by Bowes, K T
Hana dozed comfortably for a while and then they went down to the kitchen to eat. On the table Hana’s phone exhausted itself with a loud cavalry charge, trying to tell her a text had come in, shortly followed by a missed call from the same number. Anka’s. The text said, ‘It will be ok. Don’t worry. A.’
Hana read the text out loud to Logan while he clanked around in the cutlery drawer and he shrugged. “Tama and Anka are grownups and they have literally made their bed. Now they have to lie in it.” Logan sounded completely unsympathetic. “I’m done with it. I don’t want either of us dragged into their mess again. Ok?” He raised his eyebrows at Hana, expecting an answer. She nodded, wanting to please him.
It was dark by the time they started clearing away and Tiger terrified them both by jumping up onto the windowsill and banging his collar against the glass. Hana shrieked and Logan nearly dropped his plate, before realising the huge glassy amber eyes belonged to the cat and the wailing noise was him mewing to come in. “Daft animal!” Logan opened the window and Tiger squeezed through the gap, almost tippling off as the frame opened outwards. He allowed Logan to help him off the windowsill. “I don’t wanna see you up on the work surfaces,” Logan warned the cat as he put him on the floor. Tiger skipped off and sat in the doorway, eyeing Logan and licking his paws.
Hana’s head was with Tama and Anka and she kept worrying about what would happen when they met up. But Logan dismissed it as no longer her problem, making it impossible for her to talk about her concerns.
Around seven o’clock that night, the gate buzzer sounded in the house and there was the steady rumble of a car climbing up the hill. Hana went to look out of the window. “It’s just the kids,” she called to Logan.
Amy’s old Civic laboured up the rise and Jas was out and running almost before the car engine ceased, earning him a severe telling off from his mother. “But I’ve got stuff for Hanny!” He complained. He had more gifts, hence his urgency, a crayon picture of a person in the hospital for Logan and a little necklace he bought, allegedly with his own money from the farmers’ market in Cambridge. It was a pretty little thing, heart shaped and delicate and Hana made Jas feel special for his thoughtfulness, folding him in hugs and kisses.
He puttered off down to the bedrooms and came back complaining, “The beds are bare.”
“Well, we had a visitor, Logan’s nephew, for a few nights and the sheets have been washed. They’re drying down in the garage.” Hana tried not to grit her teeth at the reminder of Tama.
“But I don’t like it like that!”
“Oh, Jas, stop it!” Bodie snapped, running his hand across his jaw and shifting around with an uncharacteristic unease.
Eventually, Jas and Amy volunteered to fetch the sheets and make up the beds again while Bodie talked to his mother. It was clear from the start he felt agitated about something. Bodie was particularly quiet and withdrawn and Hana wondered if she had upset him in some way, or if things weren’t going well for him in Hamilton. He, Amy and Jas seemed perfectly fine and she noticed Jas was still calling him ‘Daddy.’ Logan made an expert one-handed pot of tea while Bodie sat at the table very still.
“Are you upset Tama stayed here?” Hana asked. “We didn’t really have much choice.”
Logan turned his head and raised an eyebrow at her. Hana bit her lip and corrected herself. “Well, Logan invited him. I didn’t have a choice.”
Logan tutted behind her and Hana stuck her chin in the air in an act of defiance.
Bodie shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I’m not five, Mum. You can have other people to stay.”
“So, is it that I’m thinking of going back to work?” Hana tried to make small talk, but in the end just asked him outright what was wrong, his monosyllabic answers beginning to irritate her.
“I went to see Ethel Bowman,” Bodie said, his sentence short and punctuated by an exasperated intake of breath. “She’s a stupid woman, if ever I met one.”
Hana’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t brought her children up to be rude about people, although Ethel Bowman might be an exception to the rule if one was allowed. Logan plonked the pot down on the trivet on the table and sat down. The air was pregnant with expectation, but Bodie drew it out annoyingly, causing even more tension. In the end, Logan asked him, “Did you go officially? Like – in uniform?”
