Ghostly Hitchhiker Box Set

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Ghostly Hitchhiker Box Set Page 70

by Rodney Strong


  Beth’s face showed she hadn’t been expecting that, so he pressed on.

  ‘You tricked Brigid into burying it in their secret hiding spot. You and Jill wanted to embarrass Debbie.’

  ‘We were young, it was a stupid prank. We…I certainly didn’t know that someone was going to take her.’

  ‘But you didn’t tell anyone about it,’ Oliver said.

  Beth couldn’t meet his eyes. ‘It had nothing to do with Debbie going missing, and we were…’

  ‘Scared.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, finally looking at him.

  ‘You’re right, it had nothing to do with Debbie’s abduction. However it gave you,’ he stared at Jasper, ‘the opportunity to take her.’

  Jasper made a dismissive sound and flapped his hand dismissively.

  ‘I already admitted that Barbara and I were having an affair. And I quite clearly told you before that it was not a reason to commit murder.’

  ‘No,’ Oliver agreed. ‘It wasn’t. At least not for murdering Debbie, because that was a mistake, wasn’t it, Jasper? You weren’t trying to kill her, you thought she was Brigid.’

  ‘What?!’ Beth exclaimed.

  ‘Preposterous,’ Jasper said.

  (Prewhaterous?)

  ‘Brigid and Debbie caught you and Barbara together, but after Debbie left Brigid saw something else. She probably didn’t even know what it was, but Barbara caught her and told you about it. So you decided that Brigid needed to go. Only you mixed them up. They looked a little alike, and Debbie was wearing one of Brigid’s jackets. It was only afterwards that you realised you had the wrong girl.’

  ‘No!’

  Oliver spun around to see Barbara standing by the edge of the house.

  ‘Tell me that’s not true, Jasper.’

  ‘Oh shut up, Barbara,’ the old man said. ‘None of that’s true,’ he continued while looking at Oliver, ‘but say it was. I couldn’t have killed Brigid, I was in Auckland, which would seem to throw your theory in the rubbish where it belongs. Beth, you’re a judge, I believe that’s called reasonable doubt.’

  Beth seemed to be struggling to catch up.

  ‘Like you said, records were spotty back then, I’m sure it wouldn’t have been too hard to take an earlier flight,’ Oliver said.

  Beth spoke. ‘What proof do you have that Jasper murdered Debbie? I thought she didn’t remember.’

  ‘Who didn’t remember?’ Barbara asked.

  Oliver shook his head. ‘I’m sure all proof from forty years ago has long been destroyed, but not from two days ago.’

  ‘What are you jabbering about now?’ Jasper said.

  ‘The last call Nick Rawlings made was to his murderer. It’s your home number.’

  Jasper swayed a little, the colour fleeing from his face. ‘But that’s…I didn’t speak…’

  ‘What’s going on?’

  Oliver turned once more, feeling as if any more sudden movements would send him corkscrewing into the ground.

  A tall man in his fifties stood beside Barbara, his hands on his hips. He wore a suit with a plain white shirt and blue tie and his face was flushed red. Either he was furious or he was experiencing a heart attack.

  ‘James,’ Jasper said.

  (James. Yuck.)

  Monty let out a low growl.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Jasper continued.

  ‘David called me. Don’t say another word. I thought I was done clearing up your messes,’ he scowled.

  Oliver thought that perhaps he was going to get his Agatha Christie moment after all. Something occurred to him but before he could get a handle on it his phone rang. A quick glance at the screen showed the Australian number.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he answered it.

  ‘Hello, Oliver. Can you talk?’ Amanda said.

  ‘Well I’m in the middle of confronting a murderer,’ he murmured.

  ‘I won’t keep you then. Things have gone a little off with this job. Call me back when you’re done? If I don’t hear from you I’ll assume you’re dead.’

  ‘Your grandmother is worried about you. So am I.’

  ‘So am I to be honest. I’ve badly misjudged the target this time.’

  ‘Then come home.’ He glanced around to see everyone staring at him.

