“Have you got interview clothes for tomorrow?” Hana asked Tama as he stood in the lounge and pulled his tatty jeans up.
“Er...na...yeah...na.” Tama muttered, using that dreadful Kiwi phrase which was more of a non-answer.
“Well, do you or don’t you?” Hana asked, pouting.
“Na,” he said and shook his head.
“So why didn’t you say that!” Hana grumbled.
“I did!” he replied, his head shooting up and his face full of indignation.
Hana sighed and tutted as she fitted Phoenix into a coat, ready to go out. “Well, you’ll need to look smart or they won’t employ you,” she said, seeing the dawning realisation in Tama’s eyes.
“Oh, no!” he exclaimed, staring down at the holes in the knees of his jeans. “What will I do?”
An hour later and Hana dragged the young man along the mall, yanking his arm when he stopped to look in the windows of the gadget shops. “That’s no why we’re here,” she grumbled, hauling him along.
“We won’t find anything,” Tama whined. “I’ve been in all the old-men’s-shops and there’s nothing.”
“They’re not old-men’s-shops!” Hana bit, jabbing Tama in the ribs. “They’re smart-men’s-shops.”
“Yeah, well they’ve never seen anyone my height,” he grumbled, dragging his feet and sulking.
“I never knew he was so fussy!” Hana exclaimed to the shop assistant in the only remaining shop Tama hadn’t yet rejected. “He’s worse than a woman.”
The male assistant bridled and looked offended, staring at Hana as though she’d slighted him personally. He muttered with sarcasm, “I don’t think so, madam. He isn’t complaining he ‘aches all over’!”
Hana sniggered. “Fair enough.” Hana looked into the pram to check her baby. Phoenix was awake and sitting up, reins keeping her secure. She cuddled a furry horse Tama bought her and Hana pushed it further into the pram to stop its legs dangling near the wheels. “Hold Fluffy tight,” she told her daughter. “We can’t lose him.”
Phoenix squeezed the toy around its neck and her eyes widened with possession as Hana touched it. She’d developed an unhealthy dependence on the gift, looking for it in bed and wanting it with her when she went out. It filled Hana with dismay. Tama couldn’t remember which shop he’d bought it in and memories of a crying Izzie came to mind as Hana eyed the toy warily. Poor Vik endured a three-hour round trip in the middle of the night during a snow storm to retrieve an ugly, squashed, fluffy green frog thing Izzie couldn’t bear to be without. He’d arrived home exhausted after digging the car out of heavy snow drifts twice, only to find she’d cried herself to sleep.
The shop assistant’s low whistle alerted Hana, as Tama stood in front of her wearing a smart white shirt and navy tie. Well fitted, dark trousers accentuated his trim figure and he appeared older. “Wow! You look amazing,” Hana breathed.
“Scrubs up well, doesn’t he?” the shop assistant stressed with pride, flapping at imaginary dust on Tama’s shoulder. Tama’s eyes bugged and Phoenix squealed with delight and flapped the furry horse at him.
“Does it look good?” he appealed to Hana, the coy version of the teenager seeming particularly endearing. He stuck his tongue out at the baby and she gurgled like a dirty drain.
“You look fantastic.” Hana turned to the assistant. “We’ll take them,” she said.
Tama looked uncomfortable and shook his head. “No, Ma. It’s too expensive and way out of my league. I don’t want you to spend your money on me and I sure as hell can’t afford it.”
“Logan told me to use his credit card,” Hana said. “So do as you’re told.” She sent him back to the changing room to remove the clothes, paying while he was in there. Tama returned in his tee shirt and holey jeans, swinging the shirt and trousers on the hanger with the tie trailing precariously over his shoulder.
“Too late,” Hana said, seizing the clothes and handing them to the smiling shop assistant, who folded them neatly and placed them into a decent carrier bag.
“But, Ma, that’s a lot of money.” he protested. “People like me don’t own clothes like that.”
“It’s a gift, sweetheart,” Hana said, pushing Tama’s arm. “And people like you are firemen, Tama, so they do.”
“Thanks, Ma.” Tama enfolded Hana in a hug, oblivious to the curious looks of passers-by.
