2014 Year of the Horse

by Liliane Parkinson

  They reached the food, were given a plate and became absorbed in picking and choosing kai. With plates heaped full they looked around for space to sit and eat. Before long they found themselves deep in conversations with locals.

  CHAPTER 27

  Mira poked her head around the door.

  “Sleepyhead, wake up. It’s your last day and we’re going on a tramp.”

  “I’m awake. The chooks make sure of that. I feel right at home. You’d think laying an egg was very painful by the noise they make. Look I’m up!” Pania leapt out of bed with a grin and pulled open the curtains. She was looking forward to their tramp. The sky was grey with high cloud but the light was bright and the temperature pleasant. “Looks like perfect weather for some exercise.”

  An hour and a half later the cousins got out of the car in the Whirinaki Forest Park and loaded up. Ngaio was perched on Mira’s back looking out from the backpack with gurgles of delight, waving her chubby brown arms in excitement. She kept trying to pull her sun hat off but it was securely tied under her chin. Eventually she forgot it was on her head and grabbing handfuls of Mira’s hair she chattered happily. Pania’s pack was stuffed with their picnic lunch, drinks and light jackets.

  They set off side by side for the track was wide, heading for the falls where they would stop for lunch. For a time they walked in silence, entranced by the giant podocarp trees around them. Inquisitive fantails flitted above them, almost within arms reach and Ngaio followed their antics gurgling and laughing in delight. The forest calmed their spirits and gradually the steady rhythm of Mira’s steps lulled Ngaio. Her head drooped and her eyes closed.

  When they reached the falls they stopped. Pania opened her pack, spread their jackets out on the ground and they sat down. Ngaio was now awake and hungry. Mira fed her first. Pania lay back with her eyes closed and listened to the forest and the waterfall. A cool breeze carried droplets of water through the air. It was wonderfully refreshing. When Mira reached the playing with her food stage the girls tucked in.

  As they relaxed Mira quizzed Pania.

  “Have you got anyone special? Last time I heard anything about your love life, you’d just broken up with Dan.”

  “Oh Dan’s long gone. I can’t believe what I saw in him. No. There’s no-one special at the moment. My job makes it a bit difficult. I’m here, there and everywhere. That was one of the issues with Dan. He couldn’t stand not knowing where I was or who I was with.” She shrugged. “I guess he was the jealous sort and that always caused friction. I’m happier without him.”

  “Are there any possibilities in sight? Isn’t there someone you fancy?”

  “No … The only new man I’ve met is this … American. Whenever he’s in New Zealand I’m his girl Friday. Taxi driver, tourist guide, entertainer you name it that’s me. That’s been my job twice a year for the last four years. He’s a nice guy but there’s no romance. It’s all strictly business.”

  “Oh I’m intrigued. And what exactly does nice mean cuz? Tell me more. What’s his name? What’s he like?”

  “His name is George, George Ritmeyer. He’s very ordinary looking. You’d never notice him in a crowd but he’s okay. This is the last year he’ll be coming over. I guess after September I won’t see him again.”

  “So he’s ordinary? What does that mean?”

  “Um he’s about my height with mousey coloured hair, cut short and kind eyes, grey I think or maybe hazel. God Mira I don’t spend my time gawking into his eyes! He wears off-the-rack clothes, nothing colourful and kind of blends into the background so that you forget what he looks like and what he’s wearing. He could be one of the SIS guys if you know what I mean?”

  “He’s not married is he?”

  “No. I’d say not ... doesn’t look married ... never mentioned a wife or a girlfriend ... doesn’t talk about himself at all really. He told Parsons the other day that he hasn’t met Miss Right yet.”

  “So what do you like about him?”

  “I dunno ... we just get on okay and he’s interesting to talk to … he has a way of making you feel that what you have to say is worth listening to. It’s like he really pays attention, unlike some people who hardly hear a word you say because they’re so busy thinking about their next pronouncement. You know what I mean?”

