The Man in the Water

by David Burton

  The ring of the house phone cut through their investigation. They didn’t move; they kept staring at the boots.

  Shaun’s mum’s voice, dry and pre-recorded, came from under a pile of letters on the kitchen bench.

  ‘You’ve reached Shaun and Linda, please leave a message.’

  A beep, then his mum again. ‘Shaun, pick up, please. You there?’

  Shaun picked up the phone. His mother didn’t say hello.

  ‘Why isn’t your mobile working?’

  He hadn’t looked at his phone since they’d run home, and he launched into a lie about the battery being flat, but she stopped him. ‘Listen, Tom’s just pulled out of his shift. I need you to come down and unpack this fruit delivery, okay?’

  ‘What? Mum, no.’

  ‘Love, no arguing. I’ve got a steady stream of customers here and I need another pair of hands. I’ll see you in a bit.’ She hung up.

  Shaun glanced at Will, who’d lost interest in the boots and had crashed onto the couch. He was scrolling through his phone. ‘Bad news?’ he said.

  ‘I’ve got to go help Mum unpack a fruit delivery at the IGA.’

  Will nodded lazily. ‘Well, hang on to the boots. Might reveal something eventually.’

  How were they going to magically turn up more evidence? Shaun shoved the boots into the back of his closet nonetheless.

  As Shaun locked the front door, Will stood on the footpath, still steadily flicking through his phone.

  ‘There’s nothing on the news,’ he said. ‘Nothing online. No-one’s even been reported missing.’

  ‘Maybe he was a FIFO, not a local. Maybe no-one here knew him.’

  The town was surrounded by camps that supplied workers for the mines. Local guys who worked on the mines stayed at the camps on the days they were on shift, but they called the anonymous men who occupied the campsites FIFOs: fly-in fly-outs. They came from across the country to work seven-day shifts, and then flew out back home again. The town was a place to work, not to live.

  ‘If he was a FIFO, then he could be from anywhere,’ said Will. ‘Brisbane. Sydney. Even Singapore. And you saw him yesterday?’

  Shaun nodded. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Monday. Shift swap-over for the drag-line operators. So he gets off his shift and something happens.’

  Shaun was still thinking. ‘But that means no-one would report him. They’re not expecting him back at the site. He would have been scheduled to fly back home, probably last night. His family’s only just realising that he hasn’t made it back. Maybe they haven’t reported it yet.’

  Will flashed a grin. ‘But that’s a lead. We can go to the airport and see who didn’t make it onto a flight last night.’

  Shaun rolled his eyes. ‘How are we supposed to do that?’

  ‘Leave it with me. You should go.’

  ‘Don’t do anything without me, okay? We can go to the airport tomorrow after school.’

  ‘That’s ages away. The murder suspect could be anywhere by then.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll call you tonight, all right?’

  Shaun ran across the road to the IGA, turning back once to see Will walking towards the other end of town, deep in thought.

  For the moment, Shaun was winning. He had someone on his side and a lead in a murder investigation. He couldn’t wait to present damning evidence to Constable Charlie. Megan would fall in love with him, and he’d be able to earn money as a celebrity. His mum could quit her job. Finally, life might start to go right again.

  The IGA was dim and cool. Shaun looked over at his mum behind the counter, busily beeping groceries from a full trolley through the check-out, her best customer-service smile stretched across her exhausted face. There was a long line. There always was at this time on a Tuesday. Locals knew when the weekly fresh produce arrived, and it was limited. The little that his mum had managed to unpack was just about gone.

  Without saying hello, Shaun made his way to the back. Then he took a waxy cardboard box from one of the pallets and opened it. The smell made his brain tingle. Leafy fresh herbs, still dimpled with water, all bright green. Mint, basil, coriander and parsley. He sorted them into small wild piles and put them on the shelves. Under the store’s flickering fluoro lights, they didn’t look as good. But it didn’t matter. They’d all be gone in a few hours.

