by Bowes, K T
Will patted her hand. “I know, kōtiro. But right now, the way youse behavin’, them cops gonna be arrestin’ you as look at ya. Youse look guilty as hell. Just say nothin’ and it’ll be fine. Them’s all in the safe and tomorrow they’ll be sorted out.”
Hana looked up startled as the sound of soft footsteps came to her through the partially open sliding door. She opened her mouth to speak and Will looked at her curiously. “That sounded real close,” he said nervously in a low voice. “I think someone was listening.” He swore and Hana jumped up quickly and ran to the door. She was just in time to see the heavy fire door to the museum closing slowly on its mechanism. Hana shook her head at Will.
“They’re gone. Could it be the American couple?”
“Nope. They were done when I came in here.”
“Do you think they heard?”
“If they stood outside then definitely, yeah.” Will ran his hand across his face. “Now you have to tell your husband.”
“I can’t, I can’t!” Hana cried, reacting instantly to Will’s admonishment to keep her voice down. “Because then I have to admit I know he’s not a Du Rose. And he hated that I worked out Reuben was his father and didn’t say anything. He won’t forgive me a second time. How do I say something like that? This is bad, really bad. And if the cops get the diaries, then they’ll know too. What am I going to do?” She burst into tears.
It took Will a full fifteen minutes to calm her down. “It’s ok, they didn’t hear none of that. Stop worrying, it’s a fool’s game is worrying. Say nothin’ to anyone and we’ll see how this all pans out.”
“Unless the cops send my son to interview me,” Hana sighed. “He’ll see right through me. He already hates Logan and when he saw my baby bump earlier, he just freaked out in front of everyone.” She ran a hand sadly over her son. “He said I was embarrassing.”
Will tutted and pulled Hana’s limp hand up to his mouth and kissed it, his wheelchair rendering him unable to get any closer to comfort her. “Te mate o te tangata rā, he rūrūwai noa iho, he pōrangi,” he hissed. Hana looked at him blankly and he translated, “The problem with that man is he’s a fool.”
Hana nodded miserably. “He was fine until I married Logan.”
“No he wasn’t!” Will scoffed. “He was fine while he could make youse dance to his tune. Now you’ve a tāne and it don’t go down well. He’s a brat.”
“It’s because he knew about my first husband’s affair for ages before Vik died. He admitted it last year. He adored his father but then he saw his flaws and it affected him.”
“A decade ago! He’s had time to get over it, Hana. Stop makin’ excuses for him! He’s got two kids of his own and needs to grow up!”
“I guess so. Do you think the cops will accept digital copies?”
“They ain’t getting no choice! Leave it with me and I’ll sort it all out. I’ve got some time off coming, so me and the boy will have a ride down into the Tron for a day. I’ll shut the museum and you stay away, don’t cover for me. Right?”
“Thanks, Will.” Hana kissed his wizened cheek fondly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you to rant to.”
“And plot with,” he snorted. “Get on with ya! That old lady’s been hanging around waiting for ya for hours now. Your youngun’s the light of her life. Go drink some of that foul English tea youse like and act normal!”
Hana used the private spiral staircase up to the first floor and then the apartment stairs. In the kitchen area, Alfred and Phoenix sat at the round dining table and dipped spoons into bowls of steaming food while Leslie bustled around serving them. Her face lit up when she saw Hana. “Come, sit your nono down,” she grinned. “Get some kai.”
Hana plonked herself down onto a chair and smiled at her daughter, who waved her spoon happily. “Boy up,” she said and smacked her lips happily. Hana looked momentarily confused and Leslie plonked a plate of mixed vegetables in front of her. Hana peered at it.
“Don’t tell me youse never had a Māori Boil-up?” Leslie asked aghast and Hana shook her head.
“I’ve heard about them but not really. Is it casserole?”
“Kinda. Kumara, puha, spinach and other veggies and this one’s got prime beef in it. Full of iron and vitamins. And my family recipe for butternut doughboys. Get tryin it.” Leslie provided a spoon and fork and stood with her hands on her hips expectantly as Hana tasted a morsel of beef.