  Mira nodded. Pania continued. “I had a bit of a giggle to myself, the first time we met. He’d arrived at the airport and I was standing there holding a board with his name on it. I’d been a bit annoyed to have been assigned to collect him, why me and not one of the blokes? Anyway he waltzes over and introduces himself. I suppose he’d never heard of the name Pania so when he called me Tanya I put him right. He made some lame excuse about blocked ears.

  “Then when he went to get in the car, he moved to the right and found himself on the driver’s side. That confused him! Quite took the wind out of his sails. After that it was fine. He’s good value and knows his stuff. We work well together and you’d never guess what; he’s a Tolkien fan too! He’s read the book and watched the movies more often than I have. You wouldn’t believe it, would you?” She sighed. “I probably won’t see him again after this year’s over, so it’s no use getting attached is it? I’ll probably never get to play happy families like you cuz.”

  “I suppose not seeing the guy makes it harder but distance doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Rawiri and I were living in different places after we got engaged and we managed it so I’m sure you could too if you really wanted to. Perhaps this guy’s just shy and you need to make the first move?”

  “No ... I think that would make him run a mile. No, he probably just doesn’t see me as a woman ... if you know what I mean? I’m a colleague, a work mate nothing more.” She changed the subject. “How do you like it here? I can see Rawiri is in his element but are you happy and making friends?”

  Mira refused to be sidetracked that easily. She sighed sympathetically as she considered her cousin’s dilemma.

  “Poor Pania. If you like him you should ... I dunno ... shock him into seeing your female side. You know ... helpless and vulnerable.” She laughed. “Knowing you that won’t happen.” She considered Pania’s questions. “How do I like it here? Silly question really. What’s not to like about this place? Look around. Where can you live surrounded by such natural beauty? I’m happy. Ngaio sees to that and I love Rawiri. There are plenty of things to get involved with, so much is happening and it’s exciting to be living here at this time … The women have been friendly enough but it’s hard to get close to anyone when your husband’s the Director of Schools and one of the few men earning a wage. We’ve only been here a short time. They’re waiting to see if we last or if we rush back to civilisation.” She hesitated then continued, “I am a bit worried about something. Rawiri won’t listen to me and makes excuses but I think something’s wrong somewhere.” She paused looking for the right words to explain her suspicions to Pania. “The problem as I see it … is that suddenly some people have extra money to throw around. You might not notice it in the city but here it’s conspicuous. Where before, their kids wore hand-me-downs and were always hungry, now I see the same kids in designer labels, no doubt bought in Rotorua or Auckland, and with money to spend in the school canteen. Suddenly everyone’s their friend and they’re shouting the treats.”

  Pania watched the doubts chase across Mira’s face as she tried to explain.

  “I just wonder where the money’s coming from ... it’s far too much to be coming from tourists. … I’m a silly gossip reading far too much into things, but I hope people here haven’t started dealing or home baking ... if you get my drift?”

  “Have you heard any rumours about drugs? P is a big problem around the country. Do you think it might be P production?”

  “There have been no rumours of drugs that I’ve heard and Rawiri hasn’t seen any sign of it in his schools ... the other day I overheard a conversation, but … I came in the middle of it and they shut up when they saw me nearby. It was in Mãori and
I don’t always understand the local dialect. The words are sometimes different. I thought they were talking about the old prophet Rua. I heard the words ‘chosen way’ but if they were talking religion why did they stop when I came close? It felt peculiar. I can’t put my finger on it but I’d hate all of Rawiri’s dreams to be destroyed by some drug operation. He’s so involved and so proud to be part of this … this renaissance of his people.”

  Pania had no answers and let Mira talk out her fears. In her experience the dealers in drugs were often linked into a gang and were addicts themselves. From what Mira said this seemed to be unlikely. She quizzed her further.

  “That local gang, the one Rawiri mentioned, how much effect do they have on the community?”

