the disappearance of neville

8/7/2019 The Disappearance of Neville

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The disappearance of Neville:

The last car that the man calling himself David Wenter had hired from Carson Broadway would have been found, and would have been found near the

park near the long bush-lined driveway leading up to Ivan Kepler’s house inTitirangi, had it not been for the fact that Kenny and Neville, out one drizzlySunday night stealing, had found it near that park first.

And it would have been found in better condition than it ended up inas well, not that it would ever found, anyway. That but for Kenny and

Neville then, and even then but for a high tide that night, that and but for aslight falling out amongst car thieves also.

And that, this, as Kenny and Neville, cousins only in crime thoughfrom an early age, had then, having driven the car round half that night, hadthen, somehow and with some precision as well, then managed to run thatcar out of petrol dead in the middle of the short uphill run that was all thatever separated them usually, their respective homes, wherein their respective

parents resided, not often waiting up for them, still, though, never ones,usually, to resile from giving their respective sons the odd welter or twoafter the odd lark came home to them, hence their untameable resilience

perhaps, Kenny's and Neville's.The nastiest, not the brightest of the two, Kenny, was then, all for

letting the car run down-hill backwards then. To where it would no doubtcrash, Neville pointed out to him, best he could, near where Neville’s

parent's house was located as well.‘Not a good idea,’ Neville said then, adding that, ‘It would be better,

if,' he was summoning up all the diplomatic strength with which he wassometimes able to ward off Kenny’s tendency towards actual instead of justthreatened violence, towards him (this being something he had learnt in hisearlier years, when their parents had first placed them into a cot together),'If, instead of that, we could turn it around and coast it down to the beach,leave it there...'

Kenny, wanting to be well away from all this, assented. With Neville behind the steering wheel then, Kenny then obligingly pushed and pulled thecar around until at last it was facing forwards, down hill then, ready for itsdown-hill run, down to the beach way below.

Kenny typically, Neville swore some of the way down to the beachafter that, didn’t then get in beside him. Instead he had said that he had to

get home, as did Neville as well, of course. After that, Kenny had given Neville a good push and got off.



It had taken until Neville had steered the car past his parent’s place before he stopped worrying for his own sake again, having called Kenny arat again, Kenny sensitive to that, he looked like one.

Neville then started to worry, instead, if there might be anyone else out

that moonlit night then as well. Someone that might recognise him, coasting by in a car that at some time soon would also be reported as stolen, in the Herald.

Neville put the car lights on again, got some speed up, that so it would be difficult for anyone coming up the road, walking or driving, to get a clear look in at him, or even at the car till after it was by them.

The bends then gave way to the short straights that he knew so wellenough anyway, enough not to need the lights on for, but they helped, thewipers as well, with the drizzle.

He quickly reached the beach, passing no one else on the way downthere, to French Bay. On the last bend, the one that curved right and steep tothe beach, altered since, the road below running adjacent to the curve of the

beach, he stopped.Turning the car lights off then he let his eyes adjust. There was no one

down there, not that he could see, anyway. He pulled the handbrake up, asfar as it would go. He eased himself out of the car, easing the door near closed again behind him, until the interior light went out. The ramp wasthere, below him, and directly in front of him then, the tide was in and full,as was the moon above, nearby a more-pork hooted, 'who, who?' Whew!

If it hadn’t been for Kenny leaving this to just him then, they mighthave just parked the car down there. There so that if it was still there a dayor two more, not found before then, well, they could have stolen some more

petrol and then used it again. Now, Neville got back in the car, some fun of his own then.

The interior light on, the door half-open, Neville's left foot on the

brake pedal, he shifted the car out of gear with his left hand, and thenreleased the handbrake. So intent was he on what he was doing just thenthough, that he failed to notice the car lights snaking off the trees above and

behind him.And so it happened that just as Neville's foot came off the brake pedal,

Neville intending then to step out of the car completely, to close the door then, and then to just let it go, gently into the night, tide, another car thenslammed into the back of the car that he was still, effectively, half in still.

And so the car that Neville was still half in then, well half out of if you prefer, Neville didn't, either way, then catapulted forwards, then heading



down towards the boat launching ramp, going somewhat quicker though,than Neville had just before then, been allowing for.

In no time at all, it seemed to Neville, the half-open door with Neville’s leg half in, half out of, slammed shut again, on and almost

separating Neville from the foot that he had almost just dragged back intothe car by then. And that happened just as the driver’s side of the car, thedoor Neville had been getting in and out of, and the recently trimmedPohutukawa tree, came into contact. And that point of contact, the angle,also ensured that the car’s entry onto the ramp was, as Neville had hopedand calculated for in his wildest moment so far that evening, straight andfacing forwards then, out to sea. And so the car, slushing into the water,headed straight out there then, into the night. And it would have floatedmuch longer than it did if it hadn't been but for Neville’s leg and foot still

being connected a little either side of the bottom door sill, the water seepingin there. Still the car floated a while though, out as far as the deep channelused by the shipping that wound nearby that point as well. Then the car,

Neville a faint inside, turned side on into that shipping lane, there where thecurrent was near still then due to the tide being high, just turning then. Andthen, before any of the services that turned out that night for what seemed tohave been the hard luck crash of the dead driver of a car that had crashedhead on into a Pohutukawa tree beside the boat ramp, but which had in factrolled gently head on into the tree after hitting Neville hard just before then,the car with Neville still in it then sank out of sight.

***

At about the same time as that, as Neville was drowning out there, cursingKenny out loud perhaps then as well, but quite some distance away, a darklyclad figure walked quietly onto a building site in Newmarket and in the

gloom peered over the side of a rubbish removal bin there.The person that had been placed in that bin the previous evening had

fallen spread-eagled and face up then. But this evening that person waslying face down?

A prod in the back with a piece of framing timber found near at handdidn’t rouse him though? This dark figure then clambered into the bin

behind the person there, spread its legs, then the piece of framing timber rose high in the air, came down hard on the back of that person in the bins'

head. Before it hit though, it clipped the side of the bin, and from within thatconfined space there came a very loud drumming sound. Somebody, nearby



yelled, yelled out something that ended, now that the figure could almosthear again, with some expression that sounded like ‘that racket.' A hand

placed against the side of the bin stilled the vibration. No one seemed to becoming near though, this figure breathed out again, slowly.

The person in the bin definitely wasn't breathing now. The dark cladfigure climbed out of the bin, walked quietly off the building site, back on tothe street again, and two minutes later, a further two streets away, the pieceof framing was tossed onto another building site, soon to be incorporatedinto yet another building that would leak, the door not completely shut onthat yet, the damage done thereto those trying to get a leg up that way.

***

If the car that the man calling himself David Wenter had hired that weekendhad ever been recovered, it would also have been discovered that for oncethe mileage reading was quite a bit higher than during his other hire periods.This was not just due to Kenny and Neville’s night out stealing though, butrather this was due more to David this time, who, from where he had been

parked alongside the park, again near Kepler’s long bush-lined driveway inTitirangi, had seen Joanne Kepler arrive late that damp Saturday morning,driving an old Jaguar, and he had decided then, for want of anything better to do that day, to follow her when she left there that day.

And that was in part because she was with a companion this time, onehe hadn’t seen her bring to the house before then, but one whom he didrecognise anyway.

Following that sighting David thought about trying to get closer to thehouse again then, that morning, so as to see what sort of discussion mightdevelop between those three then? So long as he could get close enoughthough, so that he could hear them, which he might not be able to do, of

course, even if he was standing in the same room?There was a track off the park that David had been using when

approaching the house, and he approached the house that way again then.This brought him, after he pushed through the stands of fern that werealways wet, the rainfall in that part of Auckland, and which then drenchedhis head and neck every time he pushed through them, out onto thedriveway again, about half way up it, to just below the bend after which thedriveway straightened out to meet the road then, that house, driveway, at the

end of that road.Making his way slowly up the driveway after that, stepping back again



and again from the driveway, in amongst the ferns, he arrived at a pointwhere he could see the man he had followed back to New Zealand again, hisvisitors as well.

This big man, this Ivan Kepler, was outside, hacking, ineffectually

seemingly, at the bracken and flax outside of the house, beside the path thattook you round the right side of the property, with a machete. Mind you, itwas a bit wet, everything was, outside here.

Wet or not there was a large building site type bin sited near the top of the long bush-lined driveway though, so he meant business then, anyway,this scrubby material destined for dropping in there then, David guessed,and then destined for some landfill nearby. Did they compost here? After that, 'Everything must be fairly rotten round here anyway...'

***

David’s first search of the house, after he had first followed Kepler there,then while Kepler had been sleeping off his jet-lag, had revealed nothing.

Nor had subsequent searches when he had been able to make them revealedanything either. It didn’t, as Kepler was home and looking like he would beworking there that day as well, look like he would be able to make one thatday after all, maybe later? And he couldn't hear a thing.

He began to think about retreating then, so as to be ready to followJoanne Kepler when she left, he should head back towards the hire car, findthat pathway again.

Going over things there had always been the possibility that IvanKepler did not know that he had carried that last passport overseas, if hehad? And there were reasons for reasoning that. For one, Kepler hadreported that someone had been in his room at that hotel in Vienna. And thenhe'd also been concerned that someone had ripped apart part of his baggage.

And so if he hadn't known he was carrying the extra passport then,then someone else, someone with whom he felt reasonably comfortable withthen, comfortable with them entering and moving about his own home bythemselves perhaps even, had probably been the one that had sewn that

passport and whatever other documents into his baggage then. And thisJoanne Kepler, his niece, she had met him at the airport on his return, sheseemed a good bet for that if that was so? Actually, the only bet so far,anyway. And this other chap, What about him as well then?

***



Although there hadn't been any especial scenario to get him going, Davidhad, so far, when he had found out where Joanne Kepler worked, set aboutseeing her about an apartment to rent then. That had seemed a worthwhile

exercise at least, to at least get started with one of them, get closer in. Hehad hoped she might be more interesting, right from the start, but so far shehadn’t been. ‘Maybe today,' he wondered then? 'You might turn out to bemore so?'

During weekdays he had been searching her flat whenever he could.Ivan's house he had been searching weekends, whenever possible then? Hehardly went out. It was a matter of hanging about then, for when?

And he had also been checking Joanne's mail whenever he could, before she collected it, her personal mail anyway. Anything, he knew, couldalso land at her office. He'd get in there sometime soon as well. Same withIvan's.

Neither of them, though, had so far taken delivery of anythinginteresting to him. And so if they were involved in anything irregular itwasn't regularly then. Still, one way or another, he would be settling thescore with someone out here. That or could end up having to come back some day, that unlikely he knew, but the thing was, you never knewsometimes did you...he knew. This West Auckland, this wet place, what didthis place have to show?

***

The assassination of their comrade, he reminded himself then, had also setmore than a few minds wondering about this country? What would thoseminds make of all this, bush? Was he close to anything, to finding outanything? Didn't seem so. Too close to the house now though, go back, he

might be noticed. He might not be able to hear much anyway, his hearingnot having been improved by that long flight out here either, the end of theworld, the bottom end. And if that flight had been anticipated then someoneelse would have been sent instead. Good job that would have been.

And the operation then, that he had been sent to Vienna for, wouldhave gone ahead, his hearing still grossly affected, three months after he haddropped that stun grenade, it had then gone off, too close, too close...

Here, in the bush of West Auckland, David still remembered the face

of the man that had held the pistol on him the whole time he had been on board that plane on the ground in Munich. He would never forget him, that



man had held a pistol at his head the whole time he had been on board that plane, except when it was time to leave. He'd been well keyed up. Then,when he was meant to leave, that man had then stood in front of him, bigmistake on his part, only a slight distance to him, there, standing to the left

of the door, the fool had half opened it then as well, had shown himself outside.Standing still, pausing on this track, on his way back to the hire car,

David could still feel it all, the ending of it in him still, that man, in front of him, this not behind him, the way the guy had stood, up to them, an amateur truly, brave still, not for talking round, that apparent to David from whenfirst he had been allowed aboard, that after the hijackers asked for sandwiches and coffee, fuel they were still asking for when he boarded, andto facilitate this, his boarding, it had been agreed that a flight of steps could

be positioned against the wing nearest the terminal. David, whoever, couldapproach the door from there. Now, again, an inner voice was telling him towithdraw.

The man in front of him, then, David had quickly come to regard astheir leader, albeit inexperienced in that role, living up to what then? Therewere three others that he could see, even more nervous than him. He hadexpected the others, soon as he had seen them, two men and the woman, tofold easier than the man in front of him. He had almost got that right, notquite, you never knew with some, the most unlikely sorts can have greatcourage, one of them did, ignored him when he had gone on board, and hehad nearly died learning that. Out of the darkness, at the rear of the plane,the others had come forward, for the coffee and sandwiches, soon after hehad unpacked them, for them, and after he had then set them out as orderedto also, onto a folded me down table.

