by K T Bowes
“What you doin’?” The voice made me jump and Teina’s body went still. I slid off sideways and Teina cleared his throat and spread my skirt over his crotch, revealing my knickers to the small child stood on top of the dune. I wrestled the fabric back out of his fingers and he sat up using his stomach muscles and wrapped his arms around his knees. I shielded my eyes and looked up at the little boy, fixing an appropriate smile on my face.
“Hello.”
“My sister an’ her boyfriend’s been doin’ that.” The child wiped his nose on his hand and pointed at Teina. “Me dad’s just give ‘im a slap.”
“Oh.” I snorted and Teina shoved my leg. “We’re going home now,” I said, hoping the child would get the hint and leave. I rolled my eyes at Teina and his body rocked with silent laughter. I stood up and sand coursed down my legs, feeling as though it had gotten everywhere. I hauled Teina up whilst trying not to laugh and the small boy watched us walk away.
“That was close.” Teina winced and caught my hand in his, lifting it to his lips.
“Which part?” I laughed out loud and then glanced behind me at the sentry watching our progress up the beach. “The bit where you got horny in a public place, or the bit where we got caught?”
“I got horny?” Teina shoved me in jest and I giggled and set off running along the sand. I heard him breathing behind me, controlled puffs of air which put his extreme fitness on display. After a few hundred metres my lungs burned and my legs felt like jelly. I stopped and bent to clutch my knees, squealing as Teina caught me up in strong arms and swung me around. He set me down on the wet sand and spun me, pulling me into his chest. His lips felt soft against my neck and he ran his hands through my hair, snagging his fingers in the tangled curls.
“What is this, Ms Saint?” he whispered, resting his forehead against mine.
“I’m not sure.” I answered truthfully but our return to Auckland hung over me like a dark cloud. My carefree mood evaporated and I grew tense, not wanting the day to end but knowing it had to.
Chapter 32
The journey home seemed to take less time and we touched the fringes of crowded Auckland in under two hours. “Thanks for today,” I said, leaning across the centre console and kissing Teina. He parked under a street lamp and the light glinted off his hair leaving streaks of silvery white.
“Sorry you lost your shoes,” he said with a grin, running his fingers up the side of my neck and watching their lascivious progress. “I think I know when it happened.”
“Me too.” I smiled, remembering the kiss and where it might have gone. I imagined my canvas shoes sitting on the sand where they slithered unnoticed, the child still watching over them in the darkness.
I froze at the sight of the police car sitting further up the road, its fluorescent colours muted in the darkness. I didn’t want Teina to see my demise and kissed him again one last time, hungry to communicate my affection. “I could love you,” I whispered, dreaming of a life I’d never have and he opened his mouth in surprise. “Bye, Teina,” I said, sliding out of the car barefoot. “Think well of me.”
“Ursula!” he called, alarm in his voice. I slammed the door and skipped up the front steps, jabbing my key in the lock and trying not to look at his confused face in the reflection on the glass of the front door.
The lift cranked upstairs, taking an age to reach the third floor amidst worrying judders and shakes which failed to stem my growing sense of foreboding. I pushed the front door open and held my breath, fingering the hem of my dress in trembling fingers like a child as the two policemen rose from my sofa. Jack looked at me with regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Ula. I had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.” I stared at him, the numbness turning my face blank. I glanced down at my toes, seeing the black sand particles clinging to my skin. Raglan and Teina’s kisses seemed an age ago.
“Where’ve you been?” Jack demanded, putting his hands on his hips. I glared at him and wondered how I’d ever loved his charm and easy good looks. He hadn’t fought for me then and he wouldn’t now.
“Out with a friend.” I stood my ground and turned my gaze towards the police officers, uniformed and awkward in my space. My eyebrow raised in expectation. “What do you want?”
“We need to speak to you about a laptop which our officer here brought into the station.” The cop had a gentle manner and looked older than his colleague.
“What laptop?” I shook my head, feigning ignorance.
