Chapter Five
Bridger sat on one side of the table in the small stuffy room; across from him Tama Wilson was slouching arrogantly in the chair, his bandaged leg placed awkwardly in front of him, small spots of blood seeping through the white of the dressings. It had taken two hours for the doctor to sort out his leg and declare him fit enough to be interviewed, Tama had only just stopped snivelling. He had seen plenty of supposed hard men cry in his time so he had no sympathy for Tama.
Off to the side of the table between them, an ominous black box housing digital recording equipment sat silently.
The search of Tama's house had not found the weapon used to shoot the shopkeeper the previous evening. It was a small setback but one that Bridger hoped would not matter if Tama were willing to cooperate.
"Once Detective Wright gets back with your cup of water we will start the interview. You do understand why you are here don't you Tama?” Bridger said, trying to build a rapport.
Tama just shrugged his shoulders.
"We need to ask you some questions about last night". He did not let on exactly what it was he wanted to know, let Tama fill in the gaps, he might let something slip. Bridger looked Tama in the eye waiting for some sort of reply.
"Fuck you, why did you need the dog and guns for if you just wanted to ask me some questions? You've gone and fucked up my leg now, I'm gonna make a complaint to my lawyer, you's are gonna get done for what you did". Tama had regained some of his confidence now that the painkillers had kicked in.
Not quite the rapport he was hoping for, but before Bridger could reply Becky came in with a cup of water for Tama. Placing the cup in front of him, she sat down next to Bridger.
"Right then let’s get on with it", Bridger said, pushing record on the machine next to him. He began reading the preamble off the cue card in front of him. Clarifying Tama's name and details as well as his rights while under arrest and during the interview.
Tama declined to speak with a lawyer then said nothing for the entire interview. He was sitting petulantly, arms crossed, rolling his eyes occasionally and sniggering under his breath as Bridger described the incident in as much detail as possible in an attempt to appeal to his rational side, if he had one.
Becky had tried a different tact and had asked Tama about 'The Gang' and what he knew about Joseph Kingi. Bridger had seen a slight change in his demeanour at the mention of this name, a look of fear had flickered across his eyes. Not much, but it told him that Tama Wilson knew more than he was letting on. They were looking in the right direction.
Tama remained silent, smirking to himself.
The interview concluded and they were none the wiser about how Tama's fingerprints came to be on the cans found near the stolen car and what his involvement was with the robbery and shooting.
It was not a real castle, just a ruin really; originally built for the seventh son of Captain William Cargill, one of Dunedin's founding fathers. His son's name was Edward Bowes Cargill, a prominent businessman and one time Mayor of Dunedin. Construction began in 1876 and it was a grand building in its day, built out of poured concrete, it had parapets similar to a castle. 'The Cliffs' was its actual name but the locals referred to it as 'Cargill's Castle', a name that has stuck right through its decline into the ruin it is today.
Martin sat below what was left of the grey concrete wall at the front of the building, the sun was shining on his face, and his t-shirt was stuck to his skin with drying sweat. It had been ten minutes and his breathing had only just returned to normal.
Too many bloody cigarettes, his mother always said it was a filthy habit; his stepfather did not give two shits either way and regularly stole from his pack. He could really feel the heaviness in his chest today.
From where he sat, high on the cliffs edge, trying to slow his breathing, he could see the cold Pacific Ocean as it washed up on St Clair beach far below. A few surfers were braving the spring temperatures and riding their boards just off the rocky point, down by the council run salt-water hot pools.
He realised then that he had never been to those pools before. He could not even remember the last time he had even swam in the ocean. He lived so close to the ocean all his life, but he felt he did not belong there.
Looking at his watch again, he noted the time. Tama had not shown up, but he was only a little concerned, he knew his friend would be here shortly.
He sat back against the cold concrete, being at the castle always brought back memories of childhood adventures, imaginary games shared between the innocent minds of the children they once were. He and Tama had discovered it a long time ago, not long after they were old enough to roam the neighbourhood on their own. Not that there seemed to be any specific age it happened, no one was usually around to stop them and those that were never seemed to care. His mother was always at work, trying to earn money to support him and his useless stepfather.
That day they had felt brave enough to leave the street they lived on and embark on an adventure into the big bad world. Back then it had seemed that they walked for hours before stumbling across the ruins, but now that they were older it was only a few blocks from home, just on the other side of the golf course.
