Chapter Nine
Bridger signed in at the reception counter and waited for his escort to the interview room where Joseph senior would be waiting for his audience. The officer behind the desk came around and indicated that he lift his arms up. The whole process was just a routine for him. Being a Police Officer afforded him no special privileges; they searched him just as they did everybody else.
The Prison Officer at the reception was a big jolly fellow dressed in a very similar uniform to the Police. He was almost too jovial to have spent his working life locked in the confines of the concrete walls with life's less privileged.
His standard line was 'Don't take the tie off as they might not let you out again'. Bridger looked down at his crumpled suit and scuffed shoes he had owned for many years and decided that he might be right; he looked like he belonged here.
He had not actually noticed his appearance this morning as he had struggled out of bed still half dressed. He had only managed a few hours sleep. Normally Laura would tell him if he looked unkempt and he could rectify it, not anymore. A wave of loneliness swept through him and settled in the pit of his stomach.
His escort arrived a short time later but was less courteous than his jolly counterpart was. It was as if Bridger had interrupted his daily routine and it would affect the rest of his day. He did not say a word as he led him down a corridor and through several locked steel doors until they came to a suite of functional concrete offices that Bridger thought looked very similar to the Police interview rooms back in Dunedin. The Prison Officer indicated the first door on the right.
Bridger took a deep breath before entering the room, once he was in there they would close the door behind him and it would seal him in with a man who hated the very sight of him.
He stepped through the door and there behind the polished concrete slab that served as a desk sat Joseph Kingi senior. 'Big J' in all his menacing prison issue glory.
A heavyset man before he had come inside the walls it looked like he had trimmed down significantly from what Bridger remembered; now sporting huge bicep muscles and large muscular shoulders. The look on his face was neutral but that meant nothing as history showed he was capable of venting violent rages on unsuspecting people who mistook his mild manner for softness. He would go from sharing a beer with someone to kicking him unconscious in a second, for no other reason than he felt like it.
Bridger looked back at him, trying to hold eye contact for as long as possible, a futile attempt to gain the upper hand and show who the Alpha was.
A second Prison Officer was standing in the room with Joseph; he watched the slightly comical interaction with amusement, a small twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
"I will leave you two to it then shall I?” he said, "Press this button when you're finished or if you need help and we'll come and get you". The officer gave Joseph a look, and then indicated a small red button on the wall by the door, before stepping out of the room.
Bridger noticed the look that passed between the officer and Joseph. Was there a touch of hatred in the officer's eyes? On the other hand, it could just have been fear.
The steel door clanged shut behind him, leaving Bridger standing in the corner breathing in the stale air he was sure would run out before he finished what he came here for. He could have sworn he heard the mechanical sound of the lock barrel closing inside the door…
"Aren't you going to say hello Mike?”
Any thoughts of the door went when Joseph spoke; he always hated the way Joseph used his first name, as if they were old friends or contemporaries. A throw back from the old English gangster films where the local crime lord would have a love hate relationship with the lead Detective. They would share a pint of 'Old Peculier' in the smoky confines of a local pub; the bad guy would reminisce about past exploits almost foiled by his adversary sat across the table from him. It did not work like that in real life.
Get on the front foot right from the start, which is the way Bridger thought to play it.
"I understand you have some information you would like to share with me Mr Kingi," he said, looking at his notes so as not to have to look into Joseph’s eyes.
"Mr Kingi, I like that..., it makes me think you actually respect me...” Joseph responded. "But if that was true I wouldn't be in this fucking shit-hole would I". His voice hardened.
Bridger looked up from his notes and saw that the expression on his face had not changed to match his tone, but the look in his eyes had an edge to them as he regarded Bridger with a cold unflinching stare.
"I'm a busy man at the moment Mr Kingi, but I expect you know that already. I do not have time for games. What do you want?”
"You used to listen to what I had to say when I was on the outside, well this time I want to listen to what you have to say, but we'll get to that in a minute, so first things first... Sit". Joseph indicated the seat in front of the polished concrete slab.
Bridger thought about ignoring his request in a show of authority but that would just delay the proceedings and he would have to stay locked away from the outside world for longer than he wanted. He sat opposite Joseph and spread his files out on the table trying to gain ownership of the space around him. He did not look up until he was ready.
