The Man in the Water

by David Burton

  ‘You don’t believe that.’

  ‘We’ve got to stay calm,’ said Shaun. ‘Losing our minds won’t do us any good.’

  Shaun’s phone buzzed. ‘You should come back to mine,’ he said, reading the message. ‘My mum says your mum’s at our place.’

  ‘Really? What have those two got to talk about? Like we haven’t got enough reasons to be nervous.’

  Their mothers were on either side of the kitchen bench, each nursing a coffee. Shaun could smell the bitter warmth when he walked in. He’d given a silent final warning to Will in the hallway, mouthing, ‘BE. COOL.’ Will nodded and took a breath.

  They swapped greetings, their mothers smiling, and then the two boys just stood there. Shaun’s head was empty for the first time in days. He couldn’t remember what he normally did when coming through the door.

  Will’s mum snorted and broke into giggles. ‘What’s got into you two?’ she said.

  ‘Nothing,’ Will managed to say. ‘Nothing. We just found out who we’re staying with while we’re in Brisbane.’

  ‘Who?’ said Shaun’s mum.

  Shaun wanted to grab Will and tell him to shut up, but it was no good.

  ‘Henry Simms,’ Will said. ‘He’s Tenner’s brother-in-law.’

  Neither of their mothers made much of a reaction. They certainly hadn’t been filled in on Simms’s potential link to Tyson.

  ‘He’s the safety officer down at the Rosewood Mine,’ Will explained. ‘And I guess we’re just a bit freaked because we know he doesn’t get along with the Grants. Peter especially.’

  ‘Wait.’ Shaun’s mum frowned. ‘He’s not the guy that Peter bashed up the other night, is he?’

  Shaun nodded, quietly amazed that Will had covered up for their mood with such a brilliant, and technically true, explanation.

  ‘Jesus,’ she said, taking a gulp of her coffee. ‘Small towns are a pain.’

  Will’s mum smiled sympathetically. ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘Boys, you don’t have to worry. You will be entirely separate from Megan, and Peter won’t be able to get at you. All right? Mr Tenner will definitely make sure of that.’

  ‘Why would someone like Simms volunteer to take the boys on?’ said Shaun’s mum.

  ‘Scotts has given the school some money, they’re paying for our flights,’ said Shaun. ‘Plus, I guess, the family connection.’

  Will’s mum was holding her mug in both hands. ‘Actually, I think I know who he is. He came into the bank at the start of the week.’

  Shaun raised his eyebrows, paying careful attention. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘He made this massive withdrawal. That’s why I remember. I had to go to the safe.’

  Why would Simms need a load of cash at the start of the week? Who would he owe money to?

  Shaun’s mum must have noticed him piecing the puzzle together. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing. And it’s certainly none of our business.’

  Then Will’s mum started to backtrack. ‘Yes, that’s right. He seemed quite nice, actually. Tall. Moustache. We had a chat about the weather. Probably had to pay a bill from one of the contractors in town. You know what the EFTPOS machines are like out here.’

  The boys nodded, but Shaun’s mind was racing.

  ‘Boys,’ his mum said firmly, ‘listen. It’s nothing. You two should go and work on your speeches. Okay? You’ve got a lot to do. Get some food and get onto it.’

  Shaun nodded, grabbed a couple of muesli bars from the pantry and headed for his bedroom.

  His mum was right about one thing.

  There was a lot of work to be done.

  ‘He was paying someone to take care of the body,’ Will said the second Shaun shut his bedroom door. ‘I guarantee it.’

  Shaun threw his backpack onto the bed. He was struggling to hide a grin. This was a new clue.

  ‘But who, though? And why? Why kill Tyson in the first place? It’s the same questions we’ve had all along. But now we know he had a huge wad of cash early in the week.’

  ‘Okay, it’s something,’ said Will. ‘I could’ve asked my mum more.’

