Du Rose Family Ties

by Bowes, K T

  “Now me.” The rear seat passenger pushed himself into the gap between the seats but his wide girth proved impossible to shove through the small space. He grunted and complained but remained stuck, his pale face pointing upwards with a look of desperation.

  The haze of blue and red became fixed in a single spot up ahead and the driver panicked. “We don’t have time for this. Sorry, dude.”

  Hana watched as the men let the door down until it clicked shut and their companion’s cries became muffled. “He’ll drown,” she stated and the other men glanced at one another and ignored her.

  “Why did you drive into the ditch?” the passenger demanded as both men cast around them, trying to get their bearings.

  “I didn’t!” The driver sounded indignant. “The tyre popped. I dunno why. I couldn’t hold the steering straight after that.” He pointed towards the driver’s side tyre which still spun in midair as the vehicle sank further into the ditch on its side. “Look. It’s flat.”

  Hana slipped and slid on the bank, her lone slipper burying itself deep into the soggy mud. The bubbling stream looked too near for comfort and she pulled her foot out with a sucking sound, battling to free the other with its unsalvageable sock.

  “Grab her. We’ll go off-road and hide until our back-up gets here.”

  “Gets where? Where the hell are we?” The passenger lurched for Hana and she stepped away and fell onto her backside.

  “There’s a place near here. We pick up another vehicle if we get into trouble.”

  “Where’s here? Why pay us to move her under a hundred kilometres? It doesn’t feel right. We need to get nearer to the main state highway.”

  “We’re north of Hamilton. We need to hide for a few days and then finish her off like he said. He can’t give us the rest of the cash until he gets paid.”

  The passenger lurched again for Hana and she wiggled away backwards, leaving him stuck in the mud. “Help me with her. We need to get moving.”

  “Hey!” The muffled cries of the rear seat passenger grew louder as the vehicle gave a lurch and became more immersed in the ditch. Water ran over its front left headlamp, making the waves and bubbles shimmer in the dim light.

  “What the hell’s that?”

  Hana peered over the side of the ditch, seeing the rural road stretch out before her like a flat piece of grey string weaving away into the darkness ahead. The red and blue police lights flashed into the night sky. Her eyes struggled to focus as the passenger lurched for her hard, his feet slipping and causing him to slam her face first into the bank again. He landed on top of her and blood pooled on her top lip from a bleeding nose.

  A black figure appeared in the centre of the road, its lower half obscured by tufts of grass and the uneven bank in front of Hana’s face. The lights from the police blockade back-lit its progress. She wriggled out from beneath the flailing man, roots and rough stones grazing her skin through her clothing. Closer, closer the dark shape moved towards her in her peripheral vision and she held her breath.

  “There’s someone there!” The driver’s voice hiked as the newcomer walked forward at a confident pace. Fearless he came, his outline picked up in the headlights like a ghoul. He held a shotgun in front of him, his eye already against the sight and a black balaclava pulled over his features.

  “What should I do?” The driver spun on the spot and slipped sideways, almost taking the recovering passenger back down with him. “Who is it?” No answer.

  “It’s a cop. He won’t shoot us,” the passenger snarled.

  “That’s not a cop.” The driver’s eyes widened and his irises glinted, reflecting the light from the single unbroken headlamp.

  “Back up boys.” The gun barrel moved from one to the other and the men cringed. “Don’t think I won’t do it.” The voice sounded low and emitted as a snarl. “I’d love to spray your ugly faces all over this car.”

  “Help!” The man inside the vehicle sounded frantic, his body looking like a failed planking session in the half-submerged car.

  The newcomer snorted and his eyes narrowed behind the balaclava. “Turn around and put your hands against the car.”

  “It’s slipping!”

  “Hold on tight then.”

  “You shot out the tyre!” The driver slipped onto his backside and his right leg became stuck beneath the car. He gave a blood curdling wail of pain.

  “You doubled crossed us; we want the rest of our money,” the passenger griped. “You can’t just take the woman.”