  ‘I’m trying. Do me a favour, I’m going to send you a text message with a number in it. If you don’t hear from me in the next day give it to Alice. She can use it to clean up my mess. Goodbye, Oliver, and thanks.’

  ‘Wait!’ He shouted to the dead phone line.

  ‘Everything alright, Oliver?’ Beth asked.

  Clean up my mess.

  The outline of the thought from earlier came back and began solidifying.

  Didn’t you say that everyone thought James killed the goldfish?

  (Yeah, it was Robert but we said it was James.)

  So you got James in trouble.

  (He didn’t know it was us.)

  ‘I don’t have all day, so can someone tell me what’s going on?’ James demanded.

  ‘Mr Atkinson is currently accusing me of being a murderer, a poor one,’ Jasper told his son with a smile.

  ‘And Jasper was explaining how he couldn’t have done it because he was in Auckland when Brigid was killed,’ Barbara added.

  ‘Why are we wasting time on something that happened forty years ago?’ James said with a sharp cutting motion of his hand that reminded Oliver of the man’s father.

  ‘What about forty-eight hours ago?’ Beth asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Two nights ago Nick Rawlings called your house,’ Oliver began. ‘Your father says he didn’t answer it and I’m not sure he’s a good enough liar to fool me. But you could have answered it. In fact that makes perfect sense,’ Oliver continued. ‘You were a kid, twelve or thirteen. You were the one who took Nick’s poetry journal and wrote your name in it. That’s the kind of thing a bully would do.’

  He flashed back to an incident from his early teens and hurried on.

  ‘Nick rang you. He probably didn’t accuse you of murder but he said something that got you worried. What was it?’

  There was absolute silence in the back yard. Even Monty seemed interested.

  ‘As a lawyer I’m completely familiar with libel laws,’ James said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Slander. Libel is written, slander is spoken defamation,’ Beth replied.

  ‘Whatever,’ James snapped. ‘This is ridiculous and we are leaving. Come on, Father.’

  Oliver saw the old man waver, torn between obeying his son and wanting to stay.

  ‘Jasper might have been in Auckland but you weren’t, were you, James? And I’m guessing that at age twelve you had a pretty good idea of how to drive a car.’

  (Oh my gosh. He killed Brigid? That’s so mean.)

  ‘James! No,’ Jasper said disbelievingly.

  ‘You’re hardly in a position to judge,’ James told his father.

  ‘Is that a confession?’ Oliver asked. James clamped his mouth shut. ‘So if it wasn’t the affair, what could have been so bad that it was worth two deaths?’ Oliver asked. ‘The entertainment industry has taught us that if it’s not sex, it’s money.’

  That shot in the dark hit home with Jasper and he slumped against the wall of the house. Barbara hurried to his side and gripped his arm to prevent him from slipping down further.

  ‘Money,’ Oliver repeated. ‘Jill said her parents heard a rumour about you. I assumed it was about you and Barbara, but it might have been something else. You were in charge of the fundraising for the new pool. Did you help yourself to some of it?’

  ‘It was supposed to start being built in 1978 but we didn’t do it until the year later,’ Beth said.

  ‘I’m leaving. You can stay if you like and listen to this rubbish.’ James turned to leave.

  ‘Cleaning up your father’s mess,’ Oliver said quickly and the man hesitated. ‘I’m not going to stop until I uncover the truth so you might as well stay.’<
br />
  (You sound so grown up, Oliver.)

  I am a grown up.

  (No, the rest of them are grown up.)

  ‘Did Brigid see you take the money?’ he directed his question to Jasper.

  After a few seconds, Jasper nodded.

  ‘Father!’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, James. I’m old and tired. Yes. I didn’t know it at the time, but she saw me take the money out of the school safe. Barbara told me that night that she’d caught Brigid and I panicked. James must have overheard us talking and…’

  Debbie said a word that Oliver hoped his children would never learn.

  ‘…I was driving that night, wondering what to do, when I saw her walking alone. I stopped and got her into the car. She didn’t want to come, so I hit her.’

  (But I was a girl. Boys aren’t supposed to hit girls.)

