Fernando expression was uncertain as he struggled to decide which option gave him the earliest departure time. It was a gamble – anything could happen to tomorrow’s flight. He remembered Frank’s warning with foreboding and shook his head.
“Not good. It too uncertain for me. I need certainty so I wait. I come back every hour.”
CHAPTER 50
Pania was running late. She’d almost had an accident on the way to the airport and she was still shaky. It had happened so quickly. The car had come from nowhere, hadn’t given way and it was only her quick reflexes that had saved her from a crumpled bonnet and whiplash. As she’d sat, the operatic screech of her tires echoing in her ears, the culprits had vanished. She’d driven more slowly after that no longer worrying about being late.
She had a full day ahead and was not looking forward to facing George. She checked the arrivals board. Damn it! George’s flight hadn’t arrived and the arrival time was blank. As she stared up Pania suddenly noticed that there was no departure time either. She hurried to the information kiosk.
“We’re sorry ma-am. That flight is still on the ground. There is some sort of mechanical failure which is being investigated. There’s an indefinite delay and I can’t tell you when it’s expected to take off or arrive in Wellington.”
“Oh dear, today of all days!” The man nodded in agreement. Pania hardly noticed. She was already rearranging her day. She had so much else to do. No point in hanging around. George could wait, she decided. “Thanks.”
She spun around and pushed her way through the crowd. A flight attendant crossed her path. Pania looked at her twice. She’d seen that distinctive face recently. The dark hair dipped into a perfect widow’s peak emphasising a heart shaped face. It was the same girl, the one in the photo attachments. Pania’s heart leapt into her throat and instinctively she stretched her hand out to touch the woman’s arm. She looked up impatiently. Her eyes were wide, brown with a distinctive patch of green.
“Excuse me” she protested.
Pania flashed her badge, her face suddenly grim. She spoke with authority.
“This won’t take a minute. I’m Detective Inspector Morrison. Let’s sit down over there, out of this scrum.”
The woman looked around nervously but there was no escape. Pania was taller and more athletic. She allowed herself to be led to a table and sat down. Her eyes flashed angrily at Pania, then she dropped them and began to inspect her manicured hands and red-black lacquered nails. Pania sat opposite and took out her smartphone. She retrieved her emails and opened the attachments.
“Do you recognise these?” she asked as she held the screen in front of the woman’s face.
The woman stared and a guilty flush travelled up her neck and coloured her face. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as it formed a perfect circle.
“That’s you isn’t it?” Pania jabbed at the screen with her index finger.
The woman nodded her eyes glued to the screen.
“Tell me about it!” she ordered. The woman swallowed, refusing to look directly at Detective Inspector Morrison.
“Where did you get these from” she asked dully?
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is what this is about,” Pania replied firmly.
“It-it was a practical joke. I don’t take drugs, never have. We staged it. My um friend um wanted to play a trick on his roommate.” She kept her face turned down to avoid making eye contact.
“Names please!”
“Um, my friend is … was … Brady Ambler … and his room mate was … George somebody-”
“George Ritmeyer?”
Her gaze shot up, eyes widening in startled surprise. The loudspeakers crackled announcing the arrival or departure of flights. Neither woman heard or listened.
“Yes,” she nodded. “How did you know?”
“Again that doesn’t matter. Explain the practical joke.”
“Brady wanted to set George up. He was always so serious and we thought it was good for a laugh. We spiked his drink and left him in bed in a hotel room. We made it look like I’d taken an overdose. It was dead easy. George fell for it hook, line and sinker.” She laughed and the sound made Pania’s spine creep. “It wasn’t hard to fool him; he was in a blind panic. I nearly gave it all away. I had trouble keeping still and not laughing.”
“Did you tell him, later I mean, about the joke?” I bet you didn’t, thought Pania. You didn’t give a damn. No wonder George always looked as if he carried the world on his shoulder.
