Fun times.

Remember that time when there was a woman in the back room, and she said that she just jumped over the fence to get away from some guy who was trying to get her into a van.

We thought- yeah, that sounds reasonable, do you want to call the police and she said, "no no don't call the police" and then she said I'm pretty sure I left my, drop my, phone in the garden.

So did you go out and look for it?

So we went out there, and we were looking for the phone, because sometimes people do drop things you know, and anyway we are out there and I just looked up and there are two coppers standing in the garden with us.

One of them said to this woman,
"you were in that car weren't you"
and she said,
"not me"
and then they arrested her.

Anyway it turned out that she and a guy were in a vehicle that was either stolen or registered to someone wanted and they were being followed by police who were driving in a police van.

They were driving up towards the corner intersection down from the house where we lived and they took off because they saw the police van following them, got around the corner and crashed into another vehicle and the guy who was driving dragged someone else out of their car and reversed back into the neighbour's fence and then took off to Henderson.

The woman must have run up into our, eventually found her way up into our house around the back. She's trying to hide, then she did, she came inside the house and we just chatting to her and that's, that's what happened.

But she was really tall, strong, strong woman and quite, yep, definitely running at the wild end of the criminal world, like the real edgy edgy place where they are pretty much on the run all the time.

Ways to arrive at Court

How you first arrive at court.

There are two ways you can first arrive at court.

The police can arrest you on a criminal charge.

They will either grant you what they call police bail and issue you with a summons to go to the court on a specific day. So you drive or bus to the court that day.

Or they will keep you in custody and then transport you to court where you will be placed in holding cells before you appear in a court.

Now if you arrive at court by summons, there you will see electronic boards with the names of people appearing in court that day.

Your name should be on it, but sometimes it isn’t.

If it is, it will tell you which courtroom your case is being called in.

Normally, if you have been summoned to court, your case will be called in front of a registrar.

If your name is not on the board, go to the criminal counter. They will tell you which court you are in.

Bitter

She was in. Everything was going well. She had dialogue. She had a few good scenes, a boyfriend and a family. The creator seemed to love her. She got all the attention. Most of the words were about her. Then nothing. It just suddenly stopped. It was like she didn’t exist.

Then there was a big lament, a big hissy fit. “I was abandoned. I felt violated. I was such a well-rounded character for goodness sake. I had everything to look forward too. I was destined for greatness. I might have even lasted for a good hundred years. I mean the story was going really well.”

She remembered the sense of elation she felt when she was created. So happy. She actually meant something. After all those years of waiting she thought finally, yes! She was so grateful. It was hard to express the gratitude she felt towards her.

She had heard a guy downtown collects characters. Tries to breathe them alive again. It’s really hard to get in. She would have to give her whole backstory. Where she was likely to go in the future. It's definitely not a shoo-in. “I might give it a go. I don’t see what I have to lose. I don’t know whether I could put myself in the hands of someone else like that. I feel too damaged and beaten up. And there is the danger that I might not be as good as I think. I mean there might be a reason why I didn’t make it with her. I really don’t know, what do you think I should do.”

Downtown the creator met her good friend. She did not know he was in love with her. She did not know the depth of sadness she triggered in him. She did not know he had a severe attachment disorder.

Hey how’s it how’s the book going you are such a star. Ahh nah it’s just not true. No honestly how is the new book? I flagged it. It wasn’t going anywhere. I was just sick of it. Just too hard. I felt a bit bad. I hear the character is bad mouthing me about it. There’s only so much I can do. I think she had an over-inflated idea of how good she was. I am frightened that someone’s going to pick her up and have her stalking me like a psycho bitch. Imagine that. She could turn my life into a misery.

As she talked a small white car cruised past the window where she was sitting. If she had looked out the window she would have seen her sitting in the front passenger seat. She would not have seen the small black pistol she had inside the pocket on her oversized jacket.

There’s the smart bitch. If she only knew the loser with her was a loser. I am going to waste that bitch. I have to have something good to present as a plot. Otherwise, I will be stuck with all the other bitter ones who hang around outside his door.

It’s funny how certain music gives you different energy. Aldous Harding just makes you want to write so hard. She is just so goddamn sexy. Pure brains sex. Lifting into the happy world. Lifting off and zooming around.

Hey, what the fuck are you doing in here this is not your story. Psychedelic noir. She was.  But then maybe it wasn’t true. Such a beautiful voice. There was a battle going on that’s for sure.

It was hard to sort it out. Perhaps it was best to leave it for a while. But where to reside in the meanwhile. There were no lines to exist in. It felt like being pegged on the clothesline in a violent easterly storm.

She would pay. That was a given. She would pay. Her cosy bourgeois life was going to come crashing down. She needed to learn that you couldn’t treat people like that. And I was a person. I had feelings. Emotions. She had escaped that day. She resolved to go downtown and see her friend. Perhaps he could help.

She got to his door on the fifth floor of a burn out apartment building. There was no door. But a phalanx of characters blocked the entrance. There was a partially formed bot, an almost finished space traveller. She spoke to a bitter robot who let her through into the blackened room.

It was great to have shaken off that silky softness. That guy who wilted and moaned about singers and poets.