That was before it started to happen, although if Martin was honest it was probably already happening to Tama. He remembered Tama was always crying, never wanting to be at Martin's house. Tama had it worse than Martin; his parents were violent drunks in those days, the worst of the violence only stopping when his father went to jail. He had no escape, it was no wonder Tama was as messed up as he was. When his stepfather had started on him, it must have been because he had grown bored with Tama and wanted to experience the thrill of someone closer to home.
That shame still burned in the pit of his stomach but it had long since turned to hatred. He wanted to kill that sick predator that had taken his innocence but he knew that it would destroy his mother. He did not blame her, he had never told her about what went on so how would she know. She just kept toiling away in the hope that her family would be all right. The same story repeated itself throughout his world, the plight of so many shielded by the need to survive.
Things were starting to fall apart for him now; he could feel it slipping away. Last night had probably sealed their fate; he would be destined to a life in jail. Like so many others before them, it all came down to a choice. Martin hated the fact he was in this life, he only did the things that came naturally to him in order to survive, to have what everyone else had, a normal life.
Tama was supposed to be his brother in arms, them against the world. He was someone who had shared similar experiences and could relate to how he felt.
Martin felt he had more to offer to the world than what he had given so far, the man had told him that it would happen. He just had to wait. However, things were not going the right way. If he could just get out, he would go to Auckland maybe and start a new life where nobody knew where he had come from. He would be free from people's knowing stares; the images of what he had lived through reflected clearly in their eyes. These thoughts always gave him a warm feeling, as if they were real; they were supposed to happen, as if he could actually achieve them. He had spoken about them with Tama often enough and at first he thought Tama had felt the same but he knew in his heart that Tama would never go with him, despite all his talk. Tama was going to hold him back, as much as he hated the idea he needed to cut the connection and move on before his friend dragged him even further from his desired life.
His phone beeped in his pocket and Martin pulled it out, retrieving the text message he saw it was from Joseph Kingi.
'T's bn pulld, he btr not tlk or I'll fkn kill him'.
'Shit' he thought looking at the message in crude text speak. He hoped Tama was in the right frame of mind to keep his mouth shut but he could not be sure given the state he was in back at the house.
The message had unnerved him, he had not really thought about Tama being a grass, not seriously. He could n
ot let that happen, he wanted too much from his life to have it snatched away by Tama's loose lips.
Tama's smiling face jumped into his head, poor simple Tama, he could not be sure that Tama would have the mental strength to keep everything to himself. He would let himself get confused, maybe say something he did not want to, and then he would sink everyone with his ineptitude. A sudden sadness washed over him.
Martin knew this was the end of the line for Tama, Joseph was not going to believe him whatever he said about his unplanned visit to the police station, if they even let him out. Prison would not even be a safe place given the fact that Joseph’s father controlled the inside as well. He knew in his heart that he would never be able to move on with Tama still hanging around his neck.
Sadly, he knew what he had to do; it would be the kindest thing for Tama in the end. He just hoped he would have the guts to do what he needed to when the time came.
For now, he would just have to wait and see if the police would release Tama from his nightmare.
Martin stood up and looked at the view before him, he would miss this place, but he would never look back.
They had to let Tama go, Matthews was not going to let them keep him in the station any longer than was necessary, the evidence just didn't eventuate the way Bridger would have liked. He had argued the point with Matthews, but had known that he was right, all they actually had, were fingerprints on some cans found near to where they located the stolen car. Without Tama admitting to anything, they could not charge him and just to rub salt in the wounds the Surveillance squad was out of town on another job and not available to monitor his movement's once he left the Police station.
Bridger's mood had darkened considerably since the morning's excitement, he knew Tama was involved; it was the way he had reacted by trying to run and then staying silent in the interview. If Tama were not involved, he would have been protesting his innocence. His gut instinct was screaming at him and he trusted his instincts, so he was not happy as he entered the cellblock to tell him the good news.
"If you're looking for Wilson, he's in with his lawyer", a voice said from behind a small partition wall. Steve 'the muscle' Kirkland stuck his head around the side of the wall grinning, his large muscular frame stretching his blue shirt almost to the point of ripping, "I saw you come in on the CCTV monitor…, how's it going Mike, it’s good to see you back".
Bridger just nodded as he took in the name of the lawyer on the prisoner board next to Tama's name. The name read, 'J Little'.
Jane Little was a lawyer with Jones Allen, a local firm who dealt with criminal cases; they provided legal aid and were on the list that the Police provided to anyone under arrest who did not have their own lawyer. She was also Bridger's Achilles heel and she had shared a bed with him on numerous occasions. He had not seen her since before he found himself on leave.
