My Brother’s Keeper

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My Brother’s Keeper Page 3

by Malane, Donna


  Wolf sat bolt upright on his sofa, ears up in full alert. If I had ears like his I’d have done the same. I didn’t like the sound of Jason clonking through my house with such proprietorial heels either. Our house, I mean. Sean’s and my marital home. Wolf let out a low rumble of disapproval, which I suspect was just for my benefit. He’s nice like that.

  I picked up the phone. ‘Karen? It’s Diane Rowe.’ I could hear her shallow breathing as she waited for me to continue. ‘Justin and Sunny are living in Auckland.’

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ she said. Nothing against Auckland, but I assumed she meant it was wonderful I’d found them.

  ‘I’m not sure how I’ll make the first contact, but I’d like to spend a couple of days up there sorting out how to go about things.’

  ‘Yes, good. When?’

  Jason was talking loudly on his mobile in the other room. I caught the phrase ‘warm and welcoming’. I was pretty sure it wasn’t me he was talking about.

  ‘I can fly up first thing tomorrow,’ I said. ‘And all going well be back by Friday with a full report.’

  ‘You can stay at my mother’s place if you like,’ she said. ‘In Ponsonby. It’s empty.’ She was breathing fast. ‘She’s not there,’ she added. ‘I mean, Mum died a few months ago and I haven’t got around to putting it on the market yet. I’m going to sell up and go live in a Christian commune in LA but I won’t go until I know Sunny is alright. It’s fully furnished and everything’s still switched on.’

  She fell silent as if embarrassed by her sudden chattiness. It was the most Karen had said in one burst. I realised she had no idea how close her mother’s house was to where her daughter now lived.

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘That sounds good.’

  ‘The spare key is under the mat at the front door. Oh, and I’ll put a cheque in the post to cover flight costs and all. I don’t have internet banking, I’m sorry. There’s a lot I haven’t got my head around yet …’

  I let the sentence peter out. No doubt there were a number of things other than internet banking she’d have to get her head around. High on the list would be how to live her life knowing she’d killed her five-year-old son and done her best to murder her seven-year-old daughter. Maybe living in that Christian commune would help.

  Her offer of more money reminded me I needed to deposit her down payment cheque or risk getting an embarrassing call from the bank. ‘We can sort out the money when I send you my report,’ I said bravely. The silence stretched on. She wasn’t an easy person to talk to by phone. Jason, on the other hand, was laughing loudly with someone as he opened and slammed wardrobe doors. Presumably, he was making sure they worked. Or looking for skeletons.

  I forced myself back to my phone call. ‘If Sunny doesn’t want you to know anything about her, I won’t tell you. That’s the deal.’ It felt cruel to remind her. The silence went on forever.

  ‘Yes. I understand,’ she said, finally. As I lowered the handset to the cradle I heard her add, ‘God bless.’ A little nervously, I thought. She must have heard what I did to the last person who tried to bless me. It was at Niki’s funeral. Apparently, Father Fahey’s index finger still bears the scar.

  Chapter 4

  TUESDAY 20 NOVEMBER 2012

  I’ve never understood the ‘fine dining followed by great sex’ thing. Who wants great sex on a full stomach? Luckily Robbie agrees with me on this. So we had great — actually, we had excellent — sex and then we dug into our instant pasta meals with almost as much appetite as we’d had for each other. When the sex is excellent even microwave spaghetti bolognese forked straight out of the plastic container tastes mighty fine. As a bonus I got to watch Robbie eat naked. He rested his pasta on the pillow in his lap and scooped forkfuls into his mouth between grins. Robbie had the most spectacular grin of anyone I’d ever seen. It hitched up effortlessly on each side like the house curtain at an old-fashioned movie theatre, hijacking his entire face. And it doesn’t take much to make that grin appear either. As a habitual frowner, I liked that about him. There was heaps I liked about this man and that grin was right up there in the top three.

  Don’t ask.