Bodie shook his head. “No way! I sort of called in on the off chance really. I said I heard she was asking about Mum and wanted to reassure her all was fine. She let me in, did her usual song and dance about caring blah blah and then I sat and had a drink with her. I mentioned Mum told me she found a fella and she went all coy. I showed an interest and asked to see a photo. She said at first she didn’t have any; apparently he doesn’t like his photo taken, surprise surprise. Anyway, in the end, when I pressed her…well actually I sort of insinuated maybe he wasn’t real…”
Hana looked shocked. “Bo! That’s horrible!”
Bodie reassured her, “I didn’t come out and say it! I told her a little story about a friend who made up a girlfriend and she got the point and was forced to cough something up. She showed me this little photo on her phone, taken on the phone camera when they were down in Rotorua. They never visit anywhere locally; it’s always a bit further afield. It’s poor quality, the phone’s a cheap one but while I was looking at it, I blue-toothed it to mine without her realising. I showed it to the guys at work. Mum, this guy’s a really nasty piece of work.” Bodie’s tone sounded serious, holding a myriad of hidden warnings and Hana blanched.
“Is he the Korean guy?” Logan asked, “Can we see the photo?”
Bodie took out his phone slowly and fiddled around with the buttons, but he hadn’t finished speaking yet. “Look, the guys at work have stuff on this man, but not enough. He seduces and rips off the vulnerable sorts of women, of which Ethel Bowman is one. One lady up north lost everything, her home, her savings, he just scams the lot off them. He produces dud papers from his company which needs a small loan of a couple of thousand. He goes to great lengths to make it look like he’s drawing up legal papers, but they aren’t and once the women are committed and he owes them a little bit, they seem to lend him more and more until there’s nothing left. Then he leaves them. He’s acquired a lot of property that way but with the last fraud, his methods changed a bit.”
Bodie stopped and turned his phone around. Hana and Logan both peered at the picture on the screen. It was of a man aged around sixty with short white hair. The photo was taken side-on as he concentrated on something in the distance. He peered over the fence down at the site of the Pink Terraces, buried in Rotorua during one of the earth’s many volcanic disruptions in that region in the past. He was well dressed, even the tiny photo showed that and to all intents and purposes, he looked like a smart, grandfatherly sort of man.
Hana held the phone for a while peering at the photo, but she didn’t know him. Logan didn’t either. Somehow it all got more complicated with each stone they uncovered. “What happened to the last woman?” asked Logan suddenly and Bodie looked up, biting his lower lip.
“She disappeared. And this guy, this Laval, seemed to be the proud owner of everything. That was when the cops got involved. Her family called them in. They think she was murdered. I dived for her a few months ago. I didn’t make the link until the other day. We searched the lakes and rivers in Northland, but found nothing. Then the cops in Whangarei got a tip off and a group of us travelled down to search the Waikato River.”
“Was that when you stayed with me?” Hana asked, pushing Bodie’s phone back towards him. “With the detective and the other divers?”
Bodie nodded and Hana reached for the teapot, but the hand that poured her second cup was not steady. “Is Mrs Bowman in danger?” she asked and her voice was almost a whisper.
“Hell, yes!” exclaimed Bodie and Hana winced at his casual use of the term. “I’ve passed all this onto the cops working on it but that’s not what I’m really bothered about, Mum. I asked h
er what the connection was with you and him and why he sent his regards and was so interested in you. He told her he knew you, but clearly he doesn’t. So what’s the link? For what it’s worth, I think the other guys work for him. I know we thought Laval must be the Asian guy because he seemed in charge, but he isn’t. That’s just a paid thug but a bit more savvy than the other one they’re looking for. I don’t get it!” Bodie was visibly angered by his inability to sort out what was going on. He possessed a good mind, a quick and logical brain, but this was evading him and he didn’t like it.
“The thing is,” began Hana, trying not to look at Logan, “I really need to go back to work. I said I’d think about going back on Monday…”
Bodie stood up, even before she finished the sentence, instantly appealing to Logan for help. “Absolutely not! Logan, tell her. She can’t!”
“But I just told you I wanted to. You weren’t listening were you?”
