Eye for an Eye (2 page)

She pushed
harder on the accelerator and sped along the quiet street, but then
remembered where she was headed and eased back to the legal
limit.

Blenheim police
station was well-lit but very quiet, with no patrol cars parked on
the forecourt. Robyn buzzed for admittance, and was relieved to see
a face she knew well coming to the door.

‘Gidday,
Smitty, how’s it going?’

‘Good thanks
Robyn, how are you doing? Come to help look for your old man, have
you?’

‘Yeah, what’s
the story Smitty, have you heard anything?

‘Not yet, love
- come in, come in, it’s freezing out there.’

He guided her
through to the inner room, sat her down, and handed her a cup of
coffee which she accepted gratefully.

‘It’s not like
your old man to go AWOL, is it?’ Smitty cupped his hands round his
own mug and looked at her steadily.

‘No, I can’t
figure it out. I thought Pete was stressing over nothing, but now
I’m getting a bit worried myself.’

‘Has anything
been bothering your Dad lately? I mean I know it hasn’t been all
that long since your Mum died, but he seemed to be well over that,
didn’t he? I mean, not that he doesn’t grieve for her or anything,
just that he seemed pretty normal, eh?’ Smitty’s honest face
reddened in case he’d caused offence.

‘No, you’re
right, he did seem OK. Mum’s death wasn’t exactly unexpected, I
mean, we all had plenty of time to get used to the idea, and I
thought he handled it really well. No, I’m sure he hasn’t suddenly
fallen apart over that.’

She sipped her
coffee, choking slightly when the radio burst into life beside her
ear with a crackle of static.

‘You there,
Smitty? Over.’

He picked up
the mike.

‘Yeah, go ahead
Tim.’

‘You said to
keep a lookout for Reg Taylor? He drives a green station wagon,
doesn’t he? There’s one parked at Walter’s Bluff car park and
nobody seems to be around. Can you do a vehicle check?’

At the mention
of the vehicle registration number, Robyn’s face went still. She
nodded to Smitty and he spoke into the mike.

‘That’s the one
we’re after, Tim. Have a good look around, will you. I’ll be out
there in a few minutes, and I’ve got his daughter with me.’ There
was a wealth of meaning in his words. ‘I’ll let the rest of the
boys know and they’ll meet us out there so we can cover more
ground.’

The ten minute
drive across flat pastureland to the coast at Walter’s Bluff went
by in a blur of oncoming headlights and white lines on the
road.

As they pulled
up in the car park at the base of the cliff, Robyn caught her
breath at the sight of her father’s car parked alone by the stone
steps that led to the cliff-top path, bathed in the lights of the
patrol car. Two policemen stood nearby, their breath steaming in
the night air. Smitty told Robyn to wait in the car and went over
to speak to them.

She watched
their expressions, trying to make sense of the frowns, the
gestures, and the quick glances in her direction. Finally, unable
to bear the waiting, she went to join them.

‘What news
then? Have you seen him?’

They wouldn’t
meet her eyes.

‘No news, at
least, nothing definite.’ Smitty said reassuringly. ‘There are a
few scuff marks along the track, that’s all. We can’t tell until
we’ve got more people here, and more light. Just hold fire until
the others get here, and we’ll all go and look, OK? Go sit in the
car for now.’

Robyn shot him
a mutinous glance, but obeyed.

The inside of
the police car was clean enough, but smelled of smoke with just a
whiff of disinfectant to mask the sourness of the occasional drunk
it had transported. The dashboard had extra unfamiliar buttons on
it - alley lights, siren - giving Robyn the urge to push them to
get a response from the three men outside. The radio was equally
tempting, but she sighed and folded her arms. This was no time for
fooling around.

She wondered
where Pete was, somewhere on the long winding drive from the farm
into town. Was he stopping at every bend to check for tyre tracks
running off the edge? There were plenty of dangerous spots along
the rugged hill road, where the encroachment of the sea made for
sharp hairpin turns, and sudden washouts were always a possibility.
She hated to think of him wasting effort there when he should be
here. There was no point in trying to ring him as cellphone
coverage was patchy at best in their remote part of the
country.

