"Told you so," Audrey whispered but not soft enough to escape Karla's ears. "I reckon it'll be two hours of homework from now on."
Karla caught her eyes. "At the very least, Audrey but it means you'll pass English this year, doesn't it?"
Audrey flushed. "Yes Karla. So Clive isn't returning?"
"Not at the moment so you'll all have me for English as well as geography and history if you take those subjects." She cast her eyes around the room. "Distant learning too. So we all have a month of hard work ahead, have we not?"
"Yes Karla," they muttered and glanced at each other before settling down in what turned out to be a valuable hour on a creative language theme.
Period 2 was with the seniors taking NCEA Level 2 or 3 history. Rita, Hamish and the other fifteen were now all dressed in mufti of warm tops and longs with a couple of girls wearing long skirts and tights. They took Karla in their stride and were really self-motivated and almost akin to university students.
After morning interval, the younger Year 9 and 10s arrived with Coira looking almost nervous as she joined her classmates in a discussion on the value of poetry in modern society. Karla was strict on this age group but had no problems or even the apathetic mumbles expected.
The afternoon consisted of one free period and at two, the Year 11s returned for geography. A little after three she walked in the staffroom to see that the grinning staff had already made her coffee and a muffin sat on a plate for her, too.
"How was it doing real work?" Deanne asked with a smirk across her face.
"Not bad," Karla replied. "They're bigger than the little bodies I'm used to teaching but underneath they're still kids." She turned to Elena. "How did your little ones go?"
"I'm exhausted but it was fun."
"And your position?" she asked Brandi.
"Different," the new acting principal replied. "I never stopped. The trouble was everyone wanted to speak to you. Most accepted that you were teaching the seniors and weren't available. However, will you please phone...."
She sounded quite tired but as Karla told her, the first day of the new term was always like a baptism of fire. Four parents of senior school pupils phoned that evening, three with positive reports from their children and one to complain that her son had too much homework.
"Not bad odds," Ryan said after the last call. "But how long are you going to do it, anyway?"
Karla shrugged. "I'm not sure. We're trying to get a secondary teacher here but it is difficult to get an experienced person to come this far out. Perhaps the mobile reserve in Dunedin might be able to help." She grinned. "I left it to Brandi to do."
"Lazy!"
"No delegation of duty." She picked up Alexis and said what a wonderful dragon picture she had drawn at Little Hands that day.
So began the final term of the year at Tuckett Area School.
TWO WEEKS SLIPPED BY and as usual after dropping the bus off at Tuckett Garage, Ryan spent a couple of hours at home catching up with his business stuff, had a quick lunch for Karla usually never came home at that time, and returned to his computer. There was something about the school system that still worried him. Sure, he had overridden the original firewalls and set up the new more sophisticated ones that stopped all unwanted sites but when he switched on his computer, sometimes there were a couple of flickers or a slow page opening. He knew it was more than just the software. What if something else caused this to happen?
Deep in thought, he tried several checks and in doing so, brought up the old PTA account and frowned. It should have been frozen and isolated from all but this computer and Karla's monitor at school. He had even excluded the main office monitor and it could be accessed only with a new password that was pretty foolproof. It looked the same with the balance unchanged from when he had found the original withdrawals. He was about to close the page when one small item caught his eye. Across the bottom was a line of data that listed the times the page was opened that month with a number listing the twenty-four hour time, day, month and year in ten digits without any gaps. Without studying them they could easily be ignored, which was exactly what he had done the last few times he had checked the site. According to these numbers, the page had been opened fourteen times that month. He had checked it no more than three times so how come there was that discrepancy? The dates showed almost daily access at the beginning of the month but only a few in the last two weeks and they were all in the evening usually after ten at night.
"Don Trow!" he gasped to himself. But how!
Half an hour later after running all the checks he could think of, he found nothing unusual so it mustn't be the software. He decided to check it out at school.
Brandi was in the principal's office on her computer and looked up as he walked in. "Hi there, Ryan," she said. "Just getting used to all the returns and suchlike. Karla is along in Room 7 but she's taking a class at the moment."
"No, I'm checking out the school computers. Can I check this one out or shall I come back later?"
Brandi smiled. "No, I've finished using it for now so I'll leave you to it."
The corner of the office behind the computer was an untidy conglomeration of wires and plugs with three leads coming in through wall-plug connections. He frowned for as well as these, there were two wires that came out through holes drilled in the wall. He followed the wires back to the computer and found them linked to the input and output sockets through 'T' connections, thereby making a second source available. But where did they come from behind the wall?
Roxanne's answer to his query helped. "Last year when we were a having teething trouble with the new computers we had bought, a couple of service guys got up in the ceiling and fiddled around. They also took up a couple of boxes of what looked like new equipment." She grimaced. "Charged the school a small fortune but whatever they did, fixed everything until you came along and found that PTA account."
"I see, so where's the access?"