Bodie’s eyes flashed dangerously, but Logan remained sitting down, almost passive. Hana was grateful for that. It was evidently a flashpoint between the men. Bodie protected and shepherded her since Vik’s death but having handed the reins over to Logan, found it hard to actually let go. How Logan handled this, would determine how they managed from here on in. Logan looked at Hana for what seemed like ages and the air crackled and droned with the suspense of it. His dark eyebrows knitted in concentration and his grey eyes sparkled. “I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t want you to go back. Not until this is sorted out.”
Hana felt instantly on the defensive like a child being told ‘no’ by its parents, even though Logan hadn’t changed his stance since their discussion a few hours ago. She pouted and stuck out her bottom lip, not liking being told what to do. Bodie visibly relaxed, seeming to think it was a done deal, but something in Hana quietly rebelled. Had they asked her what she wanted and listened to her reasons? No, they hadn’t and it piqued her. Logan reached for her hand, ignoring the fact she resisted his touch and the roughness of his cast.
Quietly and without fuss but with a grip of steel, Logan pulled her hand onto his lap under the table. He held it there and Hana suspected she was busted. It was like the man could read her damn mind. Bodie chatted on about work, keeping the conversation lighter but his revelations dampened the visit.
Amy reappeared without Jas who was doing something ‘secret’ down in the bedroom. She picked up quickly on the atmosphere and slotted her arm easily around Bodie’s waist as he leaned up against the sink, seeming to have an instant calming effect on him. She smiled across at Hana who responded with genuine relief.
Logan had run his good hand through his hair one time too many and now resembled an excited rooster, which made Hana smirk. She wanted to reach over and smooth it down but couldn’t because he still held her hand and wouldn’t let go, not even when she wriggled. The edges of the cast looked frayed and damaged in the shadows under the table. “Are the cops interested now?” Logan asked abruptly and the force of the question betrayed the thought processes behind it.
“We were always interested!” replied Bodie defensively and Hana felt Logan’s body stiffen. She watched him out of the corner of her eye and tried to release her hand again, without success. It was something she loved about him; he never wasted words. Bodie continued, “We didn’t know what was going on. It looked like you upset someone or got hold of something they wanted. Now it links back to this guy, it’s more…well, urgent I guess.”
Logan looked away, biting his lip and Hana appreciated the self-control he exercised. His fingers felt tighter over hers. Maybe in his childhood world he would ‘round up the boys’ and deal with it with guns and fists. His grip on her hand relaxed and Logan’s grey eyes narrowed in an unshared laugh as he glanced at Hana sideways. She glared at him and tossed her head. “What’s going to happen next then?” she asked and Bodie shrugged,
“Not sure. I think one of the guys I talked to will want to speak to you. They need to try and gather all the evidence together and find a connection between you and him.”
“Oh goody!” said Logan with obvious sarcasm, making Bodie’s eyebrows rise. It was the only comment Logan allowed himself in retort, summing up his frustration at the complete lack of police interest.
“Look, I know what you’re thinking!” Bodie’s brown eyed gaze fixed on Hana’s husband. “Your people don’t have a great history with the po-po. But it’s really not like that anymore.”
“No?” Logan leaned forward in his seat and his eyes widened as though he wanted to intimidate his stepson. “My poppa was flogged in the street by the local constable for being in possession of an apple. I ride a flash car up the highway and I’ll be stopped at least twice…dirty Māori, bet he nicked that…” Logan sat back in his chair so hard, it ended up on its back legs for a fraction of a second. He drew his top lip back in a sneer. “The minute your ma got involved with me, her case went to the bottom of the pile, so don’t play games. What’s up, Bodie? You too embarrassed to admit it’s gone down as some little multiracial domestic?”
“It’s really not like that! I’m a bloody brown cop, man! I would know.” Bodie’s voice contained an edge of pleading it and Amy nodded her head in agreement with him, but slowly as though she wasn’t completely sure. Hana squeezed Logan’s fingers with hers, begging him with her eyes not to walk willingly down this damaging track. He looked at her and then humphed and shook his head. When he let go of her hand it almost broke her heart as though he severed the union between their races. In protest, she leaned across his legs and seized his hand, gripping it in both of hers and glaring at him. Logan’s eyes softened and ignoring the company, he leaned across and kissed Hana softly on the lips by way of apology.
