by J. P. Pomare
‘Can you think of anyone else who might have picked Billy up? A friend’s parents, for instance?’
‘No, but there was a van parked down the road for a few nights, and now it’s gone. I’ve got the licence plate number here on my phone.’ I show him.
Trioli dutifully records it in his notebook. ‘We’ll check it out.’
I recall the flowers that were left outside my house. I’m tempted to mention them, and the open gate, but I know it will only distract them from Wayne. I must keep in control of the situation and keep them focused on Wayne. It has to be him.
I check my phone again; no missed calls, no text messages, no emails.
Corbett has returned to the table by now. ‘Would Billy have any reason to run away?’ he asks.
‘Sorry?’
‘Has he ever shown signs that he might want to run away?’
‘He’s seven.’
‘Does he spend much time in the national park or near the river?’
‘Yeah, I guess. But always with me. I don’t often let him out of my sight.’
‘And he’s never run away before?’
‘No. He wanders about the property sometimes, but like I said he’s never far from me.’
‘What about the neighbours?’
‘I only have one. Derek. I checked in with him. He’s not seen Billy.’
‘We’ll head there and speak to him ourselves.’
The police continue with their questioning. They ask me for photographs of Billy and make notes of his height, and hair and eye colour. They inspect his room closely. I know family are always the first suspects, that they’re just doing their job, but it means they’re not looking where they should be. They’re still expecting Billy to turn up.
‘And you say he was wearing his pyjamas? What do they look like?’
I feel lots of things – distress, anger, frustration at myself – but these emotions sit below the surface. I have to make myself cry to show them how upset I am. I give it a few moments before speaking through the tears. ‘His pyjama top is yellow with a red dinosaur on it and his pyjama bottoms are red.’
‘A yellow shirt with a red dinosaur. And he was definitely wearing it this morning?’
‘Definitely,’ I say, scrubbing at the tears with my sleeve. ‘Please, just bring him back.’
‘We’ll do our best,’ Trioli says.
Corbett takes over again. ‘So you sat for a moment in your yard at approximately six thirty am, then you went for a swim in the river, and when you came back inside you checked in on Billy and he was still asleep. You lay on the couch at approximately seven fifteen and woke up at …’ he glances at his pad to check the time ‘… approximately twelve o’clock and got up straight away to check on Billy. You then discovered his bed was empty and you have not seen him since.’
‘That’s right.’
They walk through the house and check every room, as though he might be hiding.
‘That’s everywhere?’ Trioli asks.
I think about the fire bunker, all those paintings. ‘Yes,’ I say. I don’t want to waste any more time. ‘That’s it.’
‘Well, Ms Heywood, the good news is we have some very solid leads to pursue. I’m more than confident that we will have Billy back to you in no time. We have officers and a small search party on their way now to help us search the bush if he has wandered out there and got lost.’ They place their caps back upon their heads and make their way to the door. ‘Is there someone you should be with now?’
‘No,’ I say, without hesitation. Does this look bad? Does this suggest some guilt? But there’s no one I’d want to call. Jonas would take control like he always did. I could call Mum, but most days she struggles to remember my name, so there’s no telling if she’d remember Billy. Those friends I had before moving from the city are now just mere acquaintances, and the same with the people from yoga. The sad truth is, I don’t have anyone to call other than Corazzo, who I plan to contact the moment these two leave. ‘I mean, I’ll probably head out and search.’
‘Well, we’re going to continue looking around the area. Please don’t go into your son’s room, and if you should discover anything suspicious, don’t touch it but contact me immediately.’ He holds out a card.
‘I will.’
‘We’ll start out in the yard. The searchers will be here shortly.’
They go out the back door and are soon walking across the yard towards the river.
The cord between me and Billy tugs so hard on my heart that I feel it could snap in two. I stand by the back door with my phone in my hand. Is it really possible Billy simply wandered off? But why wouldn’t he have answered when I called? I’d been all over the property, even out to the road where the van had been parked; he hadn’t been anywhere. The van …
All problems out here in the country begin and end with dodgy vehicles parked on quiet streets. The van was there and now it’s gone. I’m smarter than this, I can figure this all out. I’ve been so busy trying to keep up the facade that I stopped concentrating, I saw the stars when I should have been focusing on the constellations. I squeeze my molars. Think Freya, you bitch, think. The van, that man and his girlfriend, Wayne, the missing girl and now Billy – it is all connected, somehow.
AMY
I CAN FEEL the cockroach wandering around my empty stomach. When I ate it, I couldn’t bring myself to chew, I simply swallowed. We’ve been in the Hole for hours, all sitting close together down on the dirt. We didn’t eat last night or this morning; the minders and Adrienne are on edge and everyone is talking about the Blue Devils. Adrienne pulled me aside after we punished Asha. She said that only I can save the Clearing, she said she has a plan for me and Adam.
Tamsin said the Blue Devils were up at the road. She said they have been spying on us, that’s why we are in the Hole now. My legs are too tired to stand so I sit thinking about Asha and about Adrienne’s plan. I imagine the world Asha came from.
I think about the house I saw out in the bush. I wonder who lives there. Are they kind or scary?
