by Toni Pike
The protestors gasped in surprise at my arrival and fell silent, curious about what I would say. I glanced around but Joshua was nowhere to be seen.
I tapped the microphone and began to speak. “I understand why you’re angry,” I said.
“You bet we’re angry,” said the man with the beanie.
“There is no doubt about it – we need more treatment options for mental illness,” I continued. “I want to announce today that we will be funding ten more live-in treatment centres in all the major capital cities, utilising existing buildings so that capital expenditure is reduced. We’re also working on a package of measures with the goal of ensuring that everyone with a mental health issue is able to access the treatment and help they need.”
Suddenly I saw Joshua in the distance, retreating down the path that led to the road. For one moment he turned and our eyes met, but then he continued on his way.
My thumping heart slowed down and I hoped never to see him again.
But that hope was in vain.
***
I had three separate email addresses. The first one was available to the general public, and my staff members were generally able to deal with the streams of incoming messages and write replies on my behalf. The second one was my work email, for contacting colleagues and anyone else in an official capacity.
The third one was my personal email address. Rather than use my own name, I tried to hide my identity by using a mix of letters and numbers, and that had proved to be a successful strategy. That’s why I so surprised by what happened next.
Although it was my private email, Ranjit checked it every day because I was so frantically busy. So it was not surprising that he was the first person to see it, and he burst into my office one day in early September. “You’ve had a strange email but maybe it’s a joke,” he said.
He walked over as I opened my personal inbox and saw the one line message.
Meet me at that lonely place.
The account name was eightymile@.
I knew who it was from and my blood ran cold. Joshua’s release from jail had not been in the news and I hadn’t told anybody. Not even Letitia knew about it, and I could tell that Ranjit didn’t suspect a thing.
I wanted to keep it that way.
“I don’t know who it is,” I replied. “Probably some spam – I’ll just delete it.”
With a tap of my finger, the message vanished and Ranjit went back to his desk.
That email danced a tango with my brain all night and I longed for Joshua to stay away. Every sound in the house made me jump for fear that it was him, broken through the security barrier and come to take his revenge.
At two o’clock in the morning, while Letitia breastfed our little son, a dark thought jumped into my mind.
If we met at that remote location it would be easy to make him disappear for good, just like my own parents. My life was so much better after that, and I realised there was a permanent solution to my only remaining problem.
The next day there was another email at ten o’clock, but luckily I read and deleted that before Ranjit had a chance to see it.
Meet me at that lonely place beside the beach.
Tell me when you can be there by yourself.
That message seemed so much worse than the previous one, a direct demand with precise instructions. My stomach lurched at the thought of meeting him face to face – just the two of us after all those years.
I wondered whether ignoring him would be the best approach and he would eventually grow tired of his games. Then I had a better idea.
I drafted a reply, carefully wording it to sound as if another person wrote it. After all, how could he be sure that he had my private email? Perhaps he had sent that same message to hundreds of people, like a form of spam.
You must have the wrong email address. I’m a woman from Rockhampton. Please don’t send me any more messages. Regards, Judy.”
I pressed the send button and told Ranjit that I’d take over monitoring my personal inbox because he already had enough to do.
After that, I checked my inbox dozens of times a day, but there were no more messages. Perhaps he’d wandered off into the outback, or maybe those emails were just meant to scare me. If that was the plan, it had succeeded admirably.
Letitia was not only a full-time mother. She attended an endless round of events either by herself or as my partner, and was patron of more than a dozen charities. Most of them were connected with the health and welfare of women and children. In late August, the Breast Cancer Association invited her to give the keynote address at a fundraising lunch to be held at a hotel in Queanbeyan. She prepared a heart-warming speech and tickets for the event sold out quickly.
Her visit was a great success and even mentioned in the evening news. I asked for the speech to be recorded and, late that night in my study, switched on the screen to watch it. Letitia looked beautiful, chatting to many of the ladies there and embracing some of them. After her speech the camera scanned the audience, which consisted predominantly of women.
And there was Joshua Byrnes, seated right at the back at a table with seven elderly ladies. Frozen in shock, my heart pounded as my breathing rate soared.
My finger slammed down on the pause button. Was it only a man who looked like him? I zoomed in on the face and stared at the blurry image. There was no mistake. He had been only twenty metres away from my wife. Perhaps he had walked up and spoken to her, or even shaken her hand.
With a sense of grim determination, I knew that I had to stop him and protect Letitia.
After a few minutes of thought I composed an email, a response to Joshua with no salutation or signature. Just a message that he would understand.
16th October at ten in the morning. The beach – by ourselves.
I pressed the send button and the email was delivered. I waited for an hour to see if there was a reply before finally giving up and going to bed.
There was no answer for several days, although I checked my inbox constantly. Finally, at four o’clock in the afternoon, there was a one-word response.
Agreed.
A cold chill raced down my spine. My message had been received loud and clear.
Now I had to put my plan into action, but I couldn’t just run off to the other side of Australia. My every move was monitored and reported, watched over by attentive security staff. Somehow, I needed to find an excuse for being in Western Australia, then work out a way to escape and meet with Joshua.
