Dead Dry Heart_A psychological thriller

by Toni Pike

  She made me tell her the entire story, although of course I didn’t tell her the truth, only parts of the truth, the same story that I told the police. My parents ran out of petrol, went to search for help and then later Joshua Byrnes was convicted of murder and went to prison.

  “But your childhood was monstrous,” she said, more tears streaming down her face.

  “That’s in the past and even the scars should fade with time.”

  She looked at me as if she understood everything about me and it hurt me to tell her lies and half-truths. I wondered if she would understand if she knew the truth, but that was too big a risk for me to take. “Tyler, you can’t hide from the past as if it never happened. If you become a politician, your story is sure to come out. You really can’t keep it a secret.”

  That sent a chill down my spine. Did I have to give up my political aspirations to avoid discovery? Perhaps I should have stayed in Quarry after all and looked after the motel.

  “I just want to think about the future and remember my life with the Carmichaels,” I said.

  “That’s understandable,” she said, stroking my face. “But you should make your past a part of your persona.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I didn’t think that being a murderer would impress too many people.

  “That is all part of your story and identity, and you need to project that for the preselection process. What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “Sunday? Nothing scheduled. I catch a flight back to Perth at seven o’clock.”

  “Then we’re going to work on putting together your brand.”

  “My brand? What do you mean, like canned vegetables or a packet of cereal?”

  “You’re so smart and you don’t know what a brand is?”

  “Let me kiss you before you tell me.” I leaned over and pressed her lips against mine. A charge surged through my body.

  Letitia sat up in bed and her face brightened. “Your brand is those special things about you that make you different to everyone else. It’s what will allow people to know exactly what they’re voting for when they hear your name.”

  “You seem to know a lot about that stuff,” I said, hoping that she never found out about my true brand. That I was a murderer and a liar, a man who lived his life hiding from the truth.

  “I’ve read quite a few books. Think about it, Tyler – you had the worst possible start in life, but then you turned out to be the best person in the world.”

  “The best person in the world? That might be exaggerating a bit.”

  We stayed in bed until eight in the morning and then we drove to my cottage. Together, we worked to create my brand that would take me into the future. I knew she was the woman for me, the special person everyone hopes to find, and it was so exciting to spend time with her. I couldn’t resist her enthusiasm and agreed with almost everything she said.

  Letitia honed my life story into something unique and appealing. I was a battered child until my parents were murdered, then my life turned around thanks to wonderful foster parents in one of the most remote areas in Australia. I had a superb education, great academic and sporting achievements, and to ice the cake and decorate it as well, I was brilliant at mathematics and finance.

  She seemed so happy that I couldn’t bear to hurt her. She made me recite my brand over and over, and the terrible gaps in the story, the lies that made me a monster instead of a saint, all stayed deep inside the dark recesses of my brain.

  ***

  Letitia moved into my cottage a few weeks later. Every weekend I flew home from Perth desperate to see her and she always greeted me with open arms. I wanted to tell her that I loved her and wanted to spend the rest of our lives together, but instead I said nothing.

  My plan was to be punished for the rest of my life by losing her. That was the worst penalty I could imagine. She would grow tired of waiting for me and that would drive her away. Letitia was too good to marry a murderer, too sweet and kind to love a man who killed his parents and destroyed the life of an innocent man.

  I had no trouble winning the preselection a few months later, to become the Freedom Party candidate for the seat of Mangrove in the upcoming Federal Election. Then the hard work began, campaigning from one end of the electorate to the other. It was a huge area in the northern part of Western Australia, an area of one and a half million square kilometres.

  Letitia and I had a long discussion and agreed that I couldn’t campaign properly when I was also holding down a job in Perth. I took three months leave, although my employer knew that if I won the election then I wouldn’t be able to return.

  The campaign team wore yellow T-shirts emblazoned with the words: Tyler Thompson for Mangrove – Freedom Party. I couldn’t believe that all my dreams might be coming true.

  I knocked on thousands of doors, gave talks, attended meetings, met every community group that I could find and visited every shopping centre. We discussed the major issues peculiar to each area, listened to problems and talked about the Freedom Party’s policies. All the while, I tried to promote my brand, the story of how I overcame a traumatic childhood.

  Letitia was by my side whenever possible, door knocking with me before work every morning and late at night. And when we finally crawled into bed, we lay in each other’s arms.

  No one believed that the Freedom Party could wrest the seat away from Graham Sanchez because he had been there too long. My campaign emphasised that he had become complacent, achieving very little for Mangrove and taking his constituents for granted.

  On election night, we all wore our yellow T-shirts and gathered at the Broome Beach Club, the largest venue in town. The ballroom was festooned with yellow balloons and one enthusiastic volunteer had made an enormous yellow cake. The local press arrived and I gave a preliminary interview, saying how hard the campaign team had worked and how much they deserved a victory.

  We watched the giant television screen as the results began to flow into the tally room and were then analysed by the panel of experts. The outcome for some seats was clear early on, and candidates from all over the country were claiming victory. The Workers Party was heading towards a victory with Doug Lapsley to remain as Prime Minister. The Freedom Party, led by Derek Slade, was losing the election and would remain in opposition, although they had gained some seats.