Finally the bell sounds. We all climb from the Hole and head straight to our beds. My stomach squeezes like a fist. I am so hungry. Outside the window, clouds have blocked out the moon and it’s cooler now. I curl up in my bed and stare at Asha’s empty bunk across the room. I reach for my journal beneath the mattress.
FREYA
Two hours missing
‘FREYA,’ CORAZZO ANSWERS. ‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s Billy,’ I say. ‘Someone has taken him.’
A long pause. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean he’s disappeared. He was here this morning, then he wasn’t.’
‘He hasn’t wandered off? Not hiding somewhere?’
‘No,’ I say. ‘The police have been out here.’
‘Shit,’ he says. I can hear him sucking in a breath. ‘What’d they say?’
‘They think he will turn up. They didn’t really take it that seriously. I don’t know what to do.’ I need his help; I need him to understand.
‘So talk me through your day. When did you notice he wasn’t there?’
I repeat what I told the police.
‘I had a run in with Wayne,’ I say. ‘He thinks Billy is his kid – and he told me that Aspen has disappeared.’ I think about the email address again. Wayne said someone was impersonating me, but was that all a lie?
‘That’s not good. You think Wayne’s involved?’
‘It seems like too much of a coincidence, him turning up suddenly.’
‘Have you called him?’
‘Yeah, there was no answer. The police have his details too.’
‘Alright,’ he says. ‘I’ll jump in my car and head out your way. Should be there in an hour or so.’
‘You don’t need to do that.’
‘I’m coming. I want to help search, just to be sure he’s not hiding there somewhere.’
I call Wayne again but it goes straight to voicemail. I try again; voi
cemail once more. It must have been his plan when he turned up, distract me, keep me up all night then swoop in. I send a text instead.
Where the fuck is he? Where is Billy?
•
I sit at the table for a few minutes, turning the phone in my hands. Then I go to Billy’s room. Opening the window, I test the bolt. I check under his bed and open his drawers. I find the coin I had placed under his pillow, still there. I push his blankets and sheets onto the ground.
I hear a tap on the back door and then Trioli’s voice. ‘Ms Heywood,’ he calls.
I hear his footsteps coming through the lounge and move out to meet him.
‘What are you doing?’ He looks over my shoulder.
‘I was trying to work out how someone could have got in here,’ I explain.
He frowns and steps past me towards Billy’s room. He reaches for the doorhandle with his latex-gloved hand and closes the door.
‘I asked you not to go in there. I asked you to stay where you were.’ He leads me back to the kitchen.
‘I’m sorry. I forgot.’
‘You forgot?’
I look away. ‘I’m not thinking straight. I’m sorry. My son has disappeared.’
He shakes his head then says, ‘I was coming to let you know that we’re heading off now. The search team will get to work as soon as they arrive. Don’t go back in that room, leave the door closed. I’ll be in touch soon.’
•
When they’ve gone I call Wayne again. I hate his nauseatingly bland voicemail message. Wayne’s phone, leave a message. I’m sitting at the table searching news sites on my phone, refreshing every few minutes to see if there is anything online about us yet, when I hear a knock at the door. I rise, hoping for good news but fearing the worst.
Opening the door, I see the bushy eyebrows, the Stalin-thick moustache, the shoulders you could serve a buffet on.
‘Corazzo,’ I say, then he pulls me against him, holding my head to his chest.
‘We’ll find him,’ he says. ‘He can’t have got too far.’
I make him tea and we sit down at the table. The former cop eases himself into his chair slowly, his hands on his knees.
‘Can’t move as well as I used to,’ he says with a smile. ‘It’s a race to see which goes first: my heart or my knee.’
‘You’re alright,’ I say, placing a cup before him.
‘I passed the roadblock near town and saw a couple of cops down at the park,’ he says. ‘They’re taking it seriously, despite what the first two on the scene thought. They’ll have searchers out here soon enough.’
‘He’s not in the bush. He wouldn’t just wander off.’
‘They’ve got to follow every lead,’ he says, taking a sip of the tea. I notice the way tiny beads of it stick to the bristles of his moustache. He’s got grease near his collar and creases at the elbows of his shirt.
‘I know you think it’s Wayne, and you might be right. But the former detective in me is saying it’s best to check every avenue.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘We should take a walk out there, try calling him. At the very least it will show the cops you’re searching for him. They’re suspicious pricks at the best of times.’
‘They know how desperate I am,’ I say.
‘Come on,’ he says, draining the last of his tea. ‘A walk will do you some good.’
We take Rocky on his leash out the back gate and up the path. It’s hot and dry still but low clouds are sweeping in from the east.
Corazzo is walking ahead, scanning for footprints or tracks. Every so often he stops, squats down and studies something on the dusty path.
‘They ask about your history?’ he says, as we reach the fork in the path.
‘No,’ I say. ‘I guess they don’t know. They’ll figure it out soon enough. I don’t want to give them any reason to suspect me of anything.’
‘Billy,’ Corazzo calls. ‘Billy!’
I know it is no use, but it can’t hurt. We go back the long way, via the road.