Gathered together, in the gloom, they had then allowed themselves to become companionable again, no doubt they had been great friends. He 'd

lost one himself, he shouldn't forget.Drawn tense after having been kept waiting for him, they were now

relaxing. He was there, nothing bad had happened. There had been, for them, an understandable release of tension, nothing bad had happened yet.Yet in that respect, David had also understood why he had been invited on

board the plane, also why he had been allowed to see what he had. Theyweren't up to much. He, their leader, knew it, and he also knew what he was,so he was expendable as well. And apart from holding the sandwiches and

coffee back, which probably was in itself a bit testing, no moves had yet been made to refuel the plane.



little and lift the barrel of the pistol upwards then, and towards another'schin, the option then, some probably take it, to choose whether to let gothen, or to pull the trigger instead. This one had let go, anyway, the othersgawping, probably hoping in their hearts that this was just a little scuffle

between us, nothing very serious. No one had shot at me then, though they had livened up a bit after Ihad chucked their leader out the door, there where waiting hands grabbedhim again and then chucked him off the wing onto the tarmac, down towhere more hands were waiting, pulled back at the last moment though.

Then, the first stun grenade slipped into his palm, its chord attached toanother’s, pulled at the grenade, felt the pin pull out, and delivered it, aninswinger. Returning then, for another, his hand out again, the first nothaving burst yet, David had then been shot at from the rear of the plane.'Ah,' he could still remember thinking, 'There is another, another woman,'she was calmly taking aim again.

Hit, he had dropped numb to the floor. The more lasting injury thoughhad been to his hearing, when in trying to get out of his comrades way, thesecond grenade, the one he had dropped after he had been shot, burst under the seat that he had dragged his head on to as he felt underneath the seat for it, again and again. Wounds to his upper legs and to one forearm had ensuedthen, from the fragments of the grenades casing bursting.

He had arrived in Vienna for his last medical operation, for hishearing, they were going to implant something, only the day before he hadleft for New Zealand. There was no one else, the Major had said.

***

Previous to this trip, he was here now, it had been arranged that while hewas undergoing that last phase of his treatment, he would house-sit while he

recovered then, for another member of the unit that was going on holidaywith his wife to Northern Italy.

It was a condition of work that after any action any member couldrequest leave then, usually granted. The person that David was going tohouse-sit for was also at times a driver, David was as well, one of the fewsponsored by their Government attached by their government consulatesthere. Cosy and handy, all the team members were attached in some capacitylike that, as sponsored ancillary staff in diplomatic missions. Not too far

apart from each other, they could assemble quick smart.There were other purposes to these more normal jobs as well. For not



only were they meant to help preserve their anonymity, meant to be handy,these postings were also meant to help them preserve a feeling for everydaylife, that if at all possible. 'Some hope of that, without the odd holidaymyself,' David felt, backing through that last stand of wet fern, on his way

back to the hire car parked by the park.

***

It had been a close run thing, but the man who had booked into the samehotel earlier the same day that Ivan Kepler had arrived in Vienna, hadmanaged to retrieve what he had been looking for. Close, because when hehad heard someone at the door by which Ivan Kepler had only ten minutes

before left through, he had only then just managed to slip out again throughthe adjoining door before Kepler had re-entered his room.

The man had heard Ivan’s quiet expletive as he quietly locked thedoor, then again as he slipped out through the main door to that room. Hequickly made his way back to the room he had booked.

More importantly than that, after that, Saul Mekhon now felt morecomfortable again, now that he had the time up his sleeve that he had beenhoping he would end up with, the time that he could only end up with if only he could retrieve the passport soon enough. He had. And now with that

behind him, he now knew that had that extra time he wanted, that so that hecould ease some of the pain he worried he might not leave behind him whenhe left Vienna again, this time for good.

Painfully, he had realised that only by the example of his own life hisson Paulli had perished. From his vantage-point, from where he hadn’t beenremoved from after the plane had been stormed, he had managed to takesome photographs of some of the anti-terrorist team as they stood downthen. Posing as press he had taken photographs of some of the vehicles that

they had arrived in then as well. And unfortunate it would be for onemember of the anti-terrorist team that he had arrived at the scene in avehicle that was not only distinguishable as a diplomatic corps vehicle, butwhich also had recognisable licence plates. Probably, Saul had guessed, thisvehicle had something to do with that particular team members other dutiesthen. He was right.

Saul now knew every face on every photograph he had managed totake of them. And also by then he knew the location of the consulate that the

driver of that car had returned to after that, to his other duties, taken upagain the next day.



The action on the plane had been a disaster. His son had becomeoverconfident and had even allowed a member of the anti-terrorist unit ontothe plane. What could he have been thinking? He would never have allowedthat himself. And he would have shot the chap sooner than later as well,

only allowing him so near so as to send out a warning without having toharm any of the passengers or crew then.From his vantage-point, and through the telephoto lens of the camera,

Saul had also seen his son lying lifeless on the tarmac under the wing of the plane after it was all over. This had been very difficult for him. The othershadn’t lasted much longer either. All killed, the papers claimed, becausethey continued to resist. Sure!

One member of the anti-terrorist team had apparently been wounded?Saul hoped it had been fatal, but didn’t imagine that that would appear asnews anywhere. His son, on the other hand, had been identified as the leader of the hijackers, and photographs taken recently of all of them together, himincluded, and with their names as well, had appeared on the front pages of newspapers all over the place after that, even in the Herald. In NewZealand.

***

After the much publicised failure of the hijack, the killing of her old lover’sson, Jean Kepler had gone into shock for days on end, his name coming upagain that way. Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, that helped her to get past thatto the point, then, when she decided that she must then help Saul now if shecould. And this time he would know that she had, was helping him out, aswell.

She had reunited with him only twice before she had returned to NewZealand. The first time he had arrived unannounced at her flat in Vienna.

She hadn't seen him for many years. He had looked thinner than she hadremembered him, when first she had met him, a student in philosophy at theuniversity she had arrived to study at, there.

His level of activism had far exceeded anything with which she hadever been involved in, she had quickly fallen in love with him. She had alsoworried though, she remembered, when she was cleaning, where a lifetogether might lead have lead then? It had led nowhere back then, and she'dhad no significant involvement with anyone else after that either. Instead

she had concentrated on improving her position at the University then,which indeed she had improved as well, up until she had recently resigned,



intending to return to New Zealand, something untidy left there to be seento, to be seen at last...

***

When Saul had first turned up again, he had told her that after he had leftthere he had returned home, as he had said to her he was going to (it hadn'treally been necessary to add that), he was going to teach there as he insistedthen that he had always told her he was going to do.

Then he had eventually married, he said, when he realised that shewasn’t going to join him there. After that he had fathered a son there as well,Paulli. And now poor Paulli was dead, Jean reflected, not thrown another hand when he landed hard on that tarmac.

And then, when Saul turned up again, the second time, he had said that problems had developed for him there then as well, in his own country? Andso he was no longer safe there also, many of his colleagues had beenimprisoned as well. Some of them had even disappeared, left, or what, hedidn't know? He had said then that he was worried about visiting Jean even,

because of that now, for the problems he thought he might bring to her then.It wasn't safe anywhere for him anymore.

This wasn't just a visit though, Jean knew then. He was hoping shemight help him out of there she knew as well. He had rememberedsomething about her, she had thought then, something about where she hadcome from, she had told him once that it was very safe there, a great placefor growing old, for growing up, the middle bit a bit dull though.

***

If Jean had ever been able to explain to Saul why she hadn’t joined him first,

when he wrote asking her to, the explanation then would have been quitesimple. For she had realised, at that time, that he had been involved in that

bombing in Leipzig. Having decided to turn a deaf ear to that, she had thencome under some surveillance herself...a little left over paranoia from NewZealand had told her that. If she had joined him, then, she had realised, then,that she would have led them straight to him. It wasn't that difficult adecision not to go then, to him.

For a few days, that first time, Saul had stayed with Jean again. Things

between them had almost drifted back to how they once had been. Never normal, they couldn't be, but sort of comfortable anyway, again they were



with each other. Only for a few moments had he ever relaxed openly.Cleaning didn't do much for him, for her it helped, a bit of extra, At least,while she was doing this, he did talk openly, sort of, followed her around theflat, as openly as he could be anyway, as she could remember anyway.

She should be careful, he had told her, not to let any of their oldfriends know he was there. You could never be sure of what lay in people’shearts, he said. But, he would soothe her, she had always lain in his.

Then, when Saul had left again after that first visit back to her, he hadtold Jean he would be back again. But it was to be many months before, andthen not long after she had first managed to establish some contact with her daughter in New Zealand again as well, before he had returned, and thistime he was in real trouble, he said, couldn’t go back there.

Once again though, and for another few days, he stayed and theyrenewed their fondness for each other again. This time though, she had toldhim something that she had never told him before, about her daughter in

New Zealand, she had grown her whole life without her. He had then talkedto her again of his own son, Paulli, Paulli whom she was now reading aboutas well.

Still, Jean had also told Saul then, that since she had not seen himagain for so long, she had been intending then to return to New Zealand, toforget all about it then. He had listened, understanding what she was saying,why, and then he had said that if she did, and if he could, he would join her there then, some day, if she wished, she still did...

*** If Jean, back then, had asked Saul to explain himself better, what held him

back there one minute longer, he wouldn’t have dared. He rememberedenough about Jean to know that she might not understand again anyway. He

didn't want her to anyway. Now, he thought again, perhaps she would have understood. But it was

still too much of a risk to him to tell her anything of the plan he had beenworking on between the time they had first met again, and then. And whichreluctantly, also, he had agreed to let his son lead, instead of himself, his sonhaving said then that it was now his turn to do something for a change. Andin fact, Paulli had reminded him, he was older then than his father had first

been when he returned home from University in Vienna, having already

bloodied himself for them all there.That was something Saul had wished Paulli had never found out about.



He hadn’t told him, one of the others had. And that was also something Jeanhad never known about either, he'd not told her anyway. Just that he wantedto leave, to return to his homeland again, just to teach.

Still, before Saul left again, after his second visit, he had given Jean

the address of Paulli's girlfriend then, anyway, who was still living nearby inMunich then, quite safe and with whom he said he was in regular contactwith. Jean should, if she did get back to New Zealand, and if she did wanthim to join her there then, if they could find a way, write to him there, butshould she, she should not use her own name then either, 'Use another, think of another's...' And it would be better, also, if she did go back to NewZealand using her own name also, but to travel there under another name aswell, if that could be arranged? That way so that the departure for there of one of his oldest friends from Vienna wouldn’t be recorded anywhere, that

just in case there was some way, one day, that he could join her there...'Could she manage this, would she?'

'Yes,' she thought she could. And 'yes,' a minute later, she would.

***

The letter then, which still arrived unexpectedly, at that address in Munich,that after the failed hijack, photos in newspapers everywhere, didn’t ask anyquestions. Simply, it set out, that if he wished to join her in New Zealand, heshould send two passport-sized photographs to the address included, a

practised signature as well, the new name, there. A passport, then, when itarrived, would be a New Zealand one. He would be a New Zealander then,and so there were some tapes included to help him out with the idiom, someepisodes of some new outrageous television series. Later, on, after he'dreturned the photographs and some practised signatures, another letter arrived then, setting out how the passport, when it came, would be delivered

then. It would be in an envelope sealed in the lining of a suitcase, whenJean's brother, photograph and name included, next arrived at the hotel hestayed at in Vienna when he travelled thereon business, The Glube. It wastoo much of a risk, the letter read, to deliver any package to him there, by

post, as these were now being scrutinised more than ever, 'rising securityconcerns', in Europe...

The date, flight Number, and expected time of arrival of the flight wasincluded there. He should book into the hotel and retrieve the passport at the

first available opportunity. Be careful!An economy class ticket to New Zealand would be included with the



passport. The ticket for travel would be for the same day as her brother wasreturning. They had been booked together. This should give him at least four days to collect the envelope. When he arrived in New Zealand he shouldhang back as long as possible, at customs, even though business class

passengers, and Ivan would be one of those, were cleared first. Her daughter would be there meet her uncle, Ivan, she looked after all his travel...wouldget him home from there. Jean would enter the terminal when she saw themgetaway. Her brother didn’t yet know she had returned, didn't knowanything about him coming then either, it would have to stay that way. Her daughter knew he was coming though, but not whom exactly, of course, nor had she even really questioned her over that either. The letter signed off then, till we meet again, fingers crossed for you there, waiting for you here,J K.

***

A breakthrough had necessitated that David travel again. The assassinationof a comrade, let alone a friend, was a serious thing and had not happened

before. At worst it could mean that the anonymity of the team could nolonger be assumed. At best, well there was no at best if that was the case.For it had to be assumed then that they all could be targeted, any time, andso they either found out specifically where the threat came from, and dealtwith that, or they all stood down forever, after that.

***

Ivan Kepler had apparently complained that he thought that one of the staff,or someone else staying at the hotel, had gone through his baggage. He

believed this because he had left his room the first morning back in Vienna

for breakfast, where, when he picked up his first coffee of his expected busyday there, he had accidentally spilt some of that, then, on his shirt.

He had returned quickly to his room, no more than ten minutes after hehad left it, unlocked the door, hoping for a quick change, and had found hissuitcase open on the bed, torn apart, instead. The complaint had been loggedand so it had come through to the Major after his request, in the wake of thekilling of their comrade, for everything reported to the police, every littlething even, reported in the run up to that, that week...

