then, somehow, you knew?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Why are you being a dickhead?’ Will said, leaning across the table. ‘Just because you didn’t believe him the first time—’

  ‘There wasn’t anything there, Shaun.’ Charlie was ignoring Will. ‘There wasn’t a body.’

  ‘There was. I saw it. I told you.’

  ‘There’s a murderer on the loose!’ Will almost stood up. ‘And you guys aren’t doing anything.’

  Charlie focused on Will for the first time. ‘A murderer?’

  ‘He was hit on the head!’

  Shaun looked down, felt the weight of the room press into him. When he glanced up again, Charlie was watching him carefully. ‘Did you tell Megan and her mum that he’d been hit over the head?’

  Shaun felt like he wanted to vomit again.

  ‘Um. Yep.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he was bleeding there, dickhead.’ Will sighed.

  ‘If he had a mark on his head, Shaun, why didn’t you tell me that the first time?’

  Silence. Shaun could feel Will looking at him.

  He swallowed.

  ‘I thought I did.’

  ‘You didn’t.’

  Shaun slumped back. ‘What does it matter?’

  Charlie’s eyes didn’t move. He was starting to freak Shaun out. ‘How can I trust you, Shaun?’

  ‘I just didn’t tell you at the time because we needed to hurry. I didn’t think.’

  Charlie leant back in his chair.

  There was a yell from the hallway. And then the sound of a fist hitting a wall. Shaun felt the windows rattle.

  ‘IT WAS YOU.’

  Shaun recognised the voice. It was Peter yelling at the top of his lungs.

  ‘God,’ muttered Charlie. ‘Wait here.’

  He got up and lunged at the door.

  There was a fight in the hallway. The whole building shook.

  ‘GET OFF.’

  That was probably Baker.

  ‘STOP.’

  That was Megan, pleading with her father.

  Will got up and went out into the hallway.

  Shaun wanted to disappear, but there was nowhere else to go. He followed Will.

  Baker was clinging to Peter’s massive frame. It took a few moments for Shaun to realise that someone was underneath Peter.

  ‘STOP, MR GRANT!’ yelled Charlie. ‘LET HIM GO.’

  Shaun saw the man with the moustache crawl out from under Peter. He was breathing hard, his hair was a mess. Charlie stepped in between the two men.

  ‘JUST GO,’ Baker said to the man with the moustache.

  ‘NO!’ Peter bellowed, but the man was too quick, and darted through the door before Peter could throw off the cops.

  ‘Peter, stop or you’ll be under arrest,’ Baker said, her voice calm but firm. ‘Just stop. Your daughter’s watching.’

  At that he finally seemed to deflate. He was still and breathing but the two cops maintained their weight on him, to make sure he was calm.

  Will brushed past them to the front door.

  ‘Will—’ Shaun shouted, and took off after him.

  ‘You two stay here,’ said Charlie, anticipating their exit. But Will was only going as far as the doorway.

  He looked out onto the street, then turned back to Shaun, grinning.

  ‘Did you see that?’ he said.

  Shaun had.

  The man with the moustache had jumped in the ute. 839 LZE.

  Later, Shaun and his mother drove home in silence. It was night by then, and he was exhausted from the weight of the day. He had told the story of finding Tyson a thousand times. Once with Charlie. Then with Baker. Then with Charlie again, with Baker watching. Each time a dozen different questions, hoping to catch him in a lie. Then, horribly, he had sat opposite Megan, her mum and her dad, and told them everything. He added in the bloody head every time. It was too late now to say otherwise.

  After the wrestle in the hallway, Shaun’s worst fears about Peter were confirmed. His red-hot grief had already threatened to tear apart the man with the moustache. Shaun was scared that the anger would be directed at him. Instead, once he had finished telling the story to the Grants, Peter turned on Charlie with a snarl.

  ‘So, that’s it,’ he snapped. ‘You just dropped it? You thought he was making it up?’