  There was no news about our electorate until finally the TV presenter, Mary Morcroft, said she would run through the latest election results. She announced them by state and, as usual, Western Australia was the last on the list. My heart was thumping by the time they finally mentioned Mangrove.

  Everyone in the room fell silent. She raised her eyebrows as I held my breath.

  “Results after preferences for the seat of Mangrove,” she said. “33,000 for the Workers Party and 39,000 for Tyler Thompson of the Freedom Party. Ninety-eight per cent of the vote in that electorate has been counted.”

  “My goodness, we’ve won!” cried Letitia as everyone broke into thunderous cheers. We hugged everyone within reach and then she turned to me, taking hold of both my hands and gazing into my eyes. “I love you, Tyler,” she said. “I really love you and can’t stand it anymore.”

  I had been such an idiot and there was no resisting her. “I’m hopeless, Letitia, and hopelessly in love with you. I can’t live without you.” We kissed right there in the middle of the room.

  All our friends applauded, but a man’s voice hushed the crowd. “Quiet everyone!” he called. It was Bob Jarvis, a local journalist sent to cover our election night celebrations. “They want an interview,” he said, putting his phone away and heading towards us with a microphone.

  My campaigners gathered around, knowing that my interview would be going live across the nation. Mary Morcroft, on the giant screen, smiled at the audience. “Let’s speak for a moment to Tyler Thompson who has managed to wrest the seat of Mangrove away from Graham Sanchez, a long-serving member. That’s one of the biggest electorates in Australia in terms of land area a
nd also one of the most remote. Bob Jarvis is standing by, so let’s cross live to him now.”

  Bob stuck the microphone in front of me. “Congratulations, Tyler Thompson – you’ve had a wonderful victory. What would you like to say to everyone tonight?”

  Shaking like a leaf in a gale, I tried to adopt a professional demeanour. “Thank you, Bob. I owe everything to my campaign team who’ve work so hard over the last few months. This victory belongs to them. I’m looking forward to representing the people of Mangrove. We desperately need improvements to health services, roads, education and communications in this area.”

  Mary Morcroft then spoke to me. “Tyler, I think you might be the youngest member in Parliament. How do you feel about that?

  “Yes, I’m twenty-five, and I think that demonstrates the wide diversity of people who are in the Freedom Party. We’re the one party that can truly say we represent all of Australia.”

  Mary beamed. “Yes, one of your colleagues made the comment tonight that the Freedom Party has every sort of person except a convicted criminal.”

  I felt as if I’d been hit on head with a sledgehammer. Surely she couldn’t know the truth about me: that I did deserve to be thrown in prison instead of elected to public office. Perhaps one of their investigative journalists had been doing some research, but I dismissed that idea almost immediately.

  There was only one other person who knew the truth.

  I maintained my calm exterior. “Yes, you’re right, Mary – a criminal convicted of a serious crime can’t become a member of Parliament. I’m really looking forward to taking up my new role in a few days time.”

  My shoulders slumped in relief when the interview was over and I could retreat safely back to my castle once again. Perhaps I was in denial, thinking there could be no consequences.

  Our celebrations continued for hours, Letitia close by my side as everyone congratulated us. My dream of becoming a politician had been achieved, and I would soon be known as Mr Tyler Thompson, MP – a Member of the House of Representatives.

  ***

  JOSHUA

  Joshua Byrnes had a new cellmate named Kyle who was fifty years old and had tattoo-covered arms. He was growing impatient with the entertainment on their small TV set that night. “Turn the sound down, Josh, I want to go to sleep,” he said. “This election crap is making me tired. It won’t change anything for us.”

  “I can’t – not yet,” replied Joshua. He had heard a familiar name mentioned a few minutes earlier and knew that he had to find out more. His heart was beating fast when Tyler Thompson appeared on the screen. As the interview began, he turned up the volume.

  “Hey, you’re driving me crazy,” said Kyle, wrapping the thin pillow around his ear.

  “Shut up, I know this guy.”

  “What do you mean?” Kyle rolled over and looked at him in amazement, but Joshua put a finger to his lips to indicate that he should be silent.

  Wide-eyed, Joshua watched the interview with Tyler Thompson, searching for signs of the boy he knew. A thousand memories flooded his brain. There was a plastic chair tucked under the small bench next to his set of drawers, and he had a powerful urge to pick it up and hurl it against the wall to shatter the screen. But he knew that wouldn’t take away his pain. Instead, he sat down on the end of his bed and stared straight ahead.

  “How could you know anyone like that?” asked Kyle.

  “I met him when he was a kid, about eleven or twelve years old.”

  “You’ve got a good memory. He sure wouldn’t want to know you now.”

  “Maybe not, but I’d like to see him. I can’t believe that he’s a Member of Parliament. His parents used to belt him all the time.”

  “So did mine. He’s done well then, not like us, and he’ll probably end up with a huge pension in a few years.”

  “I’ll read the newspapers in the morning – there might be an article about him.”

