The Kiwi Target

things along the shoreline.
    It was on the way back that he spotted a high bluff that marked one of the many headlands. This particular one curved in such a way that from almost any point on its face a magnificent view was presented. Within seconds he had a whole concept in his mind.
    A major new hotel at the Bay of Islands could have an extraordinary potential. As soon as that particular piece of land could be secured, it could be built from water level up to the top of the cliff lying along its face. It too would curve through ninety degrees so that every room would have a superb view. At the very top would be the finest of restaurants with dancing and entertainment. A direct entrance would be provided from the top of the cliff- The whole structure would be effectively hidden behind the cliff, yet it could be at least twenty stories tall.
    The cost would be substantial, but that was not a consideration with Pricane; the only question would be the profit potential expressed as a percentage of the investment.
    “That would be a marvelous place to put a home,” he said. He saw that there already was one at the top of the bluff, but she would understand what he meant.
    “Yes, that’s a very choice spot,” Susie agreed. “In fact, there’s a little stir about it now.”
    “What kind of stir?”
    “Some people are trying to buy it, from outside New Zealand I hear. There’s a rumor that they’re from Hong Kong.”
    The moment she said that, Kincaid realized that the whole water area opened onto the sea, so that coming in or out with small boats, or some not so small, would be an easy matter. Hong Kong could mean a lot of things, even narcotics smuggling. “What do they plan to do?” he asked.
    “Some say a new hotel, something spectacular to bring in the big money. We’re all against it, of course. We like things here the way they are.”
    “I can understand that. My company is in the land development business, but we make a big point of fitting the ecology. We would never put up anything that would spoil a lovely place like this.”
    He had not mentioned his work before, and Susie was curious. “What do you do for the company?” she asked.
    He anticipated a little. “I’m the president.”
    “Oh!”
    Kincaid resumed his easy manner. “What’s more, as long as I am, there’ll be no spoiling of beauty through exploitation.” Kincaid had heard nothing about any Hong Kong interest in New Zealand tourist development; it was worth the whole day just to find that out. Pricane with its immense resources could sandbag any competition, but outside bidders could drive prices up to ruinous levels.
    To his knowledge Pricane had never failed to get its way, a ], though there had been some classic battles in the past.
    As they docked, he noted with warm approval the rear view of his guide as she climbed out of the boat. When all the lines had been secured and the cockpit closed down, he joined her on the pick. “That was a delightful trip,” he said. “Thank you very much.”
    “I'm glad you enjoyed it,” Susie responded. “We aim to please.”
    “You certainly have. Please join me for a drink at the hotel while we settle up.”
    He walked her the short distance to the hotel with such an easy style, she completely let down her guard. At the desk he cashed a traveler’s check, counted out her fee, and slipped an extra ten dollars into the small pile before he handed it to her. She put it into her purse without looking at it and went with him into the bar.
    They had one drink together before Susie excused herself. Kincaid saw her to the door since she was at that moment his guest.
    When he returned to the bar, he was ready for another drink on his own. There was one other patron, a stockily built, slightly ruddy man with a smooth face and a visibly open manner. When he and Kincaid were served at the same time, the other man raised his glass. “Cheers,” he said.
    “Cheers.” Kincaid tipped his glass and took a fair share of the contents. “Not bad at all,” he said as he put it down.
    “A Yank, I take it. Your first visit here?”
    Everyone asked that, but Kincaid didn’t mind; it was one of the ways the locals sold their country. “Yes, my first, and I’m very glad to be here.”
    “Thank you, thank you so much!”
    “Not at all. My name’s Kincaid, Ted Kincaid.”
    The other man beamed. “Glad to meet you. My name is Winston, just like Churchill, but I’m afraid the resemblance ends