“What? No not me but I guess Brady probably did. Wasn’t really my joke. I just helped Brady stage it.” She shrugged indifferently and moved to stand up.
Pania grabbed her arm and she subsided back into the chair.
“Not so fast. I want your name and contact details. You’ll come with me to sign a statement confirming your story.”
“I have no intention of signing anything. It was a student prank. For God’s sake, it happened over twenty years ago. It happened in America not here. It has nothing to do with you.” She glanced at her watch.
“This is bigger than you think and,” Pania’s voice softened reassuringly, “if you’ve told me the truth you’ve nothing to be afraid of.” Abruptly the softness was replaced by unmistakable resolve. “But if I have to, I’ll arrest you. There’s a police office at the airport. It won’t take a minute and the sooner you cooperate the quicker you’ll be free to go. I’m quite prepared to call for re-enforcements. It’s up to you. Make a scene or come quietly.”
Pania stood. Again her fingers gripped the woman’s arm and now she forced her up. The metal chair scraped painfully along the floor as she reluctantly obeyed. Pania released her. Red marks blotched her ivory skin. She stood rubbing her arm, her beautiful eyes clouded. Pania observed her consternation.
“Do I need a lawyer?” she asked anxiously.
“Depends what you’ve got to hide,” Pania said shortly. “This way please.”
CHAPTER 51
Jennifer glanced out of the window. Only two cars in the driveway; it was most peculiar. Her curiosity was piqued and she determined to take a closer look. After they left she wandered down the drive to look at the parked rental. It had been somewhere muddy. She memorised its number plate, then went inside to check it against the arrival form. It did not match either registration number listed.
Shortly after the second car returned and when all was quiet Jennifer took Em for another walk, again taking note of the car number. It matched one of those on the arrival form. The comings and goings of these visitors was starting to interest her.
In the evening when Jennifer checked on the cars again both number plates matched the arrival form. It was like a game of musical cars. There were definitely three cars in play; three virtually identical SUV’s. She was not imagining it. That night she didn’t hear the third car arrive instead it was the muffled noise of activity which woke her. She checked the clock; it was three fifteen. Just then Em cried and Jennifer swung her legs out of bed. The minute her warm feet touched the cold floor she was wide awake. She fumbled for her sheepskin slippers and padded into Em’s room. Through the gap in the curtains she could see three cars parked in the next door driveway. They have no idea I’m awake, she thought as she observed the muffled goings-on. Em had settled and was back in her cot when Jennifer heard the engine start and a car drive off. She was drifting off when the second engine started and almost immediately she heard the third car leave. Maybe it was completely innocent? Maybe they went fishing at night? She’d read somewhere that fish were attracted to lights. She felt vaguely sorry for the fish just swimming around, minding their own business then seeing light. They probably think it’s the sun, if they think. She closed her eyes and lulled by the regular sound of the surf pounding the beach she dropped off.
Dr Seuss’s red and blue fish darted though her dreams crazily driving black vans and making Em cry. The morning sun shone through the curtain and Em really was crying. Bleary-eyed she p
ulled back the curtains. The two cars were back from their nighttime journey. Normally nothing happened in sleepy Rarangi, tourists rarely acted out of character and Jennifer’s life followed a regular uneventful pattern. The most exciting thing to happen was Em’s new tooth.
She wondered again what they were up to each night.
As she did the dishes Jennifer could see that the visitors seemed to be getting ready to leave. She was hanging out the washing when Maree, or was it Annie, appeared.
“Hi, here’s the key. We’re leaving early. A relative has died and we have to cut short our holiday.”
“Oh I’m sorry. Please accept my condolences for yer loss. Was it expected?”
“No. Sudden. It’s been a shock to us all. It’s a shame we have to abort our trip. We um enjoyed the house and visited quite a few of the sights described in the tourist brochures. Thanks for your help.” She looked away shuffling uneasily from leg to leg as if she couldn’t get away quick enough. She’s a cold fish, Jennifer thought, taking a dislike to her manner. Not at all upset and not at all thankful.
