On River Road

by Chris Else

  Heidi was standing outside.

  For a moment, just the stare and the silent corridor. The noise from the restaurant and the room where the party was. Then she lifted her hand, pushed the door. He stepped back and she moved toward him, came inside. He closed the door and locked it again. Standing in the small space, close. Her arms coming up around his neck, her mouth lifting. He pulled her in to him and kissed her. Felt her mouth eager. Hugging her tight, his lips against her ear, the side of her neck.

  ‘Ah.’ Her breath.

  Tongue on her throat and down into the V of her blouse, the rounded knobs of her breast bone. There was a necklace there, a thin chain, hard on the smooth skin. His hand down her back, her hip, sliding up her waist and her side, cupping her breast, firm and spongy in the bra. He wanted suddenly to free it, have her naked. Reaching for the buttons of her blouse.

  ‘No,’ she said.

  Stopped.

  Breathing, warm breath, she kissed him on the forehead.

  ‘We are mad,’ she said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They will miss us.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And I don’t want we should make love in a toilet.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh, God.’ Pulling him close to her, kissing him again. Their tongues pressing together. She turned her head aside. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Why sorry?’

  ‘I don’t want to be the cock-tease.’

  ‘You’re not.’

  ‘I just want to touch you. To say thank you.’

  ‘Thank you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Now maybe you should go.’

  ‘Yes.’ Moving away.

  She gripped his wrist, held him back. ‘You will come and see me?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  She smiled, a sad little smile. He pulled against her grip and she released him. He turned away towards the lock on the door.

  35.

  ‘OH, FANTASTIC!’

  ‘Wonderful. Wonderful time.’

  ‘Gaston, you’re a genius.’

  Gaston with a little bow. Annette behind him, grinning. Ward felt the glow of his own genius — well, not genius exactly but satisfaction. And a flush of love and gratitude for Maddy.

  Outside, spilling out into the night. The cold. Even with the wine it felt cold out here. Lisa turning up the collar of her coat. Colin stepping away, almost as if he wanted to run to keep warm, but coming back then. Standing a bit aside from the others. Ward moved to be near him.

  ‘Worked out pretty well,’ he said.

  ‘Yes.’ Colin wriggled his shoulders.

  Heidi was talking to Larry and Syl, saying how nice it had been and very lovely to be sharing the occasion. Maddy and Tom and Lisa there behind them. Heidi turning then towards where Colin and Ward were, looked at them, seemed to hesitate.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Colin said.

  She stepped towards him.

  ‘Thanks,’ Colin said. ‘Great dinner.’

  ‘See you, Ward.’ Heidi smiled.

  ‘Take care now,’ Ward said, and then to Colin, ‘See you Tuesday.’

  ‘Tuesday?’ Colin pausing, looking at him, puzzled.

  ‘Monty Kerrington.’

  ‘Oh, right.’

  He and Heidi walked away.

  Ward shivered. ‘Well, then.’

  ‘Thank you so much.’ Sylvia looking at him, turning to include Maddy too. ‘We’ve had a wonderful evening. You know, really special.’

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ Larry said, holding out his hand. He had a problem doing it because he was carrying two presents, boxes, wrapped in fancy paper, bows on them, one gold, one silver, that gleamed in the street lights.

  ‘Not at all,’ Ward said, pleased. He shook with his good hand, the upside-down grip. Feeling happy. A plain and simple thank you from Larry was something special.

  Sylvia came close and reached up her face, kissed him. Then she hugged Maddy, but one handed because she was holding a parcel as well. The one Ward and Maddy had given them, the Lladró figurine of the travelling player, which Maddy had not been sure about but Ward had insisted on. Quality, that’s what counted.

  ‘Bye, bye, then.’ Sylvia turning to Tom and Lisa.

  ‘Happy anniversary!’ Kisses, hugs. Larry shaking Tom’s hand too, making a joke about the cold night air.

  Goodbye! The two of them crossing the street, walking close together. Larry bending his head to hear something Syl was saying and she reaching up, putting her arm around him to give him a hug because she was the only one with a free arm.

  ‘Aren’t they cute?’ Lisa said.