  He set to work unpacking pumpkins, potatoes, broccoli and beans. There was even half a box of mangoes that were green, hard and expensive, but he still lifted them up and inhaled deeply. They smelt like they were from far away. He imagined the beach – hot sand under his toes, and the cool smack of salt water. He only went to the coast a few times a year, if he was lucky. His father’s parents lived down on the Sunshine Coast.

  His phone buzzed. It was a message from Will.

  We should go to the airport tonight. When do you finish?

  It was already half-past five. He knew his mum wouldn’t let either of them go home without unpacking everything. The produce needed to be put into the store where it was cooler, otherwise everything would rot in the boxes overnight. Shaun would be lucky if he got out by seven, but then she would insist on dinner.

  Can’t, he typed. I won’t be free until after eight, and I think the final flights out are at seven.

  He thought about the possibilities as he worked. He could skip school tomorrow. Will would be up for it. But even if they managed to, what were they going to do? Just go up to the counter and ask someone? Would the airport give out information on passengers?

  His phone buzzed again.

  We can try to get into their computers, Will wrote.

  Great. Now Will wanted to hack computers at an airport. He pictured himself in an interrogation room, Charlie beaming down at him. He’d be captured and tried for terrorism.

  How? Shaun asked.

  He could do some basic coding, and he spent most weekends playing video games, but he didn’t know much about hacking. The airport would have more than enough security to keep a couple of high school kids from being able to pirate their way in.

  No reply. Will was full of it. There was no way he knew how to hack the airport’s computers.

  His thoughts were interrupted when his mum met him out the back. She looked tired, her blonde hair tied into a loose ponytail.

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ she said. Shaun looked up from his box of apples. Her eyes were inspecting him. ‘What’s been going on?’

  Shit. His mum knew something.

  ‘Nothing.’

  She took a cigarette from the carton in her pocket, lit it and leant against the wall. She took in a long, steady breath.

  Shaun tried to avoid her gaze.

  ‘I had an interesting customer in here today, with an interesting story. Constable Charlie.’

  Shaun’s chest dropped. He tried desperately to give nothing away, but his mind was spinning.

  ‘He said that you visited him yesterday. Said you’d seen a dead body in the lake, and you’d both gone to look and there was nothing there.’

  She exhaled a long grey cloud.

  Shaun looked up.

  ‘Is that right?’ she said.

  The words tumbled out. ‘Yeah, but it was real, Mum, I swear. And I don’t know what happened but the body was gone and then that dickhead didn’t believe me and—’

  She raised her hand and he stopped talking.

  Bloody Charlie. Now his mum was involved.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘You’ve got enough to worry about.’

  She moved towards him, her gaze fixed and hard. ‘Did you really see a dead body?’

  Shaun wasn’t sure why, but he felt like crying.

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Don’t you believe me?’

  Then she came over and hugged him tight. She smelt
like sweat, and he could taste the smoke from the cigarette.

  ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘You and I are going to finish this stuff, then we’ll go home and eat. And tomorrow I’m going to ring the hospital and get you in to see someone.’

  Shaun pulled away. ‘What?’

  ‘Just someone you can talk to.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘A counsellor or a psychologist or someone.’

  Shaun felt himself getting angry. ‘You think I’m mental?’

  ‘No, no, no. But I think you should talk to someone, Shaun. You’ve been through a lot with your dad.’

  ‘I don’t need a shrink, Mum. I’m not lying. The body was there.’

  ‘Okay, love, okay.’

  She turned her attention to the pallet and unloaded boxes onto the dock floor for sorting.

  He couldn’t even get his mum to believe him.

  His phone buzzed.

  It was Will, of course. I’ve got it sorted. We’ll wag class tomorrow morning. I’ll meet you outside your place. We’ll go straight to the airport.

  It was only eight in the morning, but the sun was already steaming the two boys alive as they pedalled out of town. When they got to the airport they were sweating.

