CHAPTER FORTY
Nate paced the floor of the police station, wondering how much longer it might take. Margaret had been in with the officers for a couple of hours now, and Lewis and Maureen were getting hungry. A canteen was on the next floor, but he was reluctant to leave the waiting area in case he caused panic in Margaret. They’d not had a chance to even exchange a word in private since his arrival that morning so he still had no idea what had happened between his mother and his lover, aside from the very basic information Maureen had been able to share.
“Mummy arrived at the park, Grandmother and she said some mean words to each other and we stayed with Mummy. Last night we went to her work, and looked after ourselves while she worked - she looked very pretty in a beautiful frock! We didn’t really like it at Grandmas. And yesterday Mummy took us shopping for some clothes.” She smiled at him and pirouetted in her new dress. “See? And Lewis is wearing new clothes too.”
“Very nice. You both look lovely. We just have to wait for as long as it takes for Mummy to finish with the nice policemen and then we’ll go home. OK?”
Now a long while later, they’d played I Spy, made up stories, and walked the corridor in tippy-toe races to pass the time, and still there was no sign of her emerging. Nate looked at his watch again, and noting it was now nearly 2 pm, he decided it was best to duck down to the cafeteria after all and at least bring back some refreshments in case it dragged on a lot longer. Taking Lewis with him, he settled Maureen with a National Geographic magazine, assured her they’d not be too long and wandered off down the corridor to the stairs.
Inside the room Margaret had disappeared into earlier with the two police officers who had brought them there, another man was waiting, a plain clothes detective who was in charge of the case. He didn’t have too much riding on the find of a man who looked to have been a vagrant, beaten in what looked to have been maybe a fair fight judging by the bruised knuckles and bruises on the man’s body. Carl Smith was not particularly interested in what kind of fights men like this had won or lost but if there was anything unusual in the case, he was required to investigate it before the case file was closed. The fact that this man had a photo of a woman who as it turned out was a small-time local celebrity singer at Bennett’s Bar, and was most likely the woman who was dressed like a man, all in black, and escorted home by Constable George Williams on maybe the same night as this mystery man may have died, did lend some ‘interesting’ perspective to the case.
“Mrs McKenzie, please let me just clarify for a final time. The facts are these: The man whose body we have found, based on the photo we’ve shown you, appears to be that of Thomas Morris, your husband? And yet you go by the name of Mrs Margaret McKenzie, and have a relationship with, and children by, another man, Mr Nathaniel Cook of Cookson’s department store. This man Morris, you married in 1948 in order to keep your first child from being taken by social services, but in fact you were having an affair with Mr Cook - with whom you’ve been involved with since before the war? Am I right so far?”
“Yes, that is correct.” Margaret was tired, and worried about her children, and needed to go to the toilet, but had been promised this would be simply routine and she’d be free to go after they clarified the relationship status of herself with regards to the man’s body. She decided it was easier to stick to the basic facts and deny all knowledge of anything else, including her awareness of Thomas in Sydney.
“And the last time you saw Mr Morris was at your home in February, when he appeared with Mr Cook’s now deceased wife?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sure you must realize by now that this is rather unusual.”
“Perhaps. But I still don’t see what I can tell you aside from this, because I don’t know anything more.” Margaret winced and wondered how long her bladder would hold. “Really, Mr Smith, I would like very much to go to the ladies’ room, and of course I am happy to help you clear up anything necessary but if I’m not under arrest, I very much want to go home and take care of my children.”
The officer looked at Carl Smith and each man seemed to reach an unspoken agreement. The officer stood up and gestured to Margaret that she may also take a break. As she reached the door however, Carl spoke once more. Mrs McKenzie, I wonder if given that all you’ve told us so far is as straightforward as you say, then why were you sleeping in a doorway, dressed in black pants at 3 am last Wednesday morning?”
At that, Margaret blanched visibly and turned away, desperate to hide any expression on her face from the men in the room. Too late, the uniformed officers would be able to report to Smith that she had looked very unwell in that moment. She was escorted to the powder room, while Nate was down at the canteen, and returning to the room walking past him, Maureen and Lewis, with a draw pale face and sad eyes, she was unable to say more than ‘not long now I hope’ before the interview room door closed once more behind her.
“Mrs McKenzie, I trust you are feeling a little refreshed. I have had a pot of tea ordered, and while we wait, I wonder if you would mind answering my question. What were you doing sleeping in a shop doorway on Wednesday morning, dressed in black pants and shirt - which I’m sure you might admit must have looked quite good on a woman like yourself but somehow I don’t quite see that as your usual style of dress. And given the timing of your ‘adventurous night’ you might indeed see that overall ‘the plot thickens’ as we like to say around here.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
“I want to know if I’m under arrest for anything.”