  There was silence, then Baker spoke. ‘Mr Grant, you must understand, a teenager coming in and telling us tall tales is—’

  Peter threw his hands up in disgust and swore at them.

  Somewhere around then Shaun’s mum arrived. And then Tyson’s girlfriend, Millie, showed up and the evening felt deeper and darker.

  Everything after that was a blur. There were still so many questions.

  The crunch of the handbrake stirred him. They were home. His mum turned the car off, and they sat there, listening to the engine softly ticking as it cooled. She was searching for words to say.

  ‘Shaun,’ she said, ‘I’m sorry if I—’ Her voice broke. ‘I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t believe you or if I haven’t been there enough for you or – I don’t know.’

  He reached out a hand and touched her arm. ‘It’s okay, Mum, it’s all good.’

  Her voice was almost a whisper. ‘Did you really see Tyson in the water, Shaun? Are you sure?’

  He nodded. ‘Yeah, Mum. I promise.’

  ‘Okay.’

  She looked out the window into the dark garage. Then he spoke again. ‘I don’t have to go to a psychologist now, right?’

  ‘Yes.’ She laughed. ‘You do.’

  ‘But, why? It’s not like you’ve ever been to one.’

  There was no answer to that. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘You need to get to bed.’

  It had been a few months since he’d seen her cry and he’d been glad of the change. Prior to that he’d heard her every night, before he went to sleep. And sometimes in the kitchen, when she was waiting for the kettle to boil or the toast to pop up. She was sad and angry all over again now, and he felt like he had somehow caused it. Rather than make her proud, him finding the body had made his mum feel worse.

  Within half an hour he was showered and in bed. But he couldn’t sleep. The Grant family cycled through his head. Peter. Elaine. Millie. And Megan.

  At the exact moment he had told them, he saw something in them break. A small, fragile thing that he knew would never be fixed.

  Shaun’s lie was becoming thornier. There hadn’t been a mark on Tyson’s head. The police officers were particularly interested in this detail, and Shaun had struggled to keep it sounding real. Baker and Charlie seemed unconvinced by the whole story, but the lie in the middle of it all didn’t help his case.

  Besides, Megan herself had said that Peter was worried about Tyson, said he might have done something stupid. That he’d been unhappy.

  If he had been, then what did that mean?

  Tyson calmly takes off his boots and walks to the edge of the lake. He takes a breath and walks straight into the water, letting the cold engulf him. Tyson’s head disappears beneath the surface with no sound but a quiet gulp. He is under for long, patient minutes.

  A short while later, Shaun comes running to the same place, unaware that his life is about to change. The stones in Tyson’s pockets work their way loose, and he is released. Like a magic trick, his heavy corpse floats to the surface of the water. And Shaun is there to witness it.

  It all made sense. Except for the part where the body disappeared.

  It couldn’t have been suicide. He didn’t want it to be suicide. Suicide meant Peter and Elaine and Megan and Millie
were helpless. That they were somehow all victims of self-murder.

  He slept in on Saturday. His mum had the day off, and she was firm about Shaun staying home and doing nothing. In the middle of the afternoon, he carried the CDs and player from the lounge room into his bedroom. He took out a few of his favourites and let them play loud enough that he couldn’t hear anything else. He tried to drown out the questions in his head.

  By Sunday afternoon, he was restless, and Will was too. He sent Shaun a text. At boring family BBQ. But Sarah’s here. Going to talk to her about moustache man and that car. Want to come round?

  Of course. Sarah. She would be able to tell them if the car had been hired by the same guy again, which would at least confirm one of the puzzle pieces. Shaun went out to his mum, who was trying to tame the backyard jungle. Everything was overgrown and messy since his dad left them.

  ‘Will’s invited me to a family barbecue,’ he said. ‘I’m going to go.’

  His mum didn’t look up. Her hands were trying to find the root of a thick tangle of green. ‘Don’t you mean to say, “Darling Mother, may I please go out to see Will, pretty please?”’

  Shaun felt his phone buzz again in his hand. Another message from Will.