  ‘But I hit her too hard and she died. I didn’t mean it. I just wanted to find out what she knew. It was an accident.’

  Beth was crying. Monty whined. Oliver glanced at James who stood rigidly, his hands clenched so tightly the colour had drained from his knuckles. Oliver shuffled around a fraction so he had a better view.

  (I can watch him.)

  You can only see where I see.

  (Then look at him.)

  That’s too obvious.

  (So?)

  Look, can I just concentrate on this please.

  ‘What did you do with the…?’ he asked gently.

  ‘I took her down to the beach, waded out as far as I could and let the tide do the rest.’

  (But I could swim.)

  You were dead.

  (Oh, yeah.)

  ‘You son of a bitch,’ Beth said, wiping her cheeks.

  She started across the lawn and Jasper shrank back as far as he could. Oliver moved to intercept her.

  ‘You’ve waited forty years, a few more minutes won’t hurt.’

  She began to go around him then paused. Monty took an extra couple of steps, and Jasper’s face was fixed on the growling dog.

  (It’s okay, Monty.)

  The dog stopped growling but remained standing, ready to leap or bark or bite, whatever the situation called for.

  ‘You found out what your dad had done and decided to tidy up,’ Oliver said to James.

  ‘That’s what I’ve been doing all my life. He does something stupid and I clear it up. But that’s not what happened. Not exactly. When he went to Auckland I stayed here with some friends.

  (He didn’t have any friends.)

  ‘I snuck out of school that day, got Dad’s car keys and took the car for a spin. It was pure luck I saw Brigid. I thought I’d scare her a bit, after all the trouble she caused me, and him. I didn’t mean to hit her, but she didn’t get out of the way. She just froze, and I twisted the wheel but it was too late. She was small and didn’t make much of a dent in the body of the car, so I took the car home and pretended none of it happened. I was scared that someone would find out. Waited and waited for the police to come knocking, but they never did. Do you want to know the funniest part?’

  (How is Brigid dying funny?)

  ‘Neither of them had to die, because Brigid didn’t see anything. I made it up, and told Barbara. I was just pulling a joke on Dad, making him think that someone might catch him so he’d stop, because he was going to screw everything up, just like he’d done in Auckland.’

  ‘That’s pretty messed up,’ Oliver said.

  ‘I was twelve, how much logic do you expect?’

  ‘You realise that you’re both going to prison now,’ Beth said.

  Oh crap.

  (What?)

  This is the point in the movie when he pulls out a gun.

  James reached into his jacket pocket and drew out a large carving knife.

  (You were wrong.)

  My mistake, he’s not going to shoot us to death, he’s going to stab us to death. So much better.

  (Really?)

  No it’s… Great, I’m going to die explaining sarcasm to an eight year old.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ James said.

  (See, he’s not going to kill us.)

  That’s not…

  He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

  TWENTY NINE

  James stepped forward.

  Beth said softly, ‘Monty, get him.’

  Monty began barking and ran at Jasper.

  Debbie screamed inside Oliver’s head, which was painful and distracting.

  Monty heard the scream and skidded to a halt, looking around him.

  Oliver pulled his phone out and threw it hard at James’s head.

  Beth tried to redirect Monty and the dog spun around and came straight for Oliver, saliva-covered teeth bared.

  James was so focussed on Barbara that he didn’t see the phone in time to duck and it hit him directly on the cheek.

  (Monty, stop!)

  Oliver was already in motion, half his body lunging at James, the other half frantically trying to avoid Monty. The result was an untidy sprawl on the ground and a possible pulled back muscle.

  (Monty! Not Oliver. That man!)

  But James, having seen his nice, orderly killing scene descend into chaos, was sprinting down the driveway. Oliver scrambled to his feet, and took off after James.

  (Monty, come on.)

  ‘Call the cops,’ Oliver shouted over his shoulder.

  By the time he rounded the side of the house James was already at the gate. As Oliver reached the gate James disappeared around the corner of the street. Oliver could hear his own heavy breathing, and feel every piece of junk food he’d eaten in the last six months. There was a time when he could have chased James down before the man even got to the end of the driveway. Now Oliver was struggling to keep up with a man thirteen years older than him.