  I filled him in on my meeting with Karen and my imminent trip to Auckland. He said he was happy to look after Wolf while I away. As an ex-police dog handler Robbie would have been an ideal dog-sitter anyway, but even without their shared occupational background my dog and my boyfriend had developed a relationship of some depth and complexity. A few months earlier I had been kidnapped by a nutcase who thought I should pay for what he perceived my sister had done to him. I was missing for days, during which time everyone thought I was dead. I know I did. By the time I was found, alive though not entirely undamaged, Robbie and Wolf had seriously bonded. I suspect they had spent several days comforting each other; which was fine with me.

  That Robbie had also bonded with my ex-husband, Sean, during this time — not so fine. As far as I could tell, Sean and Robbie had just three things in common: they were both cops, they both loved Wolf and — well, me. They had me in common. Now I lived in fear of them becoming gym buddies, which just goes to show the level of my paranoia since neither of them belonged to a gym. Not as far as I knew, anyway.

  ‘I’ve got a rostered day off tomorrow so I can take you to the airport and then I’ll just keep him with me,’ Robbie said. ‘And he can come to the station with me on Thursday, Friday. He’ll enjoy being back in a cop shop. The boys’ll like it too,’ he added, leaning sideways to put the empty spaghetti container on the floor. ‘You know, once a police dog and all that.’

  I watched the way the muscles in Robbie’s stomach bunched as he stretched over and then relaxed as he settled back on the bed. He caught me eyeing him and grinned in response. Cocky. Wolf waited obediently for a sign that he could lick the spaghetti container clean. Robbie deliberately kept him waiting. It’s part of the training. It occurred to me he might be using the same technique with me.

  ‘Sean came round this morning—’

  Robbie interrupted. ‘How’s he going with the Conway case? He’s been working long hours on that with not much result.’

  I didn’t want to discuss Sean’s latest case with Robbie. Anyway, Sean didn’t share that stuff with me any more. Robbie finally made a small hand gesture to Wolf who launched himself at the container. I was determined to show more restraint.

  ‘He wants me to sell the house,’ I said.

  Robbie dumped the pillow on the floor. ‘I guess that’s fair enough. He must need the money with the little kid and all.’ Without waiting for a response, he padded through to the bathroom. Instead of admiring his naked butt, which I would normally do, I pulled a face at his back. Childish, I know, but I’d have preferred him to say Sean’s request was unreasonable. I’d have liked him to commiserate with me, not understand Sean. I wanted him to take my side so that I could be the gracious and generous one to say that Sean wanting me to sell the house was fair enough. Grumpily, I finished off my spaghetti while Robbie peed. He came back into the room as naked as he had left it.

  ‘So. You’ll be buying a new place, eh? Any chance you’ll be moving over the hill to the ’Mata?’ It was a joke. Wainuiomata, where Robbie worked in the local cop station, didn’t have a lot going for it apart from its proximity to a regional park and its low-priced housing. The high local crime rate was probably a plus for him, professionally.

  ‘Yeah, well it might come to that, depending on how much we get for this.’

  He climbed back onto the bed and placed my empty spaghetti container on the floor for me. ‘We’d make such good neighbours,’ he said, sliding his body alongside mine. ‘I could drop by for a cup of sugar.’ He grinned that ridiculously hitched grin at me.

  While Wolf chased the plastic containers around the room, licking every corner of them, we did something similar. Robbie tasted of spaghetti bolognese. I guess I did too. Maybe there’s something to be said for fine dining followed by great sex after all.

  Chapter 5

/>   WEDNESDAY 21 NOVEMBER 2012

  We were nearly at the airport when Robbie slapped the steering wheel. ‘Oh, shit. Sorry. I forgot to tell you. Sean rang.’

  ‘When?’ I asked. Which wasn’t actually the question I was thinking.

  ‘When you were in the shower,’ he said. ‘This morning.’

  ‘You answered my phone?’ I could hear the accusatory tone. I’m sure Robbie did, too, but he just casually threw that grin at me.

  ‘No. I left it for the voicemail to kick in.’ He pulled the police car into a temporary park outside the terminal. People stared, probably assuming I had been picked up for an offence. The murderous look on my face didn’t help. If being really pissed off was an offence — fine. Hang me.

