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Carter Bowers, the police scientist adjusted his telescope type instrument that was sitting on a tripod at the edge of a walkway lookout above the Marlborough Sounds bay. He glanced up at Detective Inspector Eliot Parkes.
"This is the spot where he would have controlled the speedboat, Eliot," he said. "Fits in with everything else we found out."
"That the remote control device was relatively crude and had to be manually controlled within line of sight?"
"True."
"But why this exact spot?"
Carter waved his hand out and pointed to a rocky outcrop. "Any further around and that would have blocked the view. This lookout leads up from the main track with only those steep shrub covered slopes going up or down on each side. They show no signs of being entered. Also this lookout is hidden from the main track with only one-way in and out. That sign we found in the grass stating that the lookout was closed would keep any casual trampers away while he was here."
"So you think there was only one person involved?"
Carter nodded. "Up here, yes."
Eliot Parkes frowned. "There could have been others involved in setting up the remote controls in the boat. We know it was stolen from a boathouse where it had been locked away for the winter. My guess is that they did all the work there itself. If any locals noticed activity around the batch, it could be explained away by saying the place was rented by tourists. This often happens even in winter for trampers or canoeist who like the quieter times."
"True."
"I've got my people checking out the place," Parkes continued. "Can you look for fingerprints? With a little luck we may lift something of interest."
"So why was this Trow guy so important to somebody?"
Bowers grimaced. "He was just a small fish who got in over his head with gambling debts. He was about to be charged with stealing money from the school where he was the principal."
"So why has it taken so long?"
"Our investigation could not find evidence that it was him and new information came to light that suggested it might have been his son who was guilty and his father covered for him." He shrugged. "With them both dead, I guess that part doesn't matter any more. It's the bigger picture we are trying to sort out now."
"The international terrorist or crime syndicate?"
"Yes, everything points to this. We've kept up with it and rescued those children abducted from the school bus but now there are more involved. It's my job to seek them out."
Carter slipped on vinyl gloves and found numerous fingerprints by the multitude of tourists who held the rail around the lookout. Most though, were smudged and were probably several weeks old. He searched around and pointed to marks in the decking. "See those scratches? They look recent and were probably caused by a tripod similar to ours. It could have held the instrument that controlled the boat."
"But there's nothing of value?"
Carter grimaced and knelt down on one knee next to the scratched wood. Around them were several pebbles that were probably brought in on tourists' boots from the metalled track leading to the lookout. He frowned and picked up a flat stone that would have been too big to be lodged in a boot.
"Interesting," he muttered. "This one is different from the other stones around." He held it up. "Notice how round and flat it is compared with the other sharper ones. Now what would you do if this was wedged in the foot of the tripod and made it wobble?"
"I'd pull it out." Eliot replied.
"Exactly." Carter reached for a spray can he had used to bring up the other fingerprints and squirted it on both sides of the stone before he squinted at it. "A perfect thumb on one side and a fingerprint on the other. It was gripped, pulled out and tossed away."
He took his iPad, photographed the two prints and sent the resulting pictures to a police address. Mere seconds later a reply came back. He grinned and handed his iPad over for Eliot to see.
The words and photograph were interesting. It read Positive Match and below was a photograph of a well-dressed, clean-shaven man in a suit. He was in his thirties and could have been one of millions of civil servants or businessmen in the western world but he wasn't! Further information listed several aliases that he went by and listed him as forty-four in a list of a hundred most wanted men by Interpol. His real name as far as Interpol knew, was Dmitry Volkov but a caution was added that as Volkov meant wolf in Russian, this could also be a pseudonym. He was wanted in several western countries as well as his homeland for terrorism, kidnapping, murder, money laundering, embezzlement and lesser crimes.
"Pleasant guy," Carter grunted. "Would you like a facial recognition cross-match made with immigration?"
