At that stage, he was too weak to call out, just wide-eyed and shaking uncontrollably from shock and hypothermia. His father lowered a ladder down the five-metre shaft and squeezed himself down the narrow well.
Bill didn’t speak until several days later.
“Niko, let’s cordon the area off and I’ll call it in to Orewa,” Bill said. “We need to inform the big boys.” He wondered who they would send.
4
Bill pulled out his notebook and looked at a pale Avery as they sat down on the outdoor furniture at the front of the house. Avery went over the events leading up to finding the hand while Bill took notes.
“Did you hear a vehicle driving up in the night or early hours of the morning, or was Beau alerted to someone on the property?” Bill asked.
“No, I can’t say that we heard anything. The bedroom is on the second storey. Beau sleeps on his rug in the kitchen. I would have heard if he’d got unsettled and barked.”
“Any other vehicles that have driven up in the last few days that seemed out of the ordinary?”
“Not that we’ve noticed. With the farm shop and cellar door, there are quite a few cars coming up from time to time,” Avery said, absentmindedly stroking Beau’s head. “I guess the old boy’s hearing isn’t what it used to be.”
The lush greenery of the mature hedges cocooned them, providing a comforting embrace and some escape from the harsh reality of the scene under the house. A soft rustling of leaves and a tinkling of delicate notes from the wind chime on the veranda in the distance was a welcome distraction. An earthy tang of the first windfall apples lingered in the air, the sour cider smell reminding Avery of his carefree childhood running around in the family apple orchard in Central Otago. He had inherited his love of the land from his hardworking parents, with most of the family’s income coming from the sale of apple cider in the autumn. The process had mesmerised Avery, and that’s what had got him interested in viticulture.
Lexi brought a tray with morning tea out and put an enormous pot of coffee and the new white porcelain mugs on the table. The smell of fresh bread and strong coffee permeated the air and Beau was happily snoozing in the sun, twitching ever so gently, chasing rabbits in his dreams as he slept by Lexi’s feet.
A pair of fantails fluttered in and out of the old oak tree within metres of the table, no doubt feeding their last lot of young for the season. The birds’ dark grey plumage and orange chests glimmered in the morning sun. Beau stirred momentarily before losing interest and going back to sleep. It was like any other lazy Sunday morning — if there wasn’t a human hand under the house. Lexi shivered, despite the warmth of the sun.
Beau raised his head sleepily as the second police car pulled in, then set off to say hello to the two men stepping out of the vehicle.
Bill’s heart sank when from the driver’s side an older man stepped out, his weathered features and stern mouth framed by tufts of coarse grey hair, slightly thinning on top. A gust of wind caught the combed-over tresses, whirling them around. His hand immediately smoothed them down.
The younger cop, in his mid-thirties and lanky, had a friendly smile and bent down to scratch Beau behind the ears, making them best friends immediately. The older man completely ignored him on his way past. A disappointed Beau’s ears went down and he slunk away.
“Granger, what do we have here?” The voice was as gruff as his grey demeanour.
Before answering, Bill gestured to his right. “This is Constable Niko Sopoanga.”
Niko grinned and put his hand out to say hello. Rudd ignored the introduction and had already turned away, addressing Avery first. “I’m Detective Senior Sergeant Brian Rudd from the CIB in Orewa. I understand you found the limb. This is my colleague Andrew Copeson,” Rudd said, turning back to Bill before Avery answered.
Andrew Copeson was the complete opposite of his colleague and smiled warmly when introduced. “Copeson, get the kit. Granger will show us the way.” Rudd turned his back on them while scanning the surrounding area.
“Okay, tell me what you know,” Rudd said brusquely. If Bill had been a rookie it would have intimidated him; instead he felt annoyance rising. He disliked bullies.
“We arrived on the scene at eight twenty-one,” Bill said, looking Rudd in the eye.
“What time was the call logged?”
“The call came in just before eight this morning.”
“How did they discover the severed hand under the house? It’s not like it was visible.”
Bill had to bite his tongue in order to not snap and tersely relayed the morning’s events from start to finish.
Rudd grunted, making notes without looking up or making eye contact. “Have you got the equipment set up, Copeson? And where is that photographer?”
Another car came up the driveway covered in a dust cloud, and a youthful man hopped out. The boy barely looked older than Gabriel, not helped by his uniform being slightly ill-fitting.
“I’m Jono,” he said, his curly hair flopping as he walked over. “Sorry, I got a bit lost and had to turn around.”
“About time,” Rudd huffed and turned away, his footfall crunching on the dusty white path as he walked to the back of the house, Jono pulling a face behind his back. Niko followed, giving Jono a hand with the lighting stands.
Copeson and Rudd got suited up in the protective gear. As they opened the trellis door, the putrid smell was worse than ever as the air had warmed up. Bill’s green smoothie from this morning was threatening to reappear. He was pleased it wasn’t him going back into the cramped space.
“Granger, show us where you found it, but take care where you put your feet,” Rudd said.