  ‘The happy couple. Just like newlyweds,’ Maddy added.

  ‘Well, thank you for that.’ Lisa smiling from one to the other. ‘Both of you.’

  ‘No, no problem.’

  ‘You must let us know what we owe you.’

  ‘No, no.’ Ward pushing away the thought of money. Some other time.

  The four of them, two by two, walked together to the carpark, not saying much. The sky was dark above the street lamps.

  ‘Maybe it’ll rain,’ Ward said.

  ‘Yes.’ Tom standing beside the four-wheel drive, looking up at the sky.

  ‘What are you doing over the weekend?’ Maddy asked.

  ‘Don’t know. Imogen’s going to Col and Heidi on Sunday.’ A pause. ‘That bloody horse.’

  ‘Oh, it’ll work out,’ Maddy said.

  ‘I’m sure it will.’

  Maddy turning away. ‘Well, call us if you get bored.’

  ‘All right.’ Lisa waving, climbing into the vehicle.

  Their own car was just a bit further on.

  ‘You okay to drive?’ Ward asked.

  ‘Well, I don’t think you are.’ She had her keys out. Door release. Beep. He went round to the passenger side and climbed in. Put his seat belt on, sat back. A nice, cosy feeling. Done just nicely. And the wine was very, very good.

  Maddy starting up, moving off.

  Tom and Lisa were ahead of them, turning left outside the carpark, whereas they went right.

  ‘You don’t suppose there’s a thing going on between Tom and Heidi, do you?’ Maddy asked.

  ‘What?’ Looking at her. Her face was turned forward, staring out ahead.

  ‘Well, you know, I could have sworn they were holding hands at one point, and then they both went off to the loo at the same time and they were gone for … well, I guess it wasn’t that long.’

  ‘No,’ Ward said. ‘And it wouldn’t make sense, would it? Tom and Heidi?’

  ‘You okay?’ Lisa asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  ‘How’s Heidi?’

  ‘Don’t really know. Didn’t talk to her much.’

  ‘I noticed that.’ She stared out of the windscreen down the funnel of High Street. ‘Colin seemed his usual. Hyper one minute and depressed the next.’

  ‘Bipolar tendencies.’

  She laughed. ‘That shrink’s getting to you.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘You want to watch it. You’ll be discovering you’ve got a complex next.’

  ‘We’ve probably all got complexes.’

  ‘Yer. And I suppose some are more complex than others.’

  ‘Doubtless.’

  ‘It’s not an excuse, you know.’

  ‘What isn’t?’ Glancing at her.

  She caught the movement out of the corner of her eye but didn’t turn towards him. ‘Complexity,’ she said. ‘Neuroticism.’

  ‘Who’s neurotic?’

  ‘I don’t know. You? Me?’

  ‘It’s probably what makes people interesting.’

  ‘Interesting?’

  ‘Sexy.’

  She laughed. What else could she do but laugh in response to that sudden flick of need, the little rush in her belly?

  ‘Keep your hands on the wheel,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, boss.’

  Sylvia was at school. A bell was ringing. It was a fire. The school was
on fire. No. Waking, struggling up through the pitching darkness, she realised it was the telephone. Red numbers of the digital clock: 2.30. God, what was going on? She reached out for the receiver, picked up. Blessed silence for a second.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Syl?’ A scared voice, a little-boy kind of voice, but one she recognised. She thought she recognised.

  ‘Colin?’

  ‘Is Larry there?’

  ‘He’s asleep, Colin.’

  Larry behind her. She could hear him snoring quietly.

  ‘I need to speak to him, Syl.’ He sounded terrified, helpless. ‘I need to speak to him now.’

  She didn’t answer, wondering what to do.

  ‘Is that okay?’ he asked, a pleading, querulous tone.

  ‘Wait a minute. I’ll see.’

  She put the receiver down on the bedside table, turned on the reading light. Larry gave a grunt. He was lying on his back, mouth half open. She leaned over him, shook him. Gust of wine and whisky, sour on his breath.

  ‘Wa?’

  ‘It’s Colin,’ she said. ‘On the phone. I think he’s in trouble.’