"That back storage room beyond the staff toilets. Apparently there's a floor up there and skylights. The board added them and were going to build a pull-down ladder in the corridor. However, with all the empty rooms in the old school it wasn't needed so except for some old historical logbooks and documents, there is nothing there. If you want to go up, ask Brody for a stepladder."
Brody said it was natural light up there and there were also lights with a switch to the right of the opened trapdoor. Ryan climbed up and found the interior stretched out across the whole administration block. He hoisted himself up and swore to himself.
In the centre of the area was a satellite disk that was smaller in size to the one on the school roof that received commercial television. It was pointed towards two opaque skylight panels that together with two on the other side, replaced the rest of the roofing iron. He had once wondered why the skylights were built on the shady side of the roof but had dismissed them as merely being there to balance those on the northern side. Perhaps it was the opposite and the ones facing south were installed to stop interference to the disk. He also saw that it wasn't a satellite disk at all but a transmitter to send and receive signals across town. Don Trow's schoolhouse was a kilometre away in the southern part of Tuckett and in exactly the direction the disk pointed. So he still had access to the casino and possibly other sites that were not on the school computer? Could he also have been crafty and skilful enough to link back to show an unaltered PTA account when all the time he was still withdrawing money from it?
"Well two can play this game," he muttered to himself but decided ask about it before he just disconnected everything.
A call to Sonya conformed that as far as she knew, the board had not sanctioned its installation and added that there had been a huge computer cost overrun that the Ministry of Education had queried.
"One of our many problems before Karla and yourself arrived," she added. "Want me to check with Adrian. He's got oversight of the school electronic system."
"There's no urgency. I just thought that if it wa
sn't official gear, I'd unplug it. I think the PTA account is still being accessed and wouldn't be surprised if more money is still being syphoned off."
"But we check the account regularly."
"Yes but do we see just the same one, not an updated one from the bank? It wouldn't be hard to fake an account."
"But Don wasn't that much of a computer buff. It actually took years before he'd let the children use iPads and such for their school work. I doubt if he'd have the skill to do anything like that." She stopped talking and Ryan heard her mutter. "Oh my God. Perhaps..."
"What is it, Sonya?"
"It could be Landon. I wouldn't put it past him."
"Who's Landon?"
"Don's nineteen-year-old son. He was at this school until the end of last year and went onto Otago University this year. I heard he went a bit wild and isn't doing very well. Mind you, he was a bit that way all the time, you know the youngest out of four, spoilt rotten and his father thinks the sun shines out of him. He could be home on study leave. Don and Stella are now at their summer cottage up in the Marlborough Sounds but their schoolhouse here still has all their furniture and stuff in it. Want me to phone around and check?"
"Please." Ryan had met Don Trow's wife Stella a couple of times. She was a quiet woman who was polite but never said much on those occasions. "Meanwhile, I think I'll unplug it. We can always plug it in again if we find there is a legitimate reason for it being here."
"Good idea. I'll tell Adrian. He's lives on one of the farms to the west so I doubt if he could get in today. However, I'm sure he'll be interested in seeing it. Shall I ask him to call you?"
"I'd say so. It's something the whole board should know about."
Ryan clicked off his mobile and took one more look around the transmitter and saw where it was plugged into the mains. He switched it off and returned to the principal's office where he pulled out the connections into the 'T' plug, gave Brandi a brief explanation about what had happened and walked home.
Once there, he brought up the PTA bank account and noticed that there was no flicker or delay before it came up. The reading was interesting. Instead of having money deposited, there were several quite large withdrawals to unknown places that were just listed as reference numbers. The eighty thousand dollars had gone down to thirty thousand when discovered the first time but was now only twelve. So it was still being raided? After three and just before he took the bus out he found Karla in her office and told her everything.
She looked grim. "Thanks Ryan. I'll call the bank, get an immediate freeze placed on the account and ask if they can trace where the withdrawals went. You say he has a son that Sonya thinks may be in town?"
"She didn't know but it wouldn't be hard for him to remotely access his home computer from where he lives in Dunedin. He doesn't have to be physically here at all."
"And his father is protecting him?"
"Could be. Sonya said he was spoilt rotten even when he went to school here."
"So what if it wasn't Don who spent all that money at that casino at all but his son?"
"It's an interesting theory or perhaps they were working together." Ryan grimaced. "But I'd better get the bus or I'll be late. Have a chat with Sonya."
"I will. Thanks Ryan." Karla gave him a kiss on the cheek before he hurried out.
Already, the bus pupils were lining up. Luckily the guys at the garage bought the buses up to school in the afternoon so all he had to do was start it up and get the heaters going.
COIRA BEAT HER BROTHER to the front seat across from Ryan and munched on an apple as they drove away.
"So what do you do when Karla gives you the evil eye?" she asked as they turned off the highway towards the pine plantation.
Ryan grinned. "Evil eye?"
"I reckon she can stare right into your mind. I was about to reach for my mobile when she gave it to me. Didn't say a word." Coira shrugged. "Didn't have to. The room is so damn quiet it is unnerving. Even the boys are working!"