“It’s really nice!” she said and dug her spoon in again. “It’s got heaps of flavour.”
Leslie humphed and dished herself a bowl “Youse can’t be married to a Māori man and not give him boil ups!”
Hana felt in disgrace and ate the delicious meal quietly. Alfred winked at her when she looked up and pulled a funny face. She smiled wistfully at him like a naughty child, at the same moment as her phone chirped from her pocket. “Sorry, everyone, please excuse me. I have to take this.” Hana rose and answered the call, moving away from the sound of scraping bowls and Phoenix asking for more.
“Hey babe,” Logan’s comforting voice spoke into her ear. “I promised I’d call. Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, me and Phoe are just having tea with Alfred and Leslie,” Hana replied, struggling to keep the sullenness out of her tone.
“Have you said anything?” Logan asked.
“Does he want some boil-up saving?” Leslie called, guessing at who she was talking to and Hana repeated the question.
“Ooh yes please, definitely. I love her boil-ups.” Logan’s enthusiasm chastised Hana further by implication.
“How long will you be over there?”
“I’m coming back now with Toby. The cops have stopped the build - obviously and set up all their gear. The coroner just arrived so there’s nothing more I can do.”
“How’s the family?” Hana asked, trying to enquire after Anahera without being obvious.
“Yeah, not good. Very shaken up, understandably. I’ve offered to let them move over here for a few days, but I’ll sort that out with Helena and Carrie.”
“Ok. See you soon,” Hana replied, feeling shaky at the sense of relief that washed over her at the thought of her capable husband arriving soon. She fought the urge to publicly collapse into his safe arms the moment she saw him. Hana went back to her food and although she chose her words carefully, Leslie was as sharp as a knife.
“What’s goin’ on?”
“Nothing,” Hana smiled and shook her head, but tiredness made her unconvincing.
“Don’t youse lie to me!” Leslie started and fortunately, Alfred intervened.
“Leave the girl alone, woman. She looks knackered. The boy’ll be back soon. Youse can interrogate him instead.” He smiled at Hana from under his eyelashes, his grey eyes sly and full of meaning. If you dare!
Logan breached the stairs to the loft apartment half an hour later. He was in his socks and had rolled his muddy jeans up on his calves. Phoenix beamed from her plate of suet pudding and custard. “Funny, Daddy!” She waved her spoon towards his unusual turn-ups and a blob of custard hit her in the eye. While Alfred and Leslie dealt with the mishap, Hana managed to cling to her husband and infuse herself with his strength. He looked tired and fed up and fidgeted overly much to be of much comfort. Warning vibes radiated out of him like electrical pulses and Hana was instantly on red alert. She eyed him anxiously as he dug into his food, less enthusiastically than Leslie was prepared to accept.
“What’s with you, boy? Youse love my cookin’!”
“Yeah,” Logan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smiled at his daughter. “I’ve got a bit of a problem.”
Alfred studied the man he had raised as his own and waited patiently, but poor Hana felt the butterflies begin in her stomach, knotting it up and threatening to reject the lovely stew. She fought to hold it together, not least because Leslie would never speak to her again if she chucked up her prized boil-up. Logan ate and talked. “The contractors found a body behind Nev’s place. The cops ar
e all over it like an infection. Nev’s moving Anahera and Wiri into a room downstairs for a few days. She’s gone to pieces totally. Nobody seems to know where the hell Asher is.”
Leslie tutted and shook her head in wonder at the news, but Alfred’s body was rigid with expectation. His grey eyes bore into Logan’s face with concentration.
“Do they know who he was?” Hana asked in a whisper and Alfred’s eyes widened to show the whites. Logan swallowed his latest mouthful and looked at Hana curiously.
“It’s not a he, Hana. It’s a woman. It’s Sylvia. Someone’s killed her.”
Chapter 38
Hana gaped unattractively at her husband, but still noticed Alfred’s sigh of relief as he sank back into his chair.
“Bloody hell!” Leslie exhaled and Phoenix went into a paroxysm of indignation.
“Om er! Om er, naughty Nonie. Not wearin’, vewy bad!” The child’s face reddened in horror and Hana beckoned to her.
