7. The Small Town with Big
Secrets

On the evening of Tuesday 20 September 1921, Arthur Kennedy addressed a packed Auckland Town Hall. Recently returned to New Zealand, he told the enthralled audience about his 20 years working in the tea plantations of India and Ceylon. He concluded his talk with a warning to the government that if they were to allow the free immigration for Indians—Parsee, Hindu, Mohammedan, it did not make any difference to him—they would arrive in hordes, get about in loin cloths, and set up squalid shanty huts in Auckland. And there would inevitably be mixed marriages and a huge increase in the prevalence of venereal disease. He also suggested censoring letters written to and received by Hindus already in New Zealand to and from their loved ones in India.

It is unthinkable now that an opinion that extreme could be voiced publicly without causing national outrage, yet extracts of Kennedy’s speech were published in newspapers nationwide as a lesson in culture—at that time, such comments were considered acceptable, even informative.

Indians began migrating to New Zealand in the late nineteenth century and were subject to racial discrimination from the moment they arrived. In the 1890s, there was an outcry in parliament over the ‘menace of itinerate Hindoo Hawkers’. Indian traders travelled the country attempting to sell often worthless wares and their persistence was seen by many as rudeness. The hawkers often had doors slammed in their faces in anger.

Times were tough—the country was in a major recession. Tolerance was low—in a letter to the editor of a major newspaper the door-to-door hawkers were likened to ‘annoying insects’. As a result, the Undesirable Hawkers Prevention Bill (1896) was passed to restrict their movement in and around the country, but it did not prevent immigration. Three years later, the Immigration Restriction Act (1899) made it possible to exclude Indians from entering the country, by imposing English competency tests on new migrants, but loopholes were there to be exploited and the act was difficult to enforce.

Things settled and, in general, Indians were accepted and integrated into communities and reported cases of racial abuse and prejudice were few until after the Great War, when disgruntled Pukekohe farmers formed the ‘White New Zealand league’ to protest against a seemingly large number of Indian families buying land in the region to establish market gardens. This was the first organised opposition and the League quickly found sympathy in many parts of New Zealand.

With rising unemployment and growing economic unrest, public meetings throughout the country were demanding the government impose restrictions on immigration. Returned servicemen believed they had a right to secure land for farming through the Land Settlement scheme, but there was not enough land available. Whatever the reason, Indians were blamed for buying land and taking over. In response, the Immigration Restriction Amendment Act (1920) was passed unanimously, setting a limit on the number of adult male Indians who could enter New Zealand each year.

Nana Chhiba, a Hindu born on 19 January 1900, in Surat, Bombay arrived in New Zealand in 1917. He was the youngest of four brothers. He married at the age of 13 and worked in his father’s business for several years. He and his brothers all had business aspirations and decided they could make their collective and, later, respective fortunes in Australia or New Zealand. In 1917, the Chhiba brothers—Bhana, Bhika, Govind and Nana—sailed to New Zealand and settled in Wanganui.

They quickly established the fruiterers, B David and Co. Thanks to their collective hard work and business acumen, the venture was highly successful and their business expanded opening shops throughout Taranaki and the central North Island. However, another Hindu from the same caste as the Chhibas had already opened a fruit shop in Wanganui. This led to bitter rivalry that worsened when B David and Co. began to offer cheaper prices and more choice. In 1924, Bhika was badly beaten in the street by members of the rival family. On another occasion, Govind complained of being beaten and threatened with a knife.

In 1926, the brothers decided to split their partnership and divide their capital. As his share of the sale, Nana received £6000, but he thought he should receive £12,000. Believing he had been swindled by his brothers, he broke off all personal ties with them. Reluctantly, he continued a business relationship of sorts, limited to them occasionally assisting in his new store as required—his brothers felt there was a code of honour requiring them to help each other. But now, they had amassed great individual fortunes and each had their own interests. They continued to buy and sell land together and individually throughout Wanganui.

In 1927, Nana returned to India. While he was away he received word his brothers had made a great deal of money selling a piece of land they had purchased together, without him. He was extremely jealous and this created more of a division between them.

The first thing Nana did upon returning to his village of Mataud, near Bombay, was to call a meeting of the village elders. In accordance with their custom, he requested a divorce from his wife whom he had not seen since abandoning her when he left for New Zealand. He then spent several months in India tying up his affairs. He even married another young girl, but returned to New Zealand without her.

