by Bowes, K T
“Thanks,” Bodie said quietly, “it’s just that a Chinese illegal by the name of Huang was found in an Auckland Harbour in the early hours of this morning. Immigration were called to the Waikato Hospital by staff on Friday morning when they discovered a patient wasn’t entitled to state healthcare, embarrassingly after he was given five thousand dollars’ worth of emergency surgery on a knee injury. He left the hospital before officers arrived and disappeared. A truck driver picked up a hitchhiker in a lot of pain on State Highway 1, going northbound on Saturday morning and dropped him off Downtown. He washed up on the beach at Manukau this morning around six. We know it’s the same guy because the knee parts had serial numbers.”
The kitchen was eerily silent.
“Maybe the bailiffs wanted to repossess his implant,” Hana suggested but felt shamed out when both men looked at her in surprise. Logan smirked.
“This will come back to you.” Bodie said, looking straight at Logan. It was a challenge. Hana’s heart almost stopped. Logan leaned forward in his seat and fixed Bodie with a hard stare, his voice stilted and jerky.
“You’ve got no evidence.”
Bodie shook his head and raised his voice to make his point. “There’s always evidence! What about the car, DNA? I’ll get a warrant and seize that Toyota four wheel drive you run around in.”
Hana thought about the filth in the Honda before Logan cleaned it, but her husband was ahead of her. “Fine, check the car.”
Bodie looked victorious as though he had won the battle, then realised the game may not be played entirely as he thought. “But you said...”
“No,” Logan interjected, “I said he was dropped off. I didn’t say it was by me, or in my vehicle.” He stood up and moved around behind Hana and Bodie’s mouth opened in disbelief.
“You used my mother’s car?” His voice was almost a shriek.
Hana tilted her head back and fixed her eyes on the underside of Logan’s strong jaw as he spoke. She couldn’t look at her son. “You know what? You’ve formed an opinion of me and nothing I do will change that. What do you want Bodie? To be the cop who gets promotion fitting up a family member? Is that how you want to make a name for yourself?”
“I don’t.” Bodie stood up too, his face a mixture of pain and regret. “I don’t want to believe the worst. I want to like you Logan, I really do, it’s just that...” he let his words trail off without finishing. Logan put his hands possessively on Hana’s shoulders and stood his ground. Bodie got the message and turned to leave, but not before he’d said what he came for. “Do you promise that nothing you’re into will get me,” he prodded the air in front of Hana, “or my family, burned?”
Logan nodded. “I give you my word.”
Bodie jerked his head once in response, pulled on his trainers without lacing them up and left, running quickly down the front steps to his car. Logan locked the door behind him while Hana sat feeling shell shocked at the kitchen table. Pete told her he saw Logan loading a body into her car.
As Logan turned back from locking the door after his stepson, he glanced down at the hall table and saw a set of keys lying there. The front door key for Culver’s Cottage was attached to a key ring with SpongeBob SquarePants on it. They were Bodie’s set. Logan shook his head sadly and slipped them into the drawer underneath.
When he returned to the kitchen, he saw Hana’s ashen face. Her eyes were wide and she looked confounded. “The Asian man died!” Her voice was soft and betrayed her bewilderment. Logan nodded.
“It’s not a nice world he was messed up in, Hana. He was a Triad who’d gone to work for Laval. They can’t do that kind of thing. There’s only one way out and he would have known that.”
Hana shook her head slowly, as though trying to clear space for the information to fit into. “I knew nothing of this world. It’s never touched me before.”
Logan sat down next to her and laid his hand over hers. “It’s always been there,” he said sagely, “the Ches of this world are as well rooted as the kauri tree. People don’t see because they don’t want to.”
“Where do you fit, with them, with that old man and that...awful woman?”
