Wreck

by Fleur Ferris

  My conversations with Zel play over in my head like they’re on repeat. I wish he was here now, so I could look at him with fresh eyes, ask better questions, detect any signs of him being mentally unstable. What he’s been through could send anyone over the edge, but Knox was in the boating accident too. Knox was on the island and also lost his cousin. One brother is seemingly standing strong, the other is supposedly derailed.

  What has this incident done to the rest of the Chisel family?

  As we get closer to Point Piper, the streets stay narrow but the houses grow in size and grandeur. As the taxi pulls into Winbilla Road, the driver slows and asks what number.

  ‘Here is fine, thank you.’ I pay with my card, then get out of the car. The taxi pulls away from the kerb, does a clunky U-turn and drives back the way we came. I remove my sweater, tie it around my waist and push my hair back off my neck. I wish I had worn shorts. Then I wonder if I should have dressed up a bit to meet Mr Chisel. What do billionaires wear at home? Every house in this street must have a sensational view of the harbour. My eye is drawn to the Opera House, glimpsed between houses, and I stop walking for a moment to drink it in. I think my mind needs to see more beautiful things after the night before last. Maybe if I overload it with images of beauty it will crowd out the image of that small dark circle on Simon’s forehead and his empty, lifeless eyes.

  I pull out my phone and text Relle that I have landed safely and am already in Winbilla Road and I notice that Smidge has seen my message. I open the photo of the Chisels’ house that I saved and look at it while I walk along the street. It doesn’t take long to find the house, the solid cream walls giving very little away. The picture I have on my phone is taken from a different angle and from a different height, but there is no mistaking that it’s the same house. I take a fresh picture, making sure it shows the number on the gate, and send it to Relle.

  Found it. Here goes …

  The intercom is to the right of the gate and I stand on the footpath looking at it. If there is no one home, this is as far as I’ll get. When I jumped on the plane this morning I didn’t think about that.

  My heart picks up pace and I feel hot and clammy. Pulling my hair away from my neck instantly cools me down. I should have tied it back. I take a deep breath and imagine them being friendly, understanding and believing everything I say. Whenever I’m nervous about something, I find courage by psyching myself into thinking everything will work out.

  I reach out and press the button. The pad behind it lights up and this indicates that something is happening. There is no sound to tell me that a bell is ringing.

  Nothing happens. I press again and wait, then after a few seconds I press again, for longer this time.

  ‘Chisel residence.’

  It’s a man’s voice, gruff.

  ‘Hello, is that Mr Oliver Chisel?’

  ‘Who’s asking?’

  ‘Tamara Bennett.’

  Silence.

  ‘Ah, I’m here to speak to you about William, your nephew.’

  ‘Why? Who do you work for?’

  ‘No one. Er, I met William yesterday, and we … um, he’s in some trouble.’

  Silence.

  ‘Hello? Sir? Are you still there?’

  Silence.

  I look up and down the street. I step back for a better view of the house.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Chisel is unavailable,’ he says.

  The screen is no longer backlit. I keep going anyway.

  ‘William is in trouble. Big trouble. It’s because I found a note. It was from your son – it said he survived the boating accident.’

  Silence.

  I have no idea if it was Oliver I was speaking to or whether he can hear me.

  ‘Please, I just need a few moments of your time. William needs your help.’

  Silence.

  Tears heat the backs of my eyes. ‘Hello? Hello? Are you there?’

  Silence.

  ‘I didn’t ask to be involved in this.’ My voice rises as my anger and frustration builds. ‘I know you’re grieving the loss of your son, but isn’t the truth important too?’

  Silence. It infuriates me.

  ‘They held a gun to my head!’ Tears come but I hold them back as I pound on the intercom with my fists. ‘What kind of family are you? Who doesn’t help their own nephew when he’s in trouble?’

  Silence.