  To rub it in Monty trotted next to him with his tongue hanging out like he was barely breaking a sweat.

  (Do dogs sweat?)

  They do it through their…can’t talk…focussing on breathing.

  (Okay. You know there used to be this shortcut just up here, if he keeps going you’ll be able to come out…it’s just there!)

  Oliver ran straight past an almost invisible path that lead behind some houses.

  Sooner…next…time.

  At the next corner James careered into a fence and the carving knife went flying.

  Oliver was slowly gaining, but the man was still ten metres ahead when he turned into the car park leading to the beach.

  Send…dog.

  (Monty, get him!)

  Monty effortlessly accelerated. Oliver decided it was a good thing he was too puffed for swear words, and just as James’ feet touched the sand the dog launched himself into the man’s back. He went tumbling over, scrambled and rolled to his knees by the time Oliver ran up.

  Monty barked and growled at the same time and James fell back again.

  ‘Get him away from me.’

  Oliver and Monty took turns panting, until finally he could form words again. ‘He’s not my dog. Doesn’t listen to me.’

  (Listens to me though.)

  ‘Look, I told you, it was an accident. That’s what I’ll say in court. No one will believe anything other than that.’

  ‘But was it? She’d gotten you in trouble, you’d lied in retaliation, which led to your father killing Debbie, and you just happened to kill Brigid with a car? Courts don’t like coincidences, Oliver said quietly.

  James fell silent.

  ‘Why did you tamper with the brakes on Graeme Wilson’s cable car?’

  James lay back on the sand, as if hoping it would swallow him up. ‘I heard he was poking around. He almost caught me back then. He asked some questions that got pretty close to the truth, but I was twelve. And no one suspects a kid of murder. I couldn’t risk it happening now.’

  ‘And Nick?’

  ‘He cared for the girls. Not in a creepy way, but still genuinely regretted what happened to them, so when you asked him your questions
and he found my name he rang to accuse me. Didn’t know anything for certain, just spouted off about justice and such. I couldn’t risk him either. I have a career, a wife.’

  ‘And a son,’ Oliver said.

  ‘Yes, a son.’

  In the distance Oliver heard sirens approaching.

  ‘How did Brigid get the earring?’

  ‘That was stupid bad luck. I found it in the footwell of the passenger seat in Dad’s car the day after Debbie went missing. I didn’t know who it belonged to, I thought it might be hers.’ He jerked his head towards Barbara. ‘So I threw it away. At the crossroad. I don’t know what happened to it.’

  (We do. Brigid must have found it and she gave it back to me.)

  James sat up. ‘I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars to say I got away. Cash. No one will know except you and me.’

  (And me.)

  ‘And Debbie, and the dog.’

  James laughed. ‘Debbie’s dead and the dog can’t talk.’.

  A siren came closer and there was the sound of tires screeching to a halt and doors slamming.

  ‘Debbie,’ Oliver said.

  (Monty, get him!)

  The dog lunged forward and bit into James’s leg. He let out a howl of pain as two policemen appeared next to Oliver.

  Debbie.

  (Monty, let him go.)

  Reluctantly the dog let go and slunk back to sit beside Oliver.

  ‘That’s one well trained dog, sir,’ one of the officers said.

  ‘Yes,’ Oliver replied, scratching the top of the dog’s head. ‘When he wants to be.’

  THIRTY

  The final day of school ended at lunchtime because the teachers wanted to go for a boozy lunch.

  When Oliver picked his children up they were ecstatic to see Alice sitting in the passenger seat. Reed was a little confused that they were heading towards the cemetery, as it wasn’t a Sunday or a deceased relative’s birthday. Oliver decided that over the Christmas vacation he would tell Reed a diluted version of the hitchhikers. It seemed a little unfair that he was the only one of the family who didn’t know.

  Amanda still hadn’t texted him with any message and now that he had the time to consider it, he was very worried about her.

  (So how does this work?)

  They stood in front of her headstone.

 

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