“No, of course not Mrs McKenzie, or Morris, or whatever your name might be. We’re simply having a friendly conversation and clearing up some rather unusual threads to an investigation into the death of your, err, husband.” Carl picked up his pen and swung back on the two rear legs of his chair, something he’d done since childhood. He found it disarmed some people in this room, because he’d perfected the art of going almost vertically backward without losing his balance, and knew it was something that people looked at and often let down their guard enough to give something away in those moments. As 33 years of age, Carl had studied people in a way that bookies study horses and tracks for nearly 20 years. He loved his job because it gave him a chance to nut out human beings, being presented with often the worst of them on a daily basis. This woman though, had some particularly interesting characteristics. She was like no one else he’d ever met and he was determined to work her out.
“If I’m not under arrest then I either want to leave now, or call my lawyer.” Margaret boldly returned his level gaze and waited. Finally, he fell forward on his chair and then stood up.
“You are welcome to go anytime.” He gestured with a wide slow sweep of his arm towards the door. “However, we may wish to invite you back, so please, don’t go too far so that we can’t find you.”
Margaret rose and clutching her purse, walked stiffly towards the door and exited without a backward glance. Maureen and Lewis were curled up sleepily on the floor in the corner of the waiting room, resting on each other, while Nate was stretched out on a hard-backed chair, loosened tie, hat on the chair beside and him arms folded on his chest. It was nearly 3 pm and it had been a very long day. “Hi, let’s go.” She said to Nate and bent down to stir the children. “Come on kids, it’s time we went home.” She smiled and gave them each a hug and a kiss on the top of their sleepy heads, and holding each hand walked bravely out of the station and waited for Nate to hail a taxi.
No one spoke until they reached her boarding house. Upstairs, she tucked both of the children into bed for a nap before dinner and beckoned Nate to follow her downstairs and out to the veranda of the building.
Finally, outside they wandered a little way down the street talking quietly. Not sure if there was any chance of her being observed by the police, the need for discretion weighed heavily upon her. “I assume your mother alerted you to the change in our plans? What has she told you so far?”
“Nothing yet, I’ve not seen her. I rec
eived a telegram yesterday saying only that you had the kids, and to come right away. I came straight from the airport to you this morning and arrived just as the police were knocking on your door. You know everything else.” He paused, tapped out a cigarette from a packet in his pocket, lit it and leaned against the lamp post they’d halted by, smoking it slowly as he looked at her. “So, do you mind telling me what’s going on exactly?”
“Where do I start?” Margaret smiled wryly. “All I know is that I arrived at the park on Sunday as planned and your mother was there with the kids and the nanny. The whole situation ended up being that my only choice was to bring the kids home with me. Besides, I doubt they’d have left my side anyway.”
“And this business with the police today? What’s that all about?”
Margaret sighed, drained emotionally even further by the very idea of having to relay the entire situation about Thomas Morris. She glanced about and indicated they should continue walking and so headed back in the direction they came from and wandered slowly past the boarding house. As they walked, she explained briefly that her husband’s body had been found beaten and bloodied a building site down by the bridge, and a photo in a pocket of her led them to here today.”
“Has he been to see you?” Nate thought she would have said if that was the case, but then perhaps not? He felt a lump in his throat as he asked the question. It nearly choked him.
“No!” No, I have not seen him since February.” She was quick to reassure him but also refrained from adding the words ‘not alive anyway’ to her response.
“Do you know why he was here? How he died?”
Margaret simply looked at him and shook her head.
“Do you know anything?”
Looking back at him, as he implored her to share more, she wondered how much she really should say. The fact that the police had somehow tied her late-night adventure to the timing of the death of her husband was inconvenient, but may still be easily explained somehow. She’d think on that later. Tired, and in need of some sleep and alone time to think about everything, she changed the subject.
“What do we do now about the children?” she asked.
Nate really had no idea. And simply shrugged his shoulders in reply.
“What will your mother do?”
“I don’t really know. On the one hand, we are both now free to marry, so her assertion of your being an unfit mother due to being unwed is no longer going to hold much weight. I can easily make arrangements for us to return to Auckland anytime now. But then I don’t quite see how I can do all of that without greatly upsetting her, and my father for that matter.”
Margaret leaned into him a little as they stopped at the corner to return to the boarding house. She needed to simply let some time pass and wait for him to resolve a few things, she knew that. But having life remain up in the air all around her was hard and she was ready for the night ahead to be a sleepless one. Arriving back at the boarding house, she assured Nate that it was best for him to return to his mother and find out what might happen there after the events of Sunday, and then they’d meet again the next day. Upstairs, she sat on the end of the bed and watched her son and daughter sleeping peacefully for half an hour before waking them gently from their nap for some dinner.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Nathaniel was not expecting a warm greeting. He was unsure if his mother would even want to speak with him. She was known for blowing hot and cold sometimes when things were happening that displeased her. Sometimes she’d rant and rave and other times she was quiet and controlled. He preferred the ranting - at least it was a little more predictable. However, as he entered the front room where she was taking tea after supper, he encountered a woman he barely recognized. Beyond controlled, she was icy and had tapped into the depths of her mean streak to deliver a brutal blow as he bent to kiss her cheek in greeting.
