by Toni Pike
“He’s not in a gang,” I said.
“Then he’ll have to stay in prison.”
Kevin and Jane had a surprise for me when I arrived home. Jane did most of the cooking and always made breakfast for the motel guests. But Kevin was the expert on sponge cakes and always won first prize at the Quarry Show each year. He had worked his magic and created a sponge cake for afternoon tea, mouth-wateringly soft with strawberry jam and whipped cream in the middle.
That probably meant that they had some news.
They both looked healthy and there were always some customers at the motel. There had been no trouble at school, so what could be wrong? Perhaps they had found out they couldn’t look after me any more. Or Joshua had told the truth and now the police were coming to arrest me. The sponge cake would be my final treat before heading to jail.
“We have something important to tell you,” said Kevin.
“What is it?” I asked, his words gripping me with terror.
“Joshua Byrnes has been charged with murder,” he said. “They think he murdered your parents, and may have killed that old couple who disappeared about ten years ago. They’ve taken him to the prison in Broome.”
My lower lip trembled. “Has he confessed?”
“No, he hasn’t. Penny Higgins told me that he hasn’t said much at all. But the police are sure that he’s guilty.”
“All he did was talk to us that night. He seemed like a nice man.”
“I don’t understand it either, Tyler,” said Jane. “We don’t know enough about these things, but the police must have their reasons and they must be sure that he did something.”
At that moment I wanted to reveal everything and put an end to all the secrecy. We were enjoying afternoon tea while Joshua was on his way to prison, and I had a chance to put things right.
That night I heard Kevin and Jane talking in the kitchen, so I snuck down the hallway to eavesdrop.
“How do they know that man did anything?” said Jane softly.
“Don’t ask me,” replied Kevin. “I don’t see how he can be found guilty if they don’t have any bodies. The Thompsons left their vehicle and wandered off. Quite a few people have died that way in the desert – it’s such a vast expanse, they don’t always find the remains.”
“Poor Tyler, I hope he cheers up a bit tomorrow. Who knows what horrors he went through in the past. At least now we can look after him properly. Would you like a cup of hot chocolate?”
“That would be very nice, Jane.”
Relief washed over me. They thought Joshua would be set free, so there was no need for me to worry. I tiptoed back to bed and went straight to sleep.
Chapter 6
At lunchtime the next day, I found Mrs Bertorelli in the small library, marking tests while she supervised students. “Yes Tyler, what can I do for you?” she asked.
“I need to find out about criminal law,” I said.
“Criminal law? That’s a serious subject. Is that because of the trial?”
“The police haven’t found any bodies, but they think that man murdered my parents.”
“That must be difficult for you, but I’m sure the police will take care of everything.”
I wanted to burst into tears. “What if he isn’t guilty - could they still send him to jail?”
“He’ll have a fair trial with a judge and jury. A lawyer has to prove he’s guilty and has to convince the jury. If the jury doesn’t think he’s guilty, then he has to be released. That’s called being acquitted of the crime.”
“So if there are no bodies they might acquit him?”
She raised her eyebrows. “I’m not sure. They might have other evidence, or he might confess. Let’s see if we can find a book about our legal system for you to read.”
That was the beginning of my interest in law and politics. I read every book that I could find about criminal law, read newspapers and watched the television news. Often there was a story about the victim of a crime and always, it seemed, the criminal was never given a harsh enough sentence.
That sounded to me like good news for Joshua. He was unlikely to be convicted when no bodies had been found and there was very little evidence. I told myself that he would soon be released.
But my sleep was disturbed by a new nightmare.
Joshua was marched to the gallows and I was standing in the front row. He looked at me in fear as they pushed the black hood over his face, and then the hangman put the noose around his neck and pulled the lever to open the trapdoor under his feet. When his legs stopped kicking and the crowd dispersed, I returned to the Quarry Motel. But the police were waiting for me, and my school friends waved as I headed off to jail.