"Please," Elliot replied and watched as Carter selected another site, added a ten digit and letter password and forwarded the photograph. Less than a minute later the man's face reappeared on the screen. This was a passport photograph with him listed as Grant Kilmorton who entered New Zealand on a visitor's permit using a United Kingdom passport. His arrival was at Queenstown International Airport two months earlier. According to the information, he was still in the country.
"Want a national search made for his whereabouts under that name?" Carter asked.
"Probably using a different one but it won't do any harm."
When Carter did this, an immediate warning flashed on the screen with interesting details about his location produced on a Google map.
"Right," Detective Inspector Eliot Parkes took a mobile phone from his pocket, punched in a number and spoke in crisp sentences before clicking off. "We should be on time," he muttered. "Thank goodness for modern communications equipment."
*
EVERYONE WAS ABOARD the 787 Dreamliner parked in front of the international terminal at Auckland Airport. The aircraft's destination was Shanghai nine thousand, four hundred kilometres northwest and over twelve hours flying time away. Aboard were tourists and business people heading offshore or Chinese citizens heading back home after visiting New Zealand. Just before the doors were shut, a woman dressed in casual but upmarket clothes walked up to the airhostess about to close the aircraft's door.
"Detective Sergeant Jessica Davies, New Zealand Police. I assume your captain handed the message he received onto you?" she said in almost a whisper to the airhostess as she held up an identification card.
"Yes Ma'am," the airhostess replied. "The passenger you require is in Seat K6. Will you please follow me?"
"No, I know where the seat is."
A couple of elderly business men glanced at the attractive woman as she dashed along the far aisle with a small bag swinging off her shoulder as if she was in a hurry to go further into the aircraft and find her seat. Without even slowing, she appeared to stumble beside the well-dressed man in his thirties seated in K6. This was a comfortable seat at the end of the business class section with no other seats beside or behind it.
"Oops, I'm sorry," she said with a smile and brushed the man's right shoulder. "Shouldn't wear high heels, now should I?"
The man glanced at her and perhaps was affected by her attractive looks or that whiff of perfume as he moved his body slightly and even reached out to steady her. She turned and again without even the slightest hesitation, poked a needle through his suit coat, jabbed into soft skin tissue and using just two fingers, pushed a plunger.
He stared at her, swore in his native language and attempted to grab her arm. But he was too late for Davies had already left the business section. He moaned, staggered and crashed sideways into the aisle. Even before he reached the ground he was unconscious. Another passenger across the aisle stared in surprise, realised something had happened and called an airhostess and an announcement went through the aircraft stating that there would be a short delay due to a medical emergency. Two medics from the terminal building arrived, lifted the passenger onto a stretcher and carried him off. With all the business class passengers watching the unfortunate man's removal, Jessica switched isles and walked back to the exit door and left just before the two medics and their patient. Afterwards the doors were shut and the 787 taxied out to the runway without even loosing its position in the queue.
*
"MR DMITRY VOLKOV TRAVELLING under the name of Grant Kilmorton?" the detective inspector asked in the featureless police station interview room.
The man showed no emotion. "I am Grant Kilmorton from United Kingdom, yes. The other name you mentioned is unknown to me," he replied in a British accented voice.
"If you say so, Sir," the detective replied. "I am Detective Inspector James Wilson of the New Zealand Police." He was polite but his tone was stern. "You have been arrested on two counts of murder in that you wilfully caused a boat to explode in ..." He continued on to list the precise reasons for the arrest.
"That is preposterous. As I said, I am from the United Kingdom, London England to be precise. My passport is legal and authentic and I have never been to the Marlborough Sounds."
"Cut out the crap, Mr Volkov or whatever your real name is," the detective interrupted. "We know about how you controlled the boat packed with an explosive device into one owned by Mr Don Trow and his son Landon. You got careless when you picked up a stone and threw it aside.
Volkov shrugged but his eyes became cold.
"We know about the organisation you are working for, Volkov, how your colleagues abducted the children from that Tuckett school bus, your organisation's first attempt at assassinating Mt Don Trow and the casino in your homeland that is just a front for a terrorist group called Haqq Nar... need I go on?"