An odd thing about the Kepler case was that nothing had been reportedas missing from his suitcase, or his room, just the intrusion, the damage to



his baggage?When the Major asked that David come in that first morning, and

when he first related this to David, it seemed to David to be nothing new or helpful even, so far as he was concerned, concerned about the murder of his

comrade, as they all were.But, when the Major told him that Ivan Kepler was from NewZealand, that he had arrived in Vienna just one day before the killing, andthat his complaint was made the morning after he arrived, after he first lefthis room, David was forced to think again, and especially after he what theMajor next told him...

The man, slain by police after the killing of their comrade, had hadvery little on him, but one item he had had on him had been a key, a key that

belonged to that same hotel that Mr Kepler had been, was still, staying in.This key, passed to the Major, after the slain man had been searched,

the major on his own then, had searched a room that it seemed the slain manhad been staying in. And that search had revealed a New Zealand passportthere then as well, and an air ticket to New Zealand, unused.

A discreet enquiry then, by the major to a counterpart in New Zealand,had revealed that although the passport seemed genuine, there was no stillrecord of it ever being issued there. And, it was also new, had only onestamp in it, that for entry into Vienna as well, that for the same day that IvanKepler had arrived also.

***

It had seemed impossible to David then, that the killing of their comradecould have been instigated in far off New Zealand. But there they were?And so someone would have to follow Ivan Kepler back to New Zealandthen as well. The rub, further to that, was that Mr Kepler was leaving Vienna

for New Zealand later that same day David met with the major also. Also,no one else was near enough to go then...And so David would have to gothen, and he would have to assume the identity of the slain man then, the

photograph, on the passport, replaced already by a recent photograph of David, the Major then handed it to him, the air ticket also, the slain man's.

The plan was then, the major's, that, and if anyone was expecting theslain man there, in New Zealand, then they would in all likelihood be thereto meet him off the plane as well, so they might get sight of that person then

as well?David, the major continued, should avoid Ivan Kepler, he was



travelling business class anyway, but should get through customs as early as possible still, so as to see who might meet Kepler then as well?

An add on here was that the subsequent slaying of the assassin after hehad killed their comrade had been covered up so far. So far, it was known

only that someone had been arrested, taken wounded. David, if he wantedthose facts known, after he arrived in New Zealand, should let them know,he might want to shake some ones tree?

***

Obviously David couldn't just pretend to be the slain man either then, if thatlink did go right back there as well? They didn't know, anything yet? . Next

best thing he should find the nearest announcement desk to arrivals when hearrived, wait near there to see if anyone enquired as to whether or not theslain man had been on the flight then. Then, if anyone did that, it wouldappear that he had, and that being the case someone might even put out acall for him after that as well then? And that should ensure that he would beable to identify anyone there to meet him that way. There were many waysthis could go. There would be confusion for them as well, if he wasexpected. That could help them, David knew.

David could also get, apparently, from any post centre there, and for only a few dollars, any vehicles registered owners name and their address.

'Amazing,' he whistled.'Good luck,' the major said. 'Find out what this was all about for the

sake of all of us, won't you.'And with that the Major had passed across the package that contained

the air ticket, a passable New Zealand driver's type license with the nameDavid Wenter on it as well, another identity he could use there. Therewas enough English currency to last him some time there as well. Not that it

would be necessary for him to stay there for that long, they both hoped.There was also a photograph of Ivan Kepler taken that morning as

well, a good likeness, and there was the original passport photograph of hisnew passport was included in the package as well. He would have to changethe sterling when he got there as they hadn’t been able to get a hold of anyKiwi currency at such short notice. Traveller’s cheques and credit cardswere out as they could always be traced to somewhere.

Finally, they shouldn’t fall into the trap that the French had with the

Rainbow Warrior bombing, that of underestimating their chances of beingdetected in New Zealand. There existed, some cha mozzle that had been,



photographs, images, American satellite he reckoned, of a yacht sinking inthe pacific, a French submarine nearby. Not that deep a trench there either,this boat could surface one day, only if it was trawled for though.

'Interestingly, the American's gave them to us, when we were casting

about for anything we might offer for you, should you get caught. Seemsthey are getting on better now, the US and New Zealand, a change of government. We'll trade these, if they get on to you, might just pass them onanyway.'

'Normally,' the major said, the next minute showing him out, 'IvanKepler travels to Vienna about once a month.' If he was not able to getanywhere out there, before Mr Kepler returned to Vienna next, then Davidshould return then as well.

'Same flight.' They would be watching for his booking there.Mr Kepler’s baggage would then be searched on arrival, they would take itfrom there, it would be over for him, he could stay home for a while.

Tickets and another passport would be delivered to him when he sentthem an address there, that delivery would be by a local representative,codename Goulash. They would also keep an eye out for him out there, if

possible.'But don't count on that though,' the major had told him, 'them, for help

too much there. They are watched there so we believe, the Kiwi's are on tothem. A friend, same friend I told you about before, has told me that. Greatchap, he'd probably even like to meet you, but no to that, I think. I don;twant anybody to know you’re going there.'

He was sorry, again, it had had to be him. And David knew this wasso, that the major meant that. He would arrange for his operation to beconducted the moment he returned to Vienna. He didn't add if he did? Henever did whenever he sent them off anywhere, this time it was him for

New Zealand. 'To where?'

'Well down here,' David said to himself then. 'Somewhere where it'salways wet as well...'

***

When the old Jaguar that Joanne Kepler was by then a passenger in,appeared again at the bottom of Ivan Kepler's driveway in Titirangi, David,

back near his hire car, wiped his muddy boots best he could, got into the

drivers seat, turned the car round and followed on after them.Joanne and her companion would call at several vineyards nearby to



each other in the Henderson Valley area next. But before they did those theyvisited another first. One where they no longer cared for the vines there,very run down indeed, about to become a housing estate, signs said so, atthe end of a very long road this was, that led off opposite a very large

cemetery.

***

If David had been able to view the official file that related the backgroundof the old woman that still lived there, the major might possibly have beenable to arrange that, he would have thought he had hit the Jackpot at lastthen.

The old woman there talked lovingly again to Joanne about her mother, held her hand again, for perhaps the last time the old lady said, shewould be leaving there soon. As they left she handed Joanne the thingrammar with an inscription in it, penned by her friend, keep this for me,

love, J K. Viewing from nearby David saw this handed over. For delivery, hewondered then? He would have to see this...get a look at this, follow that,then.

The rest of the afternoon the couple spent tasting different wines atseveral different vineyards then. And at each Joanne bought several bottles,and a couple more, she decided, that her uncle might like, they would dropthese back to him.

The same with her uncle, she hadn’t told her mother’s friend about her mother’s return yet. Her mother had asked her not to, not to tell anyone of this? An odd request that had seemed, but she didn’t have that muchdifficulty with that, so pleased to have got her back herself, at long last, her long lost mother. Well not lost, really, she had been somewhere, Vienna itseemed.

***

It was all a bit off the wall really. And if it hadn’t been for the offer of themoney for the second passport, that and that that old car had still been up for sale, Jonathon would probably never have gone for it. But go for it he didafter Joanne asked him nicely enough. The first passport, he'd had no troubleknocking out, and he'd even forwarded it on to Jean himself, an official look

alike.Less risky, he had even liked the idea of the second passport standing



less chance of being scrutinised by its proposed manner of delivery, that proposed by Joanne's mother.

A problem had developed, Joanne’s mother had written first, long before then, in that if she did return to New Zealand, she might then have

some difficulty getting by financially there. Not quite sure what her mother meant by that, it did seem more plain when Joanne read on. 'Difficulties,'she read, might develop for her mother over the pension she had just startedreceiving there. It would be better, her mother had said, if her mother did notappear to have left there, when she returned, better if she left Jean Kepler there somehow instead?

It had been Jonathon whom, after she had told him of this, had thencome to their rescue. Had she told her mother about him though, shecouldn't remember? Still, ever hopeful for any improvement in attitudetowards himself from Joanne, he had been only too pleased to help her mother out.

Risky Jonathon had told Joanne then, yet a practically undetectablecrime so long as her mother didn't commit any reprehensible crime duringher passage back. And then, he had said, that when she got back, he wouldwant the passport back as well then. Then, casually, perhaps too casuallyafter that, he had then also said then that, 'We could probably always knock her up another, anyway, if she wanted to return there...' That hole dug for himself it seemed but a short time after Jean had arrived back in NewZealand, that he was asked to help out again.

Again, he complied, as if it was the most natural thing for him to do, just ask, which it wasn't, really. Still, that passports manner of deliverywould cut down the risk, and he would get that one back after that as well,he said. It even had a genuine looking entry stamp to Vienna in it, this one,'the real thing,' he had told Jean and Joanne, when he brought it round, 'Justfill in the date, that stamp courtesy of a mate...'

***

What Joanne still didn’t know about her mother, not that this would havemeant much to her anyway, those days long gone, this something her foster father hadn’t known of either, and which might have explained a few things,was that Jean had got herself well and truly offside with her peers once,while a student at Otago University, that all before she had arrived in

Auckland, pregnant then as well, and seemingly all alone in the world.A promising and near brilliant student there, Jean Kepler had sullied



her promise when it became suspected that her boyfriend was a policemanas well as the apparently well healed student that he had always passedhimself off as.

Worse really, this fellow, constantly at Jean's side, had constantly

sought involvement in causes alongside Jean also. The rumour, when it gotgoing, got back to her then as well.He, apparently, had continued with his studies despite some furore

there, brazening it out. Some damage done to Jean then as well though, shehad then decided to cut and run, that as good as confirming that she been

part of some deception there as well then.In Auckland, some six months later, she had given birth to her

daughter there, Joanne. Teachers college for a while after that had buoyedher up, besides she would have to work. Still, New Zealand, being an evensmaller place back then than now, every now and then she would hear mention of someone else arriving in Auckland from Otago, and that hadfurther unsettled her there.

Adam King, a man she had met and moved in with soon after arrivingin Auckland, had helped her out a lot to begin with. And he had continuedwith looking after her daughter after she was born also, while Jean was atteacher's college.

Post teacher's college Jean had then left Joanne with Adam and hadgone on ahead overseas then, had said that she had a place there, at another university.

That didn't run true to course either though, that was Jean. And soonshe was teaching there instead, and had said she wasn't coming back, nomatter what, she liked it there, liked someone else there as well, actually,and soon correspondence fell away to nothing.

Regardless, Adam had done the right thing by Joanne anyway, had brought her up and had never complained about any of it to anyone either,

nor to Joanne. Consequently, Joanne knew very little of her mother, her character, just the little that an old friend of her mother shared with her fromtime to time, whenever she visited her, a little about her from her uncle, thatwas all.

***

The driver of the truck that collected the bin from Ivan Kepler’s house,

spotted his mate parked up down the road from the recycling depot whereevery day they disgorged their collected refuse. He flashed his lights, turned



into the parking area and swung his wheel hard right just before the frontleft corner of his truck would have clipped his mates trucks front rightcorner. There was a slight bump. He then backed slowly up and managed to

park so close to his mate that his mate had to collapse both their mirrors.

They both laughed. His mate had just this last empty bin to deliver and thenhe could get home as well. He had delivered another one to the same placeyesterday. 'Makes you wonder what people put in them when they fill themso fast?' Anyway, his wife hated him working Sundays, so he'd, 'better getgoing.'

***

Next morning, Monday, saw Inspector George Te Rupa backing slowlyaway from the place where that bin had been delivered. He, like his partner before him, had seen quite enough. When he reached the car where she waswaiting he opened the passenger's door and got in. Detective ClaireVadonovich said nothing at first, waiting for George to say somethinginstead, she knew he didn't like this sort of scene. To begin with he mutteredsomething about, 'not forgetting to put the rubbish out that night.' And thenhe said that he, 'supposed they had better get on with it,' enquiring, 'Whathave we got so far then?' She took it from there.

***

The body had been noticed early that morning in an empty site bin set back on a construction site in Newmarket. The man that had found the body had

been on his way to catch a bus to work, he had said, when he had gone on tothe site and had looked in the bin. George looked up at that? Claire wenton...

His name, this man's, was Jonathon Livingston. He had phoned the police on a mobile phone, shown the police to the body when the first car had arrived.

When Claire had interviewed Mr Livingston he had told Claire that hehad been walking home by there the night before. And that it was near therewhere he had heard some sort of commotion then, some banging, more likea boom, the bin he thought when he saw it there the next morning.. Anyway,that had been at about 11pm, the night before. He had yelled out then, he

had said, 'just to let anyone know who was on the site that there were othersabout then also.' Then he had walked on, he had said, 'a bit quicker after



that, home to bed, up early, walking by there again, the next morning. Alittle spooked I am now, after finding that,' he had said then.' Home, where'sthat,' asked George?

Livingston had a flat nearby, it seemed, and that had been where he

had been heading for when he walked by the site, latish, Sunday night.Before that he had been at a café come bar nearby, which he had said closedabout then, on Broadway. He didn’t investigate then, he had said, when heheard all that racket, because who would walk onto a building site at thattime of night anyway, certainly not him.

