At nine o’clock I took a deep breath and used the landline to ring Sunny’s house. If Justin answered, this was going to be one of the shortest phone calls in history. Luckily, it was Sunny who picked up. I hadn’t spoken to her since I’d informed her of Karen’s death, and then stayed on the phone with her until Justin came home. I had wanted to keep Sunny talking until she had someone with her who she knew and trusted; someone she could really talk to. We’d covered a lot of ground in that talk. She’d rabbited on about whatever came into her head and I’d just let her talk. Precipitated by the news of her mother’s death our conversation had been unnaturally intimate. Two days had passed since that call.
‘How are you handling things?’ I asked.
‘I’m okay,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t like my mother and I were close or anything.’
‘I know,’ I said far too quickly.
The truth was I had no idea what it was like to have your mother die hours before you’re about to meet her for the first time since she tried to kill you. I kept my tone light. ‘Hey, listen, I’m in Auckland for a couple of days and I thought maybe we could meet up.’ I could almost hear the shrug.
‘Sure. Whatever. I do reception at the gym after school. Salena thinks I should work for my miserable pocket money. Not that she ever works. Not unless you call pole dancing work. Did you know that’s what she teaches at the gym? Pole dancing! And what makes it totally tragic is she’s Polish! Which is a total joke only she doesn’t get it. Anyway, you could come to the gym tomorrow, if you want. I look after my little brother Neo there too. Come at around six.’ As if reading my thoughts she added, ‘Tuesdays are Salena’s hair days and Dad’s not likely to turn up.’
The prospect of being confronted by Justin was daunting.
The remainder of last week’s bottle of wine was still in the fridge. It was worrying how happy it made me. I thought back over the last few days. It was now Monday night. Yesterday was Sunday: open home day. Shit! That reminded me — I hunted down my phone and found this morning’s text from Jason and forwarded it to Sean. Then I turned off my phone. I didn’t want to talk with him about the likelihood of our house being sold within days. I didn’t want to talk about it or even think about it. Real grown up.
In my little black notebook I drew a timeline. Working backwards I wrote Sunday and drew a line leading back to the day before, Saturday. The day Sunny and Karen were going to meet, the day I found Karen dead. I drew a line leading back to a box and labelled it Friday. I’d spent Friday investigating Justin and Salena’s finances. That night, I’d dipped into my own meagre funds to pay for dinner with Ned. Too many wines at Prego that night but not so many that I didn’t remember the phone call from Karen. She had been happy and excited about meeting her daughter for the first time since … well, since she’d tried to murder her. I had a flash of the two-door Holden drifting down through the murky water. Falcon’s pale little moon face pressed against the back window, Sunny screaming. I forced my thoughts back to the timeline. Sometime between Karen’s call to me on Friday night and her death the following day, she had got hold of a recent photo of Sunny. Karen had dropped her letter and cheque to me at my house somewhere on this timeline, too. My pen wavered between the boxes. Friday night? Saturday morning? Karen had made a reference in the letter to not knowing what Sunny looked like. She had to have written this before she got hold of the photo. I wrote ‘Dropped letter off at my place’ and then drew a big question mark beside it. When? When did she drop it off? Was it Friday night or early Saturday morning before she was due for her flight?
I left a note on the stairs warning Ned that I was asleep in the main bedroom and put my phone under my pillow for safekeeping. Until I’d deleted the photos of the crime scene, I’d keep it with me at all times. The likely interrogation I’d have to endure with Detective Inspector Aaron Fanshaw and Detective Sergeant Brett Coleman if my phone was turned in to police with a bunch of illegally obtained crime scene photos on it, didn’t bear thinking about.
I thought I’d have nightmares about death and dying, stiffened rigor-mortised zombies coming for me with outstretched arms. Marital homes collapsing around me, cops dragging me off to prison. I don’t know what I dreamed. All memory of it had gone when I surfaced the next morning.
Chapter 17
TUESDAY 27 NOVEMBER 2012
Neo was playing on the computer in the gym’s reception area. In the fishbowl workout room opposite, three gym bunnies feverishly cycled nowhere. There was no sign of Justin or Salena. No sign of Sunny either. Neo glanced up as I approached the desk but showed no further interest in me.