“Mother.”
“How was your flight?” Monotone did not suit her, but she was clearly in no mood to color her words.
“Delayed.” He knew that she would guess the flight would have landed much earlier in the day but saw no reason to displease her further by being obvious about his diverting to the city. She seemed to ignore him as she sipped her tea. The silence dragged on interminably. He waited for her to say anything and finally decided to tackle the issues himself.
“So, what happened on Sunday?”
“How did you know it was Sunday?”
He shifted in his seat a little, uncomfortable with the fact that he’d immediately given away the fact he’d spoken with Margaret already. “Come now Mother, let’s put the games aside shall we? Some straight talk with honest answers is required and anything less is surely beneath us.”
She answered with a glare so icy that it might have surprised a penguin. He continued.
“Yes, I saw Margaret and the children, today. I went there first. Best to have the necessary information before negotiating anything, isn’t that our way?”
“You consider this a matter for negotiation?”
“Don’t you?” he stood up and putting his hands in his pockets, started to pace the floor. You took the kids because you were angry and upset about Anthea. And, let’s face it, you always wanted grandchildren and saw that it was unlikely to ever happen in my marriage, but thought it might serve well enough to take my son under your influence. A perfect arrangement aside from the fact that my daughter…”
“She’s not your daughter! She’s a bastard child who is just like her mother. And not therefore appropriate to be raised with my grandson.”
“She’s my daughter. In my eyes, and in my heart, she is absolutely my daughter and I won’t have you talk about her that way. I now intend to marry Margaret and adopt Maureen to ensure that becomes official!”
“Over my dead body!”
“If necessary!” Nathaniel was building up to his own level of mean and was not prepared to back down now. “Mother, you have controlled everything in my life up to now. But no more. I married the woman you picked out for me and I’ve been miserable for years. I tolerated the friends you decided I should have since I was a child, and only really feel like a normal man when I’m away from you. I’ll not have you influence my children, or my decisions any more. I’m a 40 year old man for God’s sake!”
“You think I can’t still influence you?” She leveled her gaze at him, shooting daggers from her eyes. “What will you do when you can no longer run the family business?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! Who else is going to run it?”
“Your father can hold off retirement until we develop new people. Or we can sell the company. You think we need you? You are wrong.”
“I’ve already spoken with Father about his stepping back and preparing for the future. He’s ready. You need to back away, Mother. This is not your decision.”
“It damn well is!”
“For God sake, you cannot control everything! Stop it. Let it go!” Nathaniel picked up his hat and started for the door.
“You are not to marry that whore!”
“You can’t stop me mother - and if you call her that again, you’ll not be invited to the wedding.”
“I won’t watch you throw your life away!”
“Then you most certainly won’t be invited to spend any time with my family - not for Christmas, birthdays, or any other time. That means you won’t get to see your grandson grow up either.”
“What grandson?” she returned, quietly, with her intent clear - she would not acknowledge Lewis as part of her family.
Nathaniel left the room, glancing at Marija as he mounted the stairs. She gave him a brief nod of greeting and returned to the kitchen. ‘Best to leave Mrs Cook alone for a while’, she thought with a grim smile.
Nathaniel reached his rooms and turned the door handle to enter. He was feeling incredibly tense; the argument with his mother was unpleasant to be sure. But this feeling of heaviness in his chest was perhaps a sign of the additional stress he’d been f
eeling all day. He sat on the edge of his bed and removed his shoes and jacket before laying back on the pillows to close his eyes for a few minutes. He hoped that by morning everything would in fact make a lot more sense that it did just then. Drifting off, he wondered at the feeling of nausea building in his gut, and put it down to the evening so far and the lack of a proper dinner. He decided to rest for a while longer before investigating his hunger and exploring what he might be able to find in the kitchen later.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Margaret waited. The hours ticked by and still no sign of Nate. The children were restless and they picked at their food. She herself was not particularly hungry and found herself time and again checking her watch. She finally cleared the table and Maureen wiped Lewis’ face and took him back upstairs while Margaret quickly washed and dried the dishes.
Joining them in her room, she cast about and took note of all her possessions and decided to start packing their collected clothing and personal effects into two suitcases. Realizing that she’d need at least one more bag, she put off the packing until the next day, decided that a little shopping would be necessary and told the kids a story before tucking them into bed for the night. It had been a long day of doing nothing, waiting for Nate and she’d not wanted to leave her rooms until he arrived. She was sure he’d come today. Apparently not.
She wondered if Solange might be available for her to visit the next day and decided that instead of calling ahead, she’d get up the next day and take the children to see her, say goodbye, and shop for the few things they felt they might need before making final arrangements to return to Auckland. Sure that Nate would at least turn up the next day, she felt that having wasted one day waiting, she’d simply have to leave in the morning regardless to run some errands, and hope that Mrs Harris would give him a message.
Rhythm and Rhyme Page 14