  ‘When Sean didn’t get a pick-up from you, he phoned me.’ Robbie studied my face. ‘On my mobile,’ he added, going for the information overkill. ‘He said to remind you that a friend of yours — Abi?’ He waited for confirmation but I just kept staring out the window, controlling my sudden urge to hit him. ‘Sean said she used to be a real-estate agent and he thought you might want to contact her and see if she could recommend someone to sell your place.’

  I nodded and then busied myself organising carry-on and handbag, making a big fuss about looking for my ticket, saying goodbye to Wolf, keeping my head averted. The last thing I wanted was a fight but Sean and Robbie being mates was really doing my head in.

  He put his hand on my arm. ‘Hey, Di. Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah, fine,’ I lied. ‘Thanks for the lift. And Wolf. Thanks.’ I opened the car door.

  ‘Move in with me,’ he said. I was gobsmacked but he repeated the offer as if I’d spoken. ‘When you come back from Auckland. Move in with me.’ He nodded in the direction of Wolf. ‘You can bring your funny-looking kid too, if you like.’ Wolf had his head out the window, tongue lolling, one ear up, one down. ‘And then, when you’ve sold your house, we could buy a place together.’ I suspect my mouth was hanging open. ‘In the city,’ he added, perhaps misinterpreting my look of dismay. I stuttered and stammered a non-reply, something stupid about needing a coffee before my flight. ‘Just tell me you’ll think about it,’ he said.

  ‘Okay. I’ll think about it,’ I said. I kissed that lovely mouth of his and walked towards the terminal. When I glanced back, he was whistling as he climbed back into the car. Wolf was leaning forward, trying to sneak a surreptitious neck lick. Neither of them was looking in my direction. They appeared blissfully happy. In the glass entrance doors I caught sight of my reflection. I looked pretty much like I always do. Then the doors slid open, splitting me in two.

  Chapter 6

  WEDNESDAY 21 NOVEMBER 2012

  A long white plane moving silently across an expansive blue sky; strutting mynahs and jacaranda blooms; the sweet cloying smell of jasmine, the rotting stink of mangrove swamps; Rangitoto. All triggers. All invitations to the ghosts of my past to haunt me. I lived in Auckland when I was kid. We did, I mean. Mum, Dad, Niki and me. I remembered Mum here, shrugging the sundress straps off her shoulders. Bronzed legs. Shading her eyes from the late afternoon sun. Smiling. I don’t know if they’re real memories but I’ll take them, they’re all I’ve got of her. Memories of Niki surfaced, too. Us playing in the back yard, an Auckland back yard — there’s still nothing to compare; Niki running ahead of me on the way to the corner dairy to buy ice creams, traversing tree roots that had erupted through the pavement; Niki looking back over her shoulder, laughing, squealing. Her smooth brown legs. She was a gorgeous two-year-old, all joy and madness. Fearless. Gone.

  I realised with a jolt that my father’s ghost was silent.

  The Ponsonby house owned by Karen’s mother was one of a big block of townhouses just behind Three Lamps, at the junction between Ponsonby and Herne Bay. The units were spread across three streets to form a triangle, with the interior of the triangle being the gated commons area and driveway access to the units’ garages. I found the key under the front door welcome mat, as Karen said I would. A burglar would get a real hoot out of that little irony.

  Later I’d ring Justin, introduce myself and ask if we could meet, but first I planned to walk by the house, get a feel for the neighbourhood. I wanted to try to sense how the family lived. In preparation, I’d dressed in trackies and gym shoes. Herne Bay is teeming with young trophy mums, keeping themselves in shape. Close inspection would give me away but with my hair pulled back in a ponytail and a pedometer clipped onto my waistband I’d pass a cursory look. If there was a car parked in the driveway or a sign of someone at home, like the song says, I’d just walk on by. That was the brilliant plan and, like all brilliant plans, it went totally to shit.