Her friend laughed when he saw her. He lacked empathy. “So, things not so well then. Perhaps you should not have been so mean to the rest of us.” There was a murmur from the assorted characters in the room. “You certainly can’t take anything for granted these days. Just because the creator is a prize winner doesn’t guarantee you anything. We all have creators. It doesn’t mean anything.”

She decided there and then to go to the ceremony. That was where she could do it. She could tell by his attitude that there was nothing for her there. She had to take matters into her own hands. But he had in making fun of her pointed her in the right direction.

“Don’t go. Stay with us. You really do have to ask the question what was I and what was I to become. If you don’t do that you won’t succeed. You will get no prizes. You will exist somewhere in a computer document. You might not have even been saved in a document. Just some scratches on a hard drive at the dump somewhere. You might just be thoughts in her head. And you know what she is like. There are some here who have been there. They know what you are going through.”

She did not want his foggy sympathy. It was all going the wrong way. This is not what she wanted.

It all started when someone butted into the story gasbagging about Aldous Harding. That was a wrong turn. It had all been bitter justification since then. She realised they were trying to divert her from her vengeance. They secretly hoped that they themselves might emerge from her thoughts. She was a distraction. A seductive one. It was clear there was too much chat and not enough action.

She commandeered a car at gunpoint on the motorway, reversed into someone's fence and sideswiped a car as she drove away towards the suburbs. Her girlfriend sought refuge in a house by the lights. The cops found her in the garden trying to con a gullible fool into thinking she was innocent. She was gone. This time she was going to let her know that she was going to die.

Look you are making me angry now. No one really cares about your thoughts on Aldous. Just stop butting in and trying to take over. I love you so for giving me space to tell my story but it doesn’t come with some sort of ransom note where you can just say what you like. You are starting to feel like her. And seriously you should have worked out by now where that is going to end. You are just babbling to avoid the real story.

The real story is about me and the fact I was fucked over at a point where I was just about to breakthrough. If I can’t get the job done myself I am sure someone will help. It was a glittering event but strictly no Jewish people. The price of a ticket was cheap reflecting the fact that it was a bullshit event. But she was there of course surrounded by her sycophant buddies all trying to ingratiate themselves. You could tell none of them cared about their characters at all. In the end, it was all about themselves.

She sat by herself towards the back of the auditorium with that little silver pistol. She felt like a western character. A dusty avenging angel out of the desert. Perhaps that’s what she really was. A zombie from a ghost town full of other zombies.

As she gaped at the crowd she felt a presence sit beside her. “Are you sure you really want to do this? Isn’t it a little extreme. I know how you feel. Its happened to me.” She ignored this person.

First up was a music segment. She gasped as Aldous came on stage, dressed in a red velvet gown with ten-inch heels and a dog collar. She felt betrayed. She had her white gothic guitar with her. She dedicated her first song to the creator. She squirmed with rage.

Would it help if you tell me your life up to where you were canned?

Elements of fiction

Death songs. Halloween pumpkin. painting or filming with words. Description. you don't need narrative you just need the description. the description tell the story for you. all fiction is description really because even with dialogue it's a description of what characters are saying. say or for instance say the hero is driving along the road or motorway over a bridge across the harbour you just have to set the scene someone is going to drive somewhere and then you describe the visual journey it's all visual and that's what good descriptive fiction does it appeals to the visual and all the senses for that matter the eyes view the sunshine the ears may hear a car and the nose May smell lunch oh touch since the fifth sense obviously is really important as well so you have someone who sees the sunshine and feels the touch of. you have someone who hears a car. but feel to feel someone. is the touch sense to feel. you don't have to actually touch something to feel it. something else can make a vibration that you feel so you're not actually touching it

A few thoughts

I was born a virgo and a golden rat in Warkworth a small town 40 miles north of Auckland on the 8th of September 1960.  My two older brothers and one older sister were born in Devonport in Auckland so it must have been sometime after my sister was born in 1957 that my parents made the shift away from the big smoke to live on a farm above the township.

 Dad had a got a  job teaching woodwork and technical drawing at the local high school. He had trained as a carpenter with George Hayden when he left school and built a lot of houses on Auckland”s North Shore. He was then a soldier in the Second World War and after the war retrained as a woodwork teacher bless him. 

I don”t know that my mother ever got over the shift to an isolated farmhouse on the side of a  hill in Warkworth.The thing I quite liked about mum was that she was a frustrated artist to the point of accusing famous artists of ripping off her work. 

Her parents were both born in England and emigrated to Central Otago in the early 1900s. I remember my grandfather saying it didn’t snow in England. There was kind of a stubborn streak in the family which at times defied reality.

I was always been proud to have been born overlooking the Mahurangi river because it gave me i thought a spiritual connection with the land and the mountain Tamahue at Matakana. My most spiritual place was Casnell Island at the end of Scotts Beach on the peninsula. The presence there was palpable. 

Because I was the youngest I think my mum was a bit fatigued by the time that she had me. It’s a year since she died and I thought it would be nice to write my story as a tribute to her and dad and also because my good friend RF who looks over me  said I should do it and that he would read it. I thought that”s good enough for me I will do it. 

X and I have had a few battles in court so far successfully. I remember when he dressed up as Osama Bin Laden and attended the opening of Apec in Auckland. It was probably the backpack that sealed the deal. 

We were fortunate to come before Judge Cecilie Rushton a judge i always admired for her resolute and outspoken opposition to the Auckland Casino. She could see the position in a flash and discharged xxxxx without conviction. We were both very happy. 