  Shaun rolled his eyes. ‘Are you kidding? My mum’s already suspicious about us snooping around. If we asked them anything else she would’ve shut it down. Hard. Maybe even have stopped us going to Brisbane and staying with Simms.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Will. ‘So, you want to stay with him now?’

  ‘Like I said, it’s an opportunity. We can ask him stuff.’

  ‘Like an interrogation?’

  ‘No, we don’t want him to get his guard up. Tenner’ll be there. But we can ask about Tyson, and about their relationship. That would help us get a motive.’

  Will couldn’t stand still. ‘Crap,’ he said. ‘I mean, this is like real undercover detective work, isn’t it?’

  It was hard not to catch onto Will’s excitement. ‘Simms might already be onto us,’ he said. ‘There’s gotta be another reason why he volunteered to let us stay.’

  ‘Do you reckon we’re in danger?’ said Will.

  Shaun answered honestly. ‘I don’t know.’

  The next day was Friday. Shaun and Will secretly texted each other while they were in class, and met up in the breaks to talk through their thoughts.

  Will had googled possible cures for poisoning, and how to defend yourself from a vicious knife attack. Shaun struggled to believe that Simms would do something so obvious, but he wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. He turned over the messy tangle of clues in his mind. He wrote down the timeline of Peter’s attack on Simms in the back of his maths notebook. He googled Guinness, trying to figure out the drink’s popularity in town. He tried to come up with a list of reasons why Simms would need a massive wad of cash in a hurry. Each thought was a dead end.

  Shaun barely slept that night. The weekend was going to be big. When he woke up, it was the day before the flight to Brisbane. It was also the day of Tyson’s funeral.

  Shaun spent the morning making a half-hearted attempt at revising his speech, but he was really watching the clock. He knew the funeral was after lunch, and his mum would be doing the afternoon shift at the IGA.

  He did everything he could to convince her that he wouldn’t be leaving the house. As she was preparing to go, he made a sandwich, poured a Coke, planted himself in front of the TV, and switched on the PlayStation. When she came to say goodbye, he barely looked up. He was engrossed in a loud gunfight. She said goodbye, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and left.

  The second he heard her car start in the driveway, he switched off the console, threw the sandwich in the bin, and poured the Coke down the sink. He couldn’t eat right now. His stomach felt weak.

  The church wasn’t far, just a few minutes’ bike ride. But he had no intention of going to the church itself. In the film he’d imagined, he’d ride to the top of a perfectly placed hill opposite the church, and he’d watch the funeral from there. But this town was totally flat. The only hills were the bumps in the skate park.

  Opposite the church was an empty paddock where the yellow grass had grown tall enough to move and sway sleepily in the thin breeze. It was dotted with a small cluster of abandoned rusty cars. He would have to find a spot there.

  As he approached the church he could hear singing: some pop tune that he half-remembered from a couple of years ago, except slowed down and sad. The lead singer sounded like one of the popular girls from school. The service had already begun.

  He pulled onto the dirt and dumped his bike in the grass. He found a broken ute and slipped into the front seat. The front windscreen had been smashed, and he had to dodge fragments of glass as he slid behind the steering wheel. The seat was warm from the sun.

  He could see the open doors of the church. It was packed. A couple of people in suits were standing at the entrance. The final refrain of the song ended and everything
went still. A gust of wind blew through the paddock, and all around him the yellow grass moved in a lazy sway, like he was floating in water.

  Someone was speaking inside the church now, but he couldn’t make out the words.

  He didn’t believe in ghosts, but he found himself wondering if Tyson was watching him, or watching his own funeral. Maybe he was in the car beside him now, his body only half there, rippling in the sun.

  His body and face would be without markings and sweat. He would look free and happy and peaceful.

  ‘I really want to know what happened to you,’ Shaun would say.

  The ghost-Tyson would nod.

  ‘I’m sorry I lied,’ Shaun would continue.

  The ghost-Tyson would nod again.

  Shaun’s skin prickled with goosebumps. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

  He waited. But the image of ghost-Tyson wouldn’t shift from his mind.