Still, it was when walking past the site early that Monday morning, onhis way to work, that he remembered then, he said, what he had heard thenight before.

He had decided to have a look then, had then looked in the bin as well,at about 6 am. Shocked by what he had seen in there, it had taken him aminute or two after that to compose himself, to call them. The call had comein about 6-15 am.

***

When Claire had seen George coming back to the car for their first chat shehad asked Mr Livingston to stay where he was, 'if he didn’t mind,' that whileshe checked if her boss wanted to talk to him as well then. When she came

back to Livingston, after that, she checked his contact details again, told himthey would be in touch soon, a statement would have to be taken then.

'Also,' George had wanted her to ask Livingston, anybody hangingabout, this, 'Had he ever seen that man around here before then?

'No,' he seemed certain about that, 'I don't usually even walk past here,get around by car usually, a bit banged up that is at the moment, someone

backed into me I think, hence the walking for a while now, the bus.'

'But,' Claire ventured then, not sure if George would approve, 'the manin the bin is face down, you can't be sure of that, surely?'

At that Mr Livingston just ventured a blank look back again, at Claire.

***

Another person, an older women, out early and walking her dog, had arrivedat the scene after Mr Livingston, was still about and Claire had also been

able to interview her. Not able to add much, Claire put her name and contactdetails down in her notebook anyway, Joan King. She seemed, Claire noted,



to live nearby as well.Last, before she let her get on, Claire asked her then if she had ever

seen the man in the bin before, as she had Livingston.'No,' she had replied to that as well. 'Neither of them!'

So, it seemed unlikely, then, that they would need to talk to her again,Claire told her that. She didn't seem relieved or anything by that, Clairenoticed, thanked her anyway.

Off down the road this tidy respectable looking women trotted then,her well brushed, tidy looking little dog, trotting alongside her.

***

His name, this battered man in the bin, appeared to be one David Wenter.This discerned to begin with from amongst sundry items in a wallet, andfrom a photograph of him on a driver’s licence that looked like him anyway.

The licence was of further interest to George in that the plastic fronthad peeled off after a little scratching. George said little to that then though,not ever one to think too much out loud.

The details of the licence could still be checked though, those clear enough, and Claire made some calls after that. It didn't take her long to beable to tell George then that the address did not check out? George, inanswer to that, thought the man's address could be, so a receipt for someshoes in to be re-soled on him had indicated, 10 Tenet Street then, nearby,

Newmarket.

***

Wenter had obvious marks of violence about him. Torn clothing, bruising,dry blood, and some, on the back of his neck, that even looked wettish. That

he found to be most definitely so after he touched the back of the man’sneck feeling for a pulse. There was none, though blood, almost dry, hadstained his fingertips.

Wenter looked more like he’d been run down than beaten though?That being so George decided then that the man had probably been put inthe bin because of some motor accident then, someone had already thoughthe was dead?

But he hadn’t been dead then, had he...It was unlawful to dispose of a

dead body, not as unlawful as murder though. 'Which act, then,' hewondered, 'had been committed? And by whom?' When the scene of crime



people had finished their work they would have a better idea after that. The body should be removed then, soon as possible, the post mortem as soon as possible after that. That under way there was, meantime, some time left thatday to progress the rest of the investigation. This address could at least be

checked.

***

Due to that, due to taking that line to start with, complications for theenquiry, soon developed. And they were developing due to the apparentrecent vacating of 10 Tenet St, Newmarket, as well then?

Indeed it seemed as if no one lived there at all, not a good start. Nextof kin, if there were any, where as well then? They would have to get in anddid after George had lifted up a few pot plants nearby to the door, and hadfound a key there.

There were no personal possessions in the flat, the fridge was empty,the beds had covers on them, the chairs at the dining room table were

pushed in.After a further look around, it even looked like the flat had been

cleaned, thoroughly as well, smelt like that also, they concluded, beforeleaving. They closed the door behind them, deciding, George did, to keepthe key for a while as well then. It had looked more like the flat was about to

be let than lived in. What to make of that?There had been some mail though, it always does keep coming, and

they'd gathered. But this was all addressed to a William Symmes instead.What to make of that as well? For that person, so far as Claire could

find out then, was not a person who existed in anyway either. Except that hehad been the person who had applied for the power a month before?

'Progress,' she believed then.

***

The man, Livingston, who had phoned in on his mobile phone that morning,who had reported finding the body in the bin first, lived, he had said, in aflat at 11 Tenet Street, this Claire pointed out to George then, the addressesnear opposite to each she had noticed by then.

'Strange then that he should say that he had never seen Mr Wenter

before?'Claire, after that remark, and with George's blessing, then crossed over



to Mr Livingston address, and found him in then as well. Mr Tim's, after answering the door, told Claire then, that he had, ‘decided to give work amiss that day, after all that.'

Claire showed him the driver's license then, with the photograph of the

man he had found dead in the bin that morning on it. George had handed ither, when she had asked for it before she crossed the road to Mr Livingston, positive she had seen a blind twitch there.

Claire asked Mr Livingston again if he’d not noticed this man, about,that this man had been his neighbour as well, it seemed now?

'Sorry,' he said to that, again. But he had never noticed the man he hadfound dead that morning, the person in that photograph, in his street before.

***

While Claire was over the road talking to Jonathon Livingston, Georgemade a few calls of his own then. And he came up with some blanks on hisown then, those when trying to track down the referees mentioned in theapplication for William Symmes power, that lying about in the flat as well.Well not lying about exactly, everything like that, mail, had been very tidily

placed on a shelf, nothing sticking out at any old odd angle.Later, in George’s office they looked through the mail together. None

of the mail was of a personal nature. And none of the mail concerned or mentioned anyone by the name of David Wenter either, just this WilliamSymmes then.

The person who owned the flat, Claire had soon found out, wasresident overseas. The flat, then, had been left to be let by Holland's EstateAgents, Newmarket.

And no, that person's name, the leaser, not the lessee, wasn't WilliamSymmes either. They called it a day, that day, then.

***

The next morning, Tuesday, both George and Claire attended the postmortem. Too early for George this was, but Claire didn't mind so much.

This showed that the man had been aged in his late thirties and wasnormally, and unusually, very fit. He had been run down for sure. But whathe had finally died of was from one very heavy blow to the back of his head

with perhaps a piece of framing timber. That, the pathologist said, it might be worthwhile searching the building site for. They would.



That injury though, and this was where it got interesting for George atlast, had been delivered some twenty-four hours after he sustained someother injuries.

The man had been very fit, a survivor, a man who would usually fight

back from injury, had done before.There were injuries consistent with him having been in some militaryforce.

Some of the scaring he bore seemed to have been caused recently aswell, by something that had exploded close at hand, not too long ago,

perhaps a month?Another wound, also fairly recent, in the lower back, looked very

much like it was a gunshot wound. He had been expertly patched up though.But it was not likely that he was yet fully fit again. Perhaps he had beenholidaying here so as to assist his recuperation. Surely he hadn't been activein any sense!

The more recent injuries, before the blow to the head, were consistentwith him having been hit very hard, and from side on also though, low downfirst, by a motor vehicle, a red one it seemed, judging from the bits of paintthey’d found, handed to them then, a small container containing paintscrapings, useful if they could find the car that had hit him.

There was some mud on his shoes, bits of what might be some brackenand fern about his clothing, some in a jar for George, some had been sent off for checking on in the lab as well.

Finally, George and Claire were told that the man had sustained quitesevere injuries when he was hit by the car. And it could have seemed tosome after that, that he would likely have no chance of recovering fromthose. 'Still he might have though...'

'Murder it was then,' George concluded after that.

***

Tuesday afternoon, at Holland's letting agent, and Joanne Kepler told Clairethat the flat had indeed been let to a William Symmes, almost a month

before.Mr Symmes was also, she was helpful there as well, the person in the

drivers licence photograph. She was surprised, she also said, to hear that Mr Symmes no longer seemed to be living at 10 Tenet Street then, when he

died?'How did the die then, by the way?'



'Don't know yet,' Claire lied.She supposed, Joanne did then, that she had better get the house

cleaned up and let again.'Its already been cleaned, looks set, ready to let already.'

'Can we then?''Back up a bit can we...No, you can't let it yet by the way. He hadn’t been in to tell you he was leaving then, this Mr Symmes, not even a phonecall then?'

'No,' Ms Kepler replied, 'fraid not.' Joanne was looking sharply about.‘If someone else cleaned up the flat, then Mr Symmes must have found thatsomeone himself then. Yes?'

Mr Symmes she described then, when asked about that next, had been polite, a well-spoken person, whom had aroused no feelings of concerninsofar as her letting the flat to him to begin with went either.

As far as how the let had come about, he had approached them, walkedin, photograph in the window, she'd been in.

The rent and the bond had been paid at the beginning of his tenancy at No.10, Tenet. Two months rent in all, $3000 abouts, a cheque. The nextmonth due about then...

As to what sort of work he was in she recalled him saying that he wasan analyst, or something of that sort, she met all sorts.

***

Wednesday and Thursday, the next couple of days, the enquiry took the formof visiting bars, cafés and restaurants in the vicinity of where Mr Symmeshad lived. Despite showing photographs blown up from the driver’s licensearound, no progress was made that way. Their dead man had not been aregular anywhere. The shoe repairers were no more helpful either. The shoes

that had been dropped in for re-soling were ready to be picked up though,the new soles by then glued on top of the old. They collected them anyway,for all the use it seemed they might be. They would have the soles removedanyway.

'Oh,' the chap mentioned as they left, 'they were a little muddyunderneath when he brought them in.'

***

Thursday afternoon a break in the case came, when a company on Broadway



that hired cars and vans lodged a complaint with the police regarding a car that had been hired by a Mr David Wenter the Friday proceeding his beingfound deceased the Monday morning after that.

As the names Symmes and Wenter had both been searched for on the

police computer by Claire, they had both been automatically flagged ashaving been searched for by her then as well, the flag meaning that she waslooking for more.

The call, after it came in through the communications centre, and after having been entered into the log there, was then referred to Claire.

***

Normally Cars on Broadway would have expected Mr Wenter to havereturned his hire car as was usual on the Monday morning. Not returned thatMonday morning, the manager, as Mr Wenter had been a customer beforethen, had then allowed him a few more days to return the vehicle after that.After that though, and after referees had been checked so as to locate Mr Wenter, the referees had then been found by the Manager, Peter Collier, notto exist finally. Mr Collier’s job was probably on the line he felt.

When Claire later asked Collier for Mr Wenter’s car hire records shefound he had them at hand, plainly worried by it all. Cars had been hired onthree previous weekends and for the same length of time as well. Theserecords also showed that the mileage readings for the three previousoccasions were similar, showing perhaps that he had travelled to and fromthe same place during each hire period, approximately fifty-four, fifty fivekilometres each hire period, there and back from somewhere?

To check whether he was coming or going then, or if Mr Wenter hadgone away somewhere in particular each weekend, George then decided thatthey would have to see if anybody living in the street could recall any of the

cars hired being parked weekend days, or evenings, outside Number 10Tenet Street.

To make things more difficult for them there though, David Wenter had insisted on cars of different make each time he had hired one. Thoughon two consecutive occasions, two cars, not the same make, had been of thesame colour, light red. This had almost caused Mr Wenter to cancel thesecond car hire then, Mr Collier remembered, as Mr Wenter had said that hehad specifically asked for the white Toyota for the next weekend, made

quite a fuss about that actually.And it was that that had led him to wondering about Mr Wenter's



nationality then. For although Mr Wenter’s English and way about himseemed to qualify him as near local, an impression had stuck with him, then,that that this may not have been so, stressed he had seemed over such a littlething, really, not really our way.

He couldn’t be more helpful than that though, and so Claire thankedhim for then, left him no more concerned about the fate of his hire car andhence his job then, than he already had been, before she had arrived to speak to him.

***

Friday morning George then had Detective Constable Donald Pricechecking local banks in the Newmarket area. Bill Waters, attending the samemeeting, he told to go up any alley he felt like, until they, he, whomever, hedidn't imagine it would be Price, got something solid for them to get goingon.

'Why?' asked Price, given less scope than Bill again, might the local banks tie in here?

'Well, he must have been getting his cash out somewhere near, or may,should I say...it's worth a look. See what you can cash.' Some joke, Pricethought.

***

And so it was Price, actually, at last, who not only found the two bank accounts, both local, but who also got them going, and by lunchtime as well.

One of them, of these bank accounts, it turned out, had beenestablished almost one month before then, then in the name of their DavidWenter as well.

Another, the following day, at another bank, had then been establishedin the name of William Symmes, their other mystery man, the same, Pricehaving flashed the photograph both places.

This account of William Symmes, the second one, had been opened bythe deposit of $5000 cash. A temporary cheque book had then been issued toWilliam Symmes there, un-customary that usually. Two cheques had since

been issued relating to that account, one cheque for $3000, to Hollands realestate, agents, the other, only other, a power bill, the balance remaining,

$1767. 51. No activity of late.The first account, in the name of David Wenter, had been opened



following the deposit of sterling there. 'English money,' Price had added, 'aton of it.' That would explain some of the ease in which this person had beenable to operate then, George thought, this some traveller's fund then.