  The airport was a large tin shed surrounded by nothing, built by one of the mining companies and the council a few years ago. It was off the main highway, an hour’s bike ride out of town. Shaun could remember it being built. It had been big news. That was when the boom was on and the town was busier. The flights were hellishly expensive, and they got cancelled and re-routed constantly.

  They left their bikes at the entrance and went straight to the water fountain by the coffee counter. The building was bustling because a flight had just landed. A hundred or more people stood waiting. They were city folk, tidy and clean-cut, and a few dozen hi-vis workers about to start their shifts. Shaun looked up and checked the screens above him. This flight had come from Brisbane.

  Will was so excited he could barely speak. Shaun was grateful for the crowd, because it was easier for two boys in school uniforms to disappear in the mass of people. Nevertheless, he felt conspicuous. There were no teenagers around here except for a young woman behind the car hire counter.

  ‘SAR-AH!’ Will cried, waving madly. There was a line of men waiting for their rentals, so Sarah looked up and rolled her eyes before returning to her work.

  ‘That’s my cousin,’ said Will, turning back to Shaun. ‘She’ll be able to help us out.’

  This was exactly what Shaun had feared. Will’s brilliant plan was not so brilliant after all.

  ‘I thought you said she worked at the airport?’ Shaun said.

  ‘Yeah, der-brain, she’s right over there.’

  ‘Yeah, but I thought you meant working for the airline or something, not the hire car company.’

  ‘What’s the difference?’

  ‘A hire car company isn’t going to have flight details.’

  ‘Yeah, they will, they have to. They’ll have bookings and that.’

  Shaun shook his head and looked at his phone: 9.05. He was supposed to be in Tenner’s class right now. He felt a knot of panic in his stomach. What if Tenner called his mum? It would give her another reason to worry about him and send him to a psychologist.

  It had felt good to pedal away from the house this morning, keeping the secret of his investigation from her. All he needed was one solid bit of evidence and she’d be convinced, for sure. Anything to prove that he wasn’t making it up.

  But as the line at Sarah’s counter became shorter, his hope faded. There was no chance that a hire car company would have details of a departing flight. It didn’t make sense. Not unless the dead guy was planning to drop off a hire car before he left. But there was no car nearby when Shaun found him.

  As the crowd dissolved into the hot air, Will approached the desk.

  ‘Cuz, I’m busy,’ said Sarah. ‘What do you need?’

  ‘Nice to see you too.’ Will flashed a grin.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be in school?’

  The knot in Shaun’s stomach tightened.

  ‘We’ve got an assignment,’ said Will. ‘We’re researching like, local places and that. Finding out how stuff works.’

  ‘So, you’ve come to the airport?’

  ‘Yeah, for the assignment. And to see my big cuz, of course.’

  Sarah’s eyes flicked to Shaun. His throat was dry.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, picking up a handful of keys from under the counter. ‘Well, you’re here and you’ve seen the airport and me. So, why don’t you go back to school? I’m busy. I’ve got another flight coming in half an hour and a bunch of cars to get ready.’

  Will leant on the counter. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘How do you know there’s another flight coming in?’

  Sarah frowned. ‘Because I know from the schedule.’

  ‘Yeah but, like, what happens with the schedule? Has it got names on it and stuff? This is the assignment. I gotta get something back to my teacher. Come on, cuz.’

  ‘I really don’t have time.’

  ‘Pleeeeeeease?’ Will sprawled across the counter, stretching his body and smiling wide.

  ‘I’ll answer a few questions, then you have to go, okay? I’m serious, I’ve got work.’

  ‘Thank you!’

  ‘So, I arrive for my shift, and I get a schedule from the company about incoming flights. Most people book their car before they get here, so there’s also a list of names and bookings, but I’ve got to be here for all the arrivals in case someone walks up and wants a car.’

  Will nodded as if every word was gold. Shaun rubbed his eye and it stung. This was useless.