  “Oh they’re certainly around but it seems to me it’s more a sense of belonging that holds them together. I suppose they’re involved in petty theft and crime but it’s a pretty safe environment in Minginui. The elders keep things under control and we rarely see a Cop. Of course Cops are not welcome. The locals don’t trust them at all eh. That’s why I suggested you keep quiet about your work. You know how it is cuz?” Pania heard the unspoken apology and nodded.

  “If you hear anything else and you want me to pass on information just let me know. I can’t do anything personally as I’m no longer involved in regular police work. Perhaps Rawiri is right and there is nothing to worry about. Maybe some of the Treaty Settlement payments are disappearing into their pockets?” She shrugged. “It happens.” She looked up at the sky. The sun was on its home run and the air carried a hint of cooling. “It’s time we got moving don’t you think?”

  She pushed herself up and they packed everything away and headed for the end of the track.

  It was late afternoon when they arrived back. It had been a great outing and while Mira bathed Ngaio, Pania started to pack. Later she wandered around the garden, collected the eggs and picked some beans. Mira was right, what was there not to like? She stopped and listened as the sounds of silence settled on her, the woodwind sighs from the forest accompanying the muted pulse of rural life. It was so peaceful, hard to believe all might not be as it seemed.

  “Death Result of Routine Explosion

  Dominion Post March 2014

  At around midday yesterday on the last day of his contract, Denzil Jackson was killed during a routine explosion on the Transmission Gully project. The site has been shut down as investigators determine the sequence of events which led to this tragedy. Police, OSH and the Department of Labour are all involved in conducting an inquiry into the death. Once the inquiry has been completed, and before the site is reopened, local Mãori will perform a tapu-lifting ceremony.

  Mr Jackson was employed by A1 Blast Specialists of Knoxville Tennessee, who were contracted to manage all tasks involving explosives for the Transmission Gully project. He had many years of experience both as operator and project leader. His workmates have described Denny as meticulous in the performance of his duties, a skilled contractor and extremely safety conscious. They all trusted him with their lives and are shattered by the loss of a popular leader.

  Denny loved New Zealand and during his time in Wellington had travelled widely. He enjoyed extreme sports and he was particularly proud of his achievement in completing the South Island Coast to Coast race earlier in the year ...”

  CHAPTER 28

  Pania stirred her coffee absentmindedly as she read about the fatality in the morning paper. According to the company spokesperson, it was a deplorable accident which should never have happened and a regrettable blemish on the company’s fatality free record. Regrettable indeed! Poor guy, she thought, wonder if he’s married with kids.

  The new motorway was one of the many makeover projects scheduled for completion in time for the Forum. It was unlikely that this delay would affect the timetable significantly but that was not what tugged at her memory. Denzil Jackson, the name was somehow familiar. He’d been in the news before, she was sure of it. She logged on and keyed in the name. There were several search results both sporting and work related and she opened each one in a separate window. There was even a photograph of the deceased crossing the line in the Coast to Coast race. He was a big man, broad and tall, with a head of tightly curled close-cropped black wiry hair and she couldn’t help admiring his biceps and muscular shoulders. He was grinning at the photographer. It softened the lines in his rugged face. He was quite a hunk and Pania felt a brief stab of regret that she’d not had the chance to meet Denny. Waste of a good man, she mused and started to read.

  There was a brief report of a serious break-in at the construction site a year previously. A large consignment of explosives and detonators had been stolen and according to the reporter, the police were investigating and Denny was helping them with their enquiries. Interesting, thought Pania, It seems Denny was their prime suspect. She reread the brief coverage then logged into the police system and accessed their report. It was thorough and inconclusive. Pania read the interviews. They painted a picture of a quietly confident man; a trusted boss; a popular man not easily rattled, so well-liked that many of the workers called him bro.