I would always wake up in a sweat and try to calm down by listening to the sound of Kevin snoring in the next room.
Jane said that dinner time was the best time of day for a chat, to talk about the day and discuss any problems. I finally found the courage to talk to them about my major worry.
“Do you think they might hang Mr Byrnes if he’s convicted of murder?” I asked, pressing some peas onto my mashed potato.
“We don’t have the death penalty any more,” said Kevin. “I think the last hanging in Australia was in 1967.”
“So they won’t kill him?”
“No, only send him to prison,” said Jane. “Some people think we should still have capital punishment for the worst crimes, but the Government would never agree to do that.”
I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Joshua couldn’t be hanged, even if he was convicted. After that, my nightmares become less frequent.
Searching for Peter and Kylie Thompson became a popular pastime in Quarry. Groups of tourists would come to town, stay at the motel and dine at the Royal Hotel, then wander around the desert looking for the bodies. But no one found the gravesite and every day I was sure that the surface would merge even more with the surrounding desert. The murder weapon was lying on the ocean floor, washed clean by the churning waves.
I became the star pupil of Quarry Public School and then it was confirmed that I could stay with the Carmichaels forever. They became my legal guardians and for three months my life was perfect.
That changed when the court case began.
The trial at Broome Courthouse took two weeks. Kevin attended every day the court was in session, leaving early in the morning and returning late at night. He and Jane would discuss every detail in the kitchen, whispering so that they couldn’t be overheard. I begged them to let me go, but they wanted to protect me and told me to only think about my life in Quarry.
Finally, Kevin agreed that we could all go to hear the closing arguments and, if the jury didn’t take too long to reach a decision, we might be able to hear the verdict.
***
The Broome Courthouse was one of the oldest buildings in town, elevated and with a wide verandah. I sat between Kevin and Jane in the public gallery at the back of the courtroom. The jury, seven men and five women, sat in two rows of seats to the right of the judge’s bench. Joshua was in the dock. Towards the front was a bench for the lawyers, who both wore a wig and gown. The defence counsel, sitting to the left, was a middle-aged woman. The prosecutor was a man with grey hair and wire-rimmed glasses.
Joshua’s defence counsel gave him an encouraging look but he turned away. He kept his eyes fixed towards the front, so he didn’t notice that I was there.
The Judge walked in and we all stood up. He was surprisingly young and looked around the room as we all resumed our seats.
The defence counsel stood up to give her closing arguments, and I could hardly breathe as she spoke. “Joshua Byrnes stumbled on a campsite and was horrified at the way the Thompsons were treating their only child, but he left a short time later,” she said. “His only crime, ladies and gentlemen, was spending his life wandering around in the outback, and now he has been accused of a crime he did not commit. A crime with no evidence except for the fact that Peter and Kylie Thompson left their van whe
n the vehicle ran out of petrol, and they have not been seen since.”
She sounded so confident that I was sure everyone would agree with her. I squeezed Jane’s hand and she gave me a shy smile.
Joshua looked back and for the first time he saw me. His jaw dropped, but then he turned around and stared at the jury. Most of them were frowning.
The prosecutor gave his final arguments. “This, my fellow citizens, is a criminal,” he said with a superior tone in his voice. My stomach lurched and I wanted to cry out that they had the wrong man. “Fourteen years ago, this man’s parents died in what appeared at the time to be a murder suicide. A few weeks later, he burnt the house down and went off to pursue a long-term itinerant lifestyle. We believe he’s been in this region, on and off, for quite a few years. Ten years ago an elderly couple disappeared, not far from where the Thompson’s van was found. And now Peter and Kylie Thompson, looking for help after their vehicle runs out of petrol, have vanished without a trace.”
He had been addressing the jury, but then he turned and pointed a finger straight at me. My heart thumped as I waited for him to accuse me of being the killer. “That is their child over there,” he said.