  I rein myself in, embarrassed by my outburst. ‘The note I found had the Chisel coat of arms on it. Two lions, one with legs, one with a fishtail. It had a shield with two chisels on it. This meant something to William, that’s why I’m telling you …’

  Silence.

  I’m not sure what to do, so I wait a bit longer. I press the button harder, and for longer.

  ‘Hello? Is anyone there? William needs your help. The police say he’s armed and dangerous, but he’s not. Dangerous, I mean. He is armed … I’m scared something will happen to him.’

  Silence.

  Oliver Chisel obviously doesn’t care what happens to William. It was a mistake coming.

  Family not helping one of their own is foreign to me. Even if I was delusional, my family would still care about my wellbeing. Doubt about William niggles at me. What has William done to make them think so little of him?

  I found a note from their missing son … wouldn’t you think they’d want to know about that?

  I step away from the gate and take in the house again. The solid cream walls give away more this time. They are cold and designed to shut everyone out as much as this gate is.

  I turn and walk away. Stunned by their response.

  ‘Ms Bennett?’

  The female voice startles me. I turn.

  It’s Selena Chisel. I recognise her from the photos of the fashion show and from when I’ve seen her in the paper. She is as stylish as when she was in her cream dress and heels. She stops about five metres away from me, like she’s keeping a safe distance, her shoulders back and her head held high. Her blonde hair is tied back into a high ponytail and large sunglasses are propped on the top of her head.

  ‘I’d like to hear what you have to say,’ she says.

  We eye each other.

  She continues. ‘We’ve had hoax callers, people wanting money for information … it all started after the first person reported finding a note. We’ve learned not to trust anyone claiming to have found a note from our son … But, something you said … I … Oliver isn’t very … Would you come in?’

  I nod.

  We walk back to the gate. Selena punches in the security code and the lock releases with a dull clunk. A path leads to the front door. We step into a massive entrance hall. Straight ahead are stairs, and to the left is a kitchen and dining area. We turn right into a large living room. Selena glances up the stairs as she ushers me into the room, then closes the door, gently, quietly, consciously.

  Selena looks me over and I do the same to her. From a distance she looked younger. Up close, the lines around her eyes make her look tired and her pursed lips make me think she’s called me in to tell me off.

  ‘I’m sorry about your son,’ I blurt out. When I’m nervous I say whatever comes into my head; anything is better than silence. There’s a slight hiccup in her breathing as I say it, a glitch in the rhythm. ‘I came here because …’ My voice fails me so I stop and start again. ‘William needs help.’

  Selena crosses her arms in front of her. ‘I’d like to see the note.’

  ‘I don’t have it,’ I say. I go on to tell her what happened, but she talks over me.

  ‘Others, too, claimed to have found notes,’ she says. ‘Cruel scammers wanting money. They didn’t have anything either.’

  I’m not sure what to say because I feel outraged that there are people out there who would do that, and offended that she thinks I am one of them. After everything I’ve been through …

  ‘I don’t want your money,’ I snap. ‘Two of my friends died because of the note I found. I am not a scammer.’ Tear
s rise up and I fight against them. Then I feel bad that I’m being snarky towards a grieving woman. ‘Look, I don’t want to cause you more pain. You must be …’

  I have no idea what I was going to say. How would I know how a mother would feel five years after losing her son?

  Her face softens. ‘Please, tell me why you came here. I will listen.’

  ‘Someone tried to kill me for that note and William believes Knox is behind it. He thinks Knox did something on the island that he doesn’t want anyone to know about.’

  ‘What does he think Knox did?’

  ‘He thinks he did something to make sure Christian was never found.’

  Selena turns to the sofa and sits down. I follow her and perch on the edge of the seat opposite.

  ‘Knox has the police believing William is crazy and dangerous, a murderer, but I don’t believe he is, and I’m concerned something is going to happen to him.’

  The door opens. Oliver Chisel’s eyes flick from me to Selena.

  ‘What the …?’

  ‘Oliver.’ Selena stands. ‘Something she said … I needed to –’

  ‘Out,’ Oliver says.