"Except for the evil eye as you call it, how do you like her as a teacher?"
Coira shrugged. "Rather have her as principal."
Ryan grinned. "Why?"
"Having to work your butt out for two periods a day makes it exhausting and on top of that I have homework!"
"Didn't you have it before?"
"Yeah, a bit that I could whip up. Now we have wiggles to fix." She held up a page of quite neat handwriting that Ryan briefly glanced across at. Nothing was corrected on the page but in several places pencil wiggles showed in the margin.
"Oh she's crafty." Coira muttered as she placed the sheet back in its folder. "Gives these essays out just before we leave. A wiggly line means there is something wrong in that paragraph. Clive used to use a red biro to fix it for us but now we have to find and fix it ourselves."
"And learn?"
"I guess. Have to handwrite our essays too. Oh, we can make them up on a laptop but then have to copy them out."
"Mistakes and all?"
Coira grinned. "Yeah and more wriggles. Tomorrow I have to hand this essay in again with everything fixed. Old Clive always wrote Great Work or Could try harder and that was it. Karla writes something nice followed by a whole paragraph of suggestions."
"Doesn't that help explain the wriggles?"
"I guess. Better than a question mark in the margin. This happens more in social studies. It means my facts are wrong. I have to find out why." She pouted. "Damn hard work."
She lapsed into silence as Ryan pulled to the side of the road and the last children before the plantation gave a cheery 'bye and scrambled off. There were now just the Williams and Meadows left aboard. Like yesterday, there was now no Patricia waiting to escort them through as had happened up to the end of the term before.
Ryan glanced in his interior mirror. Like the other days over the previous two weeks the children just sat staring out the windows and nobody spoke as they went by the place where the abduction had taken place. Nothing happened and they all began chatting again as Ryan drove out of the plantation.
When they arrived at the last stop, Patricia came up to the driver's window. "Thanks Ryan," she said. 'Tell Karla, I've never seen Coira work so hard and she even seems to like doing homework. Hamish was never any trouble but she'd just be on her mobile or iPad unless I yelled at her." She grinned. "How's the plantation part?"
"The kids still go quiet but it's improving. You know when I drive back I still get apprehensive in there. Funny how the mind reacts."
"Me too." Patricia gave him a wave and headed back to her car where Coira was standing with her hands on her hips and a pout on her face.
Ryan waved, turned the bus around and headed home. Karla would be amused when he told her about Coira's opinion of her teaching.
CHAPTER 16
Even in the off-season, the Marlborough Sounds on the northern tip of New Zealand's South Island was a delightful place to visit. The inter-island ferries travelled the three-hour journey across Cook Strait from Wellington every few hours and the terminus at Picton catered for the passengers and freight including railway wagons that moved between the islands. At this time of the year, most travellers just drove through town to head three hundred and forty kilometres south to Christchurch or close to seven hundred kilometres to Dunedin in Otago.
For local farmers, fishermen and batch owners, local boats including water taxies were used to access the homes in the sounds. For many even on the mainland, there was no road access and the small boats provided access to town. One such cottage hugged the shore of one of the numerous bays off Queen Charlotte Sound, the main waterway that the ferries used.
There was a long jetty with a small boat tied up, a zigzag path up to a modern summer cottage built on a small section before a steep hillside covered in bush. It was a peaceful scene with a small blue and white cabin cruiser chugging along off shore.
However, in the cabin the atmosphere was anything but peaceful!
"Don't blame me," Don Trow gru
mbled at his bearded son as he stood behind the wheel in the helm. "It was you who set the whole thing up, you're the one who ran up the debts with those killer interest rates."
"Oh don't try to blame me for your betting losses, Dad," Landon Trow shouted. "I just set it all up for you. You're the one who found that casino and couldn't stop after you made a few thousand bucks. Oh no, it was just more shot to double your money again and again until there was that twenty thousand you owed. You came to me, remember and asked how to pay it off."
Don scowled. "Would have worked, too if that stupid bitch didn't arrive with an electronic whizz of a husband who bypassed your oh-so-clever firewalls and access codes to the defunct PTA account. Now you say, he turned off the links back to my place and unknown to me, your remote access to my computer at home." His face contorted in anger. "My God, I was just about killed and now you tell me you have demands for thirty thousand dollars and twenty days to pay it. We've already paid back the twenty grand plus interest. Why so much?"
"Exorbitant interest Dad," Landon flushed. "I used the site a few times, too."
"A few!" Don thundered. "What for?" He glowered. "Hardcore pornographic downloads at a guess."
Landon shrugged. "Chip off the old block, aren't I?"
"So you want me to pay off your debt and as well, I have to get a similar amount paid back into the PTA account? That'll be over sixty thousand. I haven't that sort of money."
"This property is worth close to a million. Sell it, pay off both our debts and you'll still have enough left over to buy a townhouse in the North Island where you've told me you wanted to retire."
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