Smitty got back
in the car, bringing a wave of cold air tangy with bush and
sea.

‘Soon have some
back-up on site, and Neville’s at the station, he’ll get in touch
with Pete to let him know what’s going on.’

‘He’ll probably
see him before long, he’s heading into town looking for Dad on the
way. Just don’t book him if he speeds on the way out here, OK?’

‘I think you
could count these as extenuating circumstances.’

They smiled at
each other, both grateful for the attempt to lighten the
situation.

It was another
ten minutes before the fishermen arrived, spraying gravel as they
pulled up. Four young Maori guys got out and hauled backpacks from
among the nets and buoys on the back of the truck, handing round
torches and rescue gear with the ease of long practise. ‘We just
want to be ready for anything,’ said Smitty, reading Robyn’s face.
‘It’s a long way to come back down if we need something in a
hurry.’

She accepted
his assurance at face value and joined the group headed towards the
steps.

‘Hey Robyn,
how’s it going?’ The youngest of the lads greeted her warmly.

‘Hi Matai,’ she
said. ‘Good to see you – thanks for coming out on a cold night like
this. I hope our old man hasn’t put you guys to a lot of trouble
for nothing.’

‘Aw, no
worries. Happy to look out for a mate, eh boys?’ The others
chorused their agreement.

The path beyond
the stonework was steep, slippery with dirt and loose stones, but
she’d been there several times before and walked confidently in the
circle of lamp-light from the person ahead of her. They pulled
themselves up over a series of stone outcrops, moving steadily
despite their burdens, each of them looking left and right for any
sign of human traffic. Robyn was conscious of the sound of waves
crashing on the rocks far below, and shivered in the damp
breeze.

They tramped on
for several more minutes, then paused to confer.

‘Seen
anything?’ Smitty asked the leading officer.

‘Set of prints
I’ve been following, about a size 10 boot...’ He looked towards
Robyn and she nodded. It was the right size for her father.

‘A jumble of
other feet heading in both directions, but nothing conclusive yet.
Shall we carry on?’

Smitty
nodded.

Far behind
them, Robyn thought she heard a shrill whistle, and cocked her head
to listen.

‘I think that’s
Pete,’ she said. ‘It’s one of his signals. I’ll go back and get
him.’

‘Mind how you
go - here, take my torch. Make sure you bring it back, OK?’

She smiled at
him. ‘Thanks, Smitty. Back in a tick.’

She hurried
down the track, pausing to give a shrill two-fingered whistle in
reply so Pete would know she was coming. They met at one of the
rocky outcrops, and Robyn reached down to give her brother a hand
up.

‘Thanks, Rob.
Phew, it’s a long time since I sprinted anywhere this steep!’ He
bent over, panting. ‘What news? Finding the car’s a good start, but
where the hell is Dad?’

‘Damned if I
know. What would he be doing way out here anyway?’

She waited
while he caught his breath.

‘Well he used
to come up here sometimes after visiting Mum in the hospital, said
it cleared his mind to get away from it all. Maybe he wanted a bit
of peace and quiet?’

‘What! Like the
farm isn’t quiet! Get real, Pete.’

She stopped
when she saw his wounded look.

‘Sorry, mate. I
know you’re worried sick.’ She slipped an arm round his shoulder.
‘Let’s catch up with the search team and see if they’ve found
anything yet. Dad must be round somewhere if he left the car here,
eh?’

They hurried
along the path, both careful to keep to the inward side. On the
outer side the torch beam lost itself in empty blackness past pale
tussocks flickering on the cliff edge.

They rounded a
shoulder of the hill to see a grassy area cordoned off with bright
yellow New Zealand Police tape, lit by lamps and torches as the
officers and searchers walked in a straggling line across it. Now
and again one bent down and picked up an item, leaving a marker in
its place. Robyn and Pete broke into a run.

‘Smitty! What
have you found?’

‘Where is he,
is he here?’

Smitty held up
his hand.

‘Hold it, guys,
stay where you are for now, will you? We just have to do a scene
examination then I’ll be right back. Go sit over there, I’ll be as
quick as I can.’

They glanced at
each other with shocked eyes, half numb with disbelief.