‘What will happen now?’ I ask as we walk down the driveway towards the house.
‘Well, they’ll keep searching.’
‘And when they don’t find him?’
‘If he doesn’t turn up by tonight, I’d say they’ll issue an alert to the media with his image and start reviewing any CCTV footage from surrounding roads. It’ll become a full criminal investigation. They’ll look much more closely at people like Wayne, they’ll go see your mum and any other family members.’
‘When they find Wayne, they’ll find Billy,’ I say. ‘You didn’t see the look he gave him. He took Aspen away, and now he has taken my other son.’
He studies me for a moment, then turns away to gaze over the back lawn.
•
The afternoon wears on into dusk without word from the police. I don’t see any sign of a search party, and I haven’t heard a thing from Wayne. The police think it’s a domestic tiff, I realise. They don’t know what Wayne and I are capable of.
Corazzo makes pasta. I just sit, sipping a glass of wine to settle my nerves.
‘You better eat something, Freya.’
‘I can’t,’ I say. I wait for him to insist.
‘You’ve got to eat. Go on just a few bites.’
My stomach clenches in anticipation. ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘I’ll try.’
‘I can stay out here tonight,’ he adds. ‘Happy to.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘No, that’s okay. I’ll be fine.’
After dinner, he presses his big palms into his knees to rise. ‘I’ll hear from you in the morning then. Don’t worry – he’ll turn up. If you’re thinking of doing anything crazy, call me first.’
I know I shouldn’t drink, it won’t help in the end, but when Corazzo has gone I pour another glass of wine. It tastes sour and the hangover will compound all the awful feelings I have inside, but if I don’t drink I won’t sleep. I will feel that needling fear. I will feel the motion sickness of loss. I will overthink everything, analysing and interrogating all the moments of the week leading up to Billy’s disappearance. I check Google Maps, looking at the roads leading towards my home. I zoom in and out of the national park, becoming more familiar with the shape of it, its enormity. All that green on the map, with the blue river snaking through it, from Mum’s village all the way to me and then on down towards the city. It will take them months to search the park, and even then they could never be sure. They will focus their efforts and attention on the wrong place.
Aspen has also disappeared, according to Wayne. My mind drifts back to the day I left my son in the car. What was I thinking? Why did I do it? I realise I have no answer; I have blocked it out. Sometimes I hide the truth even from myself.
— Amy’s journal —
This will be short.
I am going tonight. I will step out to discover the world outside. I want to go to that house in the woods to peer inside and see what Asha saw before we brought her home to the Clearing. I’m taking my journal, to document what I find. I need to know, I need to see for myself. Asha hated Adam, she loved the world outside.
Adam’s punishments and cruelty have increased in frequency and severity. He is hurting us for fun now. He blames me for what happened with Asha and if I don’t leave I’m worried he might take it too far.
Even Adrienne seems afraid of him now. She hasn’t been at the Clearing much but I know she only wants us to be safe and happy and she can’t control him.
It’s getting dark outside and I plan on waiting until everyone is sleeping before I go. I know I need to be brave. I can always come back before dawn if I change my mind. I’m so scared and excited that my hand is shaking. I know there is a chance I will encounter the Blue Devils.
I know not to trust them.
They hate us.
They were sent by the Devil to stop Adrienne’s plans.
They will kill me if they get a chance.
But if I can somehow stop Adam from h
urting us, then it will be worth it.
FREYA
Nine hours missing
I CONTINUE TO down glasses of wine and stare out into the darkness.
When the phone vibrates on the table I stare at the number. I don’t recognise it. Putting my wineglass down, I bring the phone to my ear.
‘Hello?’
‘Freya Heywood?’
‘Yes, it’s me.’
‘Detective Sergeant Jennifer McVeigh, Victoria Police. Do you have a moment to speak?’
‘Yes. Yes, please, what is it?’ My voice is small and tentative. Thank God it’s not Trioli or, worse still, Corbett. Hopefully this Jennifer McVeigh is a little more competent.
‘Well,’ she begins, her voice steady and authoritative, ‘there’s no good news yet, but we are making progress.’
I make my breath shaky, it sounds like I’m on the edge of tears.
‘Someone at a neighbouring property has confirmed that he saw a vehicle depart from your road shortly after ten this morning.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Nothing at this stage, but were you anticipating any visitors?’ ‘No.’
‘Wayne Phillips was scheduled to fly back to Coolangatta from Tullamarine airport this evening at six-forty, but he was not on that flight. His rental car was due for return shortly before then and he has not returned it; we have the plates and car make and model. We have also been in contact with his wife. She hasn’t heard from him. We haven’t been able to locate him as yet, but we should be able to pinpoint his whereabouts based on activity from cellular towers.’
I clear my throat. ‘So, it’s definitely him? He took Billy?’
‘I can’t confirm that. He’s on the list of people we are interested in speaking with.’
‘I see. Can I ask who else is on that list?’
‘I can’t disclose that, I’m afraid. But please rest assured we are pursuing every avenue. We’ve had a search team out in the national park this afternoon and they’ll be back at first light.’
‘Well, thanks, I guess. Please bring him home. I just want him back.’