  I stand.

  ‘How dare you come here?’

  ‘I didn’t come to cause trouble,’ I say.

  ‘She’s not asking for anything, Oliver. She’s concerned for William,’ Selena says.

  ‘The others were concerned for Christian, and they didn’t want money straight away either. They strung us along, had us believing Christian was still alive. And as for William …’ Oliver looks at me. ‘He was a nice kid, but he lost it years ago. His poor mother and father were out of their minds, never knowing where the hell he was.’

  ‘Tamara’s story is different, Oliver. I think we need to at least –’

  ‘Jesus Christ, Selena, what is wrong with you? You know William is no good. Every time someone claims to have found a note it sets him off. He loses it, and it’s no different this time. If I was his father I would have cut off his allowance years ago. I’d force him to get help. I don’t know why Damien has allowed this bullshit to continue. It’s Jacki’s fault. She’s always babied that kid and Damien let her.’

  I look at Selena. ‘I’ll go.’

  ‘Too right you’ll go. We want nothing to do with you or William. That boy is going to end up in jail and when it happens we won’t be there to bail him out. He’s an embarrassment to the Chisel name.’

  Oliver walks behind me towards the door, then ushers me to the gate, making sure I leave.

  Selena stands behind Oliver. I peer around him. ‘I don’t think William has lost it. He’s been set up,’ I say.

  Oliver slams the gate in my face. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to breathe out the shakiness inside me. I lean against the fence while I calm down, then walk away, not knowing what to do.

  I call Relle.

  ‘Hey,’ she answers.

  ‘Hey.’ My voice is shaky.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Oliver just threw me out of his house.’

  ‘What? Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes. No. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do now.’

  ‘Go to the airport. Come home.’

  ‘Have you found anything?’

  ‘No. Only a link to an article about a message in a bottle found two years ago by an Australian who was holidaying in New Caledonia, but other articles about it are missing.’

  ‘That’s the problem. A lot of relevant articles are missing. You might have more luck finding stories in papers that aren’t owned by the Chisels.’

  ‘I know. I’ve searched and searched the Chisel name, each Chisel individually, the boating incident, people finding notes … I’ve searched for anything I could think of and every time I thought I had something, the source was a Chisel paper and the article could not be found. It’s really suss, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yeah. Whoever is removing them must be hiding something.’

  ‘I’ve just had a thought. You’re suspecting Knox is covering something up, but what if it’s all of them? If Christian’s dad is part of it, he knows you’re onto them now.’

  Just as Relle says it, a black SUV drives past me and then slams on its brakes and reverses. I stop walking and watch the dark tinted window glide down.

  ‘Tamara?’

  Oh my God, it’s Zel.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Relle asks.

  ‘Zel?’ I say. Smidge must have called him.

  ‘What?’

  I ignore Relle and walk over to the car. ‘Zel, what are you doing?’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Zel looks angry.

  ‘I just saw your uncle.’

  Zel curses. ‘I told you –’

  ‘I know, but I can do what I want. I was trying to help you. The police are looking for you.’

  ‘You had better get in,’ Zel says.

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ Relle says. ‘Tam, I don’t trust him. You’ve done your bit, now.’

  ‘One sec,’ I say to Zel. ‘Relle, it’s okay. I trust him.’

  ‘We know nothing about these people, nor Christian’s disappearance, Tam. Don’t go anywhere with him. Don’t you dare. Think about Simon and Darryl. What if you’re wrong? What if he did it?’

  ‘I can’t stop thinking about Simon and Darryl. I’m doing this for them too, not just Zel. Zel didn’t kill them and together we may be able to help the police find who did.’

  ‘Darryl wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger.’

  ‘Darryl would want me to find the truth. He’d never want someone to be blamed for his murder if they didn’t do it. The truth was important to Darryl.’ Tears well up and my heart aches at speaking his name. ‘I’ve got to go, Relle. I’ll keep you posted.’