Bill gritted his teeth. He remembered why he couldn’t stand the grumpy old git. They had crossed paths before, each time as difficult as the last. You’d have thought the Orewa station would have got rid of him by now, either on a disciplinary matter or transferred him somewhere else, but obviously not. Thankfully he wouldn’t have too many years left before retirement. Bill was sure he wasn’t the only one counting down.
Bill stood at the entrance, trying not breathe in. He pointed. “It’s just over there by the blocks.”
“Okay Granger, wait for us outside.” Rudd didn’t even glance at him. He was in work mode, concentrating to the max as his flashlight swept the scene.
As Copeson’s eyes got used to the dim light he could see the pieces of building material that had clearly been there for a while. He had put stepping plates down on the dirt floor and squatted down. He liked to change the viewpoint and looking at things from a fresh perspective. He and Rudd had their own investigating styles, but somehow it worked well; they complemented each other. They had worked together for a long time and he was used to Rudd’s abrasiveness. Even though he didn’t always like his manners, Copeson had a lot of respect for the man who never took shortcuts or compromised a situation. Even though Copeson had been in the force for the last fifteen years, the last five at Orewa CIB, Rudd still treated him as a rookie, although things had improved since he started standing up for himself on occasion. It seemed Rudd respected him more, but he sometimes forgot and fell back into his old ways of being gruff and plain rude.
“Let’s go from here, Copeson. We’ll move the lights as we need to,” Rudd said.
“Sure.” Copeson bent himself in half, trying not to hit his head on the low rafters. The stepping plates didn’t help as they elevated him a couple of centimetres. At first glance, apart from a few shoe prints left in the fine dirt, which they marked, there didn’t seem to be much of interest.
The strong rotting smell was getting worse. The severed hand was quickly deteriorating in the warm weather and decomposition was in full force. Copeson, an active member of the local Entomology Society, never tired of studying insects in the field and was glad he got to pursue his hobby in his line of work occasionally. The interesting thing with flies is that they rarely travel further than one or two miles when looking for food, but can fly a lot furth
er when attracted by the unmistakable odour of rotting flesh.
With the buzzing in his ears, Copeson leaned forward. “This needs to be bagged up.” He wiped the sweat off his brow while moving backward out of the cramped space.
Rudd grunted in reply and moved to have a closer look. “It doesn’t look like it’s been here that long, I would guess less than twenty-four hours. Any longer and there would be nothing left by the looks of what the rats have gnawed off already.”
They went through the rest of the area methodically and marked anything else that might be of interest and finished as they were back at the door.
Rudd and Copeson emerged from under the house covered in cobwebs and dirt, faces striped from the sweat running down them. Being back in the fresh air was a relief.
Rudd stretched his aching back. “All yours, Jono. Take plenty of photos, and don’t forget that burned-out water pump unit.”
Jono pulled on the protective suit and got going.
“Is there anywhere we could rinse the dirt off?” Copeson asked Avery.
“Come with me. There’s a tap by the water tanks. Rounding the corner, the men walked straight into Samantha washing her hair with the garden hose.
“What the hell? Take a photo, it’ll last longer,” she snapped, embarrassed at being seen rinsing her hair out and looking less than impressed with an audience watching.
“Sorry, sweetheart, we didn’t mean to startle you,” Avery said, but Samantha stomped away in a huff.
“Teenagers,” he said. “I completely forgot, I need to call Ben Wilson, the electrician, to come and have a look at the water pump. That’s if he isn’t surfing and will come out on a Sunday.” He turned to Rudd “When do you think we could get the pump seen to? There’s no running water in the house without the pump working.”
“ESR might want to take it with them. By the looks of it, you’ll need a new one.” Rudd washed his face under the tap.
As the car from Environmental Science and Research pulled up next to the police cars, Beau got up on stiff legs and stretched before bounding to meet the visitors. Emma Stansfield had legs that seemed to go on forever, Bill thought, accentuated just enough by her slim-line navy trousers. A crisp sleeveless white blouse neatly tucked in cinched her slim waist. Her blonde ponytail swished as she walked. With her brilliant white smile, bronzed face, and well-sculpted arm muscles, she looked as though she belonged on a surfing billboard. Avery looked mesmerised. Lexi had noticed her husband overtly staring, and did not look pleased.
Emma’s partner Graham Rossi, an experienced Crime Scene Analyst in his early forties, was a good fifteen years older than her and was carrying most of the kit. His figure-hugging grey trousers and loud short-sleeved shirt exposing his dark hairy chest made his Italian heritage clear. Bill smiled; he didn’t think women fell for the stereotypical look. Still, Graham was in exceptional shape, his muscular body bulging in the right places through his clothes. Bill was sure he was well aware of the fact. Emma said hello to Rudd and Copeson and made the introductions to the rest. “Right, I guess that we’ll leave it to you two,” Rudd huffed, eager to get away. The two ESR Crime Scene Analysts headed around the back.
As Rudd walked towards the car, he scowled and turned to Bill. “Orewa’s dealing with multiple inquiries and I’m short staffed. You will have to handle some of this case from here, if that’s not too much to ask,” Rudd said, looking down his nose.
“We’ll do our best,” Bill said, slightly bemused at the decision.