At this first bank David Wenter had also requested other items, those

not bagged so far, not found on him, not in the flat. 'But maybe in the car,'George suggested then, A bank card then, amongst those items requested byWenter, hadn't been found, one that could be used in ATM machines. A visacard also, had been ordered, that collected personally, several days later.

Withdrawals from the Wenter bank account, the first, had then beenmade by bank card only, in the main at ATM’s scattered around the city.Some local also. Newmarket, some in the western suburbs as well,Henderson?

The only large transaction after the initial large deposit at that first bank had involved the sum of $5,000 handed to David Wenter in exchangefor some of the sterling that he had deposited there. That had left a balanceof near $11,000 in this first account then, still there, that account openedJuly 10, a month before then.

This second account of William Symmes again then, that had beenopened by the deposit of $5000 cash, later that same day, that same cash,

presumably, the same amount anyway. A temporary cheque book had beenissued to William Symmes then?

'Another slip up in procedure then, by someone,' George decided. 'Mr Wenter of the opinion by then, that no identification need be provided? Howso? Could that be checked as well? That slip up, why?'

Then, finally, having given that little thought, said, 'Look, let's forgetthat. Let's check arrivals, instead, couple of days before those accounts wereopened, that might get us started? Auckland International airport, let's startthere!'

This was one of those George moments, Claire recognised, when they

all might get a head.

***

Claire, set on to that, then began checking back into entry into the country aday or two before the opening of the first account, Mr Wenter's, July 10.

Not allowing for entry into the country of any person travelling under any name in particular, the check did throw up the surname though, of a Mr

Kepler? Who, when Claire further checked that, seemed, was, a male businessman, 64, he had arrived on a flight in from Vienna early on July 9.



Told of this, George had Claire run further background and travelchecks on Ivan Kepler then, they had nothing else. There was nothing of anyinterest insofar as his background went though, he was a frequent traveller.But so what! Weren't many?

Still, when Claire had come across that name and first mentioned it tohim, George had wondered if Joanne Kepler was any relation to that man.Claire had before him. He decided to ask her then, this Claire, have her

brought in, end of play Friday, if she didn't mind. The fishing, planned for that weekend, was not going to wait for the answer to that nagging question?

She did of course, mind. But George still insisted, anyway, offered tosend Waters, still about the station, to get her, Price gone home. Said she'dcome in then, after that offer, on her own...

And so it turned out that that was so, they were related, that this IvanKepler was Joanne Kepler's uncle in fact. This was getting interesting.

***

He was on his own now though, Joanne told them, his wife having passedaway some five years before then. As had George's also, he commiserated.Still, Joanne was now quite involved in his life. Someone then.

'But so what,' she said. 'Why are you so interested in this, in any of that. Would you mind telling me, before we go on.'

George bore on. 'Bearing in mind that you have just said you are quiteinvolved in your uncle’s life, Ms. Kepler,' this with emphasis, 'you wouldn’thave met him off the plane, by any chance, when he returned to this countrythen, July 9..?'

'Well, yes,' she replied, seemed perfectly relaxed abut that, aboutanswering that. 'That was probably so, probably the date also. But again, sowhat?'

'Relax Miss Kepler,' George said then. 'You’re not under any cautionor anything. Would you like a cup of tea, cigarette...coffee,' he offered again,'we won't be much longer.' He opened the draw on his side of the interviewroom's desk, there always was a packet there, he hoped she did want one, hedid. It still being considered, thankfully, next to humane to allowinterviewees to smoke if they really felt that need. He did.

'No thanks,' she had said again, no relief for George there then, Claireemphasised with him, a good man really.

'Let's just get through this so I can go instead.'George had to ask her then, if she would mind if he lit one up himself.



She didn't care, she said. This was his place not hers.'Okay,' George lit up, after a minute, said, 'You don’t know this,' pause,

'but not only are we interested in the person that you helped identify for us,that person being both William Symmes and David Wenter then,' pause

again, 'but we are also conducting enquiries now into his suspicious death.'He stopped to let this sink in. And could see that in some way, it did.'How suspicious?' she asked at last.'Well...finally, after being run down, sometime on the weekend, late

Saturday maybe, he was hit very hard on the back of the head, late Sundaysometime, with a very solid piece of wood, and from behind as well, whilein the bin we think, lying face down there. Probably with a bit of framingtimber lying around we suppose, which we are yet to locate. But we will,short of it being part of some house by now. Not on that site anyway.'

Claire winced.George continued. 'Another thing, at about the time that we expect this

person entered this country, we are working back from the opening of bank accounts here, no person with either of those names did though. Your uncle,whom you met at the airport, he did though. That's at least a coincidence, wethink.'

'Really,' Joanne Kepler replied to that, sounding less interested thanever, 'Why then, now that I'm up with you, I can’t help wondering, whyhave you decided that this person may have entered this country on that

particular day as well then? Tell me that? Not wanting to be over criticalhere, of you, too insensitive as regards Mr Wenter, either. Or Mr whomever?'

'Because,' George said, 'neither person has ever been resident in thiscountry before that day, is why. And also we have bank accounts then, beingopened in those names the day after that. What do you think about that?Anything?'

'No!' Finally, 'the flat, can I let it yet?''No sorry, not yet.' Claire chipped in, looking bored by it all now,

mirroring Joanne, back to herself.'You don’t happen to know a Mr Jonathon Livingston by any chance,

do you, just thought I'd ask?' That, as she stood to lead Joanne Kepler out,George stubbing out the last of his smoke, the signal, Claire read it, to quit.

'No,' Joanne answered quickly. Too quickly Claire thought then,George as well, even though he seemed to be taking no notice then.

'Is he mixed up in this as well then?' Joanne's parting comment.'He found our man, that’s all,' George, still seated, said. 'In the bin, his



head stoved in, dead. He phoned in, that's all, lived opposite him as well,said he'd never seen him before, also.' He'd told her it all, then.

After that, after Claire had shown Joanne out. Bill Waters, still about,shot off too, Claire next, George after that, sighed, then signed out, heading

home to no one again. Still, as he drove, he spotted the half dark moonsparkling on the harbour.There were lights out there. The dancing lights of ships passing in the

night, reflecting off the water, almost indistinguishable from the shipsthemselves. Was the light on water, or just above? A constant concern for George, but not for the fishermen out there. They would be more intent onhooking one of those fish feeding along the edges of the channels, eroded bythe churning screws of those mighty liners.

***

Come Sunday night, George, relaxed after a good bit of late fishing himself,the night before, now knew that extensive hotel checks would have to beentered into next. For another line of enquiry, that investigated, that mighthelp them proceed?

Likely, the Kepler's aside probably, the person who opened the bank accounts would have spent at least one night somewhere, somewhere

between the airport hopefully and Newmarket, before starting to open bank accounts then.

If on that route, that would also mean, not much of a push this, that theairport was definitely the route in to begin with? Kepler was part of this.Somehow? Or not? Just now that didn't matter anyway.

'Where is he?' Waters, next morning, Monday, was nowhere to be seen.Don Price, in, had come up good so far though. George decided to let

him have a go at this then. He often got a bit entangled if over worked

though. He'd have to watch out for that, in himself as well, had to remember to empty the net, himself. Easier, when you're not on your own. He'd almostforgotten.

First thing George had been up to the seventh floor to ask Chief Inspector John Madden for extra help. Up there he had been reminded again,he always was, of the problems that expanding enquiries posed for them.

Already he had assigned Bill Waters to him and he could keep DonPrice for as long as he liked. George thanked him for at least that, Claire was

his side-kick anyway, had been for some time. Still, Bill Waters was anexperienced enough officer, he knew, could even have been handed this case



himself at a push. The Chief Inspector rounded off with a bit more of whathe quite often talked about at the conclusion of most fruitless requests for extra resources, fishing.

Still they'd not been out together for some time, that was so. It was

George's boat so his decision when.They would soon. Soon as he put this case to bed. 'If never, then before then.' Madden's eye's narrowed a little and he seemed to have gotsome point from that remark? Still, that had never made a blind bit of difference before.

'Any enquiries I can help you out with though,' as George let himself out, 'I'll do what I can as well.' Now that was something new.

***

Price gone, Waters still not in, Claire and George headed out west,something nagging at him again. Nothing down there yet, brushing againstthe line. Still he felt played a little, by Joanne. No getting away from it. Sheat least had known the murdered man, 'Mr Whomever,' indeed, a cold fishshe might be? That left her uncle, again? What was he like, deep down?'Like him?'

Ivan Kepler's business took some finding, his main office sometwenty-five kilometres out there, to the west of Auckland’s city centre, inHenderson.

The name of the company was Shumans, International. They dealtoverseas and in the main in chemical agents. They could assist in the clean-up of areas that had become over-contaminated by old-style manufacturing

processes.

'There was no substitute,' George thought, when he read the blurb thathe found at the Shumans' office entrance foyer, 'for considering the landlong before it ever got to that.'

***

Mr Kepler would be able to see them, she was sure of that. But it wouldn't

be much use waiting for him there his secretary Ms. Jane Wright hadinformed them. It would have to be at his home, she would phone him there



tee it up, which she did. Off the phone she then wrote down the address for them, explaining further that he had fallen down a bank the weekend before.He had been doing some cleaning up work at his home, was still a bit

bruised from that, knocked about he had been, resting up, due to that.

He would expect them at his address in Titirangi if they went there,then. And so off they went in another direction then, up into the Waitakeres,those splendid bush cloaked hills, secrets in there, often wet there as well...

Arriving at Kepler's door, the long drive, he greeted them, explainedthat he was on his own there. He had been on his own mostly since his fall,the weekend before. He'd popped into work the Saturday before, before hisfall, but he'd not been in since. He'd also been alone, there, since then, sincethey asked.

The accident? 'Oh that,' he'd been cleaning up around the place,intending to anyway, to clear as much as possible of the ever-regenerating

bracken and flax they had never quite been cleared from there before.Before, he said he meant by that, when his wife and himself, had had

the house built some six years ago...she was no longer with him, had passedaway.

***

Claire got into more of a discussion with Mr Kepler then, asking him moreabout his wife first, and after that about his business interests overseas.George knew only too well what it felt like to lose a wife. Uncomfortablesitting about, more Claire's thing this, he soon excused himself, havingasked Mr Kepler if he would mind if he had a wander around the property. It

had been a long time since he'd felt free to just wander about in the bush. Heshould feel free to wander where he would, Kepler had said, resumed hisconversation with Claire before he even got out the door...

The ground, outside, George found, out the back of the house, wasovergrown as was usual out west, where great forests had once stood, ever-regenerating. A fall could certainly have taken place there, he didn't doubtthat anyway. Anytime, night or day.

It was hard to see what might have been cleared away though, and so,

when George re-entered the house he asked Mr Kepler about this. What hadhappened to the scrub he had cut out then, it hadn't even looked like he had,



really?

Mr Kepler told them, 'Ah, well that was that, wasn't it,' he had hired a bin for that, a large one as well, but he'd not got going with that task. A work call, then the fall.

Hence, it had been collected Sunday morning then, empty, by thecompany he had hired it from. The name of the company, he told them, wasGoodmans, and he had found them in the yellow pages. From Ivan Kepler’sthey went straight there.

***

When Goodmans general manager, Clive Bunson, was asked if they had anycontracts with construction companies in Newmarket, he replied that theydid. And, that coincidentally they had a bin delivered to Newmarket theSaturday before being held from them at the moment by the police. Georgewondered for a minute why he didn’t already know that, that it originatedfrom out here?

'Look.' Clive Bunson said, 'Is that what you are here about, then?'

George cut him off. 'Could that bin have been the same bin as you picked up from Kepler's..?

'No,' Clive Bunson told them, the answer was emphatically, 'No!'

'Sitting in someone’s notebook, that information would be,' Georgethought to himself then, annoyed.

***

The Kepler bin had been picked up and delivered to Newmarket on theSunday, not the Saturday. It wasn’t the same one, he was sure of that! Hehad talked to the only two drivers that worked the weekend, only thatmorning as a matter of fact, and he had been assured of that by them.The order had been, for two bins, delivered by Monday, phoned in, helooked down at his desk pad, just before lunchtime, Friday. They knew their

bins, his drivers. George was sure they did, still... 'No,' they weren’t in theyard at the moment. He wasn’t sure when they would be back either.Anyway, did George have, 'any idea when they might have their bin back?'



Following that, he didn’t.

***

'That would have all been too simple, don’t you think,' Claire said, as shesteered them slowly out of the gate of the yard, turning in the direction of the motorway, George staring ahead...

Taking a call, Claire talked for a while. She should, really, just bedriving, George was thinking, about the case as well. It wasn't developinginto anything that really connected yet. Claire put the phone back in the side

pocket.

'That was Bill, Waters. Someone back at comms had let him knowwhere we were headed. He said that when he found that out he tried to ringyou straight away, but your phone was switched off?' It had been, whileGeorge had been wandering about, outside at Kepler's.

