The Kiwi Target

CHAPTER 1

    Despite the early hour, the invitation of October springtime was already in the air as Constable Eldon Perkins stood outside the Auckland Airport International Terminal and nourished his spirit on the fresh warm breeze. He was an impressionable young man, and as he looked across the open field where the flight from Sydney would shortly come in, he wished that he too could enjoy some of the magic of faraway places.
    At twenty-one, he was only a short while out of the ranks of the police cadets. Only five feet eight and almost too slender for his own good health, he would have been hard pressed in any kind of a physical contest. As was the policy in New Zealand, he was unarmed, depending principally on the authority of his uniform and the warrant card in his pocket to back up his role as a policeman. Concealed in his trousers he did have a very short wooden truncheon that he could resort to in an extreme emergency, but he knew that its efficiency was very limited. The time that it would take to get it out of its deep pocket and to wrap its leather thong around his wrist made it even more impotent.
    Constable Perkins was similar to many of the other very young men in the police except in one particular way: he had a phenomenal memory for names and faces. Each morning when he came to work he carefully reviewed the standing file of wanted persons and scanned their portraits. This was not so much to refresh his memory as to bring him up to date on apprehensions and new additions to the lists.
    Now as he stood just outside the passenger doors and filled his lungs with the welcome tonic of springtime, Perkins knew that the next hour would be a busy one. In addition to the Qantas flight from Australia, a United 747 coming nonstop from Los Angeles was due in with almost a full load.
    When the incoming flight from Sydney was due on the blocks in less than ten minutes, Perkins went back inside the terminal and took his station with two more experienced constables to assist them as might be necessary.
    Shortly after-the high-pitched howls of the jet engines ceased, the passengers began to come into the terminal. Most of them carried assorted pieces of hand baggage; a few of the more experienced had their passports, arrival forms, and health certificates out and ready. As they passed through the immigration booths, the computer screens visible only to the officers on duty told if each traveler was known to be of any special interest.
    Constable Perkins glanced at them all. One face interested him: he caught only a quick glimpse of it in profile, but that was enough. He contrived to move rapidly without attracting attention to a point where he could get a better view. As soon as he had done that, he scanned the other passengers and selected a woman who was carrying her own case, all of the available trolleys being in use. He hurried to her side and relieved her of her bag. “Let me help you,” he said, and escorted her outside. After accepting the woman’s warm thanks with due modesty, he hurried to the small police office inside the terminal and got on the phone.
    His call was quickly fed through to Senior Sergeant Bob O’Hara. “Perkins at the airport,” he reported. “Qantas flight from Sydney just in. Among the passengers was Edward Riley, posted as wanted in both Australia and Hong Kong. He’s shaved his beard and dyed his hair. He took a taxi from the airport.”
    Senior Sergeant O’Hara knew all about Perkins and what to expect. “The license number of the cab?” he asked.
    Perkins supplied it; it had been no trouble at all to memorize it while he was carrying the arriving passenger’s bag out to the bus area. The sergeant took immediate action. All patrolling units were quickly notified.
    It did not take long to locate the cab and interview the driver. His passenger from the airport had asked to be let off at a corner on Queen Street. That was unusual because he had had a substantial suitcase to carry. The driver had complied, but he had seen no one contact his passenger before he had pulled away.
    In the Intelligence Section some rapid work was under way. The full Interpol blue-coded file on Edward Riley was pulled and examined in detail. He had first appeared as a strong-arm enforcer, then as a bank robber and suspected murderer in several parts of the Far East. He had served a prison term in Singapore and was known to have been associated with “Mr. Asia” before that man’s death. Hong Kong