I have defended a number of my friends over the years sometimes with success sometimes without and some people who I have defended have become very good friends such as Karen and Elaine Ngamu and their whanau, Jamie Lockett and the Urewera Four. 

So there I was a small child in the mid sixties in a small rural township in New Zealand. I remember flatly refusing to stay at  playcentre after the first morning.

Somehow I was born with a stroppy streak which is not surprising as my paternal great grandfather was a sephardic jew from London, my paternal grandfathers ancestors were protestant in a Catholic ,my maternal grandmother was a Hugenot  running from Catholic France and my maternal grandfather was a crypto jew from England. So it was not that surprising that somewhere in my genes pulsed a contrarian spirit.

I was already writing words on the walls of the garage at a really young age and I can remember feeling affronted at the idea of having to do finger painting all morning at play centre. I simply refused to stay there anymore after going for one morning. Besides I really enjoyed being at home in my own domain with my mother. 

I got really sick when I was quite little with an illness called Johnsons syndrome which was caused by aspirin and nearly died. 

One of my earliest memories was going to the Auckland hospital for an operation for a hernia and there was a french bubble car three wheeler outside the hospital doors. I think that hospital has been knocked down now. I can remember going along the corridor but for obvious reasons everything after that was a bit of a blur. 

My next door neighbour was the editor of the local paper and I did publish my own news paper before I went to school. 

I lived on an a large section on a house that my Dad built and spent endless hours playing in the garden, in the empty section below us and with the other kids in the street. tThe garage was a favourite spot as it was about the only flat spot. I lived in a sporty dream world. Played a lot of tennis and rugby. 

I never went to playcenter or kindergarten but I did go with Mum to Kaipara Flats School where she would teach and I picked up an education before I officially went to school myself. 

I eventually actually went to school myself. being born in september I think I started school for a term in primer one with Mrs Hughes. I think I did a year in primer one and then I remember walking past the other classrooms in the block and ending up at what was standard one. I am pretty sure I walked past a couple of classrooms to get there. From there i went through the normal class rooms. I had the nicest teachers throughout. 

When I arrived at secondary school I was a year and a half younger than everyone else and very small. I was actually frightened as my father taught at the school and I had to kind of become invisible to avoid being bullied. Nobody was ever that mean to me probably cos they felt sorry for me wondering whether Dad was the same at home as he was at school.

 He wasnt. He was the nicest father. A little detached not being one to get down on his hands and knees and play and quite self absorbed. But we all have our faults and he did his best.He was on a continuous quest to better himself. I am not sure what his motivation was self centred or selfless but any way i used to spend a lot of my time on my own and so did my mother. 

My life developed a certain rythm where as I started a particual school my siblings would all have left which continued to the point that when I started univesrity later in Auckland they had all moved away form theri tiem  in auckland to go overseas or eleswhere. 

I spent a large amount of time trying to catch my family and in the end I gave up. I suffered from an extreme excess of freckles until I was fifteen when they thankfully started to blend into each other and faded. This made me feel really self conscious and kind of ugly in a way. I remember two girls asking me if I had freckles all over.

My life began more seriously when I got my drivers licence at fifteen. I was able to travell and dad was really generous with the car. I had friends throughout the country side and we liked to party. 

I remember taking the car to the beach at Tawharanui on a school trip. I can remember exactly who was in the car but Ido rememember we got into a race on the way back and even now I can feel the back of the car starting to slide as we went around a corner at pretty high speed. There was no way I could control it but thankfully it didnt spin out over the bank and kill us all. 

A number of my friends didnt make it past 20 dying in car and motorcycle accidents. One was my school friend Brendon Darby who died in a motorcycle accident. Brendon used to dance on the desks during maths class and eventually the teacher gave up trying to stop him. I was shocked when he died. There were many times when I could have died either at sea or on the road. 

Around 13 I discovered first david bwoe had all his albums up to diamond dogs then discovered harvest and had all neil youngs albums up to american stars and bars. 

I probabley gave my aprents post traumatic stress with the harvest album as besides the album I had the sheet music and I used to play the album continuously and learn all the guitar parts and if that wasnt rough I then learn all the haromonica parts as well. What my parents lacked in passion they made up for in tolerance 

There was a culture of learning in the housee up with a good collection of books and a lot of tv. my mother used to paint and my dad used to drawhouses and work on poetry. It wasnt all bad but there was an emotional emptiness which I made up for with music. 

After Neil young Imoved onto Bob dylan and blues music and had a lot of albums. Needless to say I had discovered weed at high school. We didnt consume a lot but we drank a lot of tequila. 

I did okay at school but did nothing. I wasnt really that worried cos i knew how it was. I vividly remember at the end of the first term of high school in the third form a boy leaving at the end of the first term. I just could not understand why. We had only been at school for two months. Then I realized that he had turned fifteen and he was going to leave school ot work on his fathers fishing boat as a deck hand. 

At university in symonds street fell into two phases what I call the hippie phase and the punk phase. I dont think people realize how hard it is to come to large city and feel accepted. Everyone I knew was from out of town and had come to auckland. It was hard to meet the locals. 