In 1926, Nana and Bhana had established a small fruit store in the Taranaki township of Hawera and had installed a relative to manage the store. On his return to New Zealand in May 1928, Nana bought out Bhana’s interests in the Hawera store and secured a valuable, freehold shop at the intersection of High Street and Union Street. He planned to operate the business himself. Six months later, he purchased larger premises further along High Street. The new location was ideal—it had a large shop front, a living area and kitchen behind the shop, and a loft upstairs, which he converted into sleeping quarters.

Nana Chhiba quickly became a highly respected member of the local community. He even received nominations for the local council. He was openly supportive of his community, providing employment for local lads and donating fruit to the poor.

He had numerous friends—Pakeha and Maori alike. The locals called him ‘David’, adopting the name of his shop. It seemed the only fly in the ointment was Chhiba Gopal Panchia, who had managed David’s in Wanganui but moved to Hawera in March 1926 to branch out on his own. His shop, Patel Brothers Fruiterers, was virtually opposite Nana’s new premises in High Street. The small township was not big enough to sustain two Hindu fruiterers and they became bitter rivals. Panchia was more aggressive and said he was determined to ‘run Nana out of Dodge’. Nana, however, was more cunning than the uneducated youngster and dropped his prices, knowing Panchia would struggle with the competition. Nana also donated speckled fruit to widows, local pig farmers and swagmen passing through town. He was always willingly to help and contributed to local causes.

When he took over the business in Hawera, he resolved to make a completely fresh start. He estranged himself from other Indians, refusing to employ his countrymen. Instead, he employed local lads fresh out of school, who used his shop as a stepping stone to other jobs. The boys thought Nana was ‘a good sort’—he was funny, easy-going and not at all strict with them. Plus, Nana was a poor record-keeper and it was easy to pinch money from the till or from any number of places around the house where he had poorly hidden stashes of notes. Whether or not he knew, Nana never reprimanded any of them.

Nana got along well with everyone and enjoyed pranks. He happily supplied the lads with alcohol and as much fruit as they desired. As a result, the store was a popular place for the lads to hang out and Nana was never short of employees. Whenever one boy left, he would have a friend lining up to replace him.

Meanwhile, Nana never forgave his brothers for swindling him. Only Bhana and Bhika remained in Wanganui and Govind had moved to nearby Stratford to open another branch of David’s. In April 1930, Nana caught up with Bhana and received £9000 for the sale of some land he had invested in. Nana was furious as he had been excluded from the decision to sell and, once again, he had expected more money than he was given. Nana used £2500 of the money to take out an insurance policy with AMP and gave Bhana power of attorney over his affairs.

It was common knowledge in Hawera that Nana was a reasonably wealthy man, despite his bitter complaints to customers about how his brothers had swindled him. Nobody knew where Nana invested the rest of the £9000 of his savings, although he also owned the Rotorua branch of B David and Co. He received the profits from that business in cash.

Several boys spoke of Nana planning a trip overseas in 1935 and said they had seen him exchange cash for Bank of England notes—his preferred currency when travelling abroad—which was also still legal tender in New Zealand, although was more customarily traded on the black market. It was popularly rumoured he kept large wads of cash in a safe in his sleeping quarters upstairs.

Nana enjoyed running a successful business during tough economic times. He also enjoyed closing his store on Saturday nights with the anticipation of Sundays off. Every Sunday Nana would pack a picnic lunch into the basket on his bicycle and pedal four kilometres to Waihi Beach. He would spend the day looking out over the Tasman and walking along the beach before returning home around 3pm.

He was sociable during the week and often invited locals and travelling merchants to drink stout and share a meal. Gordon McCutcheon worked for Garton and Co, Fruit Merchants in Hastings and was a regular supplier of fruit and vegetables to Nana and his brothers. On Thursday 29 January 1931, McCutcheon visited Nana and enjoyed several bottles of stout while they discussed business. Over dinner, Nana suggested McCutcheon sleep in his spare room—it was late and they were both affected by the liquor. McCutcheon declined, having already booked into the Royal Hotel. Nana complained again that night about not receiving his fair share from land and business dealings with his brothers. He also said Patel was pestering him to sell-out.