‘What the hell
is this, can you figure it out, Rob?’

She looked at
the row of searchers, painstakingly combing the taped-off area.

‘They must be
considering it a crime scene. Is Dad the criminal or the
victim?’

Her attempt at
humour sounded weak, even to her. Pete ignored it. He paced back
and forth along the track, looking at his feet.

‘How can they
tell anything from this? The ground’s dry as a bone, nothing but
dust, and now they’ve tramped all over it with their great big
boots anyway. Why are they wasting time, they can see Dad’s not
there - why aren’t they moving on?’

‘Steady, Pete.
Smitty knows what he’s doing. I know it’s hard, but just wait.’

Smitty walked
over to them with something in a plastic bag.

‘Do either of
you recognise this?’ He held up a brown leather wallet. Robyn
peered closely, holding a corner of the plastic bag to steady
it.

‘Yeah, that’s
Dad’s! I bought it for him last Christmas, look, there are his
initials on the corner. He must have come this way! Can’t we go a
bit further and look for him?’

Smitty shook
his head seriously. ‘Come and have a look over here. I think we’ve
figured out what may have happened to him.’

They followed
Smitty across the grass to the edge of the cliff, where the ground
fell away almost vertically in a sheer drop to the rocks below.

‘OK, see these
prints? Size ten boots, like your Dad’s, right? We can probably
make comparison prints from round the farm to confirm that. There’s
been a scuffle here, the prints point in several directions as if
he’s been circling round facing someone. His wallet was found empty
on the grass over there, and a few coins over here.’ He paused to
let them assimilate what he’d said. ‘Now, this is going to be the
hard part. Look over the edge, carefully now. The bushes are broken
as if something quite heavy has crashed against them. Do you see
what I mean?’

Robyn’s fist
pressed against her mouth, and Pete let out a groan.

‘But OK,
suppose there was a struggle, and a robbery - suppose Dad got free
and it was the robber that went over the cliff? Dad might have
panicked and taken off thinking he’d killed someone...’

Robyn’s voice
trailed off. It didn’t sound convincing.

‘The fact that
the wallet was found empty suggests that the assailant took the
cash out afterwards, when he was alone. I think you’re going to
have to prepare yourselves for bad news. It’s unlikely that anyone
could survive a fall from that height. I’m very sorry.’

Smitty went off
to arrange a helicopter to search the cliff-face and the rocks
beneath.

It was a week
before the body washed ashore along the coast. The forensic
examination revealed abrasions and general contusions consistent
with a fall and subsequent pounding by the sea, and an absence of
water in the lungs. The Coroner recorded a cautious verdict of
death at the hands of person or persons unknown.

The Taylors
attended their second funeral in a year.

They were
greeted with sympathy by the legal receptionist when they arrived
at the family lawyer’s office for the reading of their father’s
will.

‘Not a lot of
good news, I’m afraid,’ began the young bespectacled lawyer in dry
tones. He leaned on his desk in an unconscious copy of the portrait
behind him that showed his father at the same desk.

‘There was very
little capital left in the reserve fund, and the second mortgage on
the farm left your father seriously in debt.’

Robyn and Pete
exchanged puzzled frowns.

‘What second
mortgage? He never mentioned anything like that. When was that
arranged?’ Pete queried the young man, who looked
uncomfortable.

‘It was about a
year ago, and it wasn’t arranged through our firm, unfortunately.
We would certainly have advised against it, particularly with the
current state of the farming sector.’

‘But how could
you not have known about it? Don’t they run checks on these things
- surely you’d have heard and told him not to do it? What the hell
have you guys been playing at?’

The lawyer met
Pete’s eyes. ‘I can understand that you’re upset, Peter. This has
been a difficult time for your family. I assure you that we have
always acted in your best interests, but if you would like to
consult my father for his opinion, you are most welcome. He keeps a
watching brief on the office despite his retirement. If you’re not
happy with my handling of the situation?’

Pete shook his
head. ‘No, no - it’s OK, I didn’t mean to question your abilities,
it’s just that all this is a bit of a surprise. The farm accounts
have been fine for years, and Dad never mentioned that he’d even
thought of getting a second mortgage - I just can’t understand why
he did.’