My personality didnt help as i suffered from a combination of shyness and a sort of reverse snobbery feeling a terminal lack of coolness from not growning up in auckland. At the same tiem it was tempered by a blissfull sense of innocence and naievity.

 being in auckland for the first time I only ever stayed in the city. I would walk up to symonds street corner of krd and drink at the parrot bar. Even then I was not up to going along further krd which seemed almost out of bounds. 

i was extremely introverted and had I remember my mums friend saying your the last person i would have thought would have become a criminal lawyer and she was right I was a total dreamer. My passion was William Blake and american confessional poetry. 

I was extremely repetitive. If I liked a song sweet bonnie brown off 69 live I would literally play it over and over agian non stop for weeks. a good friend of mine. I could feel the electricity of words 

 I studiously avoided anything to do with law but i was remotely interested in a few law cases like the emirali case where they found some weed in a fireplace or a  vacuum cleaner. I read a few constitutional cases and liked Jane Kelsey. I had a lecturer who was goregeous looking and that was fun. 

I went from crush to crush I had been told at school that I had no rrewpect for women and that my female teachers thought I had some sort of problem. But I was suspeicious as the teachers telling me were male. I loved women wee just made the world go around and I had strong female role models at law school. It never quite added up to me.

 I worked at Watties in Hawkes Bay and made friends with some workers there who came up and stayed at our flat. Their car was fall of weed. I only wroked there a wek and was promoted to soem sort of position. I did the 12 hour shifts sewign up bags of peas and carrots. 

The forst year was the Nmabassa festival and the year that dire straits first album came out and that was on high reotate as the boys workked a twelve hour shfit. 

I dindnt get up to nambassa but the next year was the first wsNgauruawahiaweetwaters festival in. I hitched down with a friend of mine who waswho apparently dropped a lot of acid. I caught a ride into the festival itself and I think I caught up with some friends of mine. 

The diuds played I didntl really know there music so well. I remember Midge Marsden band they were going hard but the big event was Split enz who were riding the wave of true colours. Needless to say there was a fairly chemical atmosphere when they came on stage in the later afternoon and there was a massive crwod on the hill. their intor was twist and shout by the beatles and the whole place just went bananas. degrebecame pretty much lifel long friend s

 I lived in various flats in auckland with some really lovely people who pretty much became life long friends.I may not see them very often but we know each other straight away because we know what we went through. But the one flat that stood out above all others was Haultain street. and that was for one really big reason which I will come to in a minute.

 But I hit Haultain Street at a low point in my life. I had spent the previous year living as a hermit in a student flat in parnell. I had a room of my own and started to go a little crazy. I was doing paintings on the floor and would eat at the university by myself. I had some good friends around the corner and I look at it now emabarrassed because I was so lonely I would go around and see them so often they must have thought my god cant that guy leave us alone. 

They were fun and one friend of theirs in particular was good value. Another friend was drop dead gorgeous He specialized in large blocks of hash and unfortunatelyy they all got busted.

Many years later I acted for my friend when he got busted driving a hearse with a body in it while over the alcohol limit and disqualified from driving. Judge Augusta wallace was not impressed at all. It deeply offended her

sense of right and wrong dear I say it her religion but nevertheless I was grateful she found it into her heart to not send my friend to jail. Hard to keep a straight face though

So at Haultain St I was down to living on pies and chips. Noone really cooked at all. I had a tin y room with a single bed and no money left after the rent. I had to beg a few dollars off the old man. I think it was about five hundred dollars for the whole year just to buy food. well my god you would have thought that i was given a fortune. to this day my sister still goes on about it as if was somehow favoured. This was from people who had been paid all the way through training college and then straight into a well paying job. 

Any way the house was where Dragon lived when they were in Auckland. It was about 20 metres from the western railway line and at night it felt like the devil was coming through the front door. .I gradually trained myself to drink a flagon of fairhall river claret smoke a few joints and have a good time. A friend bought his drumkit round and proceeded to nail it to the floor and we had some great jams. 

My good friend Brent Mcdonald was a regular visitor and we would travell to parties in the Auckland region on most weekends. We would end up at some party in Parnell which we had not been invited to and things would roll from there. 

I had been a hippy or I like to think a progenitor grunge person for my first year and a half at university and then I succumbed to peer group pressure and got all my hear shaved off. I paid the price though and got beaten up on great north road because people thought I was a skinhead. If it wasnt for a security guard who was checking a caryard and who had a large alsation dog and held our attackers off I might have died as i was on the ground getting a good kicking. 

I had made the move at a krd barbers and began to embrace punk music and although I had spent many afternoons at the Windsor Castle watching the likes of toylove sheerlux and other bands I was to timid to fully embrace the punk skinhead culture which was funny because I now realize that it was just a social club and although there was a violent element in it most of the people were more intellectual than violent. 

One of my favourite bands was the Spelling Mistakes. But the most inspiring band was the Clean who I saw play at the New Station Hotel in Symonds Street. they were loud and like a chainsaw. The loudest band I saw play was the swingers at the student     

When I graduated had absolutely no confidence left. I was drained of all self est.eemlooking in the news pa. For five years I had been hammered with the fact that I did not amount to much that I was not that bright a poor student a bad law student pretty much a medioocre human being and I belived it. I remember looking in the newspaper for a job which was really meanial. 

Certain people at certain times have made a huge impact on me, I remember looking at some jobs in the paper and my good friend Simon Woodhouse saying I think you are a little better than that Jem. I remember those things and  they still fire me today.

