Dead Dry Heart_A psychological thriller

by Toni Pike

  Inside was a middle-aged man with a balding pate. I stopped as my friends disappeared around the next corner. Then I found the courage to speak. “Excuse me, are you Mr Slade?” I asked.

  He looked up and smiled. “Yes, I believe I am, and who am I speaking to?”

  “Tyler Thompson, sir, I’m visiting from Western Australia.”

  “That’s one of my favourite states. I’m from Melbourne.” He stood up and walked over to shake my hand. “Are you with the school group?”

  “Yes, but I wanted to speak to you privately.”

  I couldn’t believe that I’d just said that.

  He looked surprised. “Did you – and what would you like to talk about?”

  “Could you give me any advice about becoming a politician?”

  “Is that what you’d like to be?”

  “I think so. In fact, I’m sure I do. I’d like to work here one day.”

  “There’s quite a few pointers I can give you about that,” he said. “If you want to do something worthwhile in politics, then first of all you need to join a political party, like my party – the Freedom Party. You also need to get involved in community service. Meet as many people as you can and learn about leadership, public speaking and the political process. Try not to make enemies, because you never know when you might need someone’s help.”

  His words inspired me as if they were a beacon lighting the way for my future. “How old do I have to be to join the Freedom Party?” I asked.

  “Sixteen is the minimum age.”

  “I can join in a few months, then,” I said, thrilled to think that my political life could start so soon.

  He took out a business card. “That’s excellent, Tyler. Here’s my card, feel free to contact me if you want to talk about anything, and I look forward to seeing you at a meeting one day.”

  “Thank you so much, Mr Slade,” I replied, unable to believe that someone so important had been so nice to me. Thoughts and plans for my future were already swirling in my mind, pushing away the bad memories from my past. It never occurred to me that politics was not the best career for someone with so many skeletons in their closet.

  Mrs Adamson was furious when I finally caught up with my class. I apologised profusely but my mind was in another place, making plans for the next few years.

  Soon after we returned to Perth, Mr McLean arranged for me to start a university course in mathematics in addition to my normal school subjects. That gave me a chance to learn about finance and economics as well as pure mathematics. I joined the debating team to develop my public speaking skills, and our team was soon winning every inter-school competition.

  On my sixteenth birthday I joined the Freedom Party, and during the next school vacation I attended my first local meeting of the party. It was held in Broome, which was two hours from Quarry, but Kevin didn’t mind driving me because he was so proud. “I’m happy to do it, Tyler,” he said, “and besides, you always help us in the motel whenever you’re here.”

  “That’s the least I can do for you and Jane,” I replied. “To me, you’re my real parents.”

  His eyes misted over and he said that he loved me.

  On the way to the meeting, we drove past the courthouse where Joshua’s trial was held. I turned away, suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of shame.

  Before the start of my final year at school, Brian Bertorelli and Gordon Tan both nominated me for the position of school captain. The race was hotly contested, but I planned a campaign and prepared a speech about my ideas for the school. That included a democratic students’ society and a proposal for groups of younger boys to be mentored by older students.

  I walked on stage to present my speech and faced an assembly of the entire school. A knot tightened in my stomach as I wondered what all those innocent young men would think if they knew the truth about me. My speech had enough passion to win an Academy Award and I tried to make eye contact with every student in the room. Afterwards, hundreds of boys burst into applause and rose to their feet. I smiled and waved, but all I could see in the crowd was Joshua’s face, staring at me from his prison cell.

  Without warning, my head began to spin and felt like it would split in two. There was no way that I deserved to win. I should be in prison, or hide from the world and disappear into the outback like Joshua. It was absurd for me to dream of being a politician or any sort of leader. My goal should be to live like a hermit, separate from the rest of the world. All my plans for the future evaporated and vanished like a piece of paper burning to crispy blackness. I prayed that I wouldn’t win.

  There were three other nominees each of whom gave a good speech. The votes were cast after that, and the headmaster needed to endorse the chosen candidate to ensure that the vote was not just a popularity contest.

  I retreated to the bathroom, locked myself in a cubicle and wished that I could disappear.

  But then Brian raced in and yelled at me. “Come on, Tyler, he’s making the announcement. What are you doing in there? This is no time to go to the toilet, unless you’ve got nervous diarrhoea.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right out,” I said, relieved that the ordeal would soon be over.

  All of the nominees stood in the wings with friends gathered around to help us survive the wait. The Headmaster gave a rousing talk that seemed to last forever, recalling the noble history of school captains at Melaleuca College. Finally, it was time for him to declare the winner.

  “Announce it, please,” said Gordon Tan under his breath, twirling his arm in a circle in an effort to speed him up.

  The principal cleared his throat. “Next year’s school captain will be Tyler Thompson.”

  My friends cheered, but I was too shocked to speak. “Tyler Thompson,” said Brian, sticking his face in front of mine to bring me to my senses.

  Despite my doubts, I was thrilled by the victory and set on the path to becoming a politician. My dream would not go away.