I spent hours plotting, planning and trying to predict everything that could go wrong. It also occurred to me that I might be killed. If that was the case, then I wanted a chance to see Quarry for the last time and visit Kevin and Jane with Charlie in my arms. I also wanted to drop in on Dave Vidovich and, most important of all, I wanted my family to be with me on that final day before I headed into the desert.
Ranjit was surprised the next day when I insisted on a four-day visit to Western Australia in mid-October. “That’s two weeks away,” he said. “Not much time to prepare. What’s inspired this?”
“I’m homesick and I’ve been neglecting that side of Australia lately. And I want Letitia and Charlie with me.”
He was even more surprised that I’d already planned the whole itinerary. We would visit Perth for one day to talk to business leaders and the next day pay a private visit to Lancelin to meet Dave Vidovich and introduce him to Letitia and Charlie. After that, we’d fly up to visit community leaders in Port Hedland and Broome, have a forum for my own constituents and then a private visit to Quarry. I planned to stay at the Quarry Motel for two nights, plenty of time to catch up with old friends and have a one-day break.
There was one more item on my itinerary that I conveniently forgot to mention to anyone. Letitia and I shared all our daily concerns, our successes and failures – everything except the truth about my past, the giant skeletons in my closet. Ranjit was my confidant at work who spent every day supporting and advising me, dotting every i and crossing every t.
But neither of them had any idea about my real plans.
***
Ranjit stayed in Canberra but two junior staffers and our security detail accompanied the three of us on the trip. We flew to Perth in the Air Force VIP jet that was now my normal mode of air travel and were collected at the airport by a fleet of three limousines. I met with community and business leaders while Letitia visited a hospital, a school and a women’s refuge. Her parents were delighted to mind Charlie, and after that she was able to spend some time with them. The day was a great success.
The next morning we paid a private visit to Lancelin, a little beachside town just one hour from the centre of Perth. Dave Vidovich’s house was a small red brick cottage with a cardboard sign over the double garage. Snake Museum – World’s largest collection of toy snakes. Dave raced out to welcome us when our convoy arrived. After twenty-five years he was an old man, with grey hair and decked out in oversize shorts. The tattoos on his arms still glistened but his face was like a lunar landscape, deeply pitted with sun cancer scars.
“Hello, Tyler. So good to see you again after all these years,” he said, shaking my hand.
“It’s thanks to you that Tyler grew up in Quarry,” said Letitia, giving him a hug. “We can never thank you enough. He often talks about you.”
“You do?” asked Dave with an incredulous look.
I patted him on the back. “Yes, all the time – you were a hero that day.”
He was beaming. “Come inside and have a cup of tea. I can’t believe you’re so grown up now. You were in such a mess when I picked you.”
“We wanted to see your snake museum when we heard about it,” said Letitia.
He smiled proudly. “I think you’ll like it.”
We sat at the table and chairs in the small kitchen, had a cup of tea and a slice of cake that was made by the lady next door. The room reminded me of the Carmichael’s house. “I’ve been lonely since my wife died,” said Dave, “but I have my snakes and fishing. That keeps me busy and gives me a reason to get out of bed. You only need one thing to live for, Tyler. I have three sons, they’re all over the state, but they visit sometimes and bring their kids. I’ve got five grandchildren. Would you like to look at the museum?”
“I can’t wait,” I replied.
He took us to one half of the small garage that had been converted into a room lined with old shelves and bookcases. There were toy snakes everywhere, crammed onto every shelf, and in the centre there were five glass cases containing live snakes. “These are my pets,” he said proudly. We spent an hour there and feigned fascination, much to Dave’s obvious delight. Charlie, on the other hand, looked truly captivated by everything he saw and cried with outrage when we said goodbye.
Making the effort to visit him made me feel good about myself. How ludicrous that I could never visit Joshua Byrnes in the same way, to thank him and spend a few hours with him.
We then flew to both Port Hedland and Broome to meet with community leaders. We had four wheel drive vehicles in Broome for transport to Quarry, where we all stayed at the motel that was now owned by a middle-aged couple, Jim and Tilly Baxter.
In our honour, there was a barbecue in the park and everyone in town was there. At dusk, I walked over to the church with my family to visit Kevin and Jane.
Sunlight was filtered through a dusty haze, making the twilight an interplay of red, yellow and orange. We walked behind St Paul’s to the little cemetery, the two well-tended graves with granite headstones. The security detail stayed well back so the three of us could be alone with the Carmichaels. Holding Charlie in my arms, I thought about them and wished that I could really be worthy of their love.
The next morning I woke up at five o’clock, long before anyone else. We had no pre-arranged plans for the day, just rest and relaxation in my favourite town. At least, that is what everyone thought. I showered quickly, but by then Letitia was sitting up in bed to breastfeed.
“You’re up early, Tyler,” she said, bleary eyed and with her auburn hair in a tangled mess. I gazed at the two people I loved for at least a minute, knowing that I might not come back.