  There had been an upset in the office on the afternoon of the break-in. This was confirmed by many of those interviewed, something about a missing key. Denny had kept them back late and had insisted that the office be turned upside down and that the key be found before anyone could leave. The key was finally located in a rubbish basket and they’d all been in a hurry to go home. Denny admitted that he too had been in a hurry to leave and had forgotten to set the compound alarms or to reset the surveillance system.

  That night, the locks to the storage compound were forced. A large consignment of high explosive materials and several remote detonation devices were stolen. In the morning the guard dogs woke slowly from their drug induced dreams, the theft was discovered, reported and an investigation undertaken. There was no video footage and no alarms had been triggered. Denny’s failure to complete his end-of-day security procedures was directly responsible for its success and was initially considered suspicious. Evidence to prove a link between the break-in and Denny was never found. The conclusion pointed to probable human error and until they received further evidence the inquiry was shelved.

  The loose ends bothered Pania. No-one seemed to have addressed the issue of what happened to the stolen goods or who was planning to use them. They had just disappeared. Was this a solitary incident or had there been more losses from the construction site? She scratched her head. Pity the explosives expert from Knoxville Tennessee was dead; she would have liked to ask a few questions of her own. She made a note to ring management to check out the story and satisfy herself that this had been an isolated loss.

  Denny had taken his secrets with him. He’d told no-one about that fateful day in Takaka when he’d been unexpectedly activated. It was the weekend he’d joined a group of trampers to explore the caves at the top of Takaka Hill and they had spent the day exploring the gaps and crevices stretching deep below the marble hill. He’d just returned and was sitting on the step of the backpackers’ undoing his boots when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up, caught his own reflection in the motorbike visor and heard the code words ‘ESAP ASAP’. The man abruptly turned and walked away. In shocked disbelief, Denny followed. Beside the curb the figure turned and thrust a box at Denny, his voice muffled behind the visor. Denny screwed up his eyes into the glare of the setting sun unable to see the man’s features.

  “Here’s your phone. Keep the battery charged. Check for messages. Don’t make any calls.”

  He stomped off towards the black Harley. Denny’s heartbeat cranked up. His training, long dormant, kicked in. He slipped the package into his pocket and turned back. It had all happened so quickly. He felt adrenalin surge through him, his tiredness forgotten. What would he have to do? He felt a stab of fear to think his movements were so transparent that they had been able to trace him to this remote location.

  It never crossed his
mind to question or to disobey the orders he received but his smile lost some of its spontaneity as the strain took its toll.

  CHAPTER 29

  Pania handed George the latest assessment report with a sigh.

  “It can’t be that bad,” he said.

  “No. It’s not bad, not really, but sometimes I wonder why we meet at all. We spend hours debating issues, writing reports and then it seems policy makers don’t bother to read them. Despite our recommendations, police powers have been extended over all public areas in the CBD.”

  “Surely that’s a sensible move?”

  “Not everyone thinks that. Many consider it an abuse of power. Human rights activists have been especially vociferous. We expect that this decision will result in more protest, probably timed for optimum effect.”

  “So we can expect trouble from them? Is that what you’re predicting?”

  “Um ... well ... we … that is, the organisational committee hope this will be quickly forgotten. They maintain an unchanged view that security responses must be low-key and unobtrusive. The report emphasizes that there’s no evidence that we will attract any unwanted attention from terror organisations or anyone else of consequence. Nevertheless they have drawn up contingency plans.”

  George nodded as his eyes flicked over the report. It was just as Pania had explained. The activists were deemed a nuisance not a serious threat.

  “There’s really nothing new in this report,” George grumbled. “No wonder nobody takes any notice. Maybe the powers that be have decided that the committee puts an too much of a positive spin on things? I’m inclined to take their side. Better to be safe than sorry. You know what I say-”

  “Expect the unexpected.” She laughed as she interrupted. “You’re right of course. I should be happy that we’re preparing for the worst. Let’s hope it’s unnecessary.”