  ***

  The Carmichaels flew to Perth to attend my school graduation and stayed for several days to see the sights. The principal met us and we posed for a photo together that was to appear in the school’s newsletter. My final task as school captain was to write an article about my goals for the future. My school days were drawing to a close, but there was one more surprise to come.

  All the parents attended the graduation dinner in the great hall. Dozens of awards were presented, but the last and most important one was Dux of the school. The principal gave one of his long talks about the history of the school. I vowed to always keep my speeches short and sharp, and my mind wandered to plans for the future. Suddenly, he called out my name.

  “Congratulations to Tyler Thompson, the first school captain in our history to also be Dux of the school.”

  I jumped to my feet, excitement washing over me. Everyone applauded as I approached and shook his hand. Kevin and Jane were hugging each other and wiping away tears – and then they clapped with arms raised high.

  They were perfect parents, my dream family that I didn’t deserve. Standing behind them were my mother and father, ghostly figures who looked very angry.

  Joshua Byrnes was in prison for seven years while I was having a wonderful time at school. Sometimes I thought about writing to him to apologise, but chose to do nothing and let him rot in jail. I tried to tell myself that prison life for Joshua would be better than his life in the outback. He would have food, shelter, clothing and even medical care. He would learn new skills and when he was released he could live like a normal person with a house and a regular job.

  Years later, I met him again and he told me the truth about his life in prison – his version of what happened to him. He recited a monologue to me that he had written and repeated to himself a thousand times until every word was memorised.

  “You see, Tyler, I never wanted any trouble – all I wanted was to be left alone after we parted in the desert,” he said. “I was fishing at 6 Mile Creek near Port Hedland, gazing at the water and tryi
ng to forget about you and your parents. The police appeared from nowhere and asked me my name. That was all they needed to arrest me and then drive me all the way to Quarry. I didn’t say one word because I was too stunned to speak and afraid to tell the truth. I couldn’t bear to tell them that you killed your own parents.

  “That was the longest car ride of my life. They put me in a holding cell and locked the door. The next day, I looked up and I could tell that you were staring at me, even though I couldn’t see you. I wondered if they’d found the bodies or uncovered a witness, or if you were also under arrest.

  “They charged me with murder and said they were taking me to Broome Regional Prison. That was the town I once stayed in for a few months, and I’d sworn never to go back again. As we drove away from Quarry, I looked out the tiny window and saw the schoolkids gawping at me from the playground. For a moment I thought I saw you there, and that confused me more than anything.

  “I spent months in prison and then there was the trial with me the star of the show, accused of several murders. Do you know how terrible it feels to be an innocent person accused of a crime? But I couldn’t betray you, Tyler - a young boy with his life ahead of him. The police had not found the grave or the crime scene, and I was not about to give them any clues. I was sure that I’d be released before too long.

  “I saw you one final time on the last day of the trial. You yelled out in court, betrayed me and stabbed me in the heart. All those years in jail, I thought about you constantly and dreamed about my lost life.”

  ***

  The present day

  Canberra

  It’s ten o’clock and I’m still waiting for Letitia and Charlie to come home. Longing to hold them in my arms, even if only for a moment before they kick me out the door. Perhaps they’ll wave one last time as the police drive me away in handcuffs. I won’t be able to wave back but little Charlie will smile and I can hold that memory to play over and over in my head until the day I die.

  All I want is to make sure they’re safe. How could I bear the pain if anything happened to them? They might be almost home and there are just a few more minutes to wait. My story will help to fill in the time and stop me from going completely insane. I don’t want them to find me writhing on the floor, claiming to be Jesus Christ or Napoleon Bonaparte.

  ***

  Eighteen years ago

  Western Australia

  Before we finished school, Brian, Charlie and I took driving lessons in Perth and soon we all had a licence. That felt like a major achievement at the time, and Gordon Tan’s father gave him a Jaguar XK8 sports car to celebrate. I didn’t feel envious because there was no way I would swap his parents with mine, even though they were very nice as well as being wealthy. Kevin said that in the next vacation he would lend me his car one day if I promised to drive carefully.

  I return homed for Christmas, knowing that my schooldays were over and there would be no more returning to Melaleuca College. My mind was firmly focused on the future, but it was exciting to be home for Christmas. I spent time with friends, went swimming in the Quarry Pool and enjoyed some home cooking.

  The sun baked down as summer progressed. The weather was so hot that the icing began to melt on Jane’s legendary Christmas cake and it had to be stored in the fridge. In mid-December, I was at Brian’s place and talked to his mother about choosing Christmas presents for Kevin and Jane.

  “What about a bottle of French perfume for Jane?” she suggested. “Every woman wants some at least once in their lives. My ex-husband bought me a bottle for our first Christmas together. After that it was always practical presents, kitchenware and cookbooks.” Mrs Bertorelli looked very disappointed, so I vowed never to make that mistake with my wife.

  “And what about Kevin?” I asked.

  “It’s much harder to choose a gift for a man,” she replied. “What about a nice wallet? They’re always useful.”