  My mum says your mum can come too if she wants.

  ‘DAMMIT,’ yelled his mum. Shaun looked up, surprised. She swiped at the disobedient bush. She was red in the face. ‘This stupid thing should never have been planted.’

  ‘Will’s mum has also invited you,’ said Shaun.

  She sighed. ‘Okay,’ she said, wiping her forearm across her face. She went to shower.

  Shaun’s dad had planted the jungle. He’d planted everything. He’d gone through a phase when they first bought the house and moved here from Brisbane. Every weekend, in between shifts, he’d gone to the tiny hardware store (it was an empty shop now) and bought whatever seeds he fancied. Then he tossed them into the backyard, not bothering to water them.

  ‘Whatever grows will grow,’ he said.

  Stuff had grown. But it was mostly weeds and nuisance plants. There was an untidy cluster of cherry tomato plants in one corner, but they never felt right about eating them. Shaun had bitten into one once and it tasted like flour.

  His mother appeared in the lounge room, freshly cleaned. ‘Let’s go,’ she said, taking the car keys.

  She was in a mood, and it was weird. He would have to find Will and Sarah and ask about the car without his mum noticing. If she knew he was still investigating the murder, she’d flip out.

  But his skin felt almost itchy with energy for the first time all weekend. Will’s connection to Sarah might prove to be worthwhile after all. He was moments away from finding out the identity of the man who had something to do with Tyson’s murder, he knew it in his gut. He could still be a hero to his mum and to Megan. He would make everything right again.

  Shaun had always liked Will’s mum, Sasha. Will got his smile from her. She worked at the bank and was constantly singing to herself. And in the months after his dad’s death, she’d dropped a meal at their front door almost every day.

  She pulled Shaun into a hug at once, and then did the same for his mother.

  ‘Will was telling me,’ she said, ‘you’ve had such an awful week, Shaun.’

  He nodded, suddenly shy. She turned to his mum. ‘Would you believe my little bugger told me nothing about it? Was trying to be Sherlock Holmes and figure out the mystery by himself. He’s always has big ideas in his head.’

  ‘Mine too,’ she said, ‘I don’t know what to do with them.’

  Sasha invited them in. It was coming on dusk now, and the house was tinged with orange light. There was the sound of music coming from a well-worn stereo, and there were people everywhere. Will’s family was big. He had six younger siblings, but Shaun had lost count of his cousins and aunts and uncles. These family barbecues were weekly stints. Will didn’t like to talk about them, and he avoided them as much as he could. But looking around, Shaun was jealous of the sheer size of this family. It was just him and his mum at home, and his grandparents in Brisbane and on the coast. But Will had dozens of people within a short walk of his house.

  Shaun happily accepted a plastic cup of Coke and found Will out the back.

  Within moments Will was leading Shaun back through the house to one of the bedrooms. Sarah was in a doorway, flicking through her phone.

  She looked up and smiled. ‘You both came,’ she said. ‘Cool. Is the food out yet?’

  ‘No – almost, though,’ said Will.

  ‘What’s going on?’ She sounded suspicious. Clearly Will didn’t make a habit of chatting with her like this.

  ‘We wanted to ask you more about one car,’ said Will. ‘We noticed it was returned early on one of the days from that document.’

  Sarah sighed. ‘Is this about the body Shaun found? Is that what this whole thing was about?’

  Shaun shifted nervously and Will shrugged. ‘So what if it is?’

  She glanced at Shaun. ‘Does your mum know you’re asking me these questions?’

  But Will didn’t let him speak. ‘We’re not going to do anything stupid, Sarah,’ he said. ‘We’re just trying to figure it out.’

  ‘It’s police business, Will. You don’t go mucking around in police business. You’re being stupid.’

  ‘We’re not doing anything!’ he protested. ‘You haven’t even heard the question yet! Plus, the police are being weird. Mr Grant was really mad with them. And they didn’t believe Shaun the first time when he said he’d found the body. The body’s still out there, somewhere. And someone should figure out what happened.’