  ‘And what about departing flights?’ Will said.

  ‘Departures are easy. The driver just drops the keys in this box.’ She pointed to a large metal box with a slot that was nailed to the side of the counter. ‘I don’t even have to be here.’

  Will nodded appreciatively, but Shaun knew he was stuck.

  ‘Okay, um,’ Will looked back at him, ‘was there anything else we needed to ask?’

  Shaun felt a surge of anger. That was it? The whole of Will’s plan?

  ‘Um,’ Shaun started, ‘is there, like, I don’t know, a document or something that shows you what cars you’re expecting back?’

  Sarah frowned again. ‘Yeah. The booking summary. That’s a very specific question.’

  Shaun shrugged. ‘I was just curious.’

  ‘Specifically curious,’ said Will, being not at all helpful. ‘Can we have a look at that document maybe? We need to be able to show evidence that we’ve been somewhere, you know.’

  Sarah shifted her weight. ‘What class is this for anyway? I don’t remember anything like this when I was at school. I can just give you a brochure or something.’

  ‘Nah,’ Will snapped. ‘It’s gotta be something official that, like, proves we spoke to someone. One of those schedules or booking forms sounds good.’

  When Sarah looked at Shaun again, he could feel her eyes burning into him.

  ‘You two are up to something.’

  ‘Nah, cuz!’

  ‘I don’t really care,’ she said. ‘But I can’t just give you documents about bookings. There are privacy laws and stuff.’

  ‘Not for old documents,’ said Will. ‘Like just give us schedules for the past week, or the last couple of days. Pleeeeeeeeease?’

  Sarah almost laughed, and then she looked at Shaun. He offered a gentle smile, and he watched Sarah’s face change. It was the same look that everyone tended to give him in town: sadness and pity.

  ‘Fine,’ she said.

  They pulled into the chip shop on the edge of town, both still sweaty from the ride.

  ‘Froze
n Coke?’ Will said.

  Shaun nodded.

  Sarah had printed the document off for them and they’d bolted. Shaun was dying to have a closer look at it.

  By the time Will got the drinks, Shaun had found a table and spread out the half-dozen precious pages. Shaun was pleased to find there were no familiar faces in the shop. The middle-aged woman behind the counter had barely looked up from the register as she punched in their order.

  ‘Okay,’ Will breathed. ‘So, Sarah’s given us the pick-ups and drop-offs from the past four days.’

  Shaun nodded, sipped the icy sweet blackness, and felt himself coming back to life after the ride.

  ‘These,’ Will said, stabbing at a couple of pages in the middle of the table, ‘are from Monday, the day you saw the body.’

  Shaun looked at the first page. He knew instantly that the scheduling system was crap. It was an Excel spreadsheet that was broken and convoluted. Several cells said ERROR, while others had abbreviations that were filled with nonsense. And everything had a blurry look, as though the spreadsheet was being seen through slightly wonky glasses.

  ‘Why does it look like that?’ he said.

  ‘Because it’s a scan. They must print the schedule in the morning, and then write on it throughout the day. Then they scan that document back into the system. Look.’ Will pointed to several handwritten notes across some of the other pages. They said things like PAID, or FUEL EMPTY.

  ‘Look,’ he said again, putting a page in front of Shaun. Written in an uneven scrawl on the margin was a rushed note.

  Ret. early – SCOTTS 839 LZE

  ‘Is that a note from Monday?’ Shaun said.

  ‘Yep. Someone returned their car early.’

  Shaun grabbed the page. ‘Could be the killer. Wanted to get out of town quick.’

  Will took a thoughtful slurp. ‘Maybe. But Scotts is the company. So we don’t have a name.’

  Of course. Scotts Coal Australia was the name of the company that ran one of the biggest mines in the region: Rosewood Mine.

  He checked the other pages. ‘Scotts is all across the schedule.’ He started counting. ‘Four … five … six times. They’re dropping off and picking up cars constantly.’