  He was there.

  ‘Is it cold?’ It was the only thing Shaun could think to ask.

  The ghost-Tyson shook his head. He closed his eyes, and his face turned upwards to the sun. He moved so slowly, like he was outside time, like time was nothing.

  And then the music started up again, and Shaun’s mind was back in church. It was another pop song, but he couldn’t tell which.

  Then people were starting to move. They were leaving. He leant back in the wreck so he couldn’t be seen. He recognised guys from the mines, old guys from school. Then he saw Tenner. And Mr Hagger. He scanned the crowd for Simms, but he wasn’t there. He couldn’t see Peter or Elaine. Or Millie. Maybe the family would stay inside a bit longer.

  Then he saw Megan, and his heart lurched. She looked like someone he didn’t know. Like a memory of the Megan that he knew.

  He wanted to hug her. He wanted to tell her it would all be okay. He would figure it out. But he couldn’t promise that, of course. He couldn’t promise anything.

  He turned back to where ghost-Tyson might have been. But the seat was empty. Nothing but shattered glass.

  The airport was busy. A crowd waited by the tiny cafe, most of them ordering beers. There were a lot of blokes, some in hi-vis, others in shorts and thongs. The few women looked like they were from the local farms, broad-shouldered and dressed in expensive worn jeans and boots. Shaun wasn’t looking for any of them, of course. He was only looking for Megan.

  His mum was too. Peter Grant might be the one chaperoning her. The thought made Shaun’s palms sweat. But there was no sign of a teenage girl in the crowd, not even Sarah at the car hire desk. An older woman was perched in front of the screen.

  They checked their bags in at the counter. It was hard to resist getting excited, even with everything else going on. Shaun hadn’t been on a plane in a year. They were going to a posh private school for a debate, and investigating a murder on the side. Glory might still be possible.

  Standing in the crowd, he imagined himself slamming the other team and winning the debate. Megan would leap into his arms and forgive him. And Simms would crumble under interrogation and admit everything. He would arrive back in town victorious. His mum would meet him at the airport with tears in her eyes.

  ‘We could get chips!’ Will said, scanning the cafe menu.

  ‘Your mother supplied you with a whole container of treats, Will. I don’t think she’d be pleased if I bought you chips,’ said Shaun’s mum.

  ‘I can buy them!’ he said. Then he hit Shaun on the arm and pointed across the crowd.

  Megan had just walked in. And there, beside her, was Millie.

  ‘That’s Millie, isn’t it?’ Shaun’s mum said, tensing. ‘Is that okay?’

  Shaun nodded. ‘Yeah, actually. She’s nice. I think she thinks Peter’s a bit of an idiot, though.’

  Megan looked over at them and waved. Her face as still as a painting.

  Shaun’s heart leapt. The three of them waved back.

  Maybe this meant she didn’t completely hate him.

  Shaun tried hard not to stare as Megan and Millie went through the check-in counter. But when he glanced up again they were waiting at the other side of the airport.

  Either Megan didn’t want to talk to them, or she’d received strict instructions from her dad not to.

  ‘Come on, guys,’ said Shaun’s mum, leading them away from the cafe to the security check line.

  ‘It’s so awkward,’ said Will. ‘Do we just not talk to her?’

  ‘If she decides she wants to talk to you, she will. I can’t believe she’s here at all, frankly. The funeral was only yesterday.’

  Shaun almost spoke, but decided against it. The day after his dad’s funeral, he remembered his mum packing his lunch for school and sending him out the door. They didn’t even talk about what had happened. At the time they were both so hungry for any sense of normalcy.

  It was almost time to board. Shaun’s mum put an arm around him and pulled him close. ‘If you run into trouble, call me, okay?’

  Shaun rolled his eyes. ‘Why would we do that? It’s not like you could do anything from here.’

  Her tone was flat. ‘Just call me if there’s a problem. And even if there isn’t. And if I text you, you text me back.’ She turned to Will. ‘Same goes for you, all right? I know your mum’ll be worried.’