Logan exhaled slowly and leaned forward so his elbow rested on the table. He fiddled with the strapping around his fingers, pulling at a loose thread. Then he looked at his wife and smiled. “We crossed paths about sixteen years ago. He ran a protection racket in the city. I was home on a visit and had some cash to spare. I floated an uncle who wanted to start up an interior-decorating firm and was there when the visitors came. He sent them away and gave them a time to come back. I got some whanau together and we sorted them out in the alley behind the store. I spent a week camped out in the back of the shop while it was being set up and we rigged the alley so we would know when they were around. Every time a new face showed up, sometimes in the middle of the night, we nailed them. I knew I had to go back to the UK, so I went to see Che. It was hard to get near him, but persistence paid off and he met with me.”
Logan went over to the sink and got busy refilling the kettle and emptying the cold tea from the pot. Hana wondered if he would stop talking but he didn’t. As the kettle hummed to itself quietly in the background, he sat back down at the table, taking her hand again. “What can I say? Che liked me. We hit it off. He agreed to leave the business alone and he has. I’ve met him socially at points in time, usually wherever he decides, but that’s about it. He’s been a wealth of knowledge and really helpful in knowing what deals to back and what to leave alone. I did him a huge favour once and he can’t repay that debt. It’s how we’ve left it.”
“Weren’t you scared?” asked Hana, “Couldn’t they have killed you?”
Logan nodded, but there lurked a depth of hopelessness in his grey eyes as he mentally trawled the darker times of his past. “You don’t understand, Hana, until I met you again, I didn’t care what happened to me. I had no reason to stay alive. Time was something to kill.”
Not for the first time, Hana felt appalled by her husband’s lack of regard for his own value. She didn’t know how to answer him, but it made her afraid - her security seemed to hang on a whim; today I live, tomorrow I don’t. But then she reminded herself, wasn’t life like that anyway? What was that scripture, about the grass withering and dying? “Did you tell Che yesterday about the Asian man you injured?” Hana asked her voice quaking. “It would be a way of getting rid of him permanently.”
Logan snorted, “No. I must admit I thought about it. Bodie probably thinks I did. But it’s the old lady who does the heavy stuff. It wasn’t always like that. Che had a major heart attack about five years ago and she stepped up. She’s lethal. I didn’t turn Huang over to her. I knew what she would do.”
Hana thought about the death-stares the woman gave her, those small black beady eyes boring into the side of her face as Hana’s stomach lurched under the pressure. She certainly wouldn’t be someone to cross. Hana turned Logan’s hand over and studied the back of it. His skin was olive and dark against Hana’s pale palm. She linked her fingers through his and turned his hand back over, aware he watched her intently. She let out a big sigh. “What was Sunday about?” she asked.
Logan rubbed his thumb gently over hers. “It was a kind of hand-over.” He bit his bottom lip as he sifted through what he wanted to say. “Che bought up some interests I had; long term investments mainly. They’ll be lucrative in the end but tie up a lot of cash in the interim. He’s willing to wait it out but I don’t want to. I let things slide recently, I lost interest. I’m cashing in my assets and he wanted them. Uncle has sold the design store so very soon, all my money will be in the bank and I’ll have no ties on the North shore or Central Business District of Auckland. I’ve got a lawyer mopping up the other bits elsewhere, which are proving a bit more difficult than I thought. I don’t want to turn them over to Che, but I might have to.”
Hana pulled a funny face. “So that was the price of the meal was it? A couple of people owed you a few bucks and f
or that, I had to suffer that awful woman?”
Logan sat back in his chair and observed her carefully. He ran his hand over his face and up through his hair. “Hana,” he said, “how do I say this nicely? Che paid four million dollars into my CircleLine business account last night at midnight. They weren’t bus fare debts, Hana. It was big corporate investments. And when some of those shareholders wake up and realise who they’ll be sat next to at their board meetings, they’ll be crapping themselves for weeks.”
Hana’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped slightly, until she managed to gather herself and close her mouth. Her lip curled in anger. “You’re a millionaire and you never told me? You didn’t think that was a secret you should have shared?”
“Would you have still married me?” Logan cocked his head like an eagle.
“I don’t know!” Hana answered, the truth shocking even her.
Logan gave her a sad smile. “Of course you wouldn’t. You’re convinced you’re not good enough for anyone and you have this massive chip on your shoulder about paying your own way. You’d have run a mile and we both know it.”