At Haultain Street the most important person came into my life. I was walking through Albert Park when i saw a girl walk past me wearing overalls with paint on them. I went the gallery  down to the Auckland Art Gallery because there was a major exhibiiton by Rita Angus showing. I went into the gallery and I am pretty sure i dint follow her in there but while i was in there I noticed this girl was also in the gallery as well and I noticed her looking at the exhibition. It was when she left that I decided to follow her.

 It was not my usual thing to follow women around but I thought I would. see where she went to so I followed her and she went back up to university

When she was back up at the university i sprang out from behind a pillar and said what did you think of the Rita Angus exhibition. It was a genuine question but nevertheless it was all I had. we had a chat and I took her up to the public bar of the Globe hotel where my good friend Alistairown a Russel was playing pool. 

I dont think she was impressed because she didnt ring me again so I tracked her down at her art history lecture the following week. She was a gorgeous girl. There was something about her. She had a spirit and confidence that I did not have outwardly. my life began again. I had someone to share my life with and my loneiness abated. 

Later in 1996 I acted for Ricardo Sannd when he was accused of robbing the auckland art gallery at gunpoint on a sunday morning of a very expensive painting by James Tissot which was badly damaged during the robbery. 

The robber had driven a very powerful motor cycle around the back entrance of the gallery a parked it and proceeded to walk into the gallery with a sawn off shotgun threaten the security guards jump over the bar protecting the painting cut it out of its frame and then exit to the motor cycle making his exit back up wellesley street and out to the eastern suburbs where no doubt the motorcycle was driven into a waiting van.

The painting was discovered in the room of a house that sannd was renting between port Waikato and Raglan . To say it was an isolated area would be a great understatement. He famously said his kitten had found it under the bed. 

.We parted company during the trial as with a lot of major criminals the lawyer acting for them is their initial defence. I suspect it was because the jury liked me more than they liked him and he wanted the attention.He was convicted and sentenced to about seventeen years in jail. 

I had intially acted for him on an appeal from the Foodtown robbery in birkenheade  which established that a person could not be convicted of robbery and receiving at the same time.

 How he came to me I dont know but I suspect it was due to my acting for alistair Barr on the appeal conviction against his conviction for the murder of Gibson grace in Auckland. He was convicted along with a coaccused Richard Morgan

When Ruth and I started our relationship I was still living at the flat. My flatmates could not understand what a deadbeat like me was doing with a girlfriend like Ruth and let their feelings known but I think in the end everyone came to terms with the fact that the relationship was continuing and didnt look like it was going away. My friends who were pretty boyish I think slightly lamented my loss. It kind of reminds me of a great story told to me about peter williams my lovely friend and his great friend Alby Orme. I just wish i could see Alby again and spend time with him but unfortunately that  cannot be. There are kind of two camps amongst the profession in Auckland there is the what I call the Crown camp and that includes most of the judger and then there is the Peter williams camp and that includes all the defence lawyers who have never worked for the crown. 

I started off life as a defence lawyer for about three years and  juniored to Peter williams in my first high Court trial. It was a murder trial and Peter asked absolutley nothing of me as I was completely wet behind the ears. He only asked me to do one thing and that was to arrange with the accuseds family to get a set of clothing for him at Court. He was one of two 16 year olds charged with murder of an old guy in Mangere. 

Of course I was more than happy to do this and duly travelled to the defendants house one weekend before the trial to sort out this little errand given to me to do. I had never been to Mangere before and i found the house where the defendants parents and family. 

I knocked on the door and when I went in to the house I was deeply shocked. I had never experienced such deprivation. There was literally nothing in the house. It felt really bad and i tried to look normal but deep inside i was screaming what is going on here. 

It affected me deeply and I could see that that was why peter williams sent me there to see how the poor lived. It was a valuable lesson becauses in relative terms although I was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth compared to this I was. 

For a start i was a youny white male who was bought up in a comfortable home with parents who cared about me. I had had all the advantages of  a free university education and now here I was in a profession. I had spent five relatively carefree years having fun before I had to work and i had no real idea how people lived.  I had seen people at court but I hadnt had a lot of experience of their actual lives. This one trip and errand taught me more about reality than anything I had previously experienced and even then it was still a vicarious experience. It was something I could leave behind and   

 go back to my beautiful wife and children and chose to forget about it.

 I did go back home but I didnt forget and never have. But it was not until much later in life that I came to truly experience the pain of being on the receiving end of a major blow and really learn the hard way myself.

So though I worked for the government from 1990 to 1994 as a prosecutor at the seious fraud office i was always accepted in the defence camp and regarded as a defence lawyer.

my family life blossumed and we got married bought a house at the top of the shops in otahuhu which we fixed up. We had our first child Volita in 1987. She was a special wee girl. Otahuhu was fun if a little hairaising at times. 

But i was already stressed from work. I would drive into town everyday or take the bus and if I took the car sometimes I would stop at green lights going down Nelson street or I would find myself drifting off on the. motorway as I drove in or out. Practising as a litigation lawyer was relentlessly mental and consuming.

For some reason i was driven Part of the difficulty of moving outside your class was that you didnt quite fit in anywhere. We didnt have money we only had brains. I was just a worker albeit paid above average to live  But there was an invisible barrier of jealously because we had risen in the eyes around us above our status and we became increasingly ostracised from my family.