  Relle is quiet for a moment. ‘Be careful,’ she says. ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you too.’

  Zel gives me a half-hearted smile when I get into his car.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I ask.

  ‘Smidge told me you were going to see my uncle so I thought I should check everything was okay. How is he?’

  ‘Furious. He said you’re no good and he threw me out.’

  Zel looks away.

  ‘Sorry. Did I spoil what you were going to do?’

  He ignores my question. ‘Did you come all the way to Sydney to help me?’ The corners of his lips curl up as he tries to hold down a smile.

  I feel my face redden. ‘Did you come all the way to Sydney to help me?’ Our eyes linger.

  ‘I was already in Sydney,’ he says.

  ‘I came because it’s right. Your brother is a murderer and he’s setting you up.’ His smile fades. ‘What do we do now?’ I ask.

  ‘We go to the office. The only person who might help me now is Carrington,’ he says.

  ‘What if Knox is there?’ My heart double thuds at the thought of running into Knox.

  ‘I just called ahead. He’s still in Victoria.’

  Zel manoeuvres the car through the city traffic with ease. He doesn’t talk much, but neither do I. Relle’s concerns seep into my soul and make my skin prickle. I’m with a fugitive. Does that makes me one?

  Zel parks his car underneath an impressive skyscraper. He scans a security pass to call a lift and hits the button for the top floor. Moments later the door glides open. When we step out of the lift, a receptionist looks up from her desk, then away, then back as her jaw drops. Her eyes widen as her mouth slowly works into a smile.

  ‘Well, hello, William, what a surprise.’

  ‘Charlotte, good morning.’ Zel walks to the counter and leans over it. Charlotte meets him halfway and accepts a peck on the cheek.

  ‘Knox is looking for you.’

  ‘I know. I’m going to hand myself in, but I need to see Carrington first. Is he in?’

  Charlotte doesn’t say anything.

  ‘Please, Charlotte, I don’t want to put you in a bad situation. You can call the police, but I need to see Carrington first
.’

  ‘I’m right here.’

  The distinguished voice comes from behind us. We spin around. Carrington is a tall thin man in a charcoal business suit. His thick crop of grey hair and tortoiseshell glasses give him a sophisticated look.

  ‘Carrington,’ Zel says.

  ‘William, I’m glad you’re here. Come in.’ He gestures for us to go through a door and then turns to Charlotte. ‘Discretion please, Charlotte. I’ll handle this from here.’

  We enter a large office that overlooks the harbour.

  ‘This was Uncle Oliver’s office,’ Zel explains to me. ‘Neither he nor Dad ever came back to work so Carrington is in this one and Knox is in Dad’s.’

  A large painting hangs on the wall, an abstract nightscape of a lake, lit up blue from the moonlight with white stars dotting the sky. In front of the painting is a large desk with a desktop screen and wireless keyboard. Carrington joins us a few minutes later.

  ‘William, I assume you’re aware the police are looking for you?’

  ‘Yes. I can explain,’ Zel says.

  ‘I hope so. You had better fill me in and I’ll call our solicitor. We’ve been using Geoff Wicker, but I think Jarrod Brett might be better for this – what do you think?’

  ‘I’m happy with Jarrod,’ Zel says.

  Carrington looks at me. ‘Forgive me. I’m so relieved to see William walk through my door in one piece, I’ve forgotten my manners. I’m Carrington, family friend and long-time business associate.’ He smiles at me and shakes my hand.

  ‘Hi. Tamara Bennett.’

  ‘Yes, I recognise you from the news. How are you?’

  ‘Good, considering,’ I say.

  ‘I bet.’ He gestures towards a set of sofas by the window. We all sit and he turns to Zel. ‘Okay, William, shoot.’

  ‘I know you told me to leave it, to forget about chasing up the notes, but I couldn’t let it go. This is beyond coincidence now. The more I find out, the more certain I am that Knox did something on that island that he needs to cover up.’