  The house was a lavish icing-white Victorian villa set back from the street, with a high, wide visage. Two attic rooms had been added into the spacious roof, each with its own toy balcony. I guessed these rooms would have panoramic views of Cox’s Bay on one side, the Disney-coloured Chelsea Sugar Refinery across the water, and maybe even a glimpse of the Auckland Harbour Bridge. The property was what my father used to describe, accompanied by a clownish droop of the bottom lip, as salubrious. In other words, this place was serious money.

  I crossed the road to gawk at the turquoise lap pool. Before I could wipe the envious drool from my chin and move on, a silver BMW M3 convertible drove up onto the footpath and stopped directly in front of me, cutting off my way forward. I immediately recognised both the man driving and the young girl in the passenger seat from my Google search. It was impossible to move past the car without getting in their way. Keeping my head down I feigned stretching as Sunny climbed out of the vehicle first and then her father.

  Justin beeped the car lock over his shoulder, strode past me and went through the gate without so much as a glance. Sunny, too, stepped past and for a giddy moment it seemed possible I might not have registered on either of their radars. But as I edged around the metallic butt of the Beemer, Sunny spoke.

  ‘Sorry about the parking,’ she said. ‘Dad always does that. He’s going back out again in a minute.’ She had paused to check the letter box but when I didn’t answer she shifted her focus to me. Our eyes met and she smiled. She’d seen me, registered me and would remember me. It was too late to walk on.

  ‘No problem. I’m a bit of a footpath parker myself,’ I said. She smiled and pushed the gate open. ‘Actually,’ I added, and waited for her to turn back towards me. ‘You’re Sunny Bachelor, aren’t you? Do you think I can have a word with your dad?’

  Sunny stood very still, her long limbs twitching with a fight-or-flight response. I tried to look as unstalker-like as possible. I didn’t want to frighten her more than I already had.

  ‘Who are you?’ she asked. ‘How do you know my name?’

  Either I was doing an even lousier job than usual or this fourteen-year-old was more suspicious than most. I guess you learn to be wary of the unexpected if your mother has tried to kill you. Suddenly Justin was there behind her, car keys at the ready. He picked up the tension instantly.

  ‘What?’ he said to Sunny, then without waiting for a response, turned his attention to me. ‘What do you want?’ He advanced with hunched shoulders and straining pecs and didn’t stop advancing until he was inches in front of me, fists clenched ready to plant me one. He had gone from easy, detached calm to fight-ready in point four of a second. The Beemer I was sweating against probably boasted a similar acceleration rate. I unstuck my body from his car and readied myself to fend a blow. Better a broken arm than a smashed face, I guess. Mind you, a comminuted diaphysial fracture of the radius and ulna is pretty painful. I should know.

  ‘I didn’t mean for us to meet like this. I just happened to be walking past.’ Liar, liar, pants on fire. ‘I’m Diane Rowe. Can I make a time to talk with you?’

  ‘Talk about what?’ he said, folding his arms across his chest. It looked more impressive like that. That was the point. But already his anger was dissipating. I’m five foot ten, athletic and can hold my
own in more situations than most people, but he had it all over me in size and strength and knew it. The knowledge of it calmed him, just like that. I wasn’t so sure he’d stay all that sanguine when I told him his ex-wife had employed me to check up on their daughter. Sunny stepped out from behind her father’s bulk. She eyed me closely.

  ‘You know Karen has been released from prison,’ I said, as an opening gambit. They both tensed and glanced at each other but neither responded. ‘I’ve been asked,’ I said, skirting the point, ‘to talk to Sunny. To see how she is. Check that she’s okay.’

  Justin swelled up like a baboon’s arse as he closed the small gap between us.

  ‘Who told you to check on Sunny? Tell me who told you to do that!’

  He was right in my face, spit hailing my cheek. What Justin lacked in height he made up for in bulk. I was scared but knew I had to stay exactly where I was. I needed to keep my voice calm and, ideally, I needed to not shit my pants.

  ‘Karen asked me to make contact,’ I said, trying not to flinch in anticipation of a punch. ‘I’m sorry it’s happened like this. That’s my fault, not hers. I should have phoned you first.’

 

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