‘Hi, Neo. Is your sister here?’
He yelled, ‘Sunny!’, without looking away from the computer screen.
Photos of Salena adorned the walls. In most of them her body was wrapped around a pole — not in a ‘car accident’ way and not exactly in a ‘strip club’ way either, more in an ‘old-fashioned circus performer’ way; glittery body suit, arched spine and arm thrown in the air in a theatrical ‘ta-da!’ gesture. Sunny hadn’t been joking when she’d said Salena taught pole dancing. Neo continued tapping, his fingers tripping expertly over the keyboard. Still no sign of Sunny.
‘What are you playing?’
He hit me with a look. ‘I’m not playing anything,’ he said.
I stopped myself from responding ‘whatever’. He yelled again, this time he stopped tapping the keyboard long enough to turn his head in the direction of the closed door leading to the upstairs offices.
‘Sunny! That lady’s here!’ His job done, he went back to the tapping, his attention riveted. I wandered over to the glass divider and watched the gym bunnies huff and puff for a while. Their desperation was so dispiriting that I decided even a five-year-old uncommunicative brat was preferable.
I leaned on the counter. ‘So what are you doing?’
‘Trade Me,’ he said without lifting his eyes.
I craned around to see the screen. He was on Trade Me. ‘No way!’
A proud little smile tempted his lips. ‘I make way more money than Sunny does.’
‘Seriously?’
Now he was openly smiling, enjoying my surprise. ‘I made two hundred dollars last week.’
‘Wow.’ Actually, I was impressed. ‘What do you sell?’
‘Games and stuff mostly.’ His plump little shoulders lifted and relaxed again. ‘When I get sick of my own things I sell them. I sell stuff for Sunny, too. For a commission.’
I was warming to this kid. With his attention focused on the screen I could study him at leisure. He would become a beautiful man one day, with those expressive blue eyes and ridiculously long lashes. ‘I have to use Dad’s account because of my age, but he doesn’t mind.’ It was the first time he’d spoken to me unprompted. Having launched himself into conversation, he became downright chatty. ‘I could get into all his online accounts if I wanted. He uses the same password for everything. All dads do that.’
Before I could respond, the inner door opened and Sunny swung into the room. I balked. She was wearing an oversized singlet and shorts. The transparent material adhered to her little breasts, revealing pink juvenile nipples. The singlet ended at her crotch where the words ‘eat me’ were emblazoned.
‘You like?’ she said, pirouetting to show me the back view. The cutaway shorts revealed three-quarters of her little buttocks.
‘Not so much.’ It was all I could manage.
She laughed and pulled a sweater over her head. ‘Salena will totally loathe it!’ Her face emerged, smiling brilliantly. ‘It’s Dad’s latest import.’ Thankfully, the sweater dropped over her buttocks. ‘I think it’s awesome.’
I hoped she was only wearing the gear to get a reaction from her stepmother. If she wore that outfit on the street I was pretty sure she’d get a whole different kind of reaction.
‘You okay, little bro?’ she called, leading me to the two sofas by the entrance windows.
‘Yup,’ Neo replied, clicking away at
the keyboard.
‘Don’t worry about Dad turning up,’ she leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially. ‘He won’t be here until after eight now.’
I was still recovering from the sight of her pubescent flesh but managed to produce a response. ‘Does he use the gym much?’
‘He’s mostly just into importing this stuff now,’ she said, adjusting what there was of the shorts.
We each claimed a sofa, our knees facing. Sunny looked at me, waiting. I launched right in. ‘When Karen hired me to find you, she gave me a pile of stuff. Her treasures, I think. Things she’d kept. I thought you might like to see some of them.’ I’d put together a selection of photos of Sunny and Karen, the record her mother had kept of her childhood milestones and the lock of hair. The photos of Falcon I’d left in my faux ‘Tax’ file box back at the office. Sunny looked from the envelope to my face and back again, but made no move to open it. My heart gave a lurch. I hoped this wasn’t a mistake.