Tears of shame welled in my eyes as I sank down in my seat.
“This man was the only person in the vicinity, and he was identified by their son,” he said. “He claims to have stumbled on their campsite the night before they disappeared. I put it to you that he saw them, he followed them, and then when they needed his help, he murdered them in cold blood and hid the bodies.
One thought was hammering my brain. Yes, he buried the bodies and if the police find out what really happened they’ll drag me away from my home in Quarry and throw me in jail.
I stood up, although Jane and Kevin both tried to stop me. “You killed my parents!” I yelled.
Joshua swung around and stared at me, his face white with shock. “No,” he said, as if he was only speaking to me. Then he turned back to the front and lowered his head.
The judge’s eyes widened and he slammed down his gavel. “Order in the court,” he said with a voice like thunder.
“Murderer!” I shouted.
“No more interruptions in my court,” said the judge, his face reddening. “Take that boy out, he doesn’t need to hear this.”
Kevin and Jane stood up and hustled me outside. We stopped in the corridor and I could tell they were upset. “Those people are doing an important job,” said Kevin “It was rude to yell out like that.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied with tears streaming. I regretted my behaviour more than they would ever know.
“I understand why you’re upset, Tyler,” said Jane. “We shouldn’t have brought you here after all you’ve been through.”
I couldn’t look at either of them. We drove back to Quarry in silence and my tears continued to flow. All the way home I hoped and prayed that the jury would find him innocent. They would set him free so that he could wander the outback and forget all about me.
But I knew that my dreadful words had probably condemned him.
It was almost dark when the town lights appeared in the distance, softened by a haze of red dust. Constable Penny Higgins was waiting for us outside the Quarry Motel and greeted us with a grave face.
“I’m pleased to see you back here safely,” she said, and I noticed that her eyes were red as if she’d been crying. “The jury has reached a verdict, their deliberations only took a couple of hours.”
“Have they announced it yet?” asked Jane as we all walked inside.
“They certainly have. Why don’t we sit down?”
I had no idea what she was about to say, but I felt wild with fear. We went straight to the cosy living room and she blurted out the news. “Joshua Byrnes was found guilty of two counts of first degree murder.”
I bent over and sobbed into my hands. Jane put her arm around me as that one word assaulted my brain. Guilty, guilty, guilty.
***
“It must be true, then, he must have killed them,” said Kevin, shaking his head.
“Yes, Kevin, the jury were convinced,” replied Penny.
I wanted to scream but tried to appear calm. Joshua had helped and protected me and in return I betrayed him.
“It’s over now, Tyler,” said Jane, stroking my back with the palm of her hand. “You can put the past behind you and move on with your new life.”
“Why don’t I make us all a cup of tea,” said Kevin, as if that would cure everything.
“Will they put him in prison for the rest of his life?” I asked.
Penny massaged her chin. “The judge will decide on the prison sentence and make the announcement in two weeks time at a special hearing. He’ll take into account all sorts of things about the case, including the severity of the crime and the prisoner’s background. Sometimes, the sentence isn’t as long as you’d expect.”
My face brightened. “You mean the judge might let him go?”
“It’s possible, but I doubt it.”
I clutched onto that small grain of hope and prayed that he would receive a short sentence, perhaps only a year or two in prison. Then his life could go back to the way it was before he met me.
The sentence was announced two weeks later and the news spreads like a tsunami through Quarry. Brian Bertorelli came running to tell me in the playground at lunchtime.
“That can’t be true!” I yelled at him, just as Mrs Bertorelli marched out of her office and headed straights towards me. My legs went like jelly, buckling under me.
She confirmed the story, and I burst into tears like an overgrown baby, so upset that she sent me home for the rest of the day. Joshua Byrnes was sentenced to twenty-five years in prison.
It was hard to comprehend that he would stay there until he was about sixty years old. I would be in my mid thirties. I was free to lead a normal life while Joshua had to rot in prison. And what would happen if he decided to tell the truth? No one would believe a convicted criminal who was trying to blame a child.