“My pleasure. I hope ya all have a safe trip home. I’m really sorry.” She tried to sound sympathetic. Annie-Maree turned and hurried down the path. Jennifer heard the car door slam and the engines start. She looked at the keys in her hand and shrugged. That was that. It takes all sorts, as her mother used to say.
Later that morning when Em was asleep she inspected the house. It was perfectly neat and tidy. She checked the BBQ. It too was spotless. She stripped the beds and remade them, disinfected the service rooms and vacuumed. She hummed as she worked. When she was finished and satisfied that everything was in order she would send an email to the owners to refund the bond.
In the late afternoon Jennifer took Em down to the beach for some fresh air. They both loved watching the gulls swoop and squabble. Often a man brought his small Jack Russell Fritz, down to the beach for a run. It amused Jennifer to watch the dog chasing the gulls and the waves. Em jiggled excitedly in the pushchair when she saw them coming and clapped her hands screeching in pleasure at its crazy antics. Fritz kept them entertained for quite a time and when Jennifer turned to go, a dusty black Toyota passed. The car was the same model as the rentals her visitors had hired but she was unable to see through the tinted windows. She wondered briefly who was inside then turned her attention back to Em pointing out things of interest as they made their way home.
The Toyotas were left in the Blenheim parking lot and the keys dropped into the slot. It was evening, the streets were quiet and the depot closed. They left on foot, each carrying a small overnight bag which held their last disguises. The day before they’d answered an ad in the paper and had bought a cheap crapped out car. They had paid cash and promised to register the purchase promptly. The seller was pleased to get it sold and happy with cash. He didn’t ask any questions or check their IDs. They’d left it parked nearby and barely five minutes after abandoning their rentals they left the outskirts of Blenheim behind heading to Picton. Just before Koromiko they turned onto a gravel side road, bumped over the railway line and drove until they found a turning spot. It was a dark clear night. The southerly had blown over and carried the storm clouds with it. There were no street lights, no cars and no people. They quickly assumed new identities then rejoined the main road.
In Picton they stopped briefly beside roadside bins and dumped their discarded clothes at several locations before splitting up. By 10 p. m. Jeremy and Amanda were lined up with the other foot passengers waiting to board the inter-island ferry. Keeping to their instructions, they found seats in the forward lounge. When they arrived in Wellington, Jeremy’s motorbike was parked ready and they disappeared north into the night. The next day they went with their children on a school trip to Rotorua.
According to the tickets Kim Murray and Dan Ryan drove onto the 10:25 ferry that night and drove off the ferry at Wellington at 1:35 the next morning. They spent the voyage in the movie theatre. In the frosty early morning hours before sunrise, there was no-one to see them leave the main highway or bump down the rough track. No-one watched as they jumped into a waiting vehicle, rejoined the main highway and continued northwards. Many months later, a burnt out car body was found abandoned on a rarely used dirt track off the desert road. There were many similar wrecks tucked away on the desolate flats and nothing unusual about this wreck except that its identification marks pointed back to Blenheim and the registered owner was dismayed to find that the ownership papers had not been filed.
CHAPTER 52
Pania picked up the phone on the third ring. The familiar greeting made her smile.
“Hey Pania of the reef, keeping busy?”
“Always. Have you caught any big fish recently? What’s new Tom?”
“Not much but it’s another piece in our puzzle. Remember we had evidence of drugs arriving here from a new source? Now we know how they’re coming in.”
“Congratulations - good policing by your guys.”
“Thanks but it wasn’t us. We had a lucky break or at least Border Control did. I’ll send you the report.”
“Thanks that’ll be cool. I presume you’ve apprehended the culprits?”
“No, at least not all but we’re talking to some locals. There are still large gaps but I’ll keep you posted.”