“Shoes now,” Hana said, enjoying her mission and pushing the pram towards a shoe shop. She didn’t bother asking him what he wanted, realising he didn’t really know. They trawled a few shoe shops until Hana found a pair of shiny shoes which would look smart and be easy to polish. Tama reminded her of a small boy as he sat on the bench seat and let her fit his big feet into the shoes and lace them up. Her mother’s heart broke at the sight of his pleasure, knowing he’d experienced only the parenting attempts of Logan in his young life.
“You can put my shoes on every day,” he said, loving the cossetting Hana provided. He fluttered long, dark eyelashes and resembled a child no older than Jas. Then he clumped around the shop, making Hana smirk as he admired his feet in every mirror he passed. “Phoe!” Tama popped like a jack-in-the-box around the side of a shelf as Hana stood with the pram nestled against her hip, holding his smelly trainers in one hand and lifting an elegant black stiletto with the other. Phoenix squealed with glee and Hana dropped the stiletto.
“Stop being naughty,” Hana chided him and Tama and Phoenix giggled, sharing the same odd sense of humour.
Phoenix held her arms out to Tama, wanting to get out of the pram but Hana shook her head. “No, Tama, I don’t want to start that game. Babies should stay in the pram when put there unless it’s on fire. I’m getting too old to walk along pushing a pram and struggling to carry a heavy child who should be in it.” Hana rubbed at her chest and frowned at the increasing breathlessness which plagued her.
“Ok, Ma. You’re the boss.”
The little girl whined and grumbled, but Tama popped up and down alongside the pram with her horse to distract her while Hana paid for his shoes.
“I’m desperate for coffee and a sit down.” Hana said, wedging the box underneath the pram “Come on,” she persuaded Tama, “I’m tired.”
Tama ate hot chips, sharing them with the baby. She made a gummy mess whilst sitting on his knee. Phoenix became tetchy and Hana fed her for a while under a blanket until the wriggling stopped and the little girl fell asleep over her thighs. “Have you done any research for the interview tomorrow?” Hana asked, expecting Tama to produce his characteristic blank look.
“Yup,” he replied. “I found blog sites where they talk about it. I’ve memorised the historical stuff they might ask me and I know what the requirements and training are, so I’m hoping that it will be ok. As long as nothing awful happens, I should be fine.”
Hana smiled at him with approval, thinking how much he’d changed in the last six months. “You know we’ll be proud of you no matter what happens, don’t you?” she reassured.
Tama nodded. “That’s why I’m doing this properly,” he said, wiping the last chip through the remnants of ketchup and shoving it into his mouth. “I want you to be pleased with me.”
Hana watched the teenager as she patted her child’s back. His mind drifted and he degenerated back to checking out passing females with distracted grey eyes. Hana’s love for the teen had grown from hatred and she questioned her own motives, wondering if she sought a replacement for her badly behaved son. Every time she went through the exercise it came back to the fact she genuinely loved Tama. He was a neat kid and Logan’s almost continual backing verified it. Tama’s lack of parental love meant he flourished under any sign of affection and Hana bit her lip, ashamed of her son’s disdain of love when it wasn’t attached to a dollar sign.
Hana ruffled Tama’s hair. “Shall we go back to the unit? We should wash and iron that shirt before you wear it otherwise it might feel starchy and uncomfortable.”
They arrived at the school site before the lunch bell sounded, greeted by pandemonium. Passing through the back gate, cop cars prevented further progress, parked on the grass verge and abandoned in the middle of the road.
“We can’t get through,” Tama commented, looking around him. He eyed the soccer pitch and Hana rolled her eyes.
“I know Collins can’t shout at me anymore but I still wouldn’t dare drive over his grass,” she muttered. “Let’s leave the car outside the gate and walk home. I’ll put Phoe back in the pram. I wanted her to stay asleep but it can’t be helped.”
Hana backed the Honda through the gate, almost taking out a fast moving police car on its way in. “They’re all maniacs,” she gasped, catching the eye of Bodie as he slipped past her. Hana shook her head. “This is never going to get better,” she sighed.
Tama unpacked the pram and they transferred the solid baby into it. A sleeping Phoenix was becoming a heavy Phoenix. She miraculously stayed asleep and Tama pushed the pram while Hana carried his clothing.
A shout as they stepped onto the healthy green grass made them both jump. Hana clutched her chest and Tama laughed. “Collins is in the mortuary, Hana. He’s having a little sleep and waiting for a more conventional burial. Personally, I’d have left him in the compost heap; probably the most useful he’ll ever be.”