“What about Mrs Bowman,” Amy asked and, almost as an afterthought, “did you tell her this chap was a crook?”
“No,” replied Bodie, “because I didn’t know at the time. But she does need to know obviously. I don’t know how they’ll do that without scaring him away. They kind of need to use the fact he visits her to trap him.”
“Poor Mrs Bowman,” breathed Hana, with real feeling for someone as lonely as she was a few months before. “Will it be you who tells her?”
“Don’t think so.” Bodie’s answer was quick and held regret. “It’ll be one of the investigators. Mum, I’m a humble traffic cop, who happened to stumble over this. I have no influence.”
Hana nodded, hearing the frustrated detective in her son’s voice. Amy indicated to Bodie they needed to get Jas home to bed. It was quite late. Bodie went down to the bedrooms to find him and returned carrying him. He fell asleep on Hana’s bed surrounded by small dried flowers on her and Logan’s pillows, waiting patiently for them to come down and see him. Hana felt guilty, especially when he began to cry and wriggle in Bodie’s arms. She took his hand and went down to admire the flowers. “Thanks Jas,” she said tiredly. “They are very touching and sweet. You really are a lovely little boy.”
But right then he was a tired and grumpy boy who didn’t want to go out into the cold, dark night. He dragged his feet and Bodie got cross with him. “Come on mate, Hana and Logan are tired and so are we!”
Amy was trying to put his trendy blue boots onto his feet when Jas stumbled and his foot got caught through the handle of Hana’s bag. He fell and the open bag tipped some of its contents onto the floor.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Hana, quickly bending down to stuff things back in. Her fingers touched the little metal box she found in her garage at Achilles Rise and on impulse, she handed it to Jas. “Here you go. I think this was Daddy’s once. You can play with it, stick your alphabet letters to it perhaps?”
Jas stopped grumbling and his hand clasped the box. It was just the right size and he smiled down at it; a tired, squinty-eyed little smile. Bodie peered over her shoulder. “Wasn’t mine,” he said, shaking his head and shrugging. “Come on now, let’s get you home.”
Hana and Logan stood on the porch to wave them off and then w
ent into the living room to warm up in front of the dying fire.
“We need a wood burner in the kitchen,” Logan moaned, “that’s where we always sit with visitors. It would be nice.”
“What about an Agar?” Hana suggested, “Then we could cook on it as well.”
“No gas,” indicated Logan waving his arm expansively to take in the whole of the Hakarimata Ranges and Hana realised he was right. “I’m scared,” she told her husband and he cuddled her in closer.
“I know,” he whispered into her hair. “But it’ll be ok.”
“How? This man sounds really nasty and he might have killed someone. I’m no match for them.”
“No, you’re not,” Logan said with sincerity. “But we are.”
Hana Du Rose
Chapter 16
Hana was awake at six on Sunday morning. She promised herself a lie-in but it seemed it was not to be. She lay in the early morning darkness listening to the gentle breathing of her husband next to her and feeling the mattress dip and shake as he shifted in the big bed. The light outside was an austere grey, filtering through the gaps in the bedroom curtains like cold fingers. Finally she admitted defeat and got up.
Hana sat hugging tea in her strawberry china mug and stared at the empty space that was once a fireplace. It seemed like a wasted empty space and she focussed her eyes on the painted brick until they blurred.
Rinsing her cup in the sink and looking out into the bush, Hana saw by the sheen on the long grass, had it rained in the night. In the city, rain exasperated her but as a country dweller on tank water, Hana had a different perspective. Water was expensive to be trucked in, especially up her driveway and the fact God topped it up in the night for her was cause for celebration instead of despair. Hana felt stir-crazy, but it was too early to get the sewing machine out and finish the hall curtains. “Oh, Lord. I can’t live like this!” she exclaimed and pressed her fists to her forehead. “I’m going mad, I’ll be a basket case before the end of the year.” Tiger yawned and watched Hana from the windowsill. “Bored. You’re right. That’s what I am. I’m bored.” She lifted the furry body from the tempting ledge. “I don’t want you up there. Do you think I should get a hobby?”