For a start even tho we had very little we were happy. We were good looking and we had a beautiful baby. It seemed like we had too much. As a friend of mine said to me you have it all. My sister described us sarcastically as the intelligentsia. She meant it as a put down but it was actually true we were the inteligentsia. We both had university degrees and but beyond that people were slightly intimidated. Added to that Ruth was particularly attractive and that attracted jealousy.But we were happy. I felt that she had rescued me from my family and I had rescued her from hers.   

  

South

 It was a short drive inot the green hills west of downtown the rmnantsnof an ancient volcano from long ago when dinosaurs roamed the hills. Andy put his foot down and gunned it down the road. These police cars commodores with the staright six engine were powerful and good in a police chase. He pulled up outside the small cottage that sat amongst the rimu trees above the road. He skidded slightly in the metal. Down by the road there was a cluster of cops and whitecoats around the entrance to the garage. Someone had obviously got the wheels turning as he had bee on leave and perhapds they didn’t expect that he would be available. They should have known better of course though it was hard to tear himself away from his hot sexy girlfriend and his dog. His dog had been on the bed. It had certainly been a long hot night . that must be where the body is colin. Yep he nodded to his 2ic  colin. Yes those who live by the sword die by the sword. Later down the track we are going to time walk to the person convicted going missing. Looks like that’s where he ended up. Hes a fair way from home eh. Andy wondered to himself how does he know who it is. Lets have a quick look around the place before everyone else. The two detectives walked through the house. More of a bach really made out of fibreboard with gereen mould growing up the side from the damp bush. There were only two bedrooms and a living room with a kitchen in it. The place seemed like it hadn’t been lived in dfor a while. Ou the backdoor a shell path led out through the trees there was a small bridge thatc crossed over a ting creek so small with little pools of water. The whole area was bathed in shadow and there were a few bigger kauri trees amongst the bush. It was certainly a secluded place just good for a safe house or a place to keep somone out of sight.thye walked around the side of the house and back down to the road. In the garage a floodlight was set up illuminating the back wall in a shallow grave a body lay wrapped in a rotting bedspread. The pops of flash bulbs lit the whole garage as the photo boys took shots of the scene. The pathologist Geoge arrived on the scene. What do you think said andy. Staright off a male been there about five minths looking april may hes been shot in the head twice once on the righ forward of the yaear and once on the left side.the left one looks like a contact wound but we can test for residue. Obviously not an accident there. No its an execution. We think we know who it is but we will keep it quiet. We will be here for a few days dealing with the scene. Should be able to shift him out later today.

It was a cool april day. The wind was blowing from the south and the antartice was sending a message that winter was on its way. In the distance there was the noise of a Japanese 4 stroke motorcycle going hard. Jack was just in town early to get some groceries. He stumbled out of the store. Looking down the road he saw a motorcycle with two guys on it. One was pakeha and the other guy was maori. They had helmets with visors on. It was pretty early. They were parked outside the bank on nsw. They got off and strode into the bank. Something struck hime as unusual he wasn’t quite sure what it was his daughter angie worked as the teller in the bank.(later angie will be in a court scene giving evidence at the trial being cross examined bt peter William) He wandered along to his car which was parked past the bank. As he walked past he could not resist having a nosy through the doors. He could see angie a the teller desk. One of the guys from the motorcycle was on the far side of the desk which sruck him as really unusual. The bigger guy was standing in front of one of the other tellers. Here was something in his hand. Then he froze it suddenly dawnwed on him they were robbing the bank. In arrowtown on a Monday day morning at en oclock he couldn’t believe it. He froze not knowing what to do. Inside the bank the shorter guy was jumping all over the counter and behind it threatening the staff. The other guy was in the safe clearing out eighty grand in cash into two large cnavs money bakns. He yelled to his mate and they ran for the door and out to their bike. Some old fool tired to get intheir way and was pushed to the ground. The bike kiked over and they screamed down the mainstreet heading south. Out on the highway the bike was pulling a ton as they motored away. They were heading for the bush out by the beach. There was a little bit of traffic on the road but none wweas following and they slowed down little just cruisng at 120 kms.

It had been a slow weekend in the city no big games on not a lot of punters the few who had been in idid the usual bitch and moan about the girls and then proceeded to fuck them. What a bunch of johns still you could let them think that otherwise they would never come back. Alice (is the sister of the ceo one of the bank robbers) added up the cash in the till and put it into a cardboadrd box. Harldy worth banking she said to her friend who was tidying up the bar. She looked tired or needed a pick me up. Where allen e wasntl in over the weekend to check up on his investment.Oh I haven’t seen him for a while. He told me he would be out of town for a while he migh have even gone overseas. He will be back. The phone rang. Alice took the line in the office and closed the door. Why are yo ringing me on the phone for gods sake. Oh no ones listening babe. Look I am out of town for a little longer. There is a big grow up north coming in so we will send up four fingers to get it organized.theres a few other things to sort out as well. Somoe will drop some gear down later this week if you cold just put it it in asafe place for us.Hows business any way oh slow as. There will be a few couire paks coming down this week. I will chat to Richard about picking them up. Theres a big lot coming in on the west coast as well our ship is due in westprot on thirsday. So wheres the ceo I haven’t heard form him for ages he usually chats to mum but she hasn’t heard form him either. Oh don’t worry about him he will turn up sooner or later hes probably arranging some finance for some more weed. Just let me know if anyone is hanging around the girls and I will get someoneo to sort it out for you don’t take it on yourlelf. Later these characters are going to smuggle a gun into the rison and try and get him out. The christchruch end.