‘Have they figured out what she died of yet? Sunny obviously didn’t know or suspect her mother had been murdered.
‘They’re still working on it, I think.’
‘She probably OD’d or she was high and did something stupid.’ She threw me an unconvincing sneer. ‘She was always doing stuff like that when I was a kid. It was bad when she had taken something. She’d be all hyper and that. But when she couldn’t get anything, that was far worse. Falcon and me used to try and keep out of her way when she was like that. She used to call it the yips. “I’ve got the yips,” she’d say, and I’d try and clear us both out of her way.’
It was safer not to respond. Feigning a casualness I knew to be false, Sunny slid the contents of the envelope into her lap. Head bent, she studied each item. Her long fine lashes fluttered. I had the creepy feeling I was looking at Karen again, the day I found her dead; head bent and long lashes pencilled against her cheek, the beseeching hands in her lap.
‘I wish Karen had been able to tell you how sorry she was.’
Sunny’s head snapped up. ‘Yeah?’ Her eyes were dry. ‘Go tell Falcon that. He’s buried in the same cemetery as Gran.’
I didn’t respond. I had no right to. Sunny slid the photos back into the envelope. I noted how carefully she did that.
‘Shall I take them back with me or would you like to keep them.’
‘They’re mine, aren’t they?’ she snapped.
‘Sure.’
The booming of the gym music still vibrated but something had changed. The keyboard clicking had stopped. Neo was staring at Sunny wide-eyed.
‘I’m okay, Neo,’ she called across to him, her voice softened. He said nothing but continued to stare at her. ‘Seriously. I’m okay.’ She poked her tongue out at him and laughed at his surprised response. ‘I’ll raise your commission to sixty per cent on that top if you sell it.’ Neo held her look for a long time and then reluctantly went back to his trading.
It was time to come clean. ‘Look, Sunny. I’m not here to defend Karen or put her case to you or anything like that. I hardly knew her.’ She was about to say something but stopped herself. ‘I think Karen did a dreadful thing and maybe you can never forgive her for that.’ Her eyes flashed up at me. ‘That’s none of my business,’ I added quickly, ‘and not why I’m here. The truth is, Karen hired me to check that you were okay. She thought you weren’t safe.’ Sunny had gone very still, very quiet. The keyboard clicking had stopped again. These two were uncannily tuned to each other.
‘What else did she say? About me, I mean.’ She turned her head away. ‘Did she tell you she hated me?’
‘What? No, of course not. She didn’t hate you, Sunny.’ I stopped myself from reaching a hand out to her. Her head was turned away but her profile was calm. I reminded myself Sunny had lived with these demons for seven years. Almost her entire life. ‘She didn’t think you’d want to see her again but she was really happy when you decided to.’ It was all I could think to say.
She turned back to face me, her eyes still dry. ‘What did she mean I wasn’t safe? What did she think was going to happen to me?’
‘She never said,’ I admitted. ‘It’s possible she just told me that so I’d go all out to find you. Maybe there was no reason at all for her to think something was wrong.’ I waited, giving her the opening. Nothing. Nothing at all. ‘But if she was right and there is something — if you feel you’re not safe — you can tell me. I promise I’ll help.’ Still nothing. That was as far as I was prepared to go. Suspicious as Karen might have been, I wasn’t going to ask Sunny directly if Justin was sexually abusing her. ‘If you don’t need my help, I promise I won’t bother you again.’ She stared across the room for a long time without moving or saying anything. Just when I was about to stand she spoke.
‘Friday night I wanted to hang out with my friends so I wouldn’t have to, you know, think about meeting … think about seeing Mum the next day.’ Apart from the falter over what to call her mother, Sunny’s voice was calm and steady. ‘But Salena said I wasn’t allowed to go out and I wasn’t even allowed to have anyone to stay because I had to look after Neo. She always does that when Dad’s away. When he’s here, she’s all kissy to me like she actually cares. She’s such a selfish moron.’