Hana swallowed and set her face in a look of stubbornness. “I just don’t want to be left destitute or owing someone else. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, sweetheart. Nothing at all. I’m sorry you had to find out like this but it changes nothing. What’s mine is yours and always was.” Logan stroked her balled up fingers. “I love how you pay for things and buy me dinner. My whanau treat me like an open wallet but you never have.” He ploughed on regardless, finding honesty surprisingly cathartic. “I’ve spent the last few weeks selling off the remainder of the stocks and stuff in the UK and moving money around. I did most of it over there before I came back to New Zealand, apart from some bits I’d grown attached to. It’s not a great time to be cashing in what’s left, but I’m sick of watching it all going up and down. I’ve done ok actually.” He sounded slightly smug, like he wanted her approval, but Hana still tried to process the information tumbling from her husband’s mouth.
“You own your parents’ hotel don’t you?” she asked him frankly. “Outright or just shares?”
“Outright,” he admitted. “About three quarters of the mountain. Reuben owns the other part. I didn’t inherit it. I worked hard and bought it, piece by bloody piece. Except the bit my grandmother left me and one section near the road.” Logan pulled Hana to her feet and wrapped the robe more snugly round her. He held her tight and looked into her eyes. “How about you go to bed and I make you a drink?”
Hana nodded and pulled his hand towards her, examining the aging scabs over the skinned knuckles. “Why did you get so angry before when I knew you ran things at the hotel and challenged you?”
Logan bit his bottom lip. “I was scared. I thought if you knew how big it all was, you’d feel like you couldn’t stay with me. I couldn’t risk that.”
“Did you hurt your knuckles fighting with the Chinese man?” Hana asked, her voice soft.
Logan pulled a face and shrugged. “No. The other guy was more of a challenge than him. But you can’t go through life thinking things like that, Hana, attaching meaning to every little thing. You’ll go mad.” He cupped her chin in his hand and looked hard at her, “I grew up in a family where emotions got the better of them and ruined most of what they built...well,” he paused, “when they weren’t touching what wasn’t theirs. I learned not to feel, I guess. It makes life a whole lot easier.”
Hana grappled to understand. She tried hard but each foray into the rabbit hole left her more confused than the last. She let Logan kiss her softly and walked towards the cool hallway, but something he said made her turn back to listen. His voice was not much above a whisper, “You know what? A year ago, I would have told them where Huang was. Hell, I would have given them a ride there. But I got to thinking about what your mate, Pastor Allen said to me once. He looked at me in all my confusion and said, ‘God looks at the heart of a man, not at what’s on the outside.’ It rocked my world, Hana. Why would God give a shit about someone like me?” He turned to flick the switch on the kettle and Hana heard him mutter, half to himself, “The outside’s the best fake I ever pulled off, but I know I’m not real good to look at on the inside.”
Du Rose Legacy
Chapter 19
The next few weeks passed without incident. It was a long term and the September holidays loomed in the distance, the promise of spring on its tail. Logan made a couple of trips back up to the city on business after work. Hana didn’t accompany him, aware he was winding up his concerns and didn’t need her. Nor did she fancy a repeat of her meeting with Mrs Che as Logan met with various business owners to negotiate the sale of his remaining New Zealand-wide stock.
Hana’s pregnancy progressed well, although her age meant she struggled more than previously. The five-month marker came and went, including another scan showing a small child vigorously sucking its thumb amidst a rolling sea of black and grey clouds. Hana was astounded by how much technology had moved on in over two decades, marvelling at the 3D image of her baby on the screen. It felt so real, as though she could stroke its little face and pick it up for a cuddle. Logan was more excited than Hana had ever seen him and bought every media available in which to see his first born child. “That was incredible!” he said in the hospital car park. His eyes were alight and he couldn’t keep still, dragging Hana’s body into his. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered into her hair, his voice wobbling with emotion. “Thank you for this.”