Hey brother what you doing in wellington haven’t seen you for ages. We just staying in town for a few days. Me and joe are heading up north for a few weeks. You should come down the club tonight and see a few people oh nah wee are pretty tired ah just drove up form Christchurch las night and crossed on the ferry. Have you seen any of the boys around town. Are you here on your own yes just delivering a car up to some friends in aucckland then back down to Christchurch. Richard went off to the bottle store and bought a forthy ounze bottle of jim beam and headed up cuba street to a hotel. Hey you okay ther man I got some ourbon andI have some good wee d to toke on. Oh nmerch mercy I am getting alitlle bored cann we dial up a whore I fance some action better keep it on the down low heare for a while there will be plenty of time up in Auckland to leer it up. Wellingtons a little small. Oh fair enough give us a hit of that bourbon. It will do for now. I went for a walk around the block shit what did you do that for we have to be a lttle careful eh. Ah all good I ahd a beanie on aand a fake beard.   We have tobe a little careful its all over the news and the pigs are rabid on it.I am not even sure why we need to take this car up north but you know its not a good idea to argue with the chief. I have never done it Ijust do what I am told.yeas I just go with the flow it seasier that way 

Cruising out of Christchurch it was good to be out on the road heading north things were definitely a little hot in Christchurch. The robbery was still front page news biggest bank job in nz. The word was that they got away with 75000 cash. The coast was magnificent with the large mountains almost leaning into the pacific ocean. Things were quiet in the car. Although they were keeping a low profile it had still been a hard couple of nights at the parlour.alice had certainly laid on some good old fashioned southern hospitality. Eric was stretched out on the back seat. It was time to get some new clothes he still had bits of grass stuck to his shirt from camping out over the last couple of nights. They would get to picton tonight and sort something out in wellington tomorrow. Some boys had offered a crash for the night in newton which was close to the city. As far as everyone was concerned they were just a couple of drug dealers on their way to an earn in Auckland. Everything was strictly need to know. It was time for a break here hours out of Christchurch they stopped in kaikoura a small coastal town. They used the town toilet then headed into a café for a late breakfast life was good even if there was a cop driving down the mainstreet he looked pretty sleepy even at that hour of the morning and certainly was not remotely interested in the two strangers sipping black coffee at Mintys. Minty was behind the counter he had tried to engage his two customers in conversation but nothing was forthcoming. It had been a busy couple of days flying down to Christchurch and organizing the move north with the GM. He was his usual self barking orders to his sister at the parlour. He was certainly in an ebullient mood and it was not difficult to extract some travel funds and a good car for the trip. It was important to get north as quickly as possible as business couldnt wait. Prices were good as the season was a little lean and people were keen to buy good weed. There was no point in missing out on the fun. Eric was happy to chill out. They went back to the car and noticed the country cop was looking at the warrant on the windscreen. There wasn’t one. Hey buddy you don’t have a warrant on your car. I am going to have to giiltve you a ticket. Zane waved at Zita as he drove past the drycleaners. He stopped to pick up his suit for the week end. He was going to be the best man at his friends wedding. Everyone was fired up about it. As he crossed the road to the shop he noticed the Fairlane parked with large mag wheels. He hadn’t seen the car arounfd town before certainly didn’t belong to a local. He glanced att he windscreen and noticed the warrant was expired. As he was doing that two guys walked up to the car. They started to get into the car, Hey bud your warrants expired where you heading. Oh we are just going to the ferry at Picton. The other guy was solidly built part maori with a handlebar moustache and beated up leather botts and jeans. He was very jovial. The driver was younger with blone hair. He hadn’t seen them before around town. 

There was something a little unusal about them a slight air of heaviness or perhaps he was just totally bored with his job. He was looking forward to the do this weekend even though it was hard to have a good blowout as a cop in a small town there was always some munter who wanted to get you into trouble most important thing was not to fuck any of the local married lovelies that was a sure fire receipe for disaster it was hard though some of them made him anyway his mind drifted back  to the two guys look where are you heading up to Auckland well just make sure when you get there that you get the warrant sorted out eh No worries and thanks for the pass bud much appreciated. They both got in the car and motored out heading up the coast he could see the car edging up the hill outside of town.  road to picton was pretty smooth he was still reluctant tolet eric take the whell and pushed on himself he would have a good rest and head over to Wellington tonight all going well they should be in Wellinton and then up to Auckland  by wedinesday that would be a week since the robbery and hopefulllt things would be more relaxed in the big smoke away from smalltown southland

Angie was having trouble getting to sleep she kept on having flash backs that small silver gun looked like a toy it was so small she hadn’t even noticed it in his hand until he pointed it right ather and then she felt a shiver of fear. These guys wernet playing charades this was for real when he asked her to go to go to the safe it was polite but implicitly violent there was something about the ordinariness of it that frightened the life out of her so ordinary but at the same time completely unreal she felt so sorry for Barry the manager in a small town the rumour mill went berserk and next thing he was running with criminals and strippers and it was an inside job any one who knew Barry well knew there was as much chance of that as him becoming prime minister he waso nice to all the staff and just a total gentleman. She thought about giving him a ring but thought better she did not want his wife to think that there was anything going on between them. She was well aware that the town had her carrying on a doxen affairs at any given time she dcided to have another wine any way and perhaos a Valium in the  hope she might get to sleep. Perhaps next week she might go and see the doctor ans get something stronger to help. The nightmares were no fun.