Both cops’ eyes darted to Jack and back to me. “It was found here, miss. In your possession. It relates to enquiries currently being made about a fraud.”
I put my hands on my hips and shrugged. “Was it a grey laptop?” I drew a rectangle with my fingers. “About so big?”
“It would be best if you came down to the station, miss,” the younger cop said, his voice calm and passive, aimed at soothing the silly woman in the room. “The detective leading the case will speak to you there.”
“Fine.” My heart beat fast but I acted like a West End superstar and gave a polite smile. “The first time I saw the laptop, he had it.” I pointed at Jack. “After we fell out and he left, I picked it up and put it in my bedroom next to the bed. I can’t get into it; I don’t know the password but my fingerprints will be on the keyboard where I tried.”
“He brought it here?” The other cop looked at Jack in confusion. “He said it you already had it.”
I shook my head with confidence. “No. It arrived with him. I’d never seen it before I found him looking at it.”
“Ula!” The shock on Jack’s face gave me the ultimate in satisfaction and I didn’t regret a single word of it. I justified my declaration by sticking to the absolute truth. I hadn’t seen the laptop before Jack unpacked it from Pete’s boxes. I didn’t put it in there and didn’t recall seeing Pete use a device like that. I only had Jack’s word it was ever in the box.
“My husband owned a white Apple Mac,” I said, keeping my attention on the two uniformed officers and dismissing my plain clothed cousin. “It doesn’t hold its charge anymore so I have to use it when it’s plugged in. Would you like to look at it?”
The police officer on my left nodded and I strolled through to my bedroom and drew it out from its hiding place in the wardrobe. I never bothered stashing it in the safe. If a burglar helped himself to it, more fool him. He could keep the knackered one and I’d claim a new one on my insurance. Nobody stole it the last two times the place was tossed, so I figured it to be worthless, old technology. I pulled it off the shelf and stuffed my jacket back into the empty space, handing it out behind me to the police officer who’d followed me in. “I’ll get you the charger,” I offered. “You’ll need it.” I yanked the white plug from a socket on the wall. “This was Pete’s personal computer. I didn’t wipe any of his stuff after he died; I just started new folders under my name on the desktop. It’s got my lesson plans on it so please don’t wipe anything.” I smiled and studied the young man’s expression of embarrassment. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“No, sorry. Just come down to the station with us and I’m sure the detective will explain everything.”
“Ok.” I grabbed a cardigan off a hanger in the wardrobe. “I’ve got work in the morning so can we get this over with?”
The buzzer for the front door rang four times while I locked up my home and ignored Jack as he fought for my attention. We left as a tight-knit group of four, taking the stairs instead of the lift and reaching the ground floor together. “Can I have my keys?” I paused on the last step, bailing Jack behind me and eyeballing him as he poked around in his pocket. He handed them over and one of the uniformed cops leaned forward and took them from my open palm. I kept my eyes fixed on Jack, knowing he saw the turbulent rage bubbling inside. “Don’t enter my home again without permission.”
“He entered without permission?” The officer nearest to me shot Jack a look and I nodded.
“Yes, he did. I threw him out
yesterday. I hope you had a warrant. I’m sure you should’ve shown it to me before searching my flat.”
The other policeman swallowed and his cheeks flushed pink. “We didn’t...”
“Yeah, you did. Would you like me to list the things you moved in the process?” I kept my voice level and the men exchanged a thin thread of concern.
Jack pressed the button for the front doors just as my downstairs neighbour emerged from his apartment. Ahmed stared in disbelief to see me escorted off the premises by two uniformed officers. I waved to him and he gaped in response, too surprised to raise his hand. I stood on Jack’s foot as he held the door open, avoiding eye contact with him and leaning as hard as I could on his shoe with my bare foot. His wince gave me a flicker of satisfaction.
Outside in the cool night air my heart sank as I came face to face with Teina Fox standing on the doorstep with his finger on the buzzer. The cops acknowledged him with an upwards tilt of their heads and let the door bang behind them. Teina looked at me and cocked his head, mouthing, “Are you ok?” as I passed.