  Another groan. He tried to roll away from her but she kept her grip on his shoulder, pulling at him.

  ‘Wake up, love. Wake up. It’s Colin.’

  She had done this before, in the middle of the night, when one of his clients did something stupid. Maybe not so often when he was as drunk as this.

  ‘Who?’ He was blinking at her, eyelids screwed up against the glare.

  ‘Colin’s on the phone. I think he’s in trouble.’

  ‘Colin? Jesus.’ Struggling upright into a sitting position.

  She pulled back the covers and swung her legs out of bed so he could reach across to the receiver. Stood up, took her dressing gown from the chair there, put it on. Wondering, anxious.

  ‘Col?’ Fingers through his hair, wispy hair on his bald pate. ‘What?’

  She stood there, arms across her stomach, hugging herself. Waiting.

  Silence. Then he said, ‘Okay, keep calm. They’re coming. Right?’

  A pause.

  ‘Don’t worry about that. The important thing is don’t say anything. Nothing at all. All right?’

  Another pause.

  ‘That’s okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Remember, say nothing. Tell them that’s what I told you to do. Right? … Good. Hang on in there, mate.’

  He reached over then, slipped the receiver back into its cradle. Then he turned and stared at her. His eyes, the expression on his face. She had never seen him look like that before.

  ‘Something’s happened to Heidi,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think he’s killed her.’

  36.

  HEIDI MIRA FUCHS, AGE thirty-four, died at approximately 2 a.m. on the morning of 10 May at the house she shared in Cox’s Line with her de facto husband, Colin Wyte. Cause of death was a single shot to the head from a 5mm Schnauzer rifle. The victim was sitting up in bed at the time and her assailant standing about two metres away. The bullet entered the left eye on a downward trajectory, resulting in severe damage to the lower brain and brain stem. The injuries sustained would have resulted in massive disruption to neurological functions, producing paroxysm and loss of consciousness followed by general paralysis. Death would have occurred in a matter of minutes.

  Mr Wyte dialled 111 at 2.24 a.m. On his advice that Ms Fuchs had been shot, the operator alerted not only emergency services but also the police. Constables Matakana and Grainger reached the house at around 2.40 a.m., by which time Ms Fuchs was already dead. Mr Wyte was in a distressed condition. At first he said he wasn’t supposed to say anything, then he volunteered the information that Ms Fuchs had been killed by an intruder. However, he then retracted this statement and said that he had done it. He then directed Con. Grainger to a Jaguar car in the garage, the boot of which contained the Schnauzer rifle. Mr Wyte also said that he had already called his lawyer, Mr Lawrence Hannerby. Mr Hannerby arrived at 2.55, and at 3.05 Mr Wyte was arrested on a charge of recklessly discharging a firearm and taken to Durry Police Station for further questioning.

  Extract from an interview with Colin Wyte taken by Detective Sergeant Vince Petters, Saturday 10 May 2003

  CW … We must have left the restaurant around eleven, maybe a bit before, and we drove home. Didn’t talk on the way, not much. I was pissed off and I was trying to be reasonable. I guess it made me a bit depressed, too.

  VP Why were you depressed?

  CW Well, because we’d had this fight earlier in the week. She said she was going to leave me. We kind of agreed that we wouldn’t decide anything until the weekend. This weekend. I thought, you know, the dinner, a night out with friends, I thought it might smooth things over, change her mind. I guess it was pretty obvious that that hadn’t happened.

  VP Why?

  CW Because of how she behaved. She was all over Tom.

  VP Tom Marino?

  CW Yes. They were playing footsie all evening. I didn’t realise at first but then, at one point, he got up and went out of the room. A couple of minutes later she followed him. It kind of alerted me, and when they came back I could see what they were doing. Groping each other. Under the table.

  VP Did any one else notice what was going on?

  CW Maybe. It was obvious enough.

  VP And when they left the room? How long were they gone?

  CW I don’t know. Seemed a fair while. Long enough.

  VP What did you think they were doing?

  CW (laughs) What would you think they were doing? Having it off. Rooting. The beast with two backs. I already suspected it was going on. I just didn’t think she’d throw it in my face like that.