'Mine I left in here. He wanted to let us know that Joanne Kepler visited Ivan Kepler at the address, as it turns out, we just visited. Better still,or not, she visited there just after we had her in late last Friday as well.

Waters, apparently, followed her there, on his way home, he said. 'Which isrubbish, I know, he lives nowhere near there. You should rein him in!'

'Maybe,' George replied. 'Something that though.'

In silence, after that, Claire drove them back to base, there to whereDon Price was awaiting them, Waters present as well.

***

There, then, back at base, Don Price let them know that he had finally turnedup a possible first night stop over for them, for their mystery man. Thatfrom motel and hotel enquiries nearby, and from the sketchy memory of onemotel’s desk clerk, one Leonie Taurua. That after some pushing though,some hesitancy on her part to begin with, after he had showed her the photo,his warrant card then.

Regardless, this dragged out of her or not, the date was right, sheremembered him. July 9, he came in, before lunchtime, she just back atwork, after a trip to the Gold Coast, visa card, 'maxed out from that,' she hadsaid. But it had been, 'worth it, the break,' she had said, 'how to pay for it,



another thing.'And so, 'she was being frank, did he appreciate frankness?' she had

asked Price. Price had said that he did!Getting on then, they all knew by now that the stay hadn't been

registered. When he had checked in he had offered pounds sterling as payment, accepted by the clerk.'Getting better,' George thought at hearing that.A couple of other things, then. For one, he had produced a passport

when he checked in, which he needn’t have done, and she had told him that.Another, it had been a New Zealand passport and odd she had thought that,that her own reasoning.

'See the man spoke English well enough,' though he had, as sheremembered. 'Not understood it so well, as he spoke it, had asked her torepeat herself a couple of times then.'

'Hard of hearing perhaps,' Don Price had suggested then.'Hearing you,' George replied. “No name I suppose?''No, unfortunately, she didn't open the passport, clock that. He offered

his first name after that though. Jock, or some such name,' she said, 'the bestI could get out of her after that. after I told her not to leave town. Asked mewhy then, was I going to come round? She's legit in a crooked sort of way, Ithink.'

'Good enough opinion that is for me as well then,' George said, pleasedwith all this.

'We'll give her a break, then. Too late for a search of the room nowanyway...a fuss, futile. Tell her that when you see her again.'

'Yes sir, I will.' He'd fallen into that, hooked, blushed a little after that.And they all saw it, had seen it before also. 'Kids,' Price thought,discounting the cost of that.

***

Tuesday morning and George wanted Ivan Kepler brought in. This flight in business, he felt they had been on the same flight, the connection Joanneagain. 'Jock and Jill..?'

They could call on him again if he wasn't quite up to it, or if he preferred that,' Claire told him?

'Mind, he didn’t mind at all,' he said, a little soft on Claire perhaps, she

knew, she'd had her ways for years.He was, 'coming into town anyway,' he said. Then asked what time



then?' A give away really, he was trying. She didn’t mind as much as sheshould have, she realised then, the job in hand. Like him, or not? Or like a

bit of flattery perhaps? Probably, she wasn't sure.

***

Mr Kepler’s visit to Vienna had lasted four days, he told them then, after being shown into the same room that his niece had previously beeninterviewed in. His parents, 'had, in fact, come from there. He had found thathe liked the feel of it there as well.

And, he had found there, he could have meetings there with both hisWest German business associates, and with the contacts they had in whathad formerly been East Germany.

Many Western German business people, he explained, wanted to assistin the re-development of what was formally East Germany. This was for thecommon good. Also, of course, for the opportunities, business...

'Yes,' he would accept a cigarette, which George then lit for him,holding out a match, striking another for himself.

Settled back George then pushed David Wenter’s drivers licencetowards him.

'Do you know that person?' George ventured.'No, I’m sorry, I don't know that person,' Ivan Kepler replied.'Did you know, or meet in Vienna, any person who arrived in this

country on the same flight as you did. After this last trip of yours therethen?'

'I take it you mean this person then, do you?' Ivan Kepler askedGeorge, perspicacious. 'No, I don't think so, not ever.'

'Did you know then, or have you ever meet a person, in your travels,first name Jock, supposedly from here?'

'No, no Jocks. A few knaves, yes.' A bit of a laugh there, both of them...

'Thank you very much for your help then, Mr Kepler.’ George left it atthat, he believed him.

'How's that..?''I’ll have you shown out, Claire, can you...' She was up before George

got this out.'Yes, sure.' She declined the offer of lunch though, made at the outside

door.



***

The following day, Wednesday, first thing, Bill Waters reported in with newsthat Jonathon Livingston had entered Holland’s office the morning before,

the Tuesday, when they were talking to Mr Kepler, Waters seemed to haveknown.Livingston had not been in there long though, Holland's office. But

when he left he had been joined a short time later by Joanne Kepler, for awalk in the park nearby.

***

Following that interesting development Bill Waters had then switched fromtaking and interest in Joanne Kepler to taking an interest in JonathonLivingston instead, that off his own back. Although this did get back toGeorge, Price shopping him, when George asked what Waters was up to?

This character, Livingston, George interested in him by now as well,had denied ever seeing their man around, before he was found, by him,dead? That despite him living opposite him. A month maybe, even? Thatwas possible of course. Still..?

***

Joanne Kepler, then, had also told George that she didn’t know thisJonathon Livingston? That a question that George no longer wondered whyhe had asked her now? Grateful though, that he had, for the sake of the dead.

She could have said yes. It would have been no big deal then? Butnow, obviously, he was glad that he had, asked her. What about this, thisdevelopment, was it, then?

First off, George, when he had heard this, that they had met, Joanneand Jonathon, was going to ask Price to look into Jonathon Tim’s

background then, his standing with Joanne. But by then Bill Waters hadalready gone to work on that. He was after him, this Livingston. A real

bloodhound he was, a fisher of men. He had sniffed something?

***

Recounting thus, Wednesday first thing again, Waters was able torecount by then, that Jonathon Livingston had, up until fairly recently



worked in the city for the immigration service.That and that he had held quite a responsible position there until

recently. More interesting than that though, was a possible reason that hemay have wanted to quit working there, not on record, 'here was the good

bit,' he had been suspended briefly, that pending an enquiry into theacquiring of a bonafide New Zealand passport, that by an overseasnational...

And that person, his nationality still unknown so far, not reportedanyway, had been arrested in Vienna as well, that in the wake of the killingof a consular employee there. That, news of that, had appeared in the Herald , a week before also. 'This paper,' he flourished then.

George's eyebrows shot up then. He had not read of this, not seen it,any mention of it?

Waters, enjoying himself, went on. The enquiry had not provedanything against Mr Livingston, or against anybody actually. And all thiswas being kept very low under the radar so far. Spooks involved as well, sohis friend had said.

The outcome for now, was though, had been, that Livingston was nolonger employed in the city, that at his own request. And he had been shiftedto immigration control at the airport now, at his request again. There, thisfriend of Waters had told him, Jonathon Livingston, yard bird usually,seemed to have his head down there more than was usual for his generallychirpy self.

***

Joan King, when Claire visited her again, her job the Thursday, George'sidea again, Price late in, Waters wherever, said she had been out walking her dog early, again.

Nice, Claire thought. No dog herself, of course. Who would walk it,anyway, if she had? She'd have to retire also. One day, she might get a goodoffer? 'You never know?'

'That Monday again, then,' Claire on her doorstep, 'The day that that body was found in the bin...remember it...? Could they discuss that again?'

'Sure, come in.' Spotless, Claire noticed, this place. garage attached aswell, she'd like that. A car maybe, 'inside,' she asked?

'No.'

'Okay.''Back to that, then, to that morning.'



'Okay, shoot.' She poured out a coffee for them both.'This was at about 6-15 am then,' Claire seated by then, a covered

couch, adding a little milk, stirred it in...'Again for us, if you don't mind. Any little detail, it can help.'

'Well, passing near that building site, best I can remember,' Joan King began to recount, she had noticed Mr Livingston standing there, a worriedlook about him, a mobile phone being swapped, hand to hand.

Then, when he saw her, he had come up to her, stopped her, and hadtold her what he had found. Standing about he had been then, really, shiftingfrom leg to leg he was as well.

'Very uncomfortable, he was, this Mr Livingston.' So, she had waitedwith him. What else could she do, for the police to arrive, with him, whicharrive they did, shortly after that last call, that did go through.

That gone through again Claire asked her about now, her life?'Retired,' she said. 'A teacher once. Keep active now by walking the

dog, a bit of cleaning for a few friends. No family, no,' the question unasked.'A famous lover once, infamous really...' She looked down, laughed a

little at herself then.Sad about something, Claire could see? Still, tea and sympathy thrown

in, she still couldn't recall telling Joan King Mr Livingston's name? Maybeshe'd become hard these days though? Or more so... she'd always been alittle tough.

***

The trial of a man, George read in the Herald , a man suspected of carryingout a killing in Vienna, was scheduled for later that year, this article said,there being some, 'enquiries,' apparently, 'being made overseas...'

'Hmm,' George wondered, 'could that mean here?' It could, of course,

he knew. There'd been a bit of state sponsored terrorism on their shores onlya few years before.

That running through his mind, he decided then to fax a photograph of their deceased man to police in Vienna. From whence came a surprisinglyquick reply, he thought then, brought down to him from upstairs?!

This, which told him that the photograph had been received had athank you added as well. 'Very grateful...For what,' George wondered? Then,'could he send fingerprints, any chance?' And as he could, he did.

Between then and the next communication, he wondered if that wouldcome back quickly as well, he'd hang about, he read that paper back to back.



Another item, overseas news, well... under-seas news really, and so caughtup with this he became. Caught up to the point where he knew he would notsleep well that night either, this concerned a fishing trawler, and asubmarine, the fishing trawler dragged down to the depths, the submarine

had snagged the trawlers nets. At once and at one George had been withthose fishermen then, while he read that, waiting, dragged down with them,all men, by some unfathomable force, all the way down, as they clawed atthe clinging mesh...

The next communication, when it did come back, brought him round.This, the one he had been hanging back for, was addressed to him andsimply said, that identification had not been able to be made there, 'after all?'And that 'they were sorry over that,' as well.

'Sorry now, as well...?' George was stirred... 'Some stake in this then?Or what...?' He would go on with this then, he knew. Stay on that that track somehow. Step aside only when he had to, to let others pass, only if theywouldn't give way to him though, start shaking some trees, that was his job.And no one had said otherwise yet. Not even Madden, upstairs, surprisingly,seemed to be leaving them to tread where they liked? Waters as well?

***

Back of that Claire was he sent,by George, to interview Ivan Kepler againthen, Claire who had struck more of an accord with Kepler, than him. Hewould have liked to have asked him more about his domestic arrangementshimself. But was also worried that the lives and times they'd both had withtheir wives, and now without them, might come up then. It was hard for himstill, some of that. But he'd got hold of the drinking after a little while,hardly drank at all now, smoked a bit much perhaps...Still, always had, itwent with the patch.

***

Joanne Kepler was very involved in her uncle’s life, Claire reported back later. 'But it hasn't always been so...'

'By the way,' she remembered then, to ask him, 'did he remember if Joan King had got hold of Jonathon Livingston's name through them?' Hedidn't know?

'Back to Ivan now.' More interested now to know more of how Ivanhad got by since losing his wife as well?



Some story this would develop into for him then, for Joanne's mother,Ivan’s sister, had walked out of Joanne's life when she had been veryyoung. So young in fact, that she would have no memory of her, now, if her mother was still alive, wherever?

'Vienna then,' George automatically wondered?'Then,' Claire went on, 'after his wife had died, years later, Joanneturned up in his life, then. Get this, she sought him out after seeing a deathnotice, his wife's, and then another that her mother had apparently placed aswell. Only she hadn't, Ivan had, on her part...'

***

George, sharing his thoughts later with Claire, surmised, that unlesssomething else happened soon, then he imagined that he might soon startreceiving hints from upstairs to leave the enquiry alone then. That thiskilling had the markings of something very underhand indeed, to him. Not alocal conspiracy at all, he was convinced by then, with no good reason tosay why either?

***

Several days later, and when no one was taking any notice of him, JonathonLivingston drowned in a bath in the flat at 9 Tenet St. An empty bottle of sleeping pills, of recent prescription, were found placed neatly beside the

bath. No note was left behind, that might explain why he had drownedhimself? 'Suicide,' George wondered? 'Or murder again?' That would not beso easily determined this time...

***

In a huddle, Friday after, at the pub, the Boars Head , the team followed thisup, before the weekend, George and Claire off then, with some discussion.

There it unfolded that when Bill Waters had finally decided to check the non-appearance of Jonathon Livingston at the usual places aroundlunchtime that day, he had then, last of all, checked his flat.

And it was there, where he had finally found Mr Livingston, in his bath, flat out drowned, after giving the back door a nudge.

This flat, pertinent maybe also, so far as Claire was concerned, likeWilliam Symmes flat over the road, opposite, had been just as thoroughly



cleaned. The smell of cleaning agents similar to her nose as well.And, to add to that, George's concern was that they weren't the only

agency interested in these deaths, now, the only thing not in its place in theLivingston flat when Waters searched it after finding Livingston, a computer

box, lain out side down on the study carpet, the hard drive of the computer,obviously, ripped out. Ripped out, or taken out, that was the which nowwhich concerned George?