“Shut up!” Hana bit, spotting the uniformed male striding towards them. “Don’t let them hear you say that.”
“Can I ask where you’re both going?” the cop said, his tone polite as he strode towards them, wearing a grey jumpsuit and black lace up boots. An enormous Alsatian with exceptionally pointy ears strutted along at his side on a very short lead.
“Home,” Hana said, pointing over to the unit.
The police officer nodded. He was well-spoken, of Māori lineage with an air of confidence which was intimidating. “We have a warrant to search the site ma’am, so I’ll accompany you to your home and let the dog have a run through.”
Hana nodded as the dog wound its way around her pram, having a good sniff underneath and jumping up without putting his paws on it to stick his nose inside. Hana held her breath, hoping her child didn’t open her eyes and find a terrifying beast with its face in hers. But the dog dismissed the pram and adults with a disinterested sniff. They didn’t have whatever it was looking for.
They walked across the grass, dog and handler strolling along next to them as though out for a walk in the park together. Hana felt nervous and fought the urge to gabble about nothing in particular. The cop was tall and dwarfed Hana, making her feel vulnerable and inadequate. Tama winked at her and Hana’s eyes widened, a sinking feeling occupying her stomach.
Hana unlocked the door to the unit and the cop entered first, looking around him and giving the dog a command. The Alsatian sat, its pointy ears twitching and its nose quivering as it saturated itself in the scents of Hana’s tiny home. “Can you accompany me, ma’am?” the cop asked and Hana nodded. She followed as the Alsatian rushed around, checking each room with a series of snorts and sniffs. It circled the bed, sniffing in the bottom of cupboards and standing on its back legs to check the bath before moving on to the baby’s room. Hana struggled to keep up and Tama had only just pushed the pram up the steps when they returned to the lounge with the dog leading.
“All done?” Hana asked and the cop narrowed his eyes and gave a pinched smile.
“Almost, ma’am.” He let the dog sniff the small lounge and kitchen, moving quickly as its tail waved like a rudder. The animal pawed Tama’s sleeping bag strewn across the sofa and then disregarded it, moving around the room and pushing its nose underneath the round dining table. Hana breathed a sigh of relief as the end came into sight and Phoenix snuffled in the pram.
The dog’s tail began to wag in a frenzied anticipation of praise and it sat abruptly next to the dining table, staring at a point under the furthest chair. Its body became statuesque and Hana held her breath. “Good boy!” the cop exclaimed and pulled the dog away. The cop rewarded the dog with exaggerated enthusiasm and the Alsatian exhaled a series of excited snuffs, bouncing on his feathery feet and opening his mouth in a wide smile which made him look less terrifying.
The cop praised the dog and then turned to Hana. “My dog has indicated the scent of drugs. Is there anything you wish to tell me before I call it in?”
Hana and Tama looked at each other, her more bemused than him. “No,” she breathed. “I can’t explain it.” In her panic, Hana noticed Tama fiddling with the pram hood with a guilty look on his face and she gaped at him. “Do you know anything about this?” she asked.
Tama bit his lip and smirked. “For once, Ma, no, I don’t.”
Hana looked to him for help, her face ashen. “I’m not accusing you of having anything,” she whispered, tears in her eyes, desperate not to undo her faith building with the teen.
To her horror he chuckled. “I know you’re not and I’ve never done drugs. There’ll be a simple explanation, don’t worry.”
“Who else lives here?” the officer asked and Hana told him Logan’s name. He nodded once and used his radio, not taking his eyes off the occupants of the room and leaving the dog on the laminated floor staring at the offending spot.
“What can it be?” Hana asked Tama, becoming frightened. “They arrested Logan for something he didn’t do; they don’t care if you’re guilty.”
The policeman gave Hana a disdainful glare and Tama put his arm around her, whispering, “It’s fine, Ma. There’s a million things it could be so don’t go winding them up.”
Within minutes, a crowd of people arrived and poured through the front door, tracking mud and grass without apology. Odering stepped in last, nodding to Hana with a serious face.
“He indicated there,” the cop informed him, pointing underneath the table. “He’s possibly picking up residue of marijuana or something harder. What do you want us to do? The guys can cordon the area off.”