  “Shut up.” The stranger kept the gun trained on the men one handed. His easy confidence with the weapon showed that firing wouldn’t be a problem. He bent at the knees and offered Hana his other hand. When she shrank back from him, he wiggled his gloved fingers in the universal motion of ‘come here.’

  Hana heard him sigh with annoyance. “Take my hand.”

  She yelped and lurched at the offered lifeline, letting him haul her up the dirty bank. The only part of his body showing through the balaclava was the space where his eyes glared through. Hana steadied her breathing and tried to ignore the pain of her soaked and threadbare sock on the rough road surface. The gun levelled at the face of the passenger who looked up at him and the newcomer’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Wait here and don’t look back,” he snarled. “I’m not alone and my colleagues will blow you away without a second thought.”

  Another man appeared from the shadows and aimed a bigger gun at the two men plastered against the sinking vehicle. With a nod, Hana’s new captor grabbed at her sleeve and tugged her towards him. “Walk,” he snapped, authority in his voice. Staring back at the half submerged vehicle, she watched as her assailants turned as one and lurched towards the slight man left on guard. They failed even before they clambered two steps up the slippery bank. He felled them both, the first with a swift kick to the head and the second, by grabbing his hair and smashing his face into the black clad knee. Hana gasped and gave a tiny yelp. “Don’t look back.” The man’s gloved hand reached out and clasped her freezing fingers, closing them into his palm and yanking her away.

  She stumbled behind him as he picked up speed, alarmed when he veered off the road and plunged into a wooded area. “Wait!” she cried and he halted for a second and then ploughed on. “I don’t have shoes!”

  He tutted and returned for her, wielding the shotgun in his left hand as he dipped his body and tipped her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. Moonlight filtered through the trees and Hana watched the rugged ground pass beneath her. They moved with stealth and the bushman’s heartbeat aligned with hers, carrying her as though she weighed little more than a bag of flour. The red and blue emergency lights faded into the distance and Hana sighed with relief. At a clearing open to the night sky, the man bent and allowed her feet to touch the ground strewn with fern fronds. Hana’s legs gave out and she crumpled into a ball in a circle of five black clad figures.

  “Hey.” Logan pulled his ski mask off and squatted on his haunches next to her. “How’re you doing?”

  Hana nodded and wiped her nose on her cuff. “I killed a man.”

  Logan smiled. “Na, ya didn’t. I’m real proud of you, wahine.”

  A silent tear rolled from the eye furthest away from Logan and Hana’s chest hitched. “I want to go home,” she whispered and Logan nodded.

  “I know, babe. But right now, you need to leave with these guys.”

  “No!” Hana shrieked. “Don’t leave me!”

  Logan reached in and kissed her bloodied lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t go far.” He hefted the shotgun across his knees and jerked his head towards it. “But if they find me here and realise I shot out the tyre with my grandfather’s unlicensed gun; you know they’ll arrest me.”

  “The men said there’s a helicopter.” Hana spoke as the circle of figures pressed closer.

  “Na, just road cops.” Logan lowered his voice. “But I can hear the sirens, Hana. I need to get out of here.”

  “They’ll kn
ow who you are,” she hissed and he shook his head.

  “Na, they won’t.” Logan hefted the gun in gloved hands. “This is Poppa Henri’s old shooter. I’ll take it home and hide it. But I need to go now or you know what will happen to me.”

  Hana nodded and accepted another kiss. “What do I tell the cops?” she asked with a disgusting sniff.

  Logan inhaled. “Tell them everything but not Dressler’s name. I don’t want the cops looking for his sons either or they’ll hear how I gave Flick safe house, knowing a warrant existed with his name on it.”

  “Then they’ll get away with it.” Hana’s eyes widened in futility. “He’ll come back for me and I won’t escape a second time.”

  Logan’s lips drew back in an ugly expression. “No, he won’t.” His eyes resembled lumps of dark coal in the moonlight. “Trust me, Hana.” Jaw flexing and teeth grinding, he bent one last time and pressed his lips against her forehead. Hana clung onto Logan’s dark jacket until it slipped through her fingers. He melted into the darkness and Hana swallowed as the nearest figure reached for her. She shrank back but his grip felt insistent and exhaustion forced her into submission.