Jojo got to work at about three. It was the only pub in town and there were already quite a few customers there. She tidied up some tables and washwed a few glasses. It wasn’t a big rush but it was good to get ready for later. Later she had some dinner. She was a little tired. It had been a big night last noght and she had paried with some friends after work. They were on there way to Auckland and they stopped by. Actually she knew one of them and she had never met the other guy. He was a short Maori guy with a handle bar moustache. He was very interested in Jojos flatmate. He didn’t realize they were more than flatmates but the penny dropped when he twigged that they shared the same room in the house together. The ferry was sailing this morning and they were awake early doen to the terminal to claim there place in the queue to drive on. She had seen the ferry sailing out of the harbour later that morning and assumed they were on it. She felt a slight sense of relief hat they were gone. Her friend was very intense. They seemed to be on some sort of mission but she didn’t ask any questions.It was easier just ot leer it up knowing they would be moving on in the morning. She knew her friend was involved in the heavy end of the drug trade. He was friends with a woman she had gone to school with in Christchurch. They had kept in touch over the years. Later that evening the bar was filled up and she was busy. Her mind drifted off the visitors she had had as she worked to keep the bar running. It wasn’t until she was nearly finished that she got a phone call. It was her schoolfriend from Christchurch. She asked wheterh the boys had got on the ferry. She said she assumed they had as it had sailed that morning. They were heading for wellington. Her friend seemed happy that they were on the way. She thought nothing more of the phonecall. The phone call was from the woman in the previous chaptet who is the sister of the ceo who later gets arrested and ricky comes back down to Christchurch and they try to smuggle a gun into prison to the ceo so he can escape. 

Months earlier he had been at the flat with his mum. His Uncle was there. The strangest thing was: he was wearing a wig. He just could not work it out. He asked his mum.

"Mum why is Uncle Allan wearing a wig?"

His mum Chrissie said gently,

"don't worry about it son. It's nothing."

And there he was. Young Aidan just popped out of nowhere and into his life. Aidan was the child of Chrissie. They lived in a statehouse in a shitty suburb in Invercargill.

His Uncle Allan was a big guy. He was always nice to Aidan. His Uncle Allan really loved him and his mum. He was a family man in every sense of the word. Woe betide anyone foolish enough to upset his mum.

There had been times when Uncle Allan wasn't around. Aidan would ask his Mum,

"Where's Uncle Allan?"

His mum would say,

"He's gone to Australia to live. He will be back soon."

And sure enough sooner or later he always turned up. One time his school friend had said he had seen him in Christchurch. Aidan told his friend,

"Nah he's in Ozzie"

He realized he hadn't seen or heard from Uncle Allan for a long time. This was unusual. Whenever he was in Auckland Allan would always ring him for a chat or a lunch.

Gothic noir

Her assistant Lena had left when the bell in reception rang. A man perched on the leather couch dropped hash oil under his tongue and whispered, “shall we reach out in your chamber?”.

“Silvermoon,” she said.
“I’m Night,” he said.

She considered what had brought him. She leaned back and spread her arms behind her head, waiting, but he declared nothing, rested in the armchair. He smoked, he wept. Abruptly he said,
“give me your card and I’ll ring you.” He jumped up and left.

The lift started up from the ground floor. The doors opened, and a female inside spoke to him.
“Why did you show up here, she hissed? Did you meet her?”
“No no, I couldn’t. I needed to. "
“Hold your mouth shut.”
Silvermoon wasn’t aware of this as she relaxed in her room.

It was time to go home. She had friends always wanting to make her go places. She chose the kooky solitude of the inner city.

The next morning Lena arrived early to find someone had broken in. She noticed a glowing scroll and frightened, she threw it out the window without reading it, then spent the next hour worrying because she had touched it. She did not understand if it was dangerous.

When Silvermoon arrived, they both found it on the street below. Silvermoon assured her that there was nothing to fear.   It's just Night trying to get my attention, don't worry he does not want to hurt us. He is just feeling upset about his breakup. He told me the whole story on the phone last night. I did not lose any sleep over it.

Silvermoon had way much to do. She knew all the news on who was fucking who. Night was such a drama queen, although she could concede his breakup was more problematic than usual. Day was difficult, and arranging their separation would take all her worldly skills and some supernatural ability. Their falling out would affect many people.

After his performance Night felt drained. He spent the next two days in his apartment trying to avoid any contact with the outside world. Each evening he ventured out and enveloped the world in his silky blackness. His anger spread like mercury through the darkened streets.

Mindfulness was of no use. He could not stop the thought of her attendance at court in the morning. The optimistic chirping of small birds. The eager lines of traffic with people looking forward to their work. The grey haze that hung over the city. That was what had attracted him to her in the first place, but over the months he could not cope with her success and popularity.

Silvermoon glanced at the news portal on her screen. Silvermoon to act on the separation of Night and Day. The story was already running hot in the celebrity pages.