The only possible productive course then was, George decided finally,after they'd all ripped the case apart a little in turn, apart from asking theusual obvious questions of neighbours, of course, and, of course, finallyquestioning Joanne Kepler about her walk with Jonathon Livingston now,would be to see if the hard drive of that computer had been taken inanywhere for repair then, for replacement even, under some warranty, it wasa long shot...? By Livingston? He might have? But wouldn't he have takenthe box in as well then? After all he did have a car, didn't he, he had madesomething of that to Claire, hadn't he. That said, this car, where was it then,what sort, was it outside?

Price could chase that up, George decided now. But first he couldcheck if any of the cars that David Wenter had hired had ever been parkedovernight on the weekends outside the flat that Joanne had let him.

Price was pleased to be given the task of checking on this, other bits of the case more interesting to him now. A little lift in his step, George thought,as well? Leonie, he'd heard.

At least he hadn’t been taken to task over not keeping a better eye onJonathon Livingston. Waters had, too bad. Not that even if he had beentracked to his flat sooner it would have made any difference anyway,

probably?You can't sit with a case, got to keep moving though, he had come out

with at the pub, Waters trying to get out of something. Still they'd not

exactly been at red alert over any persons of interest yet.Left to it as well now, bout time he got a bit of head, Price decided, he

would start at the bottom of the street and work his way back up, all theweekend coming, if need be.

Still, he would have to call again, he knew, sometime, on any residentsthat weren’t in when he called, even if he called on them twice over thecoming weekend. Everyone in the street, that was the task, had to be asked if they remembered any of the hire cars parked nights over the last four

weekends.



***

Claire was surprised, at the funeral of Jonathon Livingston, to see Joan Kingthere. George hated funerals, and so she was the one always sent. Not that

she enjoyed them much herself. But it was a fact though, that much couldsometimes be learned from them.When Claire talked with Joan King afterwards she said she had

decided, even though she had only met him under less than ordinarycircumstances, to pay her respects anyway. She wondered if perhaps what hehad found that morning had played on his mind? It had certainly played onhers, she said, but it hadn't kept her awake nights. 'Worse happens all thetime, overseas.'

'Yes,' Claire went along with that, for then.

***

It had taken Price some time to work up and back down Tenet Street theSaturday. He would have to call back at some of the addresses before hefinally felt he had something worthy to offer George again. 'Good job again,'he felt.

There was, Price had told George Monday first thing, no resident of Tenet Street with a clear memory of any cars in particular being parked,over-night’s weekends outside 10 Tenet Street, the last five or so. Thoughsome had said there might have been, when he had mentioned the colour red.

There was now something else that might interest George though.George said nothing, didn’t interrupt him, just listened. When Price hadfinished, all George said was that he could leave that now, which Pricereally didn’t want to do then, bearing in mind what he’d just told George.

Still, George thought, said, he should get onto tracking down thatcomputer’s hard drive now if possible, which Price really didn’t want to donow.

***

It didn’t surprise George that Joanne Kepler didn’t attend the funeral. Andhe would leave her alone till after that as well. Nor did funerals do much for

him.The day after the funeral he finally decided to ask her about Jonathon



Livingston again though. And to ask her about that walk she been seentaking with him as well then, if she kept denying that she had known him.

***

But when he called at her work place he had been told that she hadn’t beenin for the last three days. He found her at her flat. He said he was sorry tointrude. But that as there was no obvious reason for Mr Tim taking his life,he wondered if she might be able to help him, then? She did know him,didn't she...

'Yes,' she finally admitted it, she did know him. And she said she probably could explain some things. She had known him a little, a bit morelately, she had been seeing a bit more of him than before.

Before then, when they knew each other, it was just to nod to really.He had been unhappy, for sure, lately. She hadn't meant to lead him on, she'd

been lonely herself, and so she'd allowed him back home with her oneevening. Truth was he'd been no good when she'd taken him upstairs though,no other way of putting it.

Then on one particular day he had called at her office and she had beenforced to join him for a walk. He was so unhappy about things betweenthem. He had said so.

She had been quite busy really and had not really wanted to do that,the walk, the talk okay. On reflection, she shouldn't have, she felt now.. Shecouldn’t imagine that he would have taken his life over her, but she felt badanyway.

***

There was more, for she couldn’t remember if George had asked her if she

knew Jonathon before, she said then, but if he had, and she had said shedidn’t, then she was sorry for that as well. But she hadn’t, at that time,wanted to talk to anyone about Jonathon, really. Poor bloke.

George said he could understand, and then asked her if she knew whathad happened to Jonathon's car then, his old red Jaguar that George knew allabout now, that was normally parked on the road outside his flat.

Joanne said she was surprised that George didn’t already know aboutthat, considering. Jonathon’s car had been stolen from outside his flat that

weekend, just before the Monday when he'd found that body in the bin, thatSaturday night in fact, before then.



And the she added that that was why, in fact, he had been up so earlythat Monday morning also, when he found the body, making sure he couldfind a bus that would get him to work on time as well, it having been a whilesince he'd bussed anywhere. That also, then, why he had been walking by

the building site the night before, the Sunday, when he had heard, he hadtold her, what he remembered the next morning to investigate, A crash and a boom from within that bin.

Finished, George asked her why she was surprised he didn’t know thatJonathon’s car had been stolen?

'Because,' she replied, 'the theft of the car on the Saturday night had been reported to the police the Sunday morning before the bashing.'

'Bashing...' George thought, how would she know that?

***

Price, since set on it, had been spending his time since George had lasttalked to him phoning computer repair businesses everywhere and gettingnowhere.

When George finally managed to get through to him, George told himthen what he’d found out from Joanne Kepler about the Jaguar. He alsowanted to know what else had happened that weekend, that he didn’t knowabout?

'Plenty of the usual,' had happened that weekend, Price told him whenhe got back to George later, pleased to have got a break from the computer related calls.

Apart from Jonathon Livingston's car being reported stolen, fromoutside his flat, Jonathon Livingston had not owned that car for that longeither, a notation on the file, if that interested him. Perhaps that may havegone some way towards explaining some downturn in mood that Jonathon

Livingston may have experienced before he killed himself as well then?Price didn't know, couldn't say. The coroner might like that, anyway, if he's awestie once, himself?

'The car...''No, that still hasn’t turned up yet.''Okay. Anything else?'

***

Well, there was nothing else that even remotely coincided with what had



happened in Newmarket that weekend as it turned out, that George hadfound out from Price.

But, if George wished, he could check, if it interested him, into thereported disappearance of a teenager in Titirangi that same weekend, out

West?There was also the fatal accident that had occurred at the beach nearbyto where that teenager had lived as well...'on the same night...'

‘Not a red car though, I don’t suppose?’‘No sir.’‘Anyway, Titirangi, you say,’ George wanted to know more, now, one

part of Titirangi, French Bay, close to his heart, his fishing heart anyway.'Look…for the time being, leave what you’re doing now and look into

this Titirangi business as well will you. And let me know if any red cars turnup anywhere out there as well, won't you. Or anywhere,' he rung off.

'Yes sir,' Bill hummed, George already gone, and so he, DetectiveConstable Donald Price, punched in the number for those files again,

pleased when he a got a, 'yes sir,' back to that request again as well.

***

The first file, he'd but glanced at this before, contained statements made bythe missing boy’s parents and by some of his friends. Action taken: All thetracks and bush areas nearby had been searched not only by a police teamfrom out west, but also by family and friends.

The file on the fatal accident showed that that accident had happenedon the same night that the boy had disappeared. Now he wondered if theywere linked, linked even to their main case at the moment? Not red though,the car that had crashed into the Pohutukawa tree by the ramp had beenwhite. The covers on the files were green which signified incomplete or

unsolved.Bill read through the statements again. He then moved the files, one to

either side of his desk. In front of himself he placed a blank piece of paper.He sharpened a pencil.

Then he wrote down the names of all those that had given statementsconcerning the disappearance of the boy. Also, the name of every searcher that had helped look for him. He then put a question mark beside the namesthat he decided he would check first. He then reached for his keyboard,

typed in his password and got into it.When he had finished he placed the keyboard back on top of the



console again. He got a coffee, two sugars, picked up the phone again, andthis time punched in the number for his boss.

'Boss,' he argued, when he thought he wasn't going to get his own waywith this, 'It could be called a job pending, could be squared with the

seventh floor that way then...Couldn’t it?' The only plea he left off then, being please. Space...'S'pose,' George said, definitely more well disposed to Price these

days. 'Come up,' hung up.

***

Price put his case carefully to the Magistrate that George had recommendedhe approach for the warrants. A boy had disappeared and he had disappearednearby to where a fatal accident had occurred, the same night.

If the driver of the car that had crashed into the Pohutukawa tree hadhit the boy, killed him then, maybe, then it was difficult to see why someoneelse would hide his body then? That driver of that car had died and so itcouldn’t have been him that hid any body, could it?

Where was he then, this boy? Even if he had caused the accident, say,that he had been standing on the bend, the car had taken evasive action then,lost control, the boy could still have gone home to bed, if he was scared for his own sake then.

The accident having occurred the same night the boy disappeared hadobscured something potentially very serious, Price put it then, thedisappearance of that lad. And, by not following up on the disappearance of that boy using normal procedure, things had gone from bad to worse then.

The search that Price therefore wished to lead now, then, was of thatlads friends place, Kenny, as that should have been done by now as well. Asearch of another address, the address of one other boy of interest, he would

advise as well, also in keeping with general procedure. He would get hisway.

***

Young, too young to rush in on, perhaps, Kenny had the sort of form thatinterested police officers generally. Every school had had one, they'd allknown one. That aside, persons like Kenny were generally short-term

offenders, after school. They weren’t bright, never had been, and so theydidn’t cover their tracks very well. They didn’t go far either, to commit their



crimes. Which meant they were also always at hand to be interviewedshortly after. They didn't range very far, and if they got embedded in acommunity they became a real nuisance.

That being the case, kids like Kenny could also be said to have another

sort of nuisance value. In that even if they were not involved inmisdemeanour’s committed in their area, they usually kept company attimes with whoever had, maybe even benefiting in some way materially aswell. Leaning on any of them over anything in particular, in this case onKenny over the disappearance of Neville, usually got results. Plus it wasalways nice to be able to have a look around so as to see how it was the likesof Kenny were getting by.

***

After they had thoroughly searched Kenny’s room, as well as the rest of his parent’s home, Bill had then asked Kenny’s parents if they would mind if Kenny came back to the station with them then,one of them as well, for aninformal chat about the disappearance of Neville...

Price apologised for the mess then, standard, and said he didn’t think they’d need to come back again. Someone would definitely have to come inthough, within the next 24 hours, to the station. Kenny’s father was not

pleased. Getting Kenny into the car was no problem after that discussion, hecouldn't wait to get away from home.

***

Waters, after searching the other boys house, and having a quiet chat, hadcome back to the station with a story as well. One that had been goingaround at the boy’s school.

Kenny had, apparently, told anyone that had asked him, that Neville’sdisappearance had had something to do with them crossing some heavies.This story, apparently, was widely believed at school as well.

George, told that, liked that as well. That would be their way in then.He stood aside, told Price to go in with that first.

‘Tell me Kenny,’ Price asked him then, ‘about Neville and theheavies?’

Kenny, shot an upwards look, looked caught short already. ‘Who told

you about that, them, what..?’'We ask the questions, Kenny,' George cut in. 'International heavies



then, were they?’'Course not,' Kenny, feeling he had some ground now, hoped that this

was all all this would be about then, said, 'I made that up, didn't I. I had tosay something about it, didn't I.' Kenny wasn't lying either. How could he

get caught out then!'Why's that Kenny? Why'd you have to make something up? The truthtoo heavy for you to bear sharing?’

'No, course not. Everyone had been asking me, had to saysomething...to stop that. I’ve even been questioned by the cops about it,

before you, the westie lot, when we were searching for him. I just want thequestions to stop, honest. That’s all. And that worked at school. I honestly,you’ve got to believe me, don’t know what happened to him.'

'Honestly, eh?' Price then.'So what are you going to tell us then, Kenny?' George quietly cut in

again, shuffling David Wenter's driver’s license with the credit card that hadalso been found in Kenny's bedroom.

'Everything,' Kenny said then, scared. 'Everything. Neville got a car from somewhere. I’ll show you where, he showed me after he picked me up,we drove round. That's all.'

'Show me then,' George stood up.

***

On the question of his movements that vital weekend, Ivan Kepler, after Waters had picked him up and brought him in, told George again, that theonly time he had left the property that Saturday, was when he had had to gointo work, 'for a while.'

Then he repeated, he had arrived home again that day, the Saturday,about 7pm. That Saturday was also the only time, so far as he had seen

anyone, that he had had any visitors that weekend. Joanne and her friend, inthe old Jaguar.

'Yes, the red one...Saturday morning...'Someone had left two bottles of claret at his front door though, while

he was at the office, 'for that short while.' He noticed these when he returnedhome.