I nodded and gave him a wan smile, feeling anything but ok. I felt humiliated, betrayed and cheated; but there was nothing new in that. I urged him with my eyes not to acknowledge me and Jack looked at him with curiosity as Teina’s eyes watched me leave.
He slipped past Jack as though visiting someone and my wily cousin nudged my arm. “Does he live here?” he asked, curiosity budding in his eyes. “Or is he visiting someone?”
I ignored him, letting the older police officer seat me in the back of the police car, guiding me under the door arch with his hand on my head. The car sped along the road and I wrinkled my nose at the faint scent of vomit masked with disinfectant. Jack sat in the back seat next to me and he leaned across and tried to whisper, one eye on the cops in the front. “Just tell them the truth,” he hissed, barely making a sound over the purr of the engine.
“What?” I replied, raising my voice so the men could hear. “Don’t tell the truth? It’s a bit late for lying, Jack. I don’t know how involved you are in all this but I won’t be covering for you.”
I heard the driver swear and the car veered towards the curb. The passenger got out and moved around the vehicle, opening Jack’s door and yanking him out by his sleeve. “Get in the front!” he snapped and Jack glared at me before turning his body and leaving the vehicle. I heard raised voices and covered my smirk with a shaking hand.
I entered the police station still barefoot and followed the officers through a charge room to a line of doors marked as interview rooms. A group of teenage male drunks lolled around the charge area, giving the sergeant hell and wolf whistling as I trod the corridor to their left. I ignored their vulgar heckling and hoped I didn’t spend the night listening to their even bawdier singing.
Jack tried to follow us into the room but one of the cops put his arm out to bar his way. “Not you,” he said, sounding conflicted. He jabbed a finger in Jack’s face. “Go get the detective and you’d better start talking pretty fast to get out of this one.”
I turned my face to the wall to disguise a sadistic grin of revenge, wondering if the camera bulge in the ceiling had already taped my entrance. I thought about my sweet vicar and the mental list of confessions grew by one more item. I wrote it all down on a clean white sheet in my head, adopting a calligraphy script I couldn’t do in reality. To my fornication and acceptance of stolen money, I added lying by misdirection.
“Take a seat, miss.” The older man smiled and pulled out a chair. “Can I get you a tea or coffee?”
I thought for a minute and opted for water, pulling out of a request for gin at the last second. A glib sense of humour would get me so far, but it might not be in a direction I liked.
“Am I allowed a phone call?” I pleaded with my eyes and the younger cop furrowed his brow.
“You’re not under arrest, miss.”
I waved my arm to encompass the small, grey painted room. “This doesn’t feel very voluntary. I get home to find you in my lounge and you bring me here. I thought my rights included a phone call.”
The door opened with a thwack and a tall male entered, dressed in matching jacket and trousers. He blended with the walls to an alarming degree and I stared at him with more interest than fear, wondering if Auckland police colour matched all their detectives with their workplaces. “Thanks for coming in, Mrs Saint,” he said, slumping into the chair opposite and placing a file stacked with notes on the table in front of him.
“I’ve asked for my phone call,” I said, chewing on my bottom lip and feeling the skin crack where I’d done it so much. “How long do I have to wait for that?”
The detective looked surprised. “Oh.” He sat back in his seat and hung his arms down either side of him. The older police officer left the room and the younger one seated himself opposite, his shirt sleeve brushing the detective’s jacket every few seconds as he fidgeted. “You’re not under arrest,” the detective stated. “You can make a call if you like, but I can’t see the point. You were asked here to answer a few questions. Isn’t that correct, officer?”
The young cop nodded and I shook my head. “That’s not true. I got home to find two officers already in my apartment. They asked me about a laptop which my cousin had in my home the day before. I fell out with Jack on Saturday and didn’t see him again before today. The officers asked me to come to the station and I didn’t realise I had a choice to decline.” I stuck my bare foot out of the side of the table. “I didn’t get a chance to put shoes on.”