The next day, Friday 30 January, some of Patel’s workers were creating a din outside David’s and Nana told them to take their argument elsewhere. He believed this was deliberately staged to annoy him. When the young men refused to move on, a scuffle ensued. Rogers*, one of Nana’s boys, called Constable Healey who arrested the men for disorderly behaviour.

On Saturday 31 January 1931, Rogers commented to Nana that he had expected to be rushed off his feet with people heading to the beach, the Egmont Races and the Druids’ Picnic. Instead, it was an unusually slow day for business. Rogers hadn’t been at David’s long—he had just replaced one of his chums who had got a full-time job in New Plymouth. Rogers thought Nana was not his usual affable self—he seemed distant that day and he couldn’t understand why business was slow. Also, the confrontation with the Patel boys the day before had shaken him, and he may have been expecting more trouble.

It was sweltering that afternoon. Rogers wedged the back door open, using the tomahawk from the kitchen, and he used a meat cleaver to prop open the door between the living room and the shop. He stopped for tea at 5.30pm. When he returned, Nana cleared the shop till and took the cash upstairs to count, ready for the evening trade. When he returned he confirmed the takings were down.

The evening trade was steady with late shoppers and people purchasing fruit before and after the pictures. At 8.00pm, Nana and Rogers were joined by 16-year-old Gordon*—another of Nana’s long-term employees who had recently moved on. He did, however, pop in on Saturdays to help with the evening trade and to close-up.

At 10.30pm, Constable Donovan was on his beat and saw Nana and the boys outside carrying the display crates inside and stacking them against the window. Donovan stopped for a few minutes to talk about the day. He thought Nana seemed cheerful—he said he was looking forward to his day off. Donovan asked if he had any more trouble from Chhiba Panchia, but Nana screwed up his face and said he had not seen him for a few days.

Nana usually closed up at 11pm on Saturdays. When Rogers washed up to leave he noticed the back door was still wedged open with the tomahawk. At around 11.05pm, a young man named Evans—another former employee who had moved to New Plymouth—called at the store. He needed some change and was pleased to see the shop was still open. He and Nana chatted for a few minutes and he left shortly after, noticing the shop was empty as he left. At 11.15pm, Gordon was out the back washing up when he heard voices out in front of the store. When he left, the back door was closed and the tomahawk was propped against a wall in the living room. As Gordon walked out Nana was sweeping the footpath and he asked Nana if he could borrow his bicycle the next day. Nana said he was riding his bike to the beach, so they bade each other good night and Gordon went home.

At 11.45pm, the Hawera night watchman cycled along High Street and noticed David’s was shut, but the window blind was raised. Although it was dark inside the shop, he could see the light on in the living room. Howells was about to call out, but he noticed the door was locked so changed his mind. At 12.05am, Constable Donovan passed the shop and also saw the living-room light was on. He tried the door, but it was locked.

Genevieve Pickett lived in Victoria Street—her back fence overlooked the backyard Nana shared with the drycleaning business next door. Mrs Pickett’s mother had owned the store and after she sold it to Nana she had been exasperated by the messy garden he kept. She chastised him, but Nana would laugh and say he would get around to it some time.

On Sunday 1 February, Mrs Pickett spent the day at the beach with her daughter. At 6pm, she was preparing dinner and realised she needed tomatoes. She climbed over the back fence and called out to David. As she neared the back door she noticed his bicycle propped up underneath the awning, which had come unfastened and almost completely covered the back door area. There was a wash basin outside the back door and she immediately noticed a tomahawk and hammer sitting in clear water. Mrs Pickett called out several times before pushing the back door open. She could hear something sizzling inside and assumed David was cooking dinner. She looked inside and was about to call out again when her eyes fixed on something. Suddenly, the door slammed shut.

Mrs Pickett went home in a daze and, at the dinner table, her concerned family asked her what was wrong. She stammered out something that seemed impossible—she thought she had seen a blood-splattered body on the floor at David’s. Her family said it was probably a pig or some other animal and it was probably something to do with a Hindu ritual. Mrs Pickett calmed slightly but could not erase the image of a blood-soaked human hand. She decided to call her solicitor who said he would pass the information to the local police.

Constable Healey was on duty at Hawera Police Station when he received a call that someone might be seriously hurt at David’s shop. He had walked past David’s several times earlier in the day and had not noticed anything unusual. He went straight around to check the rear of the premises and tried the door Mrs Pickett claimed had been ajar earlier. It was now locked. He knocked at the door but there was no response so he returned to the station.