“Good, that’s settled then,” Rudd said and turned on his heels and walked towards the car. Turning to Niko, Bill wondered what he’d agreed to. Returning his attention to this morning’s event, he walked over to let Lexi & Avery know that they were leaving.
Bill could see that Lexi was exhausted so suggested that if they thought of anything else to pop in to see him at the station later today. Lexi gave him a look of relief. He could see she needed a reprieve and to catch her breath.
“That sounds good,” she said, managing a weak smile. “I need to check on the children anyway.” She walked towards the house, with her faithful companion Beau in tow.
“It’s been quite a shock for her,” Avery said. “If we’re all done here I’d better go inside as well.”
“ESR will stay on for a while. Once they leave you can have the electrician come around,” Bill said.
“Thanks, mate,” Avery said, gratitude in his eyes.
Avery made his way up the stairs and into the kitchen where Lexi was staring out the window “Are you okay, darling?” he said.
“No, I’m not okay. Someone’s bloody hand is under our house! Are we even safe here?” Tears welled up in her eyes. “And it doesn’t help you making eyes at every pretty girl you meet, either.” She bit her lip, looking down at the floor.
“We’ll be fine,” Avery said and took a step closer, opening his arms. Grudgingly at first, she melted into his chest, and for a few seconds, she let go.
5
Lexi phoned her best friend Annika who promptly invited them all to come over and freshen up. Once in the car, the pent-up nervousness and the uncertainty of the morning finally erupted. Samantha and Gabriel, even though they were too old for this, argued about whose turn it was to sit in the front seat. Evie was losing her temper because she could not find her favourite unicorn T-shirt and was whining like a three-year-old. The noise level reached a ridiculous level. Halfway down the driveway, Lexi’s reasoning flew out the window and she stood hard on the brake, lurching everyone forward, cloaking the car in a cloud of dust, the shock silencing them all. It wasn’t often that Lexi lost her patience.
“I know this is stressful for us all but will you behave yourselves. You’re not pre-schoolers,” she snapped.
“I’m not sure I want to come back home again. What if the person comes back to hurt us?” Evie said, her voice trembling. She sounded close to tears.
“Me neither. It’s so creepy,” Samantha said. “I think we should stay with Aunty Annika.”
“What about Dad, I should have stayed with him, in case this nut job comes back.” Gabriel was trying to sound older and more grown-up than his sixteen years.
“Listen, everyone, Dad will be perfectly fine,” Lexi said, sounding more confident than she felt. “The people from ESR are still there, then the electrician will come over. It’s not like he’ll be on his own. Besides, he’s got Beau there.”
Lexi rarely lost her temper, but it seemed to have the desired effect as the children sat quietly for the rest of the drive. Unfortunately, her own mind was working overtime and the thought of some unhinged individual walking among them frightened her to the core. When she was younger, true crime, and the people behind it, had always fascinated her. That was what got her into nursing, specialising in psychiatric care. But it had been a relief to give it up when she had children, as emotionally it took a toll on her.
Driving through Matakana Village and on to Leigh Road, they went past Rusty’s on the corner and then The Stables Restaurant, both family favourites, before arriving at Annika and Bill’s house. The sight of the hundred-year-old white villa framed by dense hibiscus and a sea of bright pink flowers swaying gently in the breeze felt like a warm embrace. Lexi parked the car and everyone piled out.
Annika appeared on the front porch, her blonde hair swept up into a soft topknot, loose strands framing her face. Even though she was in her late forties, her skin still glowed from within, something Lexi put down to her good Scandinavian genes. She was dressed in workout gear, her figure almost as athletic as it was when they first met all those years ago in London. The twins, ten-year-old Anna and Veronica, pushed past their mother and ran down the narrow brick path, closely followed by their older sister Katie, who recently had turned fifteen. The girls looked like their mother, tall with golden flowing locks, although Katie’s had been cut into a bob which made her hair look slightly curly, something she seemed quite pleased about.
Annika gave Lexi a hug
. “How are you guys doing?” The twins and Katie all talked over the top of each other, asking lots of questions with Sam and Evie trying to answer as best as they could.
“Did you see it? What if there are body parts hidden all over the farm?” Veronica said with great animation.
“Girls, that’s enough.” Annika gave her daughters a stern look. “Have they not been through enough this morning?”
“Sorry Mamma, I didn’t mean to be insensitive,” Veronica said, downcast.
“No problems, V.” Lexi put her arm around the young girl. “We’ve all got so many questions too.”
“Hey, guess what, Mamma has made her yummy Swedish Socker Bullar,” Anna said with a hint of the melodic Gotland dialect.
Samantha and Evie looked unsure for a moment.
“You know, those cinnamon rolls with pearl sugar on top,” Anna continued excitedly.
The girl’s face lit up and Lexi smiled.
“Who wants the first shower?” Annika asked, and the stampede up the stairs started.
Lexi gratefully sat down on the long wooden seat in the kitchen where the two families had enjoyed many a noisy dinner. Lexi had held her emotions together until now, but she could feel tears burning behind her eyelids.
Tears flowed down Lexi’s cheeks. “What is happening to us?” She reached over the table for a tissue. “It feels personal somehow, don’t you think?”
Blood On Vines Page 3
