odd time. Five-thirty at first, and around seven last night. Not in the dead of night, like you’d think. Seems to be going on some sort of Mount Zion timetable, that women will be cooking dinner at that time, doing the washing-up. Makes me wonder if he’s just trying to get Frankie outside to talk to him, because he’s so sure she’ll go back to him. Bound for Hell if she doesn’t, is the idea. He’ll get her out there by scaring her, or even smoking her out, which is an odd idea, but he’s clearly mad as a meat axe. Could be he wants Daisy, too. Maybe all three of them, but that kind of bloke … I’m thinking it’s the wives he wants. That he wants to take Frankie back.” And, I didn’t say, to hurt Daisy.
“They were both married to him?” Luke said. “And he was violent? That’s not good. The most dangerous time for a woman is after she’s left. That’s what I hear, anyway. And the second sister to run, the second wife, was helped on her way by the first? Not good.” Saying exactly what I’d been feeling, which wasn’t exactly comforting.
“No,” I said. “It’s not. If you could hang around a bit, maybe, around that time of day, in case he’s cruising the neighborhood, maybe thinking about trying again. Park your car out front, and make him wonder if he’s got it right after all. He’s got an old white ute, a Ford, so you may notice him. Dark hair, medium height. Sharp face, all angles, and that same kind of energy, too. Aggression, but the scared kind. Which makes me think that if he assumed some older lady lived there, and he finds out instead that it’s somebody twice his size with three times his stopping power, he may think twice.”
“Only three times?” Luke said. “Think I can do better than that. On all counts. Hayden and I are in a rental right now, looking around for the right place. We could move in until your mum’s back, if you like. Run him off, too, if I can get close enough. I’m guessing I could deliver a message.”
“I’m guessing you could. Nobody better, but the place isn’t even cleaned yet. My mum’s sending some of her crew over tomorrow to do it. She runs a staff of cleaners, so that’s convenient.”
“Easier if I do it,” Luke said. “I’ll be there, and I’m not working now anyway. Still sorting out what I want to get into next. I’m reasonably handy, and I may as well do this as anything else.”
I wanted to refuse. I didn’t. I said, “Thanks, mate.” A few more details, and I felt just absolutely bloody fine about my house, because the man who went up against Luke Armstrong was a fool.
You don’t mess with a prop, and you especially don’t mess with a world-class one. A prop’s nothing but a solid cube of muscle, all the way from his head-sized neck to his freakishly strong feet. Props don’t feel fear, and nobody’s any too sure that they’re capable of feeling pain, either.
Which would have been fine, if the girls and my mum had all been holed up in the Wanaka house, available for guarding. Since they weren’t, I made call number three, using a number I’d written down a week ago, after Daisy’s phone had got that call.
The phone rang six times and went to a voicemail that wasn’t set up yet. I rang off and tried again. And again. The fifth time, a voice answered.
“What do you want?”
No lower-register tones. His voice was all in his throat. Driven by fear, marrying small women because he was afraid of being small himself. I’d been right about that.
I said nothing.
If somebody had done that to me, I’d have rung off. He didn’t. He said again, “What do you want?”
I said, “I want you to think back to every time you laid a hand on your wives.”
“What?” he said. “Who is this?”
I said, “This is Gray Tamatoa. I’ve asked them to make a list. I told you I would. They’ve written it all down for me, so now I know what to do. You like pain. You like humiliation. I can arrange for you to get some of each. You’d better pray you never see me, but you’d better pray for more than that. You’d better pray I never see you. Because I am going to make you pay.”
“You can’t. City