When Constable Donovan came on duty at 9pm, Healey told him about the call so the two of them went to check at 9.15pm. By now it was dark and the light in the living room was on. The constables knocked on the back door then went around to the front, knocking and calling for David to open up. Once again, there was no response and they returned to the station.

As the evening wore on, Donovan became uneasy. He returned to David’s at 11pm. The shop was still locked and the living-room light was still on. Donovan called out again and there was no response. He tried the back door and this time it was unlocked. He opened the door and immediately saw a body lying face upwards in a large pool of blood on the floor in the middle of Nana’s living room. There was a mat covering the head and chest and blood splattered across all four walls.

Donovan carefully lifted the mat and identified the victim as Nana Chhiba. His face and head were covered in blood and there were a number of deep head wounds. The right arm was flung back at right angles to the body with the fingers half closed. The left arm was at his side. The head and right arm were lying in deep pools of blood. Donovan raced back to the police station and called for Sergeant Henry and Dr Sinclair, who came at once.

An initial examination of the scene found loose, black hairs on Nana’s forearms that matched the hair on his head. There were five visible head wounds.

There was a threepenny piece lying on the mat under his elbow. He had a knife, a gold chain with sovereign pendant, a nail file and a front-door key in his pockets. The right-side pocket of his coat was open and there were traces of blood on the inside of the left pocket. There were thick bloodstains on the outside of the right trouser pocket and more inside, as if a bloodied hand had reached into the pocket to remove something.

The splashes of blood on all four walls reached a height of 1.2 metres. There were large pools of blood on the floor to the right of the body and the newspaper in front of and under the body was splattered with blood. There were two empty cups on the table, suggesting the killer may have had a drink with Nana. There were 17 empty stout bottles under the table and another 16 were found in the bathroom.

The empty till was on a chair in the kitchen with a towel underneath it. It had been carefully removed. There was a blood-stained meat cleaver in corner of the living room. In the hand basin, half-filled with clean water, outside the back door, there was a hammer, tomahawk and a key ring with three keys on it.

After securing the scene, Sergeant Henry called New Plymouth and was instructed to wait for a detective to arrive. At 2am, Detective Arnold Mieklejohn arrived and approved the removal of Nana’s body to the morgue for a post mortem that was performed by Dr Sinclair and Dr Thomson.

They found four deep fractures in the skull and 11 serious scalp wounds—six of the wounds were almost certainly caused by blows with a hammer and five with a tomahawk.

The blows were so vicious they had to be made by a homicidal maniac or someone in a fit of passion. The depth and angles of the wounds suggested an attack from three different directions, but they appeared to have been delivered by one person.

Detective Mieklejohn checked the rear of the property. The weeds and tall grass in the neglected backyard clearly showed two trampled tracks leading to the back fence. One track went to the Pickett’s and had been made by Mrs Pickett. The other track went from the back door to the back fence where there was a private alley on the other side that led to High Street.

An examination of the basin and weapons found traces of hair on the head of the tomahawk that also matched the hair from Nana’s head. The water was strained and more hairs were found.

On the afternoon of 3 February, Senior Detective Thomas Quirke arrived from New Plymouth. His departure had been delayed by news of a devastating earthquake in Hawke’s Bay. A telegram had been sent to all police stations in the North Island requesting assistance and Quirke helped organise several uniformed police to travel to Napier. When Quirke finally arrived at David’s store, Mieklejohn and Constable Lemm were in the living room taking measurements of the blood splatters on the walls.

Together the detectives set to work. They quickly established that Nana was last seen by Gordon at around 11.15pm when he was closing the store. The night-watchman passed the store half an hour later and the shop was closed, although the living-room light was on. Constable Donovan found the same thing when he passed at 12.05am. Neither Donovan nor the night-watchman could tell who was in the living room, but both had assumed Nana was still awake.

The doctors estimated the time of death as approximately 12 hours before the body was discovered. This placed the time of death at around 11am, but it was conceded that it was more likely to have occurred in the early hours of Sunday morning.

There were no signs of forced entry or of a struggle. This suggested Nana knew his assailant—the cups and empty bottles suggested that they had shared a drink. The attack had been fast and ferocious. It was likely Nana had quickly lost consciousness—the position of the body indicated he had no time to defend himself.

