smirking. ‘Nuttin.’
But to Matt it certainly wasn’t ‘nuttin’, it was ‘sumtin’. He’d been ridiculed and Jackson had started it. He’d spent the morning trying to help the kid and this was the thanks he got. Well, as far as he was concerned, Jackson Peters, or Juzza, or whatever other stupid name he wanted to call himself could get lost. He wanted nothing more to do with him.
The police arrived half an hour after Matt made the telephone call. He’d discussed the whole thing with Nan, and she’d agreed that he had to call them. She also agreed that it was best to leave Jackson out of it, if that’s what he wanted.
The two policemen introduced themselves as Constables Burton Smith and Lewis Morunga, but called each other Burty and Lew. To Matt, they seemed like a couple of OK guys. In between firing questions, Burty noisily filled himself up with Nan’s baking while Lew stuck to the coffee. The strain on Burty’s uniform suggested that eating was a popular pastime: his stab-resistant vest looked more like a corset than body armour. Lew Morunga was smaller, both in bulk and height. In between sips of coffee, he wrote notes in a patrol book which he’d covered with koru-patterned doodles; he let his pakeha partner do most of the talking.
Matt had just got to the bit where he’d discovered the skull when Hone arrived home.
He rushed into the kitchen. ‘What’s happened? Why are the police here?’
Nan quickly took his arm and guided him back out thedoor. ‘It’s nothing to worry about, dear. If you just come out here, I’ll tell you all about it…’
Soon afterwards, a much-relieved Hone returned and all except Nan headed out to the squad car. Burty seemed to know the place where the body had been found, for he managed to twist in and out of streets until the car was parked just a hundred metres from the mud pool.
Everything was as Matt had left it, with the skull still staring up at anyone who looked into the hole.
‘Looks like he’s dead all right,’ said Burty with a laugh.
Lew and Hone didn’t respond. They stood by the hole, looking down at the skull. ‘Do you think it’s a burial ground?’ asked Hone.
‘Hard to tell,’ Lew replied, leaning over to pick up the handcuffs. ‘It’s unlikely though, if he was wearing these.’ He held them out for the others to see. ‘I can’t imagine the handcuffs being left on for a formal burial.’
‘They can date the death, though,’ said Burty. ‘They’re just like those old pillar lock ones we’ve got on display at the station. They haven’t been used since the eighteen hundreds.’
‘Is that a key sticking out of the lock?’ asked Hone.
Lew studied it closer. ‘No! It’s a lock pick. He must’ve been trying to undo it when he died.’
Burty stepped into the hole and picked up the two bones that had been through the cuff. ‘Radius and ulna,’ he said, knowingly. ‘If these were through the cuff then he definitely was wearing it.’
‘What do you make of it?’ asked Hone.
‘Craarrk!’ said the heron.
They all laughed. ‘Precisely,’ said Burty.
Hone looked up and smiled. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said. ‘I should’ve known that somehow you’d have something to do with this.’
‘Craarrk!’ Old Tani replied.
Lew walked off towards the mud pool. ‘I reckon this thing might have done it. What do you think?’ The others joined him. ‘What if he’d escaped somehow and then sat down here to take the cuffs off and this thing exploded all over him?’
‘What about all the metal that’s still under the tree?’ asked Matt.
‘Maybe it was stuff he was carrying,’ suggested Hone.
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ said Burty. ‘And that’s to bring in forensics. They’ll soon tell whether it was an accident or not.’
‘If they can get the skeleton out from under the roots.’
‘That’s their worry, not ours.’ Burty turned to Hone and Matt. ‘We’re going to have to seal this scene off.
But to Matt it certainly wasn’t ‘nuttin’, it was ‘sumtin’. He’d been ridiculed and Jackson had started it. He’d spent the morning trying to help the kid and this was the thanks he got. Well, as far as he was concerned, Jackson Peters, or Juzza, or whatever other stupid name he wanted to call himself could get lost. He wanted nothing more to do with him.
The police arrived half an hour after Matt made the telephone call. He’d discussed the whole thing with Nan, and she’d agreed that he had to call them. She also agreed that it was best to leave Jackson out of it, if that’s what he wanted.
The two policemen introduced themselves as Constables Burton Smith and Lewis Morunga, but called each other Burty and Lew. To Matt, they seemed like a couple of OK guys. In between firing questions, Burty noisily filled himself up with Nan’s baking while Lew stuck to the coffee. The strain on Burty’s uniform suggested that eating was a popular pastime: his stab-resistant vest looked more like a corset than body armour. Lew Morunga was smaller, both in bulk and height. In between sips of coffee, he wrote notes in a patrol book which he’d covered with koru-patterned doodles; he let his pakeha partner do most of the talking.
Matt had just got to the bit where he’d discovered the skull when Hone arrived home.
He rushed into the kitchen. ‘What’s happened? Why are the police here?’
Nan quickly took his arm and guided him back out thedoor. ‘It’s nothing to worry about, dear. If you just come out here, I’ll tell you all about it…’
Soon afterwards, a much-relieved Hone returned and all except Nan headed out to the squad car. Burty seemed to know the place where the body had been found, for he managed to twist in and out of streets until the car was parked just a hundred metres from the mud pool.
Everything was as Matt had left it, with the skull still staring up at anyone who looked into the hole.
‘Looks like he’s dead all right,’ said Burty with a laugh.
Lew and Hone didn’t respond. They stood by the hole, looking down at the skull. ‘Do you think it’s a burial ground?’ asked Hone.
‘Hard to tell,’ Lew replied, leaning over to pick up the handcuffs. ‘It’s unlikely though, if he was wearing these.’ He held them out for the others to see. ‘I can’t imagine the handcuffs being left on for a formal burial.’
‘They can date the death, though,’ said Burty. ‘They’re just like those old pillar lock ones we’ve got on display at the station. They haven’t been used since the eighteen hundreds.’
‘Is that a key sticking out of the lock?’ asked Hone.
Lew studied it closer. ‘No! It’s a lock pick. He must’ve been trying to undo it when he died.’
Burty stepped into the hole and picked up the two bones that had been through the cuff. ‘Radius and ulna,’ he said, knowingly. ‘If these were through the cuff then he definitely was wearing it.’
‘What do you make of it?’ asked Hone.
‘Craarrk!’ said the heron.
They all laughed. ‘Precisely,’ said Burty.
Hone looked up and smiled. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said. ‘I should’ve known that somehow you’d have something to do with this.’
‘Craarrk!’ Old Tani replied.
Lew walked off towards the mud pool. ‘I reckon this thing might have done it. What do you think?’ The others joined him. ‘What if he’d escaped somehow and then sat down here to take the cuffs off and this thing exploded all over him?’
‘What about all the metal that’s still under the tree?’ asked Matt.
‘Maybe it was stuff he was carrying,’ suggested Hone.
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ said Burty. ‘And that’s to bring in forensics. They’ll soon tell whether it was an accident or not.’
‘If they can get the skeleton out from under the roots.’
‘That’s their worry, not ours.’ Burty turned to Hone and Matt. ‘We’re going to have to seal this scene off.
Similar Books