Odering chewed his bottom lip and thought for a long moment. He shook his head. “The idea of drug trafficking or pot smoking doesn’t fit with my understanding of the Du Roses. Let me have a word with Mrs Du Rose,” he said.
His colleague raised dark eyebrows and asked the dog to sit down, watching as Odering considered Hana. “What usually sits under that table?” he asked.
Hana pulled a face, wrinkling her nose and clutching Tama’s sweatshirt in shaking fingers. “Sometimes Logan’s boots, but we have to put things away. This place is too small to leave things out.” She worried at her lip and flicked her eyes to Tama. “Help me out, love,” she asked, begging with her eyes. “Nothing stays down there, does it?”
Tama lifted his head and eyeballed the detective, the smirk lighting his eyes with mischief. “Logan shoved that aeroplane under there so nobody stood on it.”
Hana yanked his sleeve. “No, they’re looking for drugs, Tama, not toys.”
Odering raised his hand to silence her. “Is that the missing plane you retrieved from the shed the other night?” He fixed his eyes on her, his pupils dilating.
Relieved he seemed more interested in the plane than the alleged residue on her lounge floor, Hana swallowed. “Yes, the same plane. There were little maple leaves stuck in the joins and I brushed most of them off on the way back. The shed was covered in them and James told me the plane landed in foliage in the gully.”
“What else did the boy say?” Odering asked, his voice soft. “I haven’t received your statement yet.”
“He didn’t make much sense,” Hana replied, feeling self-conscious as the tall, dark officer stared at her with increased interest. “He was rambling about electric wire and traps and confused me. His written English is impeccable but his speech can be a bit random. Logan took the plane back to him yesterday.”
The cop’s interest perked up and his dog stood, picking up the air of excitement. Odering jerked his head towards the door and his colleague left. Hana heard the dog barking outside and the man praising him. Odering touched Hana’s upper arm lightly and she felt Tama stiffen next to her. “You just explained why the dog tracked from the shed right to your front door earlier,” he said. “We took the dogs through the boarding house and one of them picked up the aeroplane straight away. Unfortunately, the young gentleman who owned it took exception to us seizing it and assaulted one of my officers.”
Hana put her hand up to her mouth in dismay. “Oh no! Is James in trouble?”
Odering narrowed his brow as a reprimand and Hana swallowed, knowing she should enquire after his officer. “Yes, he is,” he bit back.
“But he felt devastated about losing it. His family in Korea is dismally poor and he knew they went without food to send him a birthday present like that. It probably cost his mother a month’s wages and he hasn’t afforded to go home for four years. He came here when he was fourteen and it’s been agony for him.” Hana frowned. “You haven’t arrested him have you? Oh gosh, he must be terrified!”
The detective shook his head and sighed. “Your husband acted for him admirably. He’s keeping James in his office which is why he didn’t rush here like he probably wanted to.” Odering smirked. “Mr Du Rose is a little trapped.” The thought gave him pleasure.
Hana paced the room, getting in the officer’s way as she exorcised her anxiety. “Can I leave?” she asked, looking wildly at the door.
“No.” Odering shook his head, deriving sadistic pleasure from keeping her prisoner.
Hana gulped and darted a look at Tama. He shook his head, reading her mind. Hana reached into the pram and lifted her daughter out, putting her over her shoulder. Phoenix sucked her hand and dribbled on her mother’s blouse.
Odering looked away as Hana patted the baby’s back, engaging in conversation with an officer examining the laminate floor under the table. Hana seized her moment and made a dash for the open unit door, avoiding the throng of cops in her way. Odering swore as she bolted, spinning around on his shiny shoes and watching her scurry away. Hana’s ungainly run brought a smile to his lips, the baby bouncing over her shoulder. He looked at Tama and shook his head. “What the hell does she think she’s doing?” Odering marvelled and Tama shrugged, a giggle rising from his breast and shaking her upper body.
“She’s running from the po-po,” Tama sniggered and Odering afforded a smirk at Hana’s expense. “Can I go too?” Tama asked hopefully and Odering’s smile disappeared.
“No.”
Hana reached the boarding house with a heaving chest. The baby was heavy and her little body bumped around on Hana’s shoulder so she feared she might brain damage her. She slowed down, feeling a fool and walking the rest of the way. Cops swarmed around the front of St. Bart’s, blocking her way. “I want to see my husband,” she insisted. “Logan Du Rose.”