  “If that’s how you want to waste your time. Right now I’m going to sleep – try not to snore like a jackhammer.”

  Joshua read the newspapers every day after that for ten long years. He decided to start a scrapbook, and barely a week went by without Tyler Thompson being mentioned in the news.

  Chapter 10

  TYLER

  My wild dream on a school excursion eleven years ago had become a reality. Good fortune that I didn’t deserve stuck to me like my own shadow. I was a member of the House of Representatives, the lower house of the Federal Government. There were one hundred and fifty seats in total, with seventy members in the Freedom Party led by the Honourable Derek Slade, Leader of the Opposition. He was sixty years old and had been in Parliament for over twenty years.

  My role was split into two distinct parts. Parliament sat for about twenty weeks each year, so during that time I needed to live in Canberra but could return home on weekends. During the non-sitting weeks I lived in Broome to focus on my electorate work. I had a small office in the main street with Tyler Thompson, MP – Member for Mangrove emblazoned on the front window.

  Letitia continued her career in Broome as a solicitor with Barrow and Smith, but she was also my unpaid adviser and we had the perfect political partnership. She was also my financial partner and suggested that we invest in a townhouse in Canberra so that I had some permanent accommodation there. “We can always sell it if we need to, but you won’t have to worry about renting,” she said.

  I found a new townhouse in the suburb of Kingston that was only two kilometres from Parliament House. It was opposite leafy Bowen Park, so most rooms had a pleasant outlook.

  My working hours often went from seven in the morning until ten o’clock at night or even later. In Canberra, Parliamentary sittings lasted ten or twelve hours a day and there was always committee work and endless meetings to attend.

  In Broome, I had two staff members to manage my schedule and help me deal with the regular flow of constituent enquiries. I travelled regularly all over the electorate, more than twelve hundred kilometres from one end to the other, to meet with community leaders and organisations, talk to people who lived there, give presentations, visit schools and attend Freedom Party meetings. I was constantly discussing issues and speaking with the media.

  Letitia flew to Canberra to watch my maiden speech, my first major milestone. I carried her slender body over the threshold of the new townhouse, we made love in the bedroom and then she explored every inch of our new purchase. “I love it,” she said, “this is perfect for us, and easy to look after.”

  “Yes,” I replied, grateful she hadn’t seen me trying to clean the house at two o’clock the night before.

  The public gallery was packed the next day, but Letitia stood out in her white floral dress, her beautiful auburn hair tied in a bun. I glanced at her and smiled, but suddenly felt nervous rumblings in my stomach. I tried to calm down and then my moment arrived.

  I took a deep breath and began, giving a heartfelt speech with some touching stories to illustrate the need for more medical services, better roads and improved communication services in my electorate. I then expounded on the desperate shortage of major infrastructure projects around Australia.

  When it was over, there was a hushed silence and my heart sank, realising that it had fallen flat. But then the public gallery and all of my colleagues rose to their feet and applauded.

  Journalists sang my praises for a couple of days and identified me as the new member most likely to succeed. Buoyed on by that success, I was able to convince the Minister for Infrastructure to increase funding in my region. He thought that it would help to avoid negative publicity and increase his own polling in the electorate. Naturally, when I returned to the electorate, I made all my constituents aware of my role in obtaining that funding. My popularity in the electorate soared, although Letitia said that I needed to focus on the big picture and ensure that I developed a strong media presence in Canberra. She had an astute political brain.

  The long haul flights from Canberra to W
estern Australia were exhausting, but my energy surged when I landed in Broome and saw Letitia waiting for me. Every few months I drove to Quarry to visit Jane and Kevin, placing flowers on their graves and telling them about my life. In my imagination they were sitting at the kitchen table listening to everything as if it was the most fascinating subject in the world.

  There was another election three years later, a second campaign across my vast electorate with a landslide victory for me. But there were tears and disappointment at the election party because once more the Freedom Party, led by Derek Slade, lost the election and we faced another three years in opposition.

  Letitia hugged me when we finally came home in the early hours of the morning. “One day soon, we’ll be in power,” she said.

  When I returned to Canberra, Derek appointed me to the role of Shadow Minister for Infrastructure. My task was to develop our policies but also to undermine the Minister in power at every opportunity. I relished the role and employed Ranjit Perera as my chief adviser. He was twenty-eight, smart and dedicated, with a PhD in political science and public policy specialising in infrastructure. His parents were Sri Lankan immigrants who wanted to arrange a marriage for him, but instead he was determined to make his own choice and seemed to have a new girlfriend every few weeks. Since he worked eighteen hours a day, I didn’t know how he found the time.

  “Tyler, you need to increase your public profile,” he said about two weeks after he started work. “There’s an endless stream of media opportunities and dozens of political bloggers out there. Panel shows, interview shows – I want you on all of them.”

  “I’m not sure, Ranjit. I’m not an actor.”

  “You’re handsome and charming, witty, don’t you realise that? And the public are starting to think you might be a great choice for the next leader.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I’m up at five o’clock every morning just to read all the forums. I want you on TV as much as possible, and also Letitia. She’s your best asset.”