"Joseph, let's get one thing straight right from the start, you asked for this meeting. I am here of my own free will, I will be leaving here of my own free will at the end of this conversation. It is up to you what information I leave with and what it relates to. So please..., get on with it."
"I was hoping this would be more civil, but then that's never been your forte has it Mike". Joseph sniffed loudly and then cleared some mucus from his throat. "You're right about one thing though, you arrived here of your own free will..., but when you leave will be up to me". A sadistic smile played out on Joseph’s lips as he produced a small black cell phone and placed it on the table before them.
"When it rings..., answer it."
Parking across the road from 'The Pad', John shut off the engine. They could hear what sounded like a group of grown men barking like dogs from beyond the impenetrable fence.
This was followed by someone shouting 'It's the five ohh’, which only served to increase the level of barking and swearing.
Faces popping up over the fence, bloodshot eyes peered out from between tattoos, yellowing teeth bared, the welcoming committee.
"Not a lot of mirrors in there I'm guessing", John said, trying for a bit of levity to hide his discomfort.
They were taking a risk making inquiries at the place where the gang held all the power, but they could not afford to treat them any differently. Giving them special treatment would only reinforce their status within the community. If the police were afraid then the public would see that and react accordingly. It was best just to treat them the same way as everybody else. It still did not stop the very human reaction of fear whenever John thought about entering the lion’s den with no way out unless they wanted to let you go. The best meat was fresh meat and these 'Dogs' would tear you limb from limb without blinking, a violent sheep mentality.
"Just treat them like you would anyone else", John said as they walked over the road towards the entry gate. He was not sure if he believed it himself. "We will speak with J man first, but we will speak with anyone that was staying at the pad last night as well, we don't let J man tell us otherwise."
Jo just nodded in reply, wondering whether John actually knew what he was doing.
As they neared the gate the barking subsided, and then the gate opened. A big Maori male stepped into view, the gate closing behind him. He had dark sunglasses on, obscuring his eyes and blending with the green tinge of the tattoos on his face. Standing on the path, arms crossed over his massive chest, he was not quite the physique of an athlete as he had an equally massive stomach hanging over his belt. A smirk spread across his face as he regarded them with the disdain of someone who thought too much of himself and his position in life.
&nb
sp; "We've come to make some enquiries about the shooting last night over in the golf course." Jo spoke up, trying to get on the front foot and hide her nervousness.
"Well girly, you can make your en-quir-ees to me....” the male licked his lips as he looked her up and down taking in every curve of her slender frame with his hidden eyes.”I'll be gentle with you....”
John recognised the person standing in front of them, although they had never met. Bazz Ropata was the gang's 'Sergeant at Arms', a sort of in-house sheriff, someone who handled internal disciplinary problems and outside 'enquiries'.
"Well Barry...," John said. The sound of sniggering came from up on the fence line above them at the mention of his name, "You know as well as I do that if we can't speak with you lot now we will just assume you have something to hide. Then we come back with a search warrant and the Armed Offender Squad and turn the pad over hoping to find something. Who do you want to talk to..., us..., or the boys with the guns?"
The use of his first name had an effect on him and he sneered.
"Well Coppaa, there's nothing to hide here, so good luck with your warrant, now you's can fuck off..."
John was about to say something but was stopped by the gate swinging open behind Bazz.
"I'll take it from here Bazz". Joseph Kingi junior stood just outside the gate, his bulky frame filling most of the space. His eyes glued to Jo were red and blood shot, and his pupils looked like pinpricks.
A couple of barks sounded from above them, the minions encouraging the leader.
Jo's stomach did a cartwheel; she saw the recognition in his eyes.
"If you want to waste your time come through, ask what ever questions you's want, but you already know what the answers are going to be", he said, as he stood aside and gestured to the open gate.
Joseph's tone of voice had a silky but sleazy nuance. There was also a quiet menace hidden in his words, something Jo did not fail to notice. She looked at John for guidance but he had already started to move towards the gate, then like a moth drawn to flame, she could not help herself as she followed behind him. The curiosity of what lay beyond the fence overcoming any misgivings she may have had.