The officer standing in the doorway checked with a senior and allowed Hana to slip past him. “Check with me before you leave,” he told her sternly. Hana grimaced, expecting to feel Odering’s grip on her shoulder any second as he arrested her for running away. She glanced behind him but couldn’t spot his lithe figure chasing after her.
Logan was in his office with James, the latter looking calmer than Hana expected. James leapt to his feet as Hana entered, recognising an ally and Logan looked relieved. “They take machine!” the student exclaimed, injustice screaming from his tone and stance.
“Only temporarily,” Hana reassured him. “The detective will give it back soon. But you shouldn’t have resisted them, James, it’s made things worse for you.”
“That’s what I told him,” Logan said, keeping his voice low and calm, “not that he’ll listen to me.”
Logan leaned against the wall in his familiar thinking position; knee bent and cowboy boot resting against the paint work. Tell-tale heel marks lined the wall, betraying the regularity of Logan’s cruel use of it. “Hey, gorgeous.” His gaze fixed on his smiling daughter and he took her from Hana, cradling her in his strong arms and kissing her forehead. She looked so peaceful and fragile it made him protective, yet he recognised a latent rage at the centre of his core, waiting to be directed at anyone who threatened her. He wondered if Alfred felt it when he held his brother’s cuckoo and he missed the old man with an unexpected physical ache.
“Sit down, James,” Hana told the agitated youth, who plonked into Logan’s office chair with a thud.
“Police is bad,” he ranted. “They make plane disappear and put me in prison. No happy. Want to go home to family. Have to leave!”
Hana stroked the boy’s arm, pulling Pete’s chair out to sit next to him. She noticed the pie stains and dandruff littered over its cushioned seat and squatted next to James instead. “Mr Du Rose will take care of everything,” she promised, peering up at him through eyes full of belief in her husband’s ability to fix the world’s problems. Logan rolled his eyes at his daughter and she smiled. James doubled over and sobbed in a massive release of pent up terror.
Logan lowered his foot and turned to watch the corridors through the mirrored glass, observing the cops moving without haste. Dogs milled next to handlers, eager to be off. A signal was given and the cops disappeared in a rush like water down a drain, leaving a vacuum of emptiness behind.
“There they go,” Logan muttered. He turned to face Hana. “I heard the cops say they’d found drug indications at our place,” he said. She stood up, patting James on the back like an infant. “Was it that stupid...thing?” he asked, jerking his head towards the teenager and not wanting to upset him with mention of his toy.
Hana nodded. “How did know that?” she asked her husband.
“It was covered in the stuff!” Logan replied scathingly. “And you’d have been wearing the residue like a flamin’ second skin if I hadn’t washed everything that night.”
“You did that?” Hana asked. “You sound like a master criminal.” She smirked. “You left a bit though.”
Logan’s storm grey eyes fixed on her face. “I was tired. I flushed the leaves down the toilet, disinfected the...thing and put it in a plastic bag. Then I washed my hands and didn’t touch it again. I just didn’t think about the floor. Guess I’d make a rubbish drug dealer.”
“So how’s the plane connected with all those cops?” Hana asked. “Has Collins’ murder turned into a drugs bust?”
“I dunno.” Logan sighed. “Last night when we got home I saw a light at the edge of the gully. Pete did a head count at St Bart’s but accounted for everyone. At least the boys aren’t involved.”
“Last night? Why didn’t you say something? We could’ve checked it out.”
“That’s why I didn’t say anything!” Logan replied, rolling his eyes. “I’m not taking you into the gully at night and I’ve too much to lose nowadays to go blasting into situations anymore. I bided my time to see what else happened.” Logan kissed his daughter, smiling at the reason for his reticence.
Hana smirked. “Liar. You planned to go tonight instead.”
Logan laughed and didn’t deny it. A dreadful thought occurred to Hana and she eyed the sniffing James with curiosity, hoping Odering’s mind wasn’t leaping in the same direction. She bit her lip and looked to her husband for reassurance and he shook his head. “At the doctor’s for most of the morning with an infected toe,” he whispered as James blew his nose and mopped tears from his olive cheeks. “Matron took him and they went for coffee afterwards. They left before eight o’clock and didn’t come back until after lunch. She had four boys who needed appointments, so she sat and waited with them.”