“Come sit on Mama’s knee, baby. Nonie didn’t mean it. Come here.”
The little girl slithered from her chair and padded across, holding out her arms to Hana. Once settled on her mother’s knee, she humphed in satisfaction and pushed her spoon into Hana’s food. With a sly look at the adults, she popped a piece of succulent beef into her mouth and chewed happily with her baby teeth, her eyes closed in appreciation. Leslie smiled fondly and shook her head at Hana, evidently thrilled that one of the females liked her food enough to go back for more. “You want another portion, girl?” she asked Hana hopefully but the other woman shook her head.
“No thanks, Leslie. It was delicious but I just lost my appetite.” She sighed and ran a hand across her eyes, knowing she must look dreadful. A sickly greyness shrouded her inside and out. “Sylvia!” Hana sighed into the back of Phoenix’s fluffy head, her face disbelieving. “I can’t take it in. And I feel so mean because thinking she’d left for good was the best part of my week! What kind of person does that make me?”
“One that probably shouldn’t repeat that to the cops,” Alfred said wisely. He regained his composure immensely quickly for a man over seventy. Hana stared at her husband, tucking into another portion of dinner and narrowed her eyes.
“How can you just sit there calmly eating?” she asked.
Logan smacked his lips with contentment and his face gave nothing away. “Because I’m starving. And because the cops will be round in a bit to see me. Nothing half as nice as this in an Auckland jail.”
Hana exhaled loudly and the room spun before her eyes. She concentrated on taking calm, shallow breaths and Leslie grew concerned. The old lady was at her side in seconds. “Stupid boy!” she chastised Logan roughly and he had the decency to look guilty.
“Not again, not again!” Hana fought the urge to cry and Leslie patted her back with force, as though the woman was choking and not just falling apart at the seams.
“Hey,” Logan turned towards his wife and reached for her hand. “I didn’t know about it, I haven’t been across there for days and they honestly can’t pin anything on me. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
“Poor Sylvia,” Hana breathed. “Why didn’t she just leave that night when she said she was going to? She’d be happily hunting down Michael for paternity and leaving us alone. At least she’d be alive.”
“Michael?” Alfred was instantly alert. “What’s Michael got to do with this?”
“It’s complicated,” Hana began. “But Michael is Ryan’s father, not Logan. I broke the news to her the other night and she didn’t take it awfully well.”
“Maybe don’t tell the cops that either,” Alfred intoned, his voice laden with doom. Hana’s breathing became even more frantic and Leslie grabbed Phoenix quickly off her knee. Another stolen chunk of beef hit the floor beneath the table and the child groaned.
“They’ll think I did it,” Hana hissed, her voice laden with misery. “She threatened everything I had. I’m going to end up having this baby in prison, I know I am. Innocent people get convicted all the time. What am I going to do?”
“Run!” Alfred stood up quickly. “You can go to my whānau in the north. They’ll help you...”
“Dad!” Logan’s voice cut through the panic like a shot of reason. “Quit it! Nobody’s running! We didn’t kill her so we’re going nowhere. We just have to play the game and let them work it out.”
“Er...hi. The receptionist said it was ok just to come up.” Bodie’s tone betrayed awkwardness and guilt at disturbing the family. “Oh, you’re eating. Sorry.” He stood at the top of the apartment steps having climbed them quietly and avoided detection until he chose to be seen. His dark hair was damp and he waited on the top step for a formal invitation to enter their space.
Hana glanced at Logan and found his expression unreadable. Her son was intruding and the mother in her ached at his evident awkwardness. She turned and smiled. “Come in, Bo. I’m sure there’s plenty if you’re hungry.”
Relieved, Bodie pressed his feet out of his shoes without bending down to unlace them. He padded across the space between the landing and the kitchen, leaving damp footprints on the wooden floorboards. Leslie humphed and turned away still carrying the child, bustling over to the simmering pan and clattering with crockery one-handed. Alfred sat down.
“Sit,” Hana indicated the empty chair next to her. Bodie lowered himself carefully into its wooden embrace.