The detective let out a snort like an angry bull and directed his glare at the young man to his right. “Outside!” he snapped and rose to his feet. He shuffled the papers back into the wallet and left the room, the young officer slithering behind him like a naughty child. The door closed, but I heard the shouting through the walls. I hoped he’d included my treacherous cousin in his tirade.
The detective re-entered the room alone and without his papers. He sat opposite me and stuck his hand out. “Detective Inspector Odering,” he said, smiling with his eyes.
I shook his hand, my fingers cold and clammy with suppressing the raging fear in my breast. “Please may I have my phone call now?”
“Let’s start again,” Odering said, holding his hands up, palm outwards. “You’re entitled to have a whānau representative.” He used the Māori word for family and it made me think of my mother. I’d love my mother to sit next to me, but suspected he wouldn’t be able to arrange that. He shrugged. “I apologise for the way you were brought here but assure you; I just have some questions for you.”
“Is Jack listening to this?” I asked, glancing at the camera in the corner of the ceiling. “I’m not saying anything with Jack listening.”
The detective got up and left the room again. When he returned and gave me a reassuring nod, I believed him.
Three hours later and my brain felt ready to explode. I’d told him everything I knew and some things I didn’t realise were tucked in my memory. I liked him in an older man kind of way and he treated me more like a human being than his colleagues had. When my order of cold water didn’t materialise, he fetched it himself.
“Tell me about the day your uncle slapped you,” Odering said. “Why didn’t you report it?”
I shrugged. “My cousin did, but nobody came to speak to me. I wanted to forget about it.”
Odering glanced at his notes. “Officers went to your home twice, but you were out both times. They would’ve followed it up.”
“It’s over now.” I sipped my water thinking of Teina. “I’m not going back to the club so I won’t see him again.”
“You can see my problem over all this, can’t you?” Odering leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his close cropped hair, linking his fingers in a tight stretch. The rumpled shirt betrayed one of those never ending days I often had at work as it untucked itself from his trousers. “Your husband approached us with this information and we launched an enquiry with New Zeal
and Football and fraud squad members. We know the fraud’s happening, but not who’s orchestrating it. Peter Saint was prepared to tell me everything and then unfortunately, he died. Was your husband ever violent towards you?”
“No.” I thought of the one time and knew Odering saw it in my face. Pete liked rough sex and I kept my bedroom door locked after that.
“Did you never wonder if his death was suspicious?” I leaned forward in my seat and waited for Odering to take a slug of his cold coffee before answering. He pulled a face and nodded. I rewarded myself for the clever distraction.
“We checked everything. My first thought was that someone wanted to shut him up, but we found no evidence of that. It looked like he’d overdosed on valium and then his vehicle went out of control on a greasy bend in the rain and hit a tree. He shouldn’t have got behind the wheel but the suicide note he left gave us reason to assume that was the point.”
“He wasn’t wearing a seat belt,” I said, closing my eyes and reading the coroner’s report in my head. “But he always put his seat belt on. He said this stupid rhyme when he did it and drove me mad.” For the first time in a long time, I missed my husband. It wasn’t a passionate relationship for either of us but after the horror of his bungled visit to the public toilets, at least I knew everything. We rubbed along just fine and found a level of companionship outside of his sexual exploits. I let his handsome face waft across my inner vision; dirty blonde hair and blue eyes which sparkled in the sunshine. Athletic and vain, Peter Saint was a natural head turner and knew it. His loss hit me like a knife wound to the chest and I doubled over in pain as real grief bubbled out. Not the blank numbness of those first weeks or the anger when his solicitor informed me of my impoverished state, but a jaw aching grief at the loss of a close friend. I’d spent the last six months reeling from his betrayals and lost sight of who he really was. As the tears came and I used up most of the box of tissues Odering found, I realised I’d loved him despite everything. I’d loved him and he never knew. Now someone had taken his life as though he never mattered to anyone and I’d never got the chance to tell him.