Bazz Ropata had fallen into step behind them as they entered the cauldron in case they changed their minds.
As soon as they were inside both Jo and John realised they had made a serious mistake underestimating the gang and Joseph's benign invitation. The gate slammed shut behind them, the minions jumping down from their parapets behind the fence and surrounding them to the rear. Hyped up and stoned off their heads, they edged closer and closer to the two police officers.
"So Coppaa’s what do you want to ask then?" Joseph was looking at his underlings spread out around the bare yard. "We are all ears".
Jo spoke up, looking everywhere but at Joseph.
"As you know there was a shooting last night, over in the trees beside the golf course. Tama Wilson was shot to death".
There were a few murmurs of acknowledgment from within the group.
"I understand that you all knew him and I am sorry for the loss of your friend", Jo looked directly at Joseph now, "If you saw anything, or know anything about who may have shot him, I am sure you will let us know so we can prosecute whoever did this....". She looked around at the group again, "You don't have to speak up now. You can come and see us in private and complete confidence".
A few stifled laughs came from the audience before her, but most of the gang members were looking to Joseph for their direction, quiet in their loyalty to the leader.
"Well you've certainly grown a pair of balls since we last met", Joseph said, watching Jo with amusement. "But you’re still a naive little bitch who is playing a game she doesn't belong in.... You know nothing about us do you Girly".
Jo was shocked with the reaction, to her dismay redness spread up her neck and into her cheeks.
"What the fuck.... This girl thinks we are a pack of Narcs," Bazz said loudly from behind them. "Dogs don't diss their brothers’ bitch", he whispered in Jo's ear. Barking loudly he made her jump.
More barks started coming from the crowd, faces twisting, teeth bared, things were getting ugly.
John was trying his best to calm things down but was not succeeding. "It's time we left I think Jo", he said, all the colour had leeched out of his cheeks.
The dogs were circling now, almost baying for blood. All around them they could see only high fences made of wood and tin, crates of empty beer bottles were stacked against the fence, cans littered the ground displaying the culture within the cauldron of the gang environment they were trapped in. The one small gate that promised a safe exit had shut tightly behind them.
John got his cell phone out of his pocket, but someone knocked it to the ground and crushed it under a heavy boot.
Hands grabbed at Jo from behind, running inside her jacket over her stomach and under her breasts. Her phone was taken from the inside pocket and it suffered the same fate as John's.
"You're in our world now Piggy Piggy's, welcome...."
A fist came out of nowhere and slammed into Johns face, knocking his head sideways. Jo felt something wet land on her cheek; wiping it with her hand, she could see it was blood.
John was staggering, his eyes starting to glaze over, another fist connected with his jaw, a sickening crunch. His legs gave way and he dropped to his knees, blood dripping from his mouth. The pack fell upon him like ravenous animals, all wanting their share of flesh. The barking was at frenzy.
Jo's instinct was to protect John but she felt herself being grabbed roughly from behind and pulled off her feet. They were dragging her towards the main building.
"Where gonna have us some fun bitch", an ugly voice said in her ear.
While being dragged closer to her own fate, she could see John curled up on the ground desperately trying to protect his head from the frenzied attack.
His assailants were just boys really, probably the young prospects trying to outdo each other and gain the attention of their elders. There were two cowards putting in more effort than the rest, kicking at John's head, really going to town. She took in their faces while they dragged her roughly up the front stairs. She would remember those two if she could, they would not get away with it, whatever the outcome.
John's helpless pitiful figure lying amidst the howling dogs watched over by the pack leader disappeared from view as they took her further into the hallway. They shoved her into a stale smelling room with only a stinking mattress and a fetid sheet covering it for furnishing and the realisation hit her like a sledgehammer. She felt her stomach go weak and she nearly wet herself right there on the floor. They were going to rape her.
She turned and lashed out at her captor, running on the instinct for survival that all living things have in them. Her arms were moving of their own accord as she scratched and clawed at the tattooed face in front of her. An evil smile looked back at her from the blur, a gold tooth glinting from inside Bazz Ropata's mouth. A huge fist came out of nowhere and connected squarely with her forehead, and then everything went black.
Wasted Lives, a Detective Mike Bridger novel Page 10