  Sarah ran her fingers through her hair. ‘It’s not your responsibility.’

  Shaun was cradling his cup, uncertain of what to say.

  ‘Shaun …’ she began, but her voice didn’t lead anywhere. ‘Are you … Are you okay?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘You don’t believe me because of my dad, yeah?’

  No answer.

  ‘I get it,’ he said. ‘I guess I wouldn’t either.’ He looked up at her. ‘But it’s true.’

  There was a moment’s pause before Sarah turned back to Will. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Tell me everything.’

  When Will told the story it sounded epic: how Shaun had seen the body and tried to do the right thing, immediately going to the police who couldn’t have cared less, but resolving to figure out the murder himself for the sake of justice.

  When he got to the moustache man and the mysterious ute, Sarah started nodding. ‘I know who you’re talking about.’

  At that the two of them were excited. ‘Who?’ said Will.

  ‘Well, he takes the same car every time, if it’s available. It’s easier for the mining companies if we give them the same one, so they can keep track of the plates coming on- and off-site and who’s in what car. That ute usually goes to admin for Scotts. Scotts has an account with the company, so we make a certain number of cars available to them. The dude with the moustache is Henry Simms.’

  ‘Henry Simms.’ Shaun let the name roll round his mouth.

  ‘He’s one of the site safety managers,’ she said. ‘I know because I have to write down his ID details twice a week when he flies in and back out to his home in Brisbane.’

  ‘So, why did he return the car early?’ said Will.

  ‘I don’t know. I wasn’t working that shift.’

  Shaun’s heart sank. That was a dead end.

  ‘Who was?’ Will said.

  Sarah laughed. ‘I’m not telling you. You’ll go harass them. And I can do without that in my life, thank you very much. Let’s go get food, come on.’

  ‘No, wait,’ Will said, jumping in front of her. ‘What else can you tell us about this guy? Is he creepy? Or weird? Or—’

  ‘Or a murderer?’

  ‘Well, yeah.’
>
  Sarah laughed. ‘The mining companies are capable of a lot, and they get up to some dodgy stuff. But killing a guy and dumping his body in the lake? That sounds insane.’

  Will broke in, ‘Yeah, but it’s possible.’

  ‘Henry Simms is a normal guy, and you can’t go bothering him, okay?’

  ‘But Mr Grant was upset with him. He wanted to bash him!’

  ‘That’s Mr Grant’s business. He’s always pissed off with the admin staff about something.’

  Will scowled. ‘Why are you being so uptight about this, Sarah?’

  Sarah crossed her arms. ‘Because jobs are hard to find in this town. If you start sniffing around this then people are going to ask questions and I’m going to get into trouble for telling you stuff. Mines are big business for the car hire place and I don’t want to get into trouble, okay? So that’s it. Over.’

  She walked out to the yard, leaving Will and Shaun in the bedroom doorway.

  They stood there, the low drone of the party behind them.

  ‘What do you think?’ said Shaun.

  ‘I think Henry Simms killed Tyson Grant.’

  Shaun barely slept. Will was waiting outside his house to walk to school the next morning, and ready to compare notes on what they’d managed to find out online about Henry Simms.

  He was a safety manager for Scotts mines, and had obviously been working in town for a while. Nevertheless, his family was in Brisbane. There were photos of him on Facebook holding his young daughter at the beach, but they looked old. A recent photo showed him with his arm around his wife. He looked about 50. There were no photos of him at work, but that was unsurprising. Phones and cameras weren’t really allowed on-site, and as a safety officer Simms would need to keep strict adherence to the rules.

  ‘He doesn’t look like a killer,’ said Shaun, shouldering his backpack.

  ‘Killers don’t look like killers,’ said Will. ‘They’re normal people.’

  ‘But why would he do it? Why would Simms wrestle Tyson in the water and then hide the body?’

  Will was holding his phone, studying Simms’s profile picture. ‘I reckon it’s pretty clear. They have some kind of fight by the water after work.’