'Yes, 7-ish, again.''No,' he didn’t know who? But, he assumed then, that that had been

Joanne again. Though, when she next visited him, the Friday before, latish,after he had offered a glass, thanked her, she had said that it hadn’t been her,



them, after all.'Who it was then, I still don't know? An old friend perhaps?'

***

The next morning, the Sunday, Ivan going through that again, then, he hadhad his fall, about 10am. He had been rushing, intending to load at leastsome bracken and fern into the bin before it was taken away. He hadexpected them to collect it late in the day, the day before, that was thearrangement. He could hardly believe his luck that it was still there comeSunday morning. And so he had been rushing, fallen at the first branchthough.

After his fall, in quite some pain, he had driven to the medical centrein New Lynn to get himself checked over. He was very sore. Checked over he had got back home around midday Sunday then. And had then taken tohis bed as well. No one, so far as he knew, had called at all that day exceptwhoever had come to collect the bin. It was gone by then.

George then asked him what had happened to the wine that had justturned up then? Ivan told him then that he was on the second bottle, a littleleft of the first though, if he'd like to call round and check it and chat?

Better than that, George put it to him then, could Claire see him home personally then? And perhaps bring those bottles back to the station after that, as well then?

'What for,' was the look back of course, the question asked though,George also said then that he wouldn't mind if the last one was near empty

before Claire brought that one back as well.He could try a bit of both then? Bemused, Ivan Kepler readily agreed.

***

It took another day, a little more delay on the part of Joanne Kepler, butGeorge finally got through to her by placing the two empty wine bottles infront of her in the interview room.

'Did she recognise them?'.She didn’t think so, she said, 'Not especially,' though she grew more

cautious of George then, more cautious than she had ever seemed before,and this was more noticeable now to Claire as well.

'Too late,' thought Claire.George, cleared his throat, offered Joanne a smoke, she took it this



time. He then told her that prints on one of the bottles were JonathonLivingston's. 'Would that surprise you?' It did.

'Also, on both of them,' next, 'there are prints belonging to your uncle,your uncle who lives in Titirangi...' letting that sink in.

'Now,' he said, 'because of that, we now know that you and Jonathondropped both these bottles off there. That being on a Saturday then, later inthe day probably, when Ivan was in at work, you didn't hang round longthen...that the Saturday preceding Jonathon finding that man dead in that binin Newmarket as well then, the Monday morning after that.'

'This you have denied as well, when asked by your uncle. He,' George,'wondered why now? Also, there are several more unidentified prints on the

bottles, at least one of which I am sure will be yours. So, it's just a matter of my deciding now what to charge you with, so as I can lawfully confirm this.Comprendez, get me?'

She did, indicated that she wanted some time to think.

***

It wasn't long before Joanne Kepler decided then, that she would tell themmore now, more about Jonathon, anyway.

She hadn't known Jonathon that well nor for that long, she said then.She had met him one night, in a bar come café, where she'd been out, with agirl friend. It had been this friend, really, that had known him, in passing,anyway. But once introduced he had seemed interested in her then, also. Andto begin with, well around then, she had been a little interested in him aswell...There was a knock at the interview room door.

***

During the pause Joanne reflected again...So far as she was concerned it had been an accident really, nothing, really, that she should be reproached over either. It had got complicated though.

They had arrived at Uncle Ivan's later that day, as this George Te Rupahas guessed, after an afternoon of tasting at several nearby wineries. Theyhad dropped a couple of bottles off to Ivan, yes. They might have had adrink together then, let him get to know Jonathon a bit better then, he'ddefinitely been part of the scene.

Ivan hadn’t been in, which had been unexpected. After leaving thewine by the front door they had left again.



Feeling let down a little, Joanne had then decided that it was her turnto drive again, Jonathon’s old red car, his new old possession, socomfortable inside. She had driven, recklessly, yes, hoping to frighten thelife out of Jonathon a little, as well. Hoping to feel a little bit more alive

then, herself, not so connected to her needs. Down the drive they had flown,she driving, laughing at Jonathon.She remembered, then, vaguely, hoping that she wouldn’t run into her

uncle returning from wherever he had been, then, but worried only a littleabout that, she was just half way round the last bend before the drivewayswung again to meet the road, when she saw someone, a man, in front of her. He hadn’t heard them.

He had had his jacket pulled up over his head and had been backingout onto the driveway when she had hit him, head on. It had been sickening,not her fault. Jonathon had been sick. After dragging the man out fromunder the front of the car, he had pushed through a stand of silver ferns

beside the driveway himself, and had been sick there, she had heard himretching. She hadn’t felt too well herself.

Jonathon had got very worried then, over that passport business again.Who was this man? Claire had recognised him. He had been followingthem, trying to put something together then.

***

She would tell George then, when he returned to the interview room, aboutthe accident, that much anyway, and she did.

'We were out wine tasting that afternoon. We visited Ivan earlier,Uncle, just to say hullo. We were out that way. He's on his own, mostly,these days. He'd been intending to get on with some clearing up there, he'dgot in a bin, we left him to it.'

'Yes,' she would have a cigarette.'That man, Jonathon had said, we did hit him, run him down. Well,

Jonathon did. He must have been stalking me or something, Jonathonreckoned. I had let Number 10 to him. You know that. I recognised him.Even Jonathon did, said he had seen him coming and going from Number 10. Jonathon drove too fast down the driveway. He hit him. I told him toslow down but he wouldn't. I was worried about my uncle returning. Wemight have hit him. Instead, we hit that guy. He had been backing out onto

the driveway, his jacket over his head, the dampness off the fern leaves, Iguess, he hadn't even heard us coming then!'



'So, we put the injured man into the back of the car, not thinking for amoment of leaving him there. We were going to take him down to thehospital, I thought. Then Jonathon said that it was too late, he's dead.'

After that, he hadn’t told her what he had done with the car. She had

been trying to get him to talk to the police about it ever since, the morningof that walk in the park even. He had said he was going to then as well. Had promised her, but it seemed he had killed himself instead. The bin, that wassome coincidence.

'Sure was,' George thought, not much more we can do with all thisnow, some confession this was, but it was something at last, anyway. Fish allday sometime... George excused himself and went up to the seventh floor torelate this to his boss.

He was not at all sure how responsible he could make her for what hadhappened the way she had explained it.

Had he clocked her by the way? Yes Madden had.

***

Amongst others that had moved to Auckland from Wellington once had beenJohn Madden, now George Te Rupa’s boss. Chief Inspector Madden had

been a student at Victoria where he had completed a philosophy degree withhonours. This had made him the pragmatist that he was. Almost everythingwas as relative to him now, as it had once been impressed on him that it wasthen.

The mention of the name Kepler, mentioned to him earlier in theenquiry, had summoned up the memory of Jean, pragmatist or no. Truthwas, he had never forgotten her.

She had moved on before he had finished his studies, hadn't completedhers either, had left him behind. She hadn't even said goodbye. Or perhaps

she had, in her own way? The flat had been left spotless, not a sign of her ever having been there.

Yes he had been a member of the police force then. But so what he hadtold Jean. He hadn't been the first policeman ever encouraged to study. Still,he had often wondered, why, fresh from university, no issue was ever raisedwith him over his involvement with campus causes then, while he was withJean.

Yet it seemed few cared, by then, that was the answer to that. Someone

had retired, been retired finally. A real McCarthyite he had been, a nazisome said, even?



He had heard this staggering story later, not long after Jean left, thatshe had arrived in Auckland and had had a child there as well, a daughter, itmust have been his. He had tried, soon after that, to find her then, but hadnot succeeded.

***

The business at hand, back to that, Madden suggested then that George ask Joanne Kepler how she might plead if she was charged with withholdinginformation which might have helped police with enquiries?

After all, she might not directly be able to be linked to what hadhappened after they had run into him. That man, had, after all again, beenalive and in the hands of this Jonathon Livingston then, and there wasnothing to contradict that. And there had to be some sort of finality as well,as regards the case of the man found dead in the bin.

***

When George reported back to his boss not too long after that conversation,he told him that he had put that to Joanne Kepler, and that she had said shewould plead guilty to that, to that if she was put before the court.

'Book her and bail her then, 'Chief Inspector John Madden said to that.'And when you’ve done that a little fishing might be in order also.

'Coming then,' George asked him?''Give me a minute, or two, will you. I'll catch up with you.' He began

to straighten up his desk, George closed the door behind him.

***

After George left John Madden waited a while, rose, straightened up his tie,then walked to the lift. When Joanne Kepler emerged from the building atground level, he was waiting for her. He eyed her up and down. Shewondered what he had seen in her, why?

'Your mother,' he caught up to her halfway across the car park, 'your mother’s name wasn’t Jean was it?’

'No, her name is Joan, like mine.' Well, what else could she say? Andwhat if they did make that connection one day?

'Last name then, your mother?'Blast, this was getting more uncomfortable, now. Well, what else could



she say, again? 'King,' then.‘Very well then,' Madden said, plainly not entirely satisfied either.''Mustn’t hold you then...'That was it, her mother would definitely have to go away back now.,,

***

Kenny had noticed the bits of glass and car wreckage on the bend the dayafter Neville disappeared. These were all but dispersed and had been by thevehicles that had attended the accident that he had heard had happeneddown there the night before.

But that didn’t then, and never did register with him, as havinganything to do with why his friend hadn’t caught the bus to school with himthat Monday morning.

When he was asked two days later by the police if he had any ideawhat had happened to his friend, he had said that he didn’t, and that wastrue.

On the Friday, having decided to hang onto the credit card thateventually saw police solve part of the puzzle as regards the appearance of the dead man in the bin, Kenny delivered the binoculars and the sunglassesthat he had also taken from the car to the buyers he had contracted for themat school. He had left the passport \in the car. Maybe Neville was using it?They had also wanted to know what had happened to Neville? So did he, buthe didn't.

And so, he had told them, at school, that Neville and he had recentlycrossed some heavies out west. So, he had to watch what he said then and towhom. Otherwise they could be in danger as well. By lunch-time he was thelegend that he still is.

***

The old red Jaguar turned up after Joanne was charged. Someone had parkedit that night in the car park just behind a newly completed building in

Newmarket, the last bin removed by Goodmans that afternoon. The callalerting the police too its presence there was phoned in anonymously.Another lose end tied up...

Somewhat damaged at the front it was scrupulously clean inside, eventhe black vinyl top had been polished.



Paint scrapings matched scrapings found on the clothing of theunclaimed body of the man found in the bin, but that enquiry had been all

but shut down by then. Details relating to the disappearance of Neville had been filed as well, closed until he surfaces?

***

After charging Joanne George hadn't gone fishing. Instead his boss hadcaught him on his way out and asked if they could have a drink instead,down at the Boars Head . The tide hadn't been right anyway, high in at noon.

Thus, he repaired the mesh of his net evenings the rest of that week,and in the early evening Saturday till a little late, the tide just starting to turnin, he and his nephew Tim, got in a little netting by lantern off the point atWood bay, splitting the catch, more than a few flounder each.

The following weekend all was more propitious for the boat though,the tide rising all afternoon, and so Madden and he were to meet at FrenchBay just after two, Saturday. The boat launched they then nipped out andaround the point to where a deep channel wound nearby as well. There,Georges said, they would drift fish till dusk.

'Your spot this then, of late?' Madden asked. He hadn't been here withGeorge before. No comment to that, none expected either.

George did have something for Madden though, after they got their lines down.

'This Joan King,' he fidgeted, 'we checked this for you. We had one, asI told you the afternoon you asked, at the Boars Head , that afternoon after we charged Joanne Kepler. And, we had her as a witness for a while also, asI said, the woman with the dog who came along after Livingston found our man in the bin. But here's the rub, there...when Claire went to talk to her again, following this up for you, she'd gone, flew out the day after we

booked Joanne, landed up in Vienna finally as well, that place again There,she seems to have disappeared...?

'A bit more on Joanne though, we've checked there as well. Seems shewas brought up by someone named King, his name Adam, mother notaround then.

'A bit more for you though, I got interested in this myself Clalre came back to me with that. There is in Vienna a Kepler as well, a Jean also. Butshe's not left there for years.'

***



Well, at least Madden knew that much now. That said conversation dried upsomewhat for quite some while after that, till near dusk. Till George sworehe'd finally caught something then as well.

Whether he had or not his line soon went slack. It could have been ashark, they'd been caught near there before; it could have been a stingray?Whatever, it had been a dead weight, anyway. His hook, line and sinker were gone.

Now George looked about. The dusk beckoning, the beacons blinking,he knew that ships wouldn't pass by them if they stayed out there muchlonger. Rather they would roll over them if they came along. And after thatno one would even know they were down there.

***

Out, over the bay, boomed a tune from some shack hidden by trees. Itsounded like Cat Steven's, faded away with, 'there's a way, and I know, Ihave to go...

'Yes,' George knew, 'In, we must, sooner rather than later...'Out there Madden's take was different. Having caught the end of the

tune, just, he had almost remembered the beginning then. But then that hadfaded also. There would be no more of that. He would go to Vienna himself now...

'It isn't over yet...'

the disappearance of neville

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