Oddly, it appeared the assailant had remained in the store for much of the next day or, at least, returned some time in the afternoon to clean up and remove evidence. The alleged murder weapons had been cleaned and left in a basin of water when Mrs Pickett called at 6pm. The empty cups had been wiped clean—there were no fingerprints to be found. The assailant may have been preparing to dispose of Nana’s body when Mrs Pickett popped in. He may have then closed the door, locking it. He may have still been inside an hour later when Constable Healey found the back door was locked.

The assailant must have left some time between 9.15pm and 11pm—leaving over the back fence, down the alley and along High Street under cover of darkness. When Constables Healey and Donovan called at 9.15pm, the door was still locked. When Donovan returned at 11pm, the door was unlocked. It is difficult to imagine the killer being brazen enough to remain in the shop during the day at risk of being caught by one of Nana’s boys.

The empty till suggested robbery as the primary motive and it, too, had been wiped clean.

Rogers estimated they had cleared £5 over the course of Saturday, but Nana had taken the balance up at 6pm, leaving a float of £2.10s in change. He said there would have been between £7 and £10 in the till when they closed up that night. He also said a man had come in on Saturday afternoon with a handful of Bank of England notes that Nana had bought. Rogers and Gordon confirmed it was common knowledge that Nana was well off and it was rumoured he had a substantial amount of cash hidden upstairs. He was a prime target for a robbery.

The detectives finished the scene examination downstairs on 3 February and climbed the ladder to the loft. They found a small room, cluttered with boxes, loose papers and clothing strewn across the floor. In the middle was an unmade bed. At first glance, the sleeping quarters appeared to have been hastily rifled through, but it was evident that this was the way Nana lived. A search found about £23 in notes in various places, and a cheque for £2 and another for £1.12s.6d were found between the mattresses. £26 in notes and another cheque for £1.5s were found in the drawer of a writing desk and there were stashes of loose change dotted around the room. In all, £85 were found, and none of it was well hidden. This contradicted the idea that robbery was the prime motive.

Detectives Quirke and Mieklejohn checked into rooms at the Royal Hotel, across the street from David’s. As word spread of the murder, the footpath outside David’s quickly filled with onlookers. Local gossip was rife. They thought Nana, or David as he was commonly known, was harmless—he was well respected.

Six days before the murder, Nana’s three brothers had left for India, sailing to Sydney on the SS Marama. As a result, his body lay unclaimed in the morgue for several days. They had not spoken to Nana for a while, so were not very helpful when questioned. However, when Bhana had last spoken to Nana, in April 1930, he had mentioned the ongoing feud with Chhiba Gopal Panchia.

Police were not surprised—they knew Panchia was prone to violent outbursts. They had also heard rumours that Panchia was pressuring Nana to sell out and that Nana was on the verge of being closed down by market agents. Panchia played down the feud, but alluded to one possible reason why someone would want to kill Nana. He admitted he had recently made a polite offer to buy Nana out, which was rejected. He knew Nana was not as well off as many believed. In fact, he owed the Association of Providence Merchants, a predominantly Indian group, a great deal of money. Panchia said he was ashamed of Nana because his failure to make his payments disgraced their caste.

Detective Wright, from Auckland, went to Pukekohe to meet leaders within the Association of Providence Merchants, who confirmed Nana had owed the association £400. He had been meeting his payments until 12 months before, when payments stopped without any explanation. The amount owing was now £240. This was a large amount of money, but not enough to consider closing a business or murdering someone over.

The association’s policy was to summon a debtor before the board to seek an explanation and arrange a payment plan. If this failed, sanctions would be imposed and, as a last resort, the debtor would be forced out of business. Nana had made irregular payments, but no action had yet been taken to summon him. They believed Nana would eventually pay up. Board members admitted they were disappointed with Nana, and not only over the debt. Years earlier, Nana had sacked all his Hindu workers and was unsupportive of his own caste—this breached their code that required them to support each other.