"So why are we here?" Volkov whispered.
"To give you a choice. There are three directions your life can go, Dmitry; you can stand trial for the multiple murder charges I have mentioned and spend the next twenty years of your life in one of our maximum security prisons, plead guilty to the lesser charge of reckless piloting of a pleasure craft causing death and be deported after a minimal time in Her Majesty's Prison, or select the even lesser charge of arriving in our country using a false passport. This will be subject to a fine and immediate deportment."
Volkov stared at the officer with expressionless eyes. "And the catch?" he whispered.
The inspector's smile was fixed but grim. "The first alternative is self-explanatory. There is no death penalty in our country so you will survive and in the last alternative you will be deported as Dmitry Volkov to Moscow where you will be handed over to their police. Interpol has told us they have a warrant out for your arrest or perhaps they may even let you go free. Of course Haqq Nar will be advised that you're in the country. I believe they are not very sympathetic about operatives who get caught by local police."
Only a small vein twitched in Volkov's neck but it was noticed. They both knew his chance of surviving more than a week in Moscow was practically zero.
"And the middle alternative?" he replied.
"You tell us everything about your organisation here in New Zealand, including names of locals recruited and any others like yourself who have arrived here. We would also like the names of your victims who are being blackmailed or have had their bank accounts hacked into. If you co-operate, you will receive that minimal sentence mentioned and be deported as Grant Kilmorton to United Kingdom. You will have to take your chances with the British police and secret service. They are efficient but are not ruthless killers."
"I see," Volkov replied. "Can I speak to a lawyer?"
"Of course. After your district court appearance for the charge you wish to select you will be remanded in custody to await trial." James Wilson turned grim. "You have one day to make your mind."
*
ANDY MCLEAN, THE TUCKETT police sergeant, sat across from Karla in her office. "I just thought you might be interested in the latest information about Don and his son."
"So what happened to this Russian gangster?"
Andy grinned. "He took the last choice and talked. Lied through the teeth but we had enough background information to piece together a few loose strings. His fake passport was actually more help. There was a tiny flaw that immigration missed when he arrived." He shrugged. "What it was is classified but by searching back we traced seven more people who entered the country using fake passports from United Kingdom or Western European countries. Two were killed in that helicopter crash when Ryan and the kids were rescued and three others have left the country. The two still here have been arrested. It was actually their information that helped us more than Volkov's lies. Apparently, he came into the country after the failed helicopter episode to lead the Haqq Nar."
"So where is he now?"
"Somewhere between here and London. He's got a surprised when he arrives. The British police are waiting for him and he'll be arrested on a long-standing murder warrant. He won't be going anywhere for a long time."
"And our school will not be subjected to any revenge attacks from these terrorists or that casino?"
"We are pretty certain they won't regard New Zealand as a soft spot to infiltrate any more. However, my orders are to keep a close watch on tourists and people staying here. The bicycle trail will be watched closely." He shrugged. "As for the casino, it's still there with New Zealanders using it but that is their choice. We are not about trying to censor out undesirable web sites. If Don had used only his own money, none of this would have happened."
"Thank you, Andy. I guess that the PTA will never see the money again."
"Probably not, I'm afraid."
"And that equipment above us?"
"That's up to your Board of Trustees. There's no crime in setting it up but the information stored on the computer itself was subject to our investigations. As well as Don's, Landon's computer in Dunedin was seized and will have all illegal files deleted before being returned to the family."
"I think they're going to leave the disk there with the idea that the new principal could be connected to the school from his or her home."
"But Brandi lives out of town."
"True but the permanent position has to be advertised and, with it the school house."
"Hope she gets it," Andy replied. "I've heard that she's doing well under your guidance."
Karla smiled. "Yes, I'm pleased to say that I am quickly becoming redundant here."