“Should you be here?” Logan asked, with a directness that bordered on rude.
“It’s fine,” Bodie countered. “Odering knows I’m here. But you hardly helped yourselves did you? I don’t know how you always seem to get mixed up in this kind of crap.”
“Does Odering think we did it?” Hana’s green eyes were wide and fearful. Leslie plonked a laden bowl of stew in front of the unwanted guest and slapped a soup spoon next to it.
“I’m gonna take my moko for a warm bath,” Leslie snapped, challenging Hana to disagree.
“Thanks, that’s a great idea,” Hana replied with a small smile. “It’s probably best she doesn’t hear too much.”
Leslie humphed again and left the room. Hana heard the child getting excited over the bath and the option of bubbles. Bodie tucked into his dinner and the gathered company waited in silence.
“How’d she die, boy?” Alfred asked eventually and Bodie looked up with a small smirk. Logan rolled his eyes at the young man’s minor victory.
“Shot at close range in the face.” The answer was given without emotion but Hana recoiled and clapped her hand over her mouth.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” she whispered.
“Yeah, not real nice,” Bodie replied. His mouth was full and Hana saw the food swirling like a washing machine and fought sickness valiantly. “The contractor who found her is still ill. He’s ended up in the hospital on a drip, heavily medicated. Only a young lad. It’s his first week with that company. He left school last Friday. Ironic hey?” Bodie glanced round at his audience as though he related nothing more than the state of the weather. “He shot puke right over the crime scene so DNA will be fun. Not that there was a clean site to get any, to be honest. She’s been there a couple of days. It was a mud bath, it’s been raining and every man and his dog traipsed all over it before we turned up.”
Logan shook his head slowly and glanced at Hana. She detected a flicker of a smirk in his eyes and wondered what was wrong with her men. They cared so little about serious things in their ego-laden relationships.
“We thought she’d left,” Hana said quietly. “As far as we were concerned, she’d gone.”
“Well, she had,” Bodie said callously and Hana shuddered. “In spirit, just not in body.”
“That’s enough!” Logan’s reprimand was loud and pointed. Hana sighed. Here we go.
“There’s a sixteen year old boy downstairs who just lost his mother. Are you gonna tell him? You’re gonna wander down all casual and let him know that she’s laying in a muddy trench with her face blown off are ya?” Logan stood u
p and Bodie tensed. “Ah man, you’re about as unprofessional as your other buddies. Finish your food and sod off!” Logan scraped his chair back under the table and strode down the apartment with long-legged steps, the muscles in his back tensing under his shirt.
“Daddy! Bubbles!” Phoenix’s excited voice travelled back to the group around the table, innocent and unburdened.
“He’s right. You should go.” Alfred stood up and left, hauling his stooped body after Logan. He passed the bathroom and headed to his bedroom at the end of the apartment. The sound of game show laughter permeated the gloom.
Hana slumped in her seat and sighed heavily, resting her elbows on the table and cupping her eyes. “Why do you feel this need to wind him up?” Her voice carried a perceptible whinge.
“Odering told me to.” Bodie lowered his voice. “I think he gets some perverse thrill out of it.”
“And you always do as Odering tells you, don’t you?” Hana observed her son with sadness. “Whatever the personal cost.”
Bodie looked ashamed, the first glimpse of honesty since he’d entered the apartment. “He’s my boss. He’s going places and hopefully taking me with him.”
“He sure is,” Hana mused. “I just worry about where that might be.”
“Look,” Bodie’s tone became urgent and he laid his spoon down in the empty bowl. He turned his body fully towards his mother. “I’m glad they’ve all gone. I need to talk to you. The local doctor came to certify the body as dead. The coroner was too far away. He said some odd stuff as soon as he saw the body. He made a statement about coming up here about ten days ago to see you after you had some kind of fainting spell. He said you asked him for help. You stated...” Bodie reached into his pocket and removed the ever present notebook. “My husband’s having an affair with an old girlfriend who turned up yesterday. If I should die unexpectedly, please could you make sure that everyone knows I was disposed of? The Du Roses do that, you know. They dispose of their problems.”