Purification

Chapter 2
Interrogation

Chapter Description: Back at the police station Detective Newcomb tries to get some info out of witnesses

In this chapter I attempt to write a little South Auckland dialect. If you want to know what the accent actually sounds like try Youtube for clips on the TV show Bro Town, NZ’s answer to Family Guy and South Park. Oh and ’eh’ is pronounced like the letter ’a’ and is said more often by Kiwis than Canadians. P is the Kiwi name for Meth.

II

The Counties Manukau District police station in Papatoetoe was always busy around midnight, and tonight was no exception. A queue of burglars, drunks and brawlers were awaiting booking and the officers on duty were doing their best to get their details and get them into a cell. Detective Newcomb was used to working in a noisy office though, and he barely noticed the din. He’d sent the letter to Auckland Central to be dusted for fingerprints and now he was busy reading through statements given to the first responding officers. At the desk beside him Graham was fruitlessly trying to glean some information from the victim’s mother.

“Valea good boy!” the large Polynesian woman repeated for umpteenth time to the exasperated detective.

“Yes, yes, you’ve said that Mrs. Puloku. But please, what was your son doing tonight?”

The woman simply shook her head and made as though she did not understand. Scott figured it was likely she had a very poor understanding of English, Samoan being her native tongue. But she probably understood more than she was letting on. Scott looked up from the statements and noticed that Mrs. Puloku has brought two little children with her. A little girl who couldn’t have been more than five and a boy of nine or ten. They could have been her children, her grandchildren, or extended family. Scott needed parental permission to talk with the youngsters, but Mrs. Puloku was busy with Graham so he decided a little chat couldn’t hurt.

The boy looked like a typical Otara kid. He was skinny with dark brown skin and despite the cold autumn night temperatures he wore a small stained t-shirt. His track pants looked like he’d grown out of them a year ago, the cuffs not reaching his ankle. The dirty soles of his bare feet brushed back and forth on the cold linoleum floor as he swung his legs idly and yawned, clearly bored. Scott walked past the boy and through the station, ignoring the yells of drunks and petty thieves as he made his way to the vending machine. A moment later he returned to where the children were seated with a Coke in his hand.

Scott leaned over and offered the fizzy drink to the boy. “You thirsty mate?”

The boy’s eyes lit up and he snatched the Coke from his hand. “Oh yeah, I’m thirsty as, eh bro!” the boy declared in a thick South Auckland twang.

Scott watched the boy eagerly downing the Coke and waited till the boy had to pause for a breath. “I’m Detective Newcomb, what’s your name?”

Between gulps the boy replied, “Sione.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Sione. How old are you?”

“I’ll be ten next month, eh. How old a’ you mistah?”

Scott chuckled, “Too old. Say now Sione, do you mind if I ask you a couple questions about tonight?”

“You can do what you like, eh mistah. You’re a coppah,” the cheeky boy replied, grinning.

Scott looked over to make sure Mrs. Puloku was still engrossed in her interrogation. The Samoan community, especially those in Otara, were particularly tight-lipped when it came to cops. Even more so when it came to cops and their kids. Seeing that the mum was distracted, he proceeded. “So Sione, did you see what happened to Valea?” Scott asked, not having any time to beat around the bush.

Sione nodded, “He got stupid eh. Mum said he was stupid before too, mistah. Cause he did P.”

Scott nodded. “Yes your mum is very right, doing drugs is very stupid.”

“I’d nevah do that shit bro! I’m not dumb like Valea!”

“Good on you mate,” Scott declared, glad to see the boy smiling at the praise. “You know when I was your age I had a big brother who used to get in all sorts of trouble. He’d steal cars and take them for joyrides and he’d smoke cigarettes. And you know what I used to do?”

“What?”

“I used to follow him around sometimes and sneak on him. Sometimes I’d dob him in to mum to get back at him for picking on me. You ever tag along with Valea?”

Sione looked embarrassed at this question. “I’d nevah dob in my brothah eh!” he declared indignantly.

“Of course not!” Scott assured the boy. “What I mean is, someone hurt Valea really bad today. And my job is to catch that person. So what I want to know is, did you see your brother doing anything unusual today? I really don’t care about anything bad Valea has done and I promise we won’t tell your mum if you’ve been naughty either.”

Sione looked sceptical but after a long pause he nodded. “Valea did somethin’ funny today. He mostly goes to Oscar’s flat to get his dope. But today I guess Oscar wasn’t keen. I dunno, but I reckon Oscar was all out or somethin’, ?cause Valea had to go somewhere else for the shit. He got it an’ all, but he said he had to go all the way to K Road for it.”

“K Road? You’re sure that’s what he said?”

Sione nodded vigorously, looking excited to be helping with a real police investigation. “Uh huh, I’m sure that’s what he said mistah. Thing is I was ridin’ my bike when he came home. I got this flash bike now mistah! I was doin’ this cool as trick and...”

“I’m sure it was brilliant Sione, but what were you saying about when he came home?”

“Oh yeah. Well there was this car cruisin’ by real slow an’ there was some Palangi guy drivin’ it.”

Scott’s eyes widened immediately. Palangi was the Samoan word for white person. A white guy apparently cruising slowly past the victim’s home was exactly what he was hoping for. “What kind of car was it Sione?”

The boy shrugged. “I dunno, a normal one. Nothin’ flash.”

“What colour was it?”

Sione thought a moment then said, “White, I think.”

“Was it new?”

“Um, I dunno, maybe. Not real new anyway.”

“The driver, do you remember what he looked like at all?”

“He was Palangi,” Sione repeated, shrugging.

Scott could see this was all he was going to get out of the boy. To a young Samoan kid a Palangi was a Palangi, they all looked the same. He was about to thank Sione for his help when the little girl beside him, who had been quiet as a church-mouse the whole time suddenly piped up. “I saw da Pay-Lungee in da backya’d.”

Scott was shocked. Was it possible the little girl had actually seen the perpetrator? “When did you see him sweetie?”

“It was night, I woked up and I looked out da window an’ dere he was.”

“Do you remember what he looked like?”

The little girl nodded slyly, smiling. “I can ?membah lots a stuff!”

“That’s great dear, but what about the man. Can you help me? Can you tell me what he looked like?”

“He was big and skinny like Sione. He had yellow hair. He was runnin’ real fast!”

Scott knew this was as good a description as he could hope for from a little girl. At least he now knew his suspect was a blonde white man who drove a white car. Scott thanked the two children and told Graham to let the mum go so they could get some sleep. Seeing that it was past 1AM Scott decided that was a good idea for him as well. Hopefully things would be clearer in the morning.