  “We get you to children.” The voice sounded muffled through the mask and Hana nodded.

  “Children,” she repeated.

  “Come, Meese Du Rosa,” the Asian voice said and Hana stood and accepted his outstretched arm.

  Chapter 61

  An Old Adversary

  The paddocks between Horsham Downs and Lake Road took an age to traverse. Hana trudged without awareness, allowing herself to be led by the small man in front and flanked by the other four. She fell and they picked her up. She stumbled and they righted her. Bruised and bleeding, with one foot sodden and the other numb, Hana made the journey without complaint.

  Clouds scudded across the sky, shielding the moon’s face from revealing the small company of travellers. Vehicles moved up and down the road parallel to their path, headlights sweeping the route like snow ploughs. The final paddock ended at a hawthorn hedge and the lead man halted the group with a simple hand signal. “Wait!” he hissed when Hana missed the cue and she found herself hauled backwards and a hand slipped over her mouth.

  The first man breached the hedge at the junction between two bushes, clearing the post and rail fence without touching it. Hana strained her ears and heard an engine start and the first man’s face appeared in the gap, a pair of eyes peeking out through his balaclava. “Come!” he ordered Hana, beckoning with a black-gloved hand. Doubtful, she turned to look at the other faces, taking in the slanted Oriental eyes and the single-minded fearlessness in their expression.

  “I don’t know,” she started and as one, they pushed her towards the fence. A smaller man tapped her on the shoulder and inclined his head.

  “You will be safe, Du Rose daughter. Trust.”

  Hana closed her eyes. There it was again, that word she couldn’t process. Trust. She inhaled, exhaled and nodded with determination, seeing the collective pairs of eyes around her turn upwards in smiles. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice croaky and sore. “Thank you.”

  As one, they bowed low and then helped her over the fence. Her body proved clunky and awkward, refusing to obey even the simplest of instructions. She fell in the gravel on the other side and picked herself up again. The first man followed her over and helped her to her feet, waving his arm towards the vehicle parked in the layby. “You go now,” he said and bowed again.

  The rear door of the limousine slid open with a gentle whir, untouched by human hands. Hana shielded her eyes from the glare of the bright interior and took a sharp intake of breath at the woman reclining in the rear seat. “Mrs Che,” she breathed.

  “Meesa Du Rosa,” the Triad queen replied, beckoning with a long, slender hand adorned with enough gold to snap the delicate bones. “We should get you home, no?”

  Hana swallowed and took a step towards the plush vehicle, embarrassed about the state of her dress. Mrs Che raised a perfect black eyebrow and inclined her head. “Do not worry, Meesa Du Rosa. You are welcome here.”

  Hana clambered into the seat opposite and the door closed behind her with the same electrical whirr. She held onto the edge of the seat as the Limo pulled out onto Lake Road and picked up speed. “Where are we going?” she rasped, watching the Waikato landscape whip past.

  “To your home at the school,” the formidable woman replied. She glanced at Hana’s feet. “You escape and walk there. Tell policemen that story. Your husband is waiting for you.” The old lady extended a manicured hand towards the seat opposite and inclined her head. “Change your attire. Your clothing contains DNA and that is now my concern.”

  Hana swallowed. Their last encounter weighed on her heart, tainted by suspicion and fear. “How did you find me?” she asked and Mrs Che chuckled, a low sinister sound.

  “It is our role to know everything,” she murmured. “We listen to the chatter and wait to help our favourite son. Logan Du Rosa is my husband’s honourary érzi. I know you do not like it, but we will always respond to his call to action.”

  Hana nodded, reaching for the bag of clothes. She glanced at the passing landscape and Mrs Che smiled. “Nobody will see through windows,” she said, her narrowed eyes holding a glint of pleasure.