  VP So tell me what happened when you got home?

  CW Well, when we got inside, she went straight to the bathroom. She was in there quite a while and, I don’t know, that kind of upset me too. I thought, God, you know, what’s she doing? Douching herself, taking a shower, doing her toenails. It all seemed calculated to put me in my place.

  VP Did she normally take a shower in the evening?

  CW Yes. She’s very clean. On the outside. But she didn’t normally take this long over it. It was almost like a reminder. She’d been a long time in the bathroom at the restaurant and now, here she was, doing the same thing again.

  VP What did you do?

  CW I had a drink or two. I ignored her. Tried to. I figured the relationship was all over, finished, so I’d better get used to it. But thinking that just got to me even more. And … I don’t know, I couldn’t just sit there. So I went to talk to her.

  She was in the main bedroom by then, sitting up in bed, reading a book. She said she didn’t want to talk to me and asked me to leave. I said it was my house, my bedroom, too. She said no it wasn’t. We had agreed not to sleep together and this was where she was sleeping so it was her room.

  VP Was she angry?

  CW No. Not then. Calm. She can be so calm sometimes, icy calm. You think of the Ice Queen. That’s her. I pleaded with her. I said couldn’t we talk, try to make it up. No, she said, she wanted out.

  — It’s Tom, isn’t it? I said.

  — No, she said. It’s got nothing to do with Tom.

  — Why then?

  — Because I don’t want to live with you, she said. I want to be on my own. I want to lead my own life. So I asked her if she cared about me any more and she said, no she didn’t. Any feeling she had had was gone.

  — I suppose you want me to beg you to stay, I said. I suppose you want me to get down on my knees and beg.

  — No, she said. Not at all.

  So I did. I got down on my knees beside the bed.

  — There, I said. This is what you want, isn’t it? You want to humiliate me.

  She told me to get up because I looked foolish and she went back to reading her book. It was like there was no feeling there, no emotion. Like she didn’t care at all. You know, we’ve been together nearly seven yea
rs. I mean, I know that’s not a lifetime, but it ought to count for something. And I got angry. I guess I got angry, although it didn’t really feel like that. I felt I was floating, in a kind of a way. I just wanted to make her react. I just wanted to see that she felt something.

  So I went and got the rifle. I took it out of the case and I got one bullet as well, just one. I didn’t put it in the breech, I held it in my hand. I wanted to show it to her, to scare her with it. So I pointed it at her. And she did look sacred then, really scared.

  — It’s all right, I said. It’s not loaded. Don’t be frightened.

  And I showed her the open breech.

  — Just tell me you’re not fucking Tom, I said.

  And then she lost it. She just started yelling at me. She said it had nothing to do with me who she was fucking because our relationship was over and that I was stupid and insensitive and that she was sick of my games and my bullying and that it served me right if she was having it off with Tom because I drank so much our sex life was dead and she went on and on saying things, really vicious, nasty things about how inadequate I was, how useless and stupid. She wouldn’t stop. She was screaming and screaming. I asked her. Please, please. Because it was like I was being invaded. Her words were in my head. They were ripping me, like claws. And I don’t know why, I must have put the bullet in the gun and pointed it at her, not really aiming, I wasn’t aiming. I didn’t mean anything. I didn’t realise it was loaded. I just kept asking her to stop, please stop. Please, please, please, please.

  (A pause)

  VP Then what happened?

  CW It went off. I don’t know how. (Sobs) Heidi was thrashing around on the bed and making a kind of moaning noise. And her eye was gone. And there was blood there, all over. I went to her and took her hand and she gripped me hard. I kept telling her I was sorry. Then I thought, I have to get an ambulance but I couldn’t. The phone was on the other side of the bed and I couldn’t reach it. She was holding me so tight. I couldn’t get her fingers off my wrist and I thought, I have to, I have to hit her hand to break her grip. But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t hit her. Then, in a minute, she started to relax. She lay still and her hand just went weak and I didn’t know. I didn’t think, you know, she might be … I just made a dive for the phone and called 111. And then … Well, you pretty much know what then.