"Never," the sergeant said. "Nobody ever told you I suppose but the idea of a woman running our school did not go down very well with the old die-hard conservatives in town. Now it looks as if we'll have a permanent lady principal as well with almost everyone welcoming her, thanks to your efforts here."
"Possibly," Karla replied. "But that is up to the Board of Trustees."
*
THE VACANCY FOR DEPUTY principal for the senior school was the first to be advertised with Karla as well as Brandi, Sonya, Adrian Flavell and Blake Turner on the selection committee. There were fourteen applications but on closer examination, all but six had no experience or the expertise that they wanted. Of those six, further enquiries showed that three had problems in their present or past positions so they were now down to three.
Karla sat with Brandi and read yet another referee's report. Again, they found that it was what was missing that seemed important. Obviously, candidates would select a referee who would give them a positive review so if one from a candidate's principal was missing, it immediately made one cautious. This particular man had fifteen years experience, sounded good and came from a large city high school but his referees were teachers from different schools from where he worked. Why was this so?
"It's hard," Brandi said. "Perhaps we should go back to our original list and re-examine them."
Karla nodded. "One criteria we used did worry me a little, especially in line with what I've been trying to do here since I came. We hardly looked at the applications who only had primary school experience."
"That is because we want a high school teacher."
Karla turned to her companion. "I wasn't a high school teacher," she said. "In fact, Tui School only takes Year 1 to 6 children. If I was applying for this position, I'd be in the also ran file."
"Me too," Brandi admitted. "So what do we look for?"
"Academic qualifications, administrative abilities, how they relate to both adults and students, ability to be a leader, work in an isolated area, work in the whole school... come on let's ignore our original criteria and make a new one."
The pair listed a dozen items to look for and cut these down to five main ones. Afterwards they checked on a government site that gave advice on selecting staff and found their own ideas were close to what was suggested. They next brought up the original list of applicants and added their new priorities to make new short-list of six. Only two from the original list were on this one and of the four new short-listed candidates, one name immediately came to Karla's attention. Mia Cowan, Honeyburn School's principal had applied. Karla said nothing but showed Brandi the application.
"You were impressed with her, weren't you?" Brandi asked.
Karla grinned. "Yes, she reminds me of someone here at Tuckett."
"Who?" Brandi asked.
"You, my friend. She's another conscientious teacher who has coped well in a stressful environment." Karla grinned. "If you agree, we can go on and persuade the other selection members that she should be short-listed."
*
A MONTH LATER AFTER interviews, discussions and formal appointments, Brandi was selected as Principal of Tuckett Area School and Mia, Deputy Principal of the Senior School. Brandi's original position as Assistant Principal of Junior Classes was won by a Hannah O'Bryan from the North Island who had good reports and was attracted to the area because of her interest in winter sports. She also took up the option of renting the principal's schoolhouse that Brandi didn't need.
"Somewhat sexist," Ryan commented after Karla told him that Brandi, Mia and Hannah had all accepted their respective positions. "What chance does a poor male have on a school staff these days?"
"Caretaker or bus driver," Karla responded with a smirk on her face.
Ryan grinned. "So what will happen at Honeyburn School with Mia gone?"
"They'll just keep going as they have for generations, everything she has achieved will soon be forgotten and the new teacher coming will be back to square one. Mind you, the board there still has to prove that they can manage the books. Mia said that the ERO team gave them a reasonable report but will return in two years as a follow up instead of the usual three. That'll keep them on their toes."
"So will Tuckett Area School be the same when you leave?"
Karla glanced across at him. "I think our new senior staff will cope, Ryan. I hardly need to come back for that extra term next year."
"But you will, won't you?"
Karla smiled. "I'd like to see how our NCEA results turn out and I also promised both Brandi and Mia that I'd help them. Mia's got high academic qualifications so should cope well but teaching high school is different."
"Then back to straightening out Tui Park that's drifted while you've been down here."
Karla glanced at Ryan and saw the twinkle in his eyes. "Well, it stops one getting bored, doesn't it?" she whispered.
*