Logan’s gratitude made her want to weep, the feelings of inadequacy rising to the fore. She produced two perfect children for Vik and he showed nothing like the levels of excitement Logan did. “I don’t deserve you,” Hana sobbed into Logan’s arms in the middle of the car park. Afterwards she blamed the pregnancy hormones.
Hana began to feel increasingly safe. The two men who had harassed and terrified her were gone. The Asian was dead but a frank discussion with Logan unearthed the second man. “He’s still up at the farm,” her husband said, his eyes narrowing at Hana in challenge. “His injuries have healed and he’s earning his keep doing small jobs for Jack. Dad’s keeping a very tight rein on him.”
“So let me get this right. You gave sanctuary to a man that stalked and injured me and you’ve kept him at the hotel?” Hana’s eyes widened in anger, flashing a deep green at her husband. “You were meant to turn him over to the cops! You said he would only be there until he was better.”
Logan shrugged but refused to be drawn into an argument. “Yeah, but then I didn’t move him on.”
“Well, I’m speechless!” Hana bit.
Logan leaned back in the kitchen chair and put his arms behind his head. “Apparently not, because you obviously have lots to say.”
Anger made Hana manipulative and canny, finding herself against the hard, immovable surface of Logan’s iron will. The man was stubborn and once he made a decision, it stayed that way until he changed it. Hana had grown sick of butting her head against it and starting practicing other negotiation techniques. She fingered the bottom of her nightshirt, lifting the chequered material as though thinking absentmindedly and revealing more thigh that she should have. Hana felt the tension in the room hike as her husband became instantly interested. He let the front legs of his chair clump to the floor and put his hands on the table. “You took me up to the hotel last weekend and didn’t warn me. What if I’d seen him?” Hana sounded hurt and saw Logan’s brows knit out of the corner of her eye.
“You were with me the whole time. He won’t touch you now. Apart from the fact he knows I’d kill him, the box is with the police and that’s all he wanted - to keep it away from Laval. Dad says he’s quite happy up there surprisingly. Likes the peace and quiet.”
“I feel betrayed,” Hana said with real feeling, knowing immediately she’d pushed it too far as she flashed the side of her knickers. Logan snorted and beckoned to her with the crook of his finger.
“Then come he
re and I’ll make it better.”
“No!” Hana made her reply sound cross. “I’m never coming near you again!”
Logan bit his lip and his long lashes brushed against his cheek as he looked down and then fixed his stunning grey eyes on Hana. She carefully mapped out her escape past him and into the hallway and he watched her brain working it all out with a veiled smirk. “I said come here, babe. I’m sorry you’re upset. Let me show you how sorry I am.”
Hana moved quickly but she didn’t make it. Logan caught her at the doorway, lifting her easily under her thighs and back. His biceps bulged through his work shirt, his tie hanging loosely on his neck. “When are you going to learn to trust me, woman?” he asked softly and the question was serious despite his sparkling eyes.
“Maybe one day,” Hana replied, half joke, half deadly serious. Logan nodded.
“I can wait.” He carried her down to the bedroom and showed how sorry he could be.
On the last Monday of term three Hana cleared up early, aching for the well-deserved rest during the two-week holiday starting in four days.
“You take the car,” Logan said that morning. “I’ll use the bike. I’m meeting the lawyer half way between Auckland and Hamilton after work. It’ll be good to open up the throttle on State Highway 1.”
“Well don’t lose your licence,” Hana said to her husband with a frown and he brushed off her concern, kissing her gently. “Or die,” Hana whispered to his retreating back, feeling a familiar knot of fear spark in her chest.
She trotted out to the car in the Chapel car park, enjoying the crisp spring sunshine on her face and feeling excited about the coming warmer weather. Hana looked at the sky, hoping the frosty mornings were almost over and feeling her body relax with the thought of summer. She fumbled with her car keys and clicked the central locking. She’d backed the Honda into its space so she could drive straight out and her headlights glinted in the sunshine as she approached the driver’s door. Edging carefully round, Hana concentrated on not banging the wing mirror of the car next to her with her protruding belly.