Pania hung up. Too many loose ends, she thought feeling discouraged. Anyway, she consoled herself, it was unlikely to be relevant. She stood up and fetched herself a cup of coffee from the machine. When she returned the promised email had arrived. As she sipped her long black she read how a routine surveillance flight east of The Bay of Islands had detected suspicious activity. Pania twisted a strand of hair absentmindedly around her finger, pondering the mystery yacht and its crew. Surely they’d seen the Orion? Why didn’t they abort their activity? She skimmed through the report till she got to the part about the pickup boat, the arrest and interrogation by MAF.
The whole operation was wrapped in secrecy. None of the crew knew where their orders came from or what they had in their package. They obeyed without questioning and they were well paid. That afternoon they had been alerted to expect a delivery and to be ready to intercept it at sea. Out fishing they waited for their GPS unit to activate and once their equipment locked onto the signal, they changed course. They had no difficulty finding the container. They disabled the GPS unit, opened, emptied and sunk the metal box. They never looked up and were unaware that they had been observed. The throb of the boat’s engine probably masked the sound of the Orion overhead and their full attention concentrated on a quick and efficient recovery. None of the detainees admitted to being involved in any earlier recoveries but a sample of the drugs was taken and tested. Its DNA signature matched the earlier example obtained by Bruno and, added Pania to herself, it matched the samples in Brady’s briefcases. An investigation of their bank account records revealed a number of large deposits. It could be safely assumed that this was not their first assignment. The men now faced further intensive questioning. Pania doubted that they would talk. Not in time anyway but she was convinced that it was no coincidence.
She wished that they’d been able to apprehend the drop-off yacht but according to the report it had disappeared into the vast anonymity of the Pacific Ocean. It was a slick operation, Pania conceded, well organised and executed, but was it relevant to the Forum? She shook her head and stared at her screen.
CHAPTER 53
George was strangely lightheaded as the aircraft finally touched down on the Wellington tarmac. Diego had ignored him from the moment he’d woken. He’d put on his headset and kept his eyes on the screen avoiding George’s glances. Probably nursing a massive hangover, he thought and wondered if he remembered anything of their conversation. As they left the aircraft, the delegates were redirected for separate processing. George followed the crowd.
As he walked through into the customs area he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrored glass. He stopped short and felt his confidence ebb. His trou
sers had lost their crisply pressed line. He could see the sag where his knees had stretched the fabric. That wasn’t the worst. His suit looked as if he’d slept in it. The jacket had lost body and drooped forlornly from his shoulders. He looked down and noticed that he’d spilt something, yogurt perhaps, on his tie. He hoped Pania wouldn’t notice. He eyed his reflection. He looked no different from normal. Maybe it was just as well given the emails that were circulating. It was a foolish buy. He should have chosen another fabric. Linen had failed the twenty-four hour wear test. Nothing you can do now, said the voice in his head.
A Mãori welcome party swayed and sang just inside the exit. The poi’s flashed in tight circles, forwards, backwards spinning almost as fast as light. George watched briefly. His thoughts had been spinning like that all flight and now they were leaden and exhausted. His feet felt heavy with dread as he exited into the arrival hall.
He scanned the room looking for Pania. There was no sign of her and his heart sank. She’s late, he told himself and then he noticed his name. There was no reception committee and the short man holding the board couldn’t be an undercover agent. George made his way over and introduced himself.
“I’m George Ritmeyer.” He took another quick look around. “I was expecting someone else.”
“Good morning Sir. I’ve been asked to meet you and drive you to your meeting. Detective Inspector Morrison asked me to explain that the delay in your flight has played havoc with her arrangements. She hopes you will accept her apologies.”
George’s frown deepened. He nodded. He had no option but to follow the man to his taxi. The excuse was reasonable but he still he was suspicious. The thought crossed his mind that maybe this was part of Brady’s schemes. As he got into the car the driver handed him an envelope. He recognised Pania’s writing. At least, he thought with a grateful sigh, he knew now that Pania had ordered the car and not Brady.