“That’s good.” Hana nodded with relief.
“Yeah, it is,” Logan whispered, his words hidden in a sigh. “Because otherwise he’d be in custody right now. He totally lost it when they found the plane and that display of anger alone would set him up for motive. Pete said he was out of control.”
“Is this my fault?” Hana asked, hanging her head. “I should’ve warned you he was upset enough about it to ditch class and look for me.”
Logan shook his head, distracted by the arrival of another group of police officers who collected in the foyer. “No, I knew he was anxious and should’ve done more to help.” His eyes fixed on the uniformed men. “What’re they doing now? Why can’t they wait outside? This is a boarding house, not a bloody police social club!”
“You could ask them to leave,” Hana suggested and Logan snorted.
“Yeah. Because they listen to me.” The sarcasm in his voice made Hana wince and she turned back to James.
“I need to go home now, James,” she said, her voice gentle. “But Mr Du Rose will look after you.”
“Hang on,” Logan hissed and Hana stood, watching as the knot of cops parted. Through the mirrored glass, Hana watched her son stride towards them and her breath caught in her chest. Almost the image of Vikram Johan, it seemed there was nothing of the young, frightened Hana McIntyre in him; he seemed like a stranger.
Bodie opened the door without knocking, unsurprised to find Hana standing next to James in Logan’s office. He ignored his mother, grinding his teeth at the incongruous sight of his step father cradling the baby in his arms. There was a tenderness in the way the hard man held Bodie’s half-sister and it came again, that feeling of being left out and excluded.
Hana got her brightest smile ready for her son, noticing the cut beneath his left eye. She held her arms out for Phoenix, standing on tip-toe to kiss her husband. “You want my statement now?” she asked Bodie, keeping her voice light.
He nodded, his face maintaining a professional blankness. Logan stepped away from the wall. “Can James to go back to class, officer?” he asked. “I’ll walk him over and you can use my office.”
Bodie nodded once with a sharp, jerky movement and Logan squatted next to James. “Come on mate,” he said gently, “let’s get you to class. What do you have now? I’ll walk you there and explain.” Logan held his hand out towards James and touched him on the upper arm. “Come on, man, let’s go.”
The young man collapsed as though shot, crumpling to the floor. His eyes looked black with terror, his pupils massive. “No, no. Enough, enough. I go home, can’t do this. It’s too hard, too hard. I want my family. I am failure. They pay for me to be success and I am failure.”
Hana closed her eyes and looked away in misery at the boy’s anguish. He was the family protégé, the flagship sent away to gain an education which would repay his family’s toil and faith in him for years to come. Logan shook his head and looked up at him. “You’re nearly there, James. A few more months and it’s all over; you can arrive home with qualifications and go to university, get a good job and help them.” He balanced himself with one forearm across James’s knees, ruffling the boy’s poker straight dark hair with the other hand. “Mate,” he whispered, “we’ve talked about this. You’re top James in every subject. You’re in the running to be school Dux if you keep going – that’s an honour. You’ll go home a hero. You’re not a failure so stop telling yourself that. Seeing your dreams just over the horizon’s always the worst part. But it’s not as bad as never seeing them at all. Come on James. Get a grip, man!”
James misunderstood the colloquial phrase and reached out for Logan’s forearm, squeezing it in a firm grip. “Get grip,” he repeated, nodding and drawing strength from the physical contact. He rallied, pushing the emotional strain from his face and bowing in his seat.
Logan stood up and took a step back while James wrestled himself from the chair. “Come on,” Logan said with authority, sounding like a teacher again. “Let’s go.”
At the doorway, Bodie stood back to let them pass and Logan ignored him as though he wasn’t there. James bowed regally in front of him. “I very sorry for upset and smack round head. You keep plane; my gift to you for reparation.”
With an encouraging jerk of Logan’s head they left, striding along the corridor and stepping between the police bodies. Logan’s head and shoulders rose above most of the police officers and Hana sighed. “The first time I met James he was lost in a downstairs hallway, frantically searching for his math’s class. He’s highly intelligent and will do something ground breaking in engineering or computers one day. The other boys make fun of him and he pretends he doesn’t understand but sometimes I think he knows very well what they’re saying.” Hana’s eyes flicked to her son, finding cold brown eyes and an impassive expression staring back. She gulped and swallowed. “Angus took him under his wing and tutored him for the whole of Year 9. He can write English better than me but struggles to speak it sometimes.”