  There was no point in protesting, so Shaun looked at his mum and patted her arm. ‘Yes, Mum. Absolutely.’

  Millie and Megan were a long way back on the plane, so Shaun had to twist around to see them. He gave up and spent the flight playing games on his phone and talking with Will. Tenner was a row behind them. Before they took off, Shaun could already hear his loud guttural snoring.

  Will pestered Shaun with questions about Simms every five minutes. What kind of house would he live in? Would his kids be there? Should they take it in turns to sleep in case Simms came in with a carving knife and tried to kill them both?

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that Guinness can too,’ Will said quietly. ‘I should’ve picked it up.’

  ‘Yeah, but what would we have done? It’s not like we could have dusted for prints.’

  In truth, he’d been thinking about the can, too. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than having to tell Megan that not only was her older brother gone, but that her dad had something to do with his death. Even if he solved the mystery, Megan would never be the same after that kind of news.

  By the time the plane was about to land, Shaun felt sick. He looked out the window as they approached.

  From this height, Brisbane didn’t look so big. There was one cluster of sparkling silver towers, surrounded by the twisting river and miles of suburban sprawl. In the late afternoon light, the colours of the city were deep and vibrant. Pockets of green. The rippling brown snake of river.

  He had always assumed that he would end up living here. Most of the seniors left town and went to uni in Brisbane. He couldn’t imagine loving any school subject so much that he’d want to study it for years, although when he was a kid he’d wanted to be a vet. Then a video game designer.

  As the plane banked, the sun moved through the cabin, bathing everyone in bright light. The city spun gently below them.

  Maybe he could be a detective. Or he could study justice or crime or something. The Tyson case could stay open for years. A decade even. He would go back to his home town as a grown-up, make a dramatic entrance and solve the case.

  The ground came up quickly, interrupting his thoughts, and the wheels skidded on the tarmac. The plane was small, so they felt the landing like an assault. Tenner let out a vulnerable, sudden snort as he woke up. The two boys suppressed a laugh.

  As they got up to exit, Shaun tried to catch Megan’s eye, but it was no good.

  He switched his phone off flight mode and immediately received a message from his mum. Text me as soon as you land. Yeah, right.

&nbs
p; ‘Mum’s going to harass me this entire trip,’ he said to Will.

  ‘Well, given that we’re staying with a potential killer, I don’t blame her.’ He clapped a hand on Shaun’s shoulder. ‘It’s been nice knowing you, mate.’

  ‘Drama queen,’ Shaun said.

  Will laughed. ‘Just saying. Also, if something happens, I think you should know I won’t be protecting you. I’ll be throwing you at the danger as a distraction and then running in the opposite direction.’

  Shaun couldn’t help but grin. ‘Thanks. That’s really reassuring.’

  But the smiles disappeared fast. They didn’t have to look for Simms. He was there waiting for them, right in front of the gate. His eye was still purple, his lip slightly swollen. It made his welcoming smile look like a mistake. Tenner went over and hugged him.

  ‘Boys,’ Simms said, looking straight at Will and Shaun, ‘so pleased to welcome you to Brisbane.’

  Shaun had never been in a house this fancy. Will gave him a nudge as they walked towards the entrance.

  ‘There are pillars,’ he gasped at the tall columns either side of the front door.

  The house had two levels, something Simms called a ‘media room’, and a pool out the back. Simms explained that his three daughters were at university and had moved out. This meant that Will, Shaun and Tenner would each get their own room for the night. He also gestured to a room on the lower level: his office. Shaun took note.

  Simms’s wife, Tenner’s sister, was at work and would be home soon. The boys were too scared to speak. Tenner and Simms disappeared into a conversation about football. Will and Shaun just listened.

  Shaun couldn’t help but think that Simms was a nice guy, just as Will’s mum had said. He offered them something to eat when they were in the kitchen (they both said no), and told them there were plenty of spare swimmers if they wanted to go for a dip in the pool.