Police were satisfied the association had no reason to murder Nana. Besides, it was not in their nature to seek violent retribution. One association member did, however, suggest they check out Nana’s cousin Vallabh from Rotorua. When Nana opened the Rotorua branch of B David and Co, Vallabh got the manager’s job. The store struggled through the Depression under his poor management. Nana lent Vallabh a considerable sum of money to help, but this was allegedly lost on bad investments and gambling. Nana was furious with Vallabh. Vallabh also owed a substantial sum of money to the merchants’ association and he had refused to arrange payments.

Vallabh attended Nana’s funeral on 2 February, but acted strangely and avoided people, leaving straight after the service. In fact, he disappeared and did not return to Rotorua, which was highly irregular.

Jim Baldwin, a local, claimed he saw a small Indian with a bushy moustache driving a slate-coloured car at high speed out of Hawera towards Wanganui at 9.45am on the morning after the murder. Someone else reported seeing the same man and vehicle parked outside Mokoia Dairy Factory later that morning. The description of the man matched that of Vallabh.

It was possible Vallabh had been in the area—he was absent from Rotorua on the day of the murder. He was considered a suspect, but had no criminal record. Police struggled to come up with a motive other than Vallabh requesting more money from Nana and turning violent when his request was refused.

Police spent two days carrying out door-to-door enquiries in the vicinity of Mokoia Dairy Factory. None of the residents or patrons of the nearby Manutahi Hotel remembered noticing a strange Indian in the last few days. A full description of Vallabh was wired out to all stations and he was quickly traced to a house in Ngongotaha, on the outskirts of Rotorua. When police interviewed him, it was obvious Vallabh was scared witless—he thought Nana had been murdered by his own countrymen because of the unpaid fees to the association and he was worried that he might be the next victim.

He denied having financial problems—he said he felt ripped off by the merchants’ association and had cut all ties with them. He had started purchasing his produce at the City Market in central Auckland. He denied murdering Nana and produced a season Rotorua-to-Auckland rail pass stamped to verify that he had travelled to Auckland on 31 January. He was ruled out as a suspect.

So, had Jim Baldwin actually seen an Indian? If so, who was it? During the first weeks of the investigation a number of people reported sightings of strange Indians in the district. Walter Lay had seen a Hindu swagman walking towards Hawera when he was driving between Eltham and Hawera at 6.20am on the morning of 31 January. Mr Lay knew most of the Indians in Hawera and was sure he had never seen this fellow before.

William Craigie had a store at 228 High Street and he reported an unusual encounter with a well-dressed Indian in his shop at 1.30pm on 31 January. The stranger said he was from Rangoon and asked Craigie if he knew the Patel Brothers and, also, how to get to David’s. Craigie noticed that when he left the store the fellow walked away from David’s store. He was aged between 30 and 35, and was 1.65 metres tall. He was stocky, with a very dark complexion, he was clean-shaven, and spoke good English. He flashed about some Bank of England notes. Customs checked their records for immigrants from Rangoon. Intriguingly, there was no record of any Rangoon Indian immigrating to New Zealand.

Craigie’s Indian was carrying a wad of Bank of England notes and Rogers had seen Nana purchase some Bank of England notes from a Pakeha on Saturday morning. Because the customer and the stranger were seen with the notes before Nana was murdered, and Bank of England notes were still commonly used throughout the country, this was not considered as significant to the investigation.

Walter Whitten, publican of the Central Hotel in Hawera, served a small, thin extremely well-dressed Indian, wearing a dark suit, felt hat and gold chain on 2 February. This description matched Craigie’s Indian. When the conversation turned to the murder, the man abruptly left the bar. Was he the murderer?

Police checked the records of all Indians who had committed criminal offences over the past two years. Remarkably, there were only fourteen and they all lived in Auckland or Wellington. None of the men matched the description of Craigie’s Indian and all had alibis for the period in question.

Who was this stranger? He sounded too well-dressed to be a fruit hawker. Recently a representative from the merchants’ association had closed down a fruiterer in New Plymouth. Rumours in the Indian community suggested the well-dressed stranger was an enforcer from the merchants’ association, but the association assured Detective Wright they had not sent a representative to Taranaki that week.

As publicity of the stranger circulated, Mrs Sales came forward. She had seen a well-dressed Indian man sitting with another Indian man near the lake at the local park at 4.30pm on Sunday 1 February. They appeared to be deep in conversation and one handed a package to the other before they left. Was there any connection?