  “You really think he’d like that?”

  “I’m sure he would.”

  Items like that could only be found in Broome and even then I would need some luck. The next day I borrowed Kevin’s car to do some Christmas shopping, promising to drive carefully on the long journey there and back.

  I was intent on enjoying my first solo expedition. The straight road cut through the desert and all the way a strange feeling of excitement rushed over me. I kept thinking about my future and was sure that life could only get better.

  A giant truck roared past and covered the car in red dust, annihilating my view for a moment so that I had to slow down. At that moment a crazy idea jumped into my brain. Perhaps it would be better to leave the Carmichaels and keep on driving until I reached the other side of Australia. No one would know about the murders over there and I would be just another eighteen-year-old. Joshua Byrnes would be far away.

  My sanity returned a few minutes later as I reached the outskirts of Broome. My goal was to find the perfect Christmas gifts and some wrapping paper, but it was exhilarating to be in control of a vehicle and free to do whatever I chose for the day.

  I decided to take a scenic drive around Broome and then do my shopping. First I drove past the beach and admired the view. But after half an hour I passed a sign that made my blood run cold: it indicated the way to Broome Regional Prison. The urge to drive past the facility was too much to resist, so I planned to take one look from a distance and then continue on my way.

  The prison resembled a large school with several grim two-storey buildings dotted around landscaped grounds. Two inmates were mowing the lawn. As if drawn there by some irresistible force, I drove through the gate and stopped in the parking area. It was possible that Joshua had been transferred to Perth or somewhere else. But if he was still there, then perhaps I could ask to visit him, check that he was okay and leave before he had a chance to ask any questions. The sign said that visiting hours were at eleven o’clock so my timing was perfect.

  The corridor seemed almost like a hospital with smooth and shiny surfaces. Birds and lizards were painted on the walls. An overweight guard with a red face searched me before allowing me inside. “It’s good that someone has come to see him,” he said as he patted me down. “Byrnes doesn’t get many visitors. In fact, he doesn’t get any, except for volunteers from the local prison charity. It’s a shame, really, these blokes with no family.”

  “I’m a distant relative, and I was visiting Broome so thought I might drop in. We haven’t met before.”

  “So he does have a relative, after all. Don’t worry, he’s very well behaved. You’ll be quite safe – although I guess he wasn’t like that before he came here.”

  The visitors’ room had several tables and chairs, but there was no one else there that day. I sat down and looked around at the scenes on the wall of lush forests, mountains and hot air balloons – no doubt designed to make the area look more cheerful.

  Then the guard walked in with Joshua Byrnes. He almost seemed to squirm in shock, but then regained his composure and sat opposite me. His long hair was speckled heavily with grey and he looked so much older.

  His face was devoid of expression. “You’ve come to visit me,” he said, and a knot squeezed my stomach.

  “Yes – how have you been?” I asked, wondering if he really recognised me. He seemed withdrawn, the way I was as a child when there was no one to help me.

  “What’s it been like in here?’ I asked.

  “My friend died in his sleep the other day.”

  “Who was he?”

  “The oldest man in the prison. I shared a cell with him. They said he killed three men, so he was never to be released.”

  “Did you like him?”

  “Yes, but everyone else hated him. The other inmates don’t like murderers. He said he was innocent, just like me.” I gulped, knowing that it was my fault Joshua had been locked up inside a hellhole. Now he was nothing like the man I met years earlier.

  I tried to change the subject. “What else do you do in here?”

/>   “I think all the time about a boy I knew. No one thinks that child could commit a crime.”

  I stood up ready to flee. “I think I better leave.”

  “Sit down,” he said. I was too scared not to obey him.

  “Is everything all right over there?” asked the guard.

  “Fine thanks,” I replied, sitting down. “Have you done any courses here, Joshua? I hear they have teachers to help with rehabilitation.” I choked on my words, wondering how I could dare to suggest that he needed to be reformed.

  His face brightened. “I’ve done plenty of computer courses – now I’m quite an expert.”

  He narrowed his eyes and panic gripped me, making me desperate to escape. I jumped to my feet and kept my eyes on him as I retreated out of the room. The guard opened the door and followed me out.

  “Come back here, I haven’t finished talking to you,” yelled Joshua, his eyes bulging. His words reverberated down the corridor as I headed out of the building and straight to the car.

  My breathing rate soared as I turned on the ignition and the car sprang to life. I vowed never to return there. Joshua has been in prison for seven years and he seemed to be losing his mind. There were still eighteen more years of his sentence to be served, and his sanity would probably continue to decline. By the time of his release, if he survived that long, he’d be ready for a transfer to the nearest mental hospital.

  Chapter 8

  The centre of Broome was packed with Christmas shoppers. I found the perfect gifts for Kevin and Jane, admired the decorations in the stores and then strolled along Cable Beach. As I drove back to Quarry, I prayed that my visit to Joshua would remain a secret. He was the only person there who knew my identity at the jail – if he had recognised me. My life could carry on as normal so long as I didn’t think about him any more.