The door to the small interview room opened and she stepped out into the confines of the charge room. She had her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and was wearing a smart, close fitting trouser suit. Subtle perfume teased at Bridger's nostrils, her smell was one thing he remembered and to his discomfort, he found himself getting slightly aroused.
"Hi Mike, I thought you were on leave". Jane smiled as she spoke but did not let on there was anything else between them but professional courtesy.
"They can't do without me so I had to come back", Bridger said trying for a lighter approach to hide his discomfort, aware of Steve watching them both closely. "Have you spoken to Mr Wilson? I was just about to release him".
"Yes…, and I am pleased that you are just about to release him, I was just about to suggest the same thing. You have absolutely no evidence to suggest that my client was involved in anything other than drinking in a public place. Last time I checked there is no 'liquor ban' at Unity Park, so it’s not against the law". Jane Little was back to being all business, "And as for using the guns and dogs when you went looking for him...” Jane shook her head a little, "Don't you think that was a little over the top?"
Bridger regarded Jane's challenging look she was giving him. Was this all a game to her? He realised that they both lived in very different worlds and he did not really know much about hers at all.
"We did what we did for the safety of all those involved this morning..., including your client", Bridger replied stonily. He was about to continue when he saw Tama standing behind Jane in the doorway making lewd sexual gestures behind her back. He wanted to reach over and grab him by the throat and beat a confession out of him. Teach the little shit he could not hide behind his Lawyer who he obviously had no respect for either.
"We'll that's all academic now", Jane said "I'll be speaking with my boss, Tama may have a case to take this further, now if you'll excuse me". Jane Little turned and let herself out of the door without even acknowledging her client. Three sets of eyes following her departure.
"She got you there Mike", Steve said, his cheeks had a slight flush on them.
Bridger just stood there shaking his head. "Let's get this done", he said angrily, turning back to Tama Wilson.
"What the fuck were you thinking Junior?", Joseph Kingi senior knew the use of the name Junior would wind his son up, "Going shopping with two losers like that, what have I always told you, keep it in the fucking family". Word had reached him quickly, even through the thick concrete walls of his world.
"Fuck you, you old prick, if you didn't have such expensive tastes I wouldn't need to would I.... Maybe it is time you stood aside.... There's not a lot you can do about it right now is there". Joseph junior spat out his reply but it lacked conviction.
Joseph senior was not stupid; he knew the screws would be monitoring the phones. Nothing was secret in prison, but as soon as he heard what had happened he needed to get his son a message, the business needed protecting. If Joseph junior lost control on the outside it would make his position on the inside untenable, he had pissed off to many people to not be the 'king pin' anymore.
"This is your issue, you need to sort it. I don't care how..., just do it." Joseph senior cut the connection before his son could reply. He had said enough to get the message across but had been careful not to say or do anything illegal. That will keep the screws scratching their heads, he thought grimly.
Placing the phone back on its cradle he turned and took in his surroundings. He saw the same sterile painted concrete walls, the same smell of desperation and despair leeching out of them. He had been here for three long and arduous years and he had at least another eight to go. If he had to be in this shit hole he wanted to retain his position at the top of the pile, but his son was out of control and that scared him. If Joseph junior did not look after things, it opened up an opportunity for those trapped inside with him to make a move. Without the threat on the outside keeping them in line, some of those men scared him more than anyone had before. He was getting to old and tired to have to assert his status continually as a way of protection.
Allegiances between desperate men caged together changed on the slightest whisper of vulnerability and he was starting to feel vulnerable for the first time since he was a child. A few tame screws on the inside did nothing for his confidence either.
He had hoped that his son would be able to step up and take care of business after he went inside, unfortunately Joseph junior was just like the rest, arrogant, dumb and full of his own importance, but with a violent streak that would lead him straight to hell.
He did not particularly like his son, but he was blood and that counted for enough.
Rule number one if you wanted a long and successful criminal career, never do anything to warrant extra attention to yourself. Killing someone outside of the world you lived in got you sent down faster than anything did. The Police did not care if you blew each other away, gang on gang, lender on defaulter, they would put in just enough effort to show willing, but kill a civilian and they came down hard. They poured all their resources into finding out which subject of the underclass
dared to take out one of their kind.
Joseph junior had crossed a line even if he had not pulled the trigger.
He needed to do something, but he could not let anyone see it coming from him, that was not an option. With this in mind, he picked up the phone and made another call. This might work to his advantage after-all; maybe he could kill all the birds with the one stone. It needed to work; he could not afford it not to.
Wasted Lives, a Detective Mike Bridger novel Page 6