“Would you mind if I go for a drive by myself?” I asked. “I should be back later today. I want to think about my parents and the time I was alone out here.” I could almost feel my nose growing longer like an Australian version of Pinocchio.
Letitia held out her free arm and I rushed over to kiss her. “Of course I don’t mind,” she said. “We’ll be fine here, it will be nice to have a quiet day.”
I left without looking back and headed towards one of the vehicles. There were two men in the security detail standing guard, including the officer in charge, Stan Wickowski.
I tried to look calm. “Morning, Stan. You’re not going to like this, but I want to go for a drive by myself, no one with me or following me.”
“You can’t do that, sir,” he said.
“I’ll sign something to take full responsibility, but right now I need some time alone to think. Please don’t try to follow me.”
He looked hesitant and I had to argue for five minutes, but I stood my ground and he finally agreed. “There’s a radio and GPS in the car if you need help,” he said.
“No problems. I’ll be sure to contact you at the first sign of an invasion force – and I’ll be back later today.”
Chapter 14
I drove at high speed but pulled over after thirty minutes to switch off every radio, GPS and security device in the car, determined not to be found. From there, I travelled several hours into the desert, wondering if there would be another rebirth for Tyler Thompson in the middle of nowhere.
The sound of waves could be heard lapping on the shore before the ocean appeared, a dull roar rising up from the wide expanse of Eighty Mile Beach. It was easy to find the spot where we had our campsite all those years ago. I recognised the sand dunes and the outcrop of red rocks – my hiding place when Joshua first arrived.
There was no sign of anyone else around. I parked the car and slowly opened the glovebox. Inside was a semi-automatic pistol, the last line of defence for my security detail. I sighed with relief as I ran my fingers over it. But then I reminded myself that I was the Prime Minister and that I should be able to outsmart him. I could negotiate and compromise to solve my problems like a grown man.
I closed the glovebox, leaving the gun inside.
Flies buzzed around me as I stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards the beach. The heat beat down on my skin. Although I knew the precise spot of the campfire there was no sign of it after all those years or the spot where my parents lay with blood oozing from their skulls. The sand was still as hot as hell and that reminded me of how I feared my father.
“Hello, Tyler, you’ve grown up,” said a man’s voice, kind and gentle. I looked up in alarm as Joshua Byrnes stepped out from behind a rock. He smiled as if he was pleased to see me.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “Hello, Joshua, how are you?” I asked.
He gave me a blank look for a moment, but then words started to pour out of his mouth. He stood there giving me a thirty-minute monologue about the last twenty-five years of his life. He described how he followed my career from his jail cell, watched my election night victory on television, travelled to Queanbeyan after his release and moved into a boarding house. Then he talked about his expertise with computers.
I’d been completely wrong about him. I imagined him in jail, isolated from the outside world, unable to hear the news about me. When he left prison I thought he’d head into the outback, resume his old lifestyle and be far away from me.
But now the reality struck me. He knew as much about me as anyone could.
Finally he stopped talking and stared at me in silence for two long minutes. He seemed to age by a hundred years.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
“Tyler, you took my life away.”
An adrenaline rush made my heart rate soar. I needed to do o
r say something. “You saved me and gave me a whole new life,” I said.
“Remember that night, when I first met you?”
“I think about it all the time.”
He gave a wry smile. “Funny you should say that – I think about it too. Right here, by the light of the campfire. You’re good with words, Tyler, you make wonderful speeches, but I need recompense for losing the best years of my life. You’re lucky to have a wife and child.”
“It’s only fair that I should give you some money, I have a good income,” I said. But he didn’t respond so I filled the void with more words. “I’m happy to give you that help.”
He scowled and shook his head. “I’ve never wanted money. All I wanted was to be free. Don’t you understand that?”
“I realised that when I left you and ran towards the truck that day. I know you were pleased to be rid of me.”
“I missed you when you left.”
“So what would you like me to do now?”
“I want you to tell the truth. The chaplain in jail told me that the truth would set me free. But people still think I’m a murderer.”
“My wife will be devastated if I tell the truth. It’s not her fault. I’ll lose my marriage and career. You’ve already paid the price for that crime but I’m willing to help you any way I can. There’s no need for you to constantly follow me.”
“All I want is for everyone to know the truth.”
My head was spinning. Words would never change his mind and my life would be destroyed. “Wait here, Joshua. I have something I want to give you.”
“I’ve been waiting twenty-five years.”
He turned to face the ocean as I raced back to the vehicle and jumped in the passenger seat. Opening the glovebox, I put my hand around the revolver. There was only one solution. This would put an end to all my problems and I could say that I was defending myself.
I tore back and aimed the gun at his back, just as he swung around. Holding the gun straight out in front of me, I was ready to pull the trigger.
Joshua could have tried to run away, but he stood still as if he was stuck to the sand. “Shoot me, no one will know,” he said. “You destroyed the last twenty-five years of my life, you might as well destroy the rest.”