As the months passed, interest in the murders began to decline. Tourists lost interest in searching for the missing bodies. Sometimes, a stranger asked about the murders or a group of young men stayed for a couple of days and went for a hike, hoping to stumble on a rotting corpse or two. But the chance of finding anything declined with every drop of rain that fell on my parents’ grave and every desert breeze that blew.
I was brilliant at maths and English, but also excelled at sport. I was the best cricket player in the school and won every medal in my age group at the annual athletics carnival. You might think that the other kids would resent me, but instead I became the most popular boy in the class, the one everyone wanted on their team. Jane said that I had charisma oozing out of my pores.
Sixth grade was almost over when a letter arrived from Melaleuca College in Perth. Mr McLean, the maths teacher who had been sending me extra work, had exerted his influence and convinced the headmaster to offer me a scholarship, with all my tuition and other costs covered. High School was to start in a couple of month’s time.
Jane and Kevin were thrilled as they explained that I could board at one of the finest schools in the country. Best of all, my friend Brian Bertorelli was enrolled in the same school. His parents were divorced and I’d never met his father, but apparently he was a mining executive and would be paying his fees.
Kevin and Jane hugged me when the time came to leave for school and we all declared that the school term would be over soon and then I’d be back in Quarry for the vacation. All through the first term I thought about them constantly and missed them, but only in secret. Melaleuca College was one hundred years old with historic buildings and a neo-gothic main hall built around a quadrangle. There was a School Sergeant to help keep us boys in line, and he was constantly working to make sure that we kept our hair cut short, our uniforms tidy and didn’t walk across the manicured lawn in the main square.
In the Governor Arthur Phillip Residence Hall there we
re three boys assigned to each bedroom. I shared a room with Brian Bertorelli and Gordon Tan, who soon became one of my best friends. He had been Dux of Melaleuca College Primary School, but in high school I managed to beat him in every subject. My favourite teacher was Mr McLean, the maths teacher who had already helped me. He also coached the athletics team. At the end of my first year, I won the Year Seven academic award and athletics prize, as well as a special medal for achievement in mathematics.
I had physical scars from my childhood, but I invented a story about a bad fall on a bushwalk when I was ten years old. That satisfied the other boys and those marks became like a badge of honour. Every morning in the shower I saw them on my skin and couldn’t help thinking about Joshua and the night my parents died.
I was in an exclusive boarding school while he was in a prison cell. I was free and receiving a wonderful education while his life was in ruins.
Chapter 7
Something happened when I was fifteen years old that had a big impact on my life. The Year Nine students were taken on a three-day excursion to Canberra, Australia’s capital city. I was almost six feet tall by then and said to be quite handsome, with dark wavy hair, grey eyes and a wide smile. More than sixty over-excited boys flew across Australia. That was my first plane flight and everything about it seemed wonderful.
Canberra was stunning with garden suburbs surrounded by bush or farming land, all framed by a backdrop of hills. At the heart was Lake Burley Griffin, a man-made lake edged with parks and grand buildings. We visited all the major sites: the War Memorial, the High Court, the Science Museum, the National Gallery and Government House, where the Governor-General lived. We also stopped outside The Lodge, which was the Prime Minister’s residence.
The highlight of my trip occurred during our visit to Parliament House. That was a massive building constructed within a lawn-covered hill that was crowned with a giant flagpole. “Boys, this is where our politicians work,” said Mrs Adamson, the history teacher.
A guide took us on a tour through the foyer filled with marble columns, the Great Hall, and the Chambers for the Senate and the House of Representatives. She led us along winding corridors past the offices of several politicians, and I began to wonder if I might be able to work there one day. Soon, I was trailing behind the others and noticed one open door that was marked with a familiar name. The Hon Derek Slade MP, Deputy Opposition Leader, Freedom Party.