“Mum?” Bodie’s voice held a spiteful edge and Hana’s brow furrowed. “I don’t care about some kid I don’t know. Let’s just get on with this.”
“How can you be like that?” Hana asked. “He’s a nice kid.” She stared at the stranger in front of her.
“That’s right,” her son retorted, touching the cut beneath his eye and wincing. “You’re always thinking of someone else.”
Hana reacted as though stung by her son’s accusation. Her face registered shock and sadness before receding to complacency. “What’s happened to you?” she asked, her voice hushed. “I gave you everything I had and you’ve turned into a complete arse hole. I’m tired of this, Bodie Johal. I’m tired of a needy, selfish, grown man feeding off my emotions like a little boy. I’m so sorry that a terrified international student who’s used to police making people disappear in the night, tried to defend himself against his perception of you.” Hana clutched her daughter to her breast. “You’ve become a bitter, twisted little man,” she snapped. “Vik would be disgusted because although he was an adulterer, he was still a man of courtesy and compassion. I’m disappointed in you, Bodie and the man you’ve become.”
Phoenix began to grizzle and Hana shook her head. “You know what? I’d like someone else to take my statement, please. You can tell them where to find me.”
Hana strode from St Bart’s and arrived at the unit in distress. She asked Odering to take her statement and he obliged, not asking her reasons for rejecting his Sergeant. She told him everything detail she could remember about her tennis opponent, realising the nice young man had become a murder suspect.
“So, you played tennis with him twice at night?” Odering asked, his voice level.
Hana nodded. “I know it was stupid. He knew me from the tennis club years ago and seemed harmless. I’m certain he didn’t kill Larry Collins but I know you have an investigation to complete.” She sighed and accepted the mug of tea Tama pressed into her cold fingers.
“What did he look like?” Odering asked. “Could you pick him out from a line up or a set of photos?”
Hana shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “He’s tall, very blonde and good looking. But he looked like a lot of other tall, blonde, handsome men. I don’t remember any distinguishing features apart from his very fair hair. I’m sorry.” She sipped her tea. “Lachlan, I think his name was Lachlan; it was written on the case of the racquet I borrowed.” Looking down, Hana saw Phoenix laying perfectly still across her thighs, studying her mother with an intense gaze. Her grey eyes were knowing and filled with unshared wisdom, uncanny for a baby.
The child volunteered a beautiful smile, her eyes crinkling like Logan’s. “You’re divine,” Hana whispered.
“She looks like your husband’s sister,” Odering commented and Hana glanced at him in surprise.
“You know Liza?”
Odering sniffed. “She’s tried some of my cases. The woman’s got nerves of steel but she’s stunning to look at.”
Hana nodded. “None of my children look like me. Bo and Izzie look like their father, his Indian heritage screamed louder than mine. But sometimes I catch a face expression or a look that’s mine and it’s just enough to satisfy me.”
“You’re very beautiful,” Odering whispered, his eyes sparkling in a way which affected the pit of Hana’s stomach.
She shook her head. “No, my auburn hair and pale English skin can’t compete with the Māori lineage of the Du Roses. They’re beautiful.”
Hana’s heart cried out to the child of her middle age and received an answer. She smiled at her baby and the little mouth beamed wider, all innocent infant again. Hana sighed. “Are we done now? I feel quite tired.”
Odering nodded and Hana hid in her bedroom for a while, enjoying a precious, quiet moment with her daughter. Phoenix rewarded her with little noises which were her attempt at speech, pursing up her delightful rosebud lips and blowing bubbles.
“They’ve found something,” Tama said, bursting into the bedroom. “They all ran over to St Bart’s. What do you think it is?”
“I don’t know,” Hana replied, rocking her daughter.
“Logan thinks there’s a marijuana farm in the gully.”
“There can’t be. The cops would’ve found it weeks ago because they checked down there.”
“They checked for clues in a murder case, not a drugs operation.” Tama’s eyes were wide with excitement.
Hana shook her head. “This is terrible. Larry Collins must have been involved with it and James saw him. What if someone saw James? Whoever killed Collins could intend to silence James. That means an innocent boy’s in danger.”