  Hana stripped off her soiled outer clothing but left her underwear on, pulling the clean hoodie over her head. She swayed with the movement of the vehicle as she eyed her filthy socks against the laundered tracksuit pants. “I think my feet are bleeding,” she said, looking up at the oriental princess opposite.

  “Leave on your socks,” Mrs Che ordered. “The police will get only mud from them.”

  Hana accepted her direction and pushed her feet into the legs of the pants, hauling them up over her thighs and bottom. She forced reluctant toes into the dirty slipper and then sat, feeling awkward under the woman’s scrutiny.

  Her eyes drooped as she clung to the seat as the driver made the turn onto River Road and started back towards Hamilton.

  The limo ran over a pot hole and the jerk startled Hana back to wakefulness. “I’m grateful to you,” she said, as Mrs Che observed her through dark, gimlet eyes. Hana shrank back against the plush leather seat. “What will happen now?”

  “We drop you on road outside school where there are no cameras. You go home.”

  “That simple?” Hana wiped her nose on her sleeve. “It can’t be that easy.”

  “Life is easy.” Mrs Che folded her arms. “We make it hard for selves. Is easy if we stay focussed. Concentrate only on what matter. All else, disregard.”

  Hana accepted the advice given in Mrs Che’s stilted English and swayed in her seat. Soft classical music played through a small speaker near her head and lulled her into a sense of security so profound, it felt impossible to leave. When the vehicle slowed on Maui Street and the door next to Hana opened, she slid her foot out onto the rail and stood. “Thank you,” she said, inclining her head to the regal woman who ran security for her husband’s illegal business in Auckland’s underbelly. “Please give my regards to Mr Che. I’m not sure we’ll meet again, but I’m very grateful for your help.”

  Mrs Che blinked slitted dark eyes and her thin lips quirked up into a smile. “We will meet again,” she replied and bowed her head. Hana stepped back in surprise as the door closed in her face and the sleek car slid away even before it clicked shut. Tinted windows muted all light apart from the glowing red reflectors on the tail lights.

  Hana stood on the pavement next to the iron railings surrounding the school grounds and peered down at her feet. The cleanliness of the fresh pants seemed incongruous against a sock which looked indistinguishable from the ruined slipper. She turned towards the main gate a hundred metres along the road and began her slow trudge back to her temporary home.

  Chapter 62

  Treachery

  “Mum!” Bodie stood in the hallway speaking on the phone and jumped as Hana walked through the unlocked front door. He looked ex
hausted and his police shirt hung from his waistband like a curtain. “She’s home. Gotta go.” He ended the call and ran to Hana, scooping her into his arms. “Mum, I’m so sorry. Let’s start again, can we?”

  Hana nodded, the movement restricted by his arms around her head.

  “She’s back!” Bodie yelled, so loud above Hana’s ears the sound pained her. “It’s Mum!”

  Leslie caused a bottleneck in the kitchen doorway, her round backside preventing anyone else leaving the room. She screeched in Māori and waved her arms around until Logan gave her a shove out of the way.

  “Hana.” He stopped in front, waiting for Bodie to release her. The younger man let go and Logan’s arms replaced his. “Everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s over.”

  Hana nodded and glanced down at his faded blue jeans and the white tee shirt he favoured. Her brow knitted in confusion and he gave a slow shake of his head to silence her. “We’ve been so worried,” he said and his voice faltered. His acting skills looked honed to perfection, but the sentiments beneath the words held truth.

  “What the hell happened?” Bodie urged, ever the policeman.

  “Just give her a minute, will ya?” Logan’s eyes flashed danger and Bodie stepped back.

  Hana’s heart sank as a familiar shape appeared in the doorway and Detective Chief Inspector Odering leaned against the frame, arms crossed at his chest. “Mrs Du Rose,” he said with a frown. “Where do we begin this time?” He wielded a police radio in one hand and chattered into it to announce her arrival.

  “With a shower, I hope,” she said, her throat rasping from lack of fluid. “And a drink. I need a drink.”

  The inspector raised an eyebrow at Bodie and Hana’s son cringed. “Sorry, Mum. We need your clothing for evidence.”