I can hardly remember what actually happened last week. One of those whirlwind stretches where the only thing that remains is the blur of movement and a faint aftertaste of too many things at once. Meetings with readers, bursts of marketing, and the usual dodging of snake oil sellers now dressed as book promoters. But amid all that noise, something quiet and insistent broke through.

A story began to move again.

The fourth book in the Pekka Wall series—tentatively titled The Marae Murders (or perhaps The Māori Murders, we’ll see)—found its rhythm last week. The larger arc has always been there, written into the series' DNA since the first drafts. I’ve always known where each book would lead. But the real excitement begins when the characters decide they’ve got their own agenda. That’s when the surprises start.

That’s when Wiremu returned.

Yes, that Wiremu. From The Birthmark Murders. He walked straight out of memory and into the sun-drenched Wellington Waterfront. Pekka didn’t expect him. Neither did I.

And it shook us both.

I won’t spoil what happens, but let’s just say the meeting isn’t sentimental. For Pekka, it’s painful—a confrontation with grief, but also with the kind of systemic racism that smiles politely and apologetically while quietly doing damage. The kind that New Zealand often denies, even as it leaves scars.

What took me off guard was how forcefully Wiremu stepped into the spotlight. Not just a returning character, but a reshaper of the entire narrative. His presence injected the story with a fierce urgency—his voice rang clear, and it refused to be backgrounded. Suddenly, the book wasn’t just a mystery. It became a human reckoning. And Wiremu brought with him a depth of cultural interplay that Pekka could no longer ignore.

Unexpected research from a workshop at the Police College

Looking back, I realise it might be that my three days at the Police College's Victim Support Training workshop a few years ago had a deeper impact on me than I thought. The program that local trailblazer Judy Simpson created began to echo in my head while Wiremu’s character took shape. What I witnessed at the Police College was quietly transformative. I can't express enough my gratitude to Judy for allowing me to be a fly on the wall as she ran those powerful sessions for new police recruits. Her work stayed with me, and perhaps Wiremu is one way that influence now finds its voice.

Wiremu didn’t stay on the page.

He came into my dreams. He joined my morning walks around Lower Hutt—those bitterly cold spring mornings that Wellington pretends will soon warm up, but doesn’t. The wind bites hard, and the sea air slices straight through you. But I kept walking, fast enough to keep the blood pumping, fast enough to keep up with the characters speaking in my head. When the weather won't warm your bones, the only option is to warm your heart with a good story and press on.

And Wiremu? He didn’t just unlock the stuck plot points—he forced a raw, unexpected dialogue between Finnish and Māori cultures, something politically incorrect, uncomfortable, and utterly human. Not a message, but a confrontation. Not a lesson, but a truth.

Some readers won’t like it. And that’s all right.

This book won’t land gently for everyone. It might ruffle feathers, raise questions, or draw fire from cultural nitpickers. But Wiremu’s story deserves the light. I owe it to him to let him speak—even if it means weathering a storm or two.

So the fourth Pekka Wall novel is shaping into something unexpected. Familiar faces return. New ones steal the scene. And Wiremu? He’s no longer a supporting character. He’s the cold gust that rattles your bones—and the warm breath that keeps the story alive.

I can't wait for you to meet him again.

Janus Lucky
www.januslucky.com

Get The Birthmark Murders from below:

👉 Amazon
👉 Apple Books
👉 Books.by – for those who like things a bit more indie

And local Schrödinger’s Books In Petone is selling my book both on-site and by mail across New Zealand.

and of course, Kobo.