Well-dressed Indian travellers were a rarity in the area. He would have to lodge somewhere, so police checked all hotels and boarding houses in the area to no avail. Train bookings were checked, and railway staff and local taxi drivers were interviewed, but nobody else had seen this stranger.

Milne, who ran the drycleaning business next door to David’s, said he overheard Nana at 8pm on the evening of 31 January say, ‘Here is the soap,’ to someone who replied in a foreign accent. The exact response was muffled because of the sound of running water, but Milne was adamant it was a foreigner. That’s the same time Gordon started work. Neither he nor Rogers saw any foreign gentleman with Nana, but conceded they were busy working in the store at that time and Nana was out the back. It was possible someone came in through the back door and went straight upstairs without being seen by the boys, but he would have had to remain quiet and out of sight until they both left after 11pm.

Despite the large sum of money found upstairs, robbery was still considered the most likely motive, yet there were no obvious signs of forced entry anywhere downstairs. One option was the foreign man heard by Milne at 8pm. He may have headed upstairs straight after washing his hands—this would tie in with Craigie’s Indian.

Another possibility was that Nana had met his assailant while closing the shop and invited him in for a few drinks. Unfortunately, the only fingerprints identified on the 33 empty stout bottles were Nana’s own.

When police checked upstairs they found sets of fingerprints on the window sill. The same fingerprints were found on the window ledge in Nana’s sleeping quarters, on the upstairs safe and on the ladder which was used to get up into the sleeping loft from the living room. Close inspection revealed tiny marks on the window latch and corresponding part of the sill—it was obvious someone had recently broken in and attempted to rob the safe. The same fingerprints were all over the place, suggesting the same person had broken in more than once.

All the witnesses interviewed so far had willingly been fingerprinted, so Mieklejohn was confident they would be quickly find a match. However, he was extremely surprised when he learned the identity of the would-be robber—the fingerprints had been left by Gordon, the lad who came in to help Nana on Saturday nights. The discovery also opened up a new sordid motive for the murder and a host of possible suspects.

On the evening of 1 March, Detective Mieklejohn went to Gordon’s home and interviewed the lad in front of his father. When Gordon left to work in an office in New Plymouth, Nana was sorry to lose him and gave him a good reference. He asked Gordon to help out on Saturday nights and Gordon gladly accepted. The detective wanted to know why Gordon’s fingerprints had been found in Nana’s living quarters and on the bathroom window sill. Gordon hung his head in shame.

Eventually, he admitted breaking into Nana’s store on Sundays whenever he knew for certain Nana would be at the beach. He said it was easy to break in through the window and he had been taught the technique by the boy he replaced when he started working there. Most of the boys who had worked there did it—not all the time, just when they needed extra cash. They knew Nana left money lying all over the place upstairs and if he ever noticed some missing, he never said anything to any of them.

Gordon said he had not broken in for at least two weeks before Nana’s murder and he repeated that he had left Nana’s around 11.15pm. Mr Gordon confirmed the boy had returned home at about 11.20pm and lazed around home most of the next day.

This presented police with a problem. If it was common for the boys to break in to steal money from Nana when they were employed, why would they stop after they finished working there? They had to track down all the boys who had worked at David’s to eliminate them from the inquiry. They could not rule out the possibility that one or more of them had continued to break in for some easy money.

Constable Lemm compiled a list of 12 boys—14 including Rogers and Gordon—and checked for any criminal activity. Meanwhile, Mieklejohn was still bothered by Gordon’s reaction when interviewed—he felt Gordon was not telling the full story. Had he broken in on Sunday and caught the assailant cleaning up? Had he been coerced into shutting up?

After the scene examination, Nana’s relations opened for business as usual, so Mieklejohn went to have a talk to Rogers. He found him unloading produce. Rogers said they all knew about the stash of money upstairs, but he had never been upstairs and he never had any intention of going there. Mieklejohn was puzzled at the last remark and asked what he meant. Rogers replied that, although he was a good friend and employer, Nana often said and did things that made him feel uncomfortable. Then he told his story.

One night, not long after Rogers started working there, Nana offered him a bottle of stout after work. As they had a quiet drink, Nana asked him if he knew many girls. Rogers said he did, and Nana suggested he bring one over so he could give her the ‘jig-jig’. A few days later, Nana peeled a banana and asked Rogers if he had his ‘skin on or off’, meaning was Rogers circumcised? When Rogers did not reply, Nana sidled up to him and said he would give him £5 if he would show him his erection and let him photograph it. Some days when there was nobody else around, Nana would try and grab Roger’s privates. Rogers would merely push him away and Nana would walk off laughing hysterically.