I waited for more, but that was it. Was this code for something? Or was the concern for her safety, coming as it did from the woman who had tried to kill her, so ludicrous Sunny refused to even acknowledge it? Sunny was looking at me now, her face still and thoughtful. I looked back, willing her to explain. She didn’t.
‘Okay,’ I said, even though it wasn’t. ‘I’ll go away.’
I gave it a moment, but she didn’t try to stop me. Didn’t say anything to make me stay. Enough. What the hell was I doing with this girl, chasing her around, insisting something was wrong. Sunny was as okay as any fourteen-year-old girl; in fact, she was more than okay, given her history. I was behaving like a stalker and worse still I’d been using her as an excuse to avoid facing my own life. Shame rose in me and I blushed. It pushed me up from the sofa.
‘Can I use your computer? I want to book a flight back to Wellington.’
Sunny retreated to the upstairs room and Neo slumped on the sofa with his iPad. Using the computer at reception I checked both airlines. Same-day flights back to Wellington were too expensive but I found a cheapish Air New Zealand flight leaving at one o’clock the next day. It would have to do. I clicked on it and scrabbled in my bag for a credit card. What was Sunny’s rant about? Was there some deeper meaning to it? Was there something I was missing? I copied the credit card details into the box and clicked confirm, then I clicked through to obtain a boarding pass. So she was home Friday night by herself — big deal. Sure, I could see why she was pissed off about that, but I didn’t understand why she would bring it up in response to my question about her safety. What was that all about? Was I carrying any dangerous goods? Only my smart-arse mouth. I clicked no and waited while the website uploaded the information. Suddenly, a thought hit me. It was so clear I hoped one of those lightbulbs wasn’t beaming above my head. Neo’s attention was on his iPad. The door to the room Sunny had retreated into was shut. I flicked across to the main computer screen. It listed two hard drives and a backup. I clicked onto the main A: Drive. Folders scrolled onto the screen. This was obviously the company drive. I clicked on the Finder icon, narrowed the search parameter to folder name and typed in ‘travel’. Nothing. I stared at the blinking icon some more and then typed ‘flights’. I blinked as a folder labelled ‘Flights’ appeared. Too easy. Before I could question if what I was doing was ethical, let alone legal, I clicked it open and typed November 2012 into the search box. And there it was: a flight to Wellington on Friday 23 November 2012 for Justin Alexander Bachelor.
‘What the hell are you doing?’
‘Shit!’ I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was Anton, all two hundred-odd pounds of him. Instinctively, I flicked out of the A: Drive before he got too close to the desk.
‘Does Justin
know you’re here?’
‘I left my jacket here the other day,’ I lied, indicating the one I was wearing. Neo stared at me, his jaw slack. His obvious fear of Anton helped improve my usually useless lying skills. ‘There was no one behind the desk so I was just calling myself a cab.’
Anton was still looking at me suspiciously as Sunny swung back into the foyer. She froze at the sight of him. I couldn’t tell if this was her usual response or if it was because his arrival was unexpected.
‘Thanks for the jacket, Sunny. I’m always leaving it.’
‘No problem,’ she said, circling around behind Anton. His body swivelled in my direction and his eyes never left my face as I made my way out from behind reception. Sunny held the entrance door open for me but avoided my eyes.
Once outside I thought over the significance of what I’d learned. As much as I loathed to have a conversation with Detective Inspector Aaron Fanshaw and loathed even more to tell him how I had unearthed the information, this was too important not to pass on. Justin had flown to Wellington on Friday night. This put him right in the middle of the frame as Karen’s killer.
Back at the townhouse, I left a long rambling message on Aaron Fanshaw’s voicemail. There was no sign of Ned; I could have done with company to take my mind off what I’d discovered. I opened the fridge. I closed the fridge. Anton would no doubt tell Justin I had been at the gym. I hoped it wouldn’t get Sunny into trouble. Neo’s fear and Sunny freezing in her tracks at the sight of Anton worried me. Failing to contain my nervous energy I put on my sweat pants and sneakers and headed out for a run.
My Brother’s Keeper Page 11