Rogers said he knew other boys had shown Nana their penises and Nana had given them money or fruit to take home. Once he arrived at work early and caught Gordon climbing down from Nana’s loft with a box containing a new pair of expensive sports shoes. Gordon seemed embarrassed and refused to talk about it. Rogers believed Gordon was having a sexual relationship with Nana in exchange for money and expensive clothing and he thought Gordon had a spare key so he could visit whenever he felt like it.

Mieklejohn interviewed Gordon again—without his father present. He strenuously denied having a sexual relationship with Nana, but admitted to willingly exposing himself to him once or twice in return for money or clothing. He said Nana took gleeful delight in making a grab for his privates, but it never went any further than that. He also admitted frequently being out the back of the shop with a bunch of other boys when Nana laughingly exposed his erection to them. He would ask for a ‘fuck’, but they always ignored him and told him to bugger off. Nana never pushed further with this game. He denied having a key, adding that it would have been handy—he could have avoided having to break in through the upstairs window to steal money.

Mieklejohn asked about Nana’s mood on the night he died. Gordon said he and Rogers were out the back and Rogers was lying on the couch. Nana came out, jumped on Rogers and attempted to ‘dry-hump’ him. Rogers pushed him off and Nana returned to the shop.

When interviewed, all the other boys had similar tales. One said Nana referred to them as his ‘dirty bastards’ even though he was the one making the sexual approaches. They all said Nana had asked them to show him their ‘corks’ for money, and they had all been regularly groped. Nine boys said Nana openly asked them for sex, but they all denied having a sexual relationship with him. Mieklejohn was suspicious—some boys probably had consented in exchange for money and goods, but were too ashamed to tell the truth.

In Hawera, Nana Chhiba had been a respected businessman. None of the boys appeared to have confided in anyone outside their own circle. To some, it was embarrassing. To others, it was no big deal—that’s just how Nana was. This new disclosure, a month after the murder, offered an entirely different motive for the killing—revenge, if not by one of the boys then, possibly, by one of their fathers.

At the interview with Gordon on 1 March, Mr Gordon said he did not trust Nana and there was something about him he did not like. At the time, Mieklejohn thought Mr Gordon was racist, but now he suspected he may have heard something about what his boy had endured at the shop. None of the boys had complained to police. In fact, many of them spoke highly of Nana and were visibly upset at his death. It seemed, to most of them, Nana’s lewd behaviour was tolerable—it was a small price to pay for the benefits of working at David’s. They were paid well and did not have to work very hard. He gave them alcohol and there was always loose money lying around that he didn’t seem to miss. In the Depression, fruit was a luxury and the boys were allowed to help themselves whenever they liked. Besides, he never really forced himself on them—all they needed to do was tell him to ‘bugger off’ and he would.

During interviews with the boys, Mieklejohn and Quirke heard another story about Nana’s secretive and immoral life that opened up yet another possible motive and suspect. Tom and Ada Mitchell* used to manage the laundry and drycleaning business next door to David’s. They lived in a flat behind the laundry, adjacent to Nana’s living area. Ada Mitchell did Nana’s laundry in exchange for the wood from his fruit crates. Four years earlier, Ada Mitchell became pregnant with her first child. The excitement of a newborn baby gave way to horror when she gave birth to a dark-skinned daughter. Tom Mitchell’s shock turned to rage when his wife tearfully admitted having an ongoing sexual relationship with the Hindu next door. He stormed out, confronted Nana and gave him a beating. Nana was just as shocked but did not press charges. Instead, he became reclusive.

The Mitchells moved and opened a laundromat in Regent Street before going their separate ways. Tom stayed in Hawera running the laundromat, but became an alcoholic. Under the influence, he would occasionally threaten Nana. Ada moved to Patea, where she lived and worked with her sister at the Central Hotel.

Police learned that Tom and Ada Mitchell had met up in on the night of 31 January to discuss a possible reconciliation. They were seen walking together in High Street, before Ada was picked up by her brother-in-law at the Hawera Post Office at 11.00pm. Tom Mitchell loitered around town for half an hour before returning to his lodgings.