The Kiwi Target

keep the money.”
    “I see. You’ll have blocked the Chinese from building their hotel.”
    “Yes. And there’d be no point in pestering you, because if you did decide to sell, I’d be holding the option.”
    “In that case, you could sell it to them for a very good price.“
    “That’s probably right,” Kincaid admitted. “But I wouldn’t. I’m willing to put in a clause to that effect.”
    “Then what are your plans?”
    “With respect, that’s my business.”
    MacTavish accepted a cup of strong tea from his wife. “I'll think about it,” he said. “Draw up the paper and let me read it.“
    “Fair enough.” Kincaid had a document ready in his pocket, but it did not include the five-year clause. Also, he knew by now what a mistake it would be to appear too slick. He sat still and drank his tea.
    “Come and see me tomorrow,” MacTavish said when he was ready.
    “I will,” Kincaid promised. He knew then that his fish was hooked.

    At a steady pace the unmarked police car rolled westward across the North Island. It was painted a conservative blue that drew little attention; only a close observer could have spotted the evidence of radio gear inside or anything else to show its official function.
    Superintendent Winston drove it with effortless ease. In an emergency situation he could make it do things that few drivers would dare to attempt, but he had no need for that advanced skill as he came close to staying within the speed limit. Beside him Peter Ferguson took in the passing scenery.
    It had been quiet inside the car for several miles when Winston broke the silence. “There are some things about New Zealand that most outsiders don’t understand,” he began. “You might want to know about them.”
    “By all means,” Peter said.
    “We are not as stuffy and stiff-necked as some people think. It’s just that we have certain priorities, and to us they’re important. For more than twenty years we’ve stopped the construction of high rises, not because they aren’t efficient, but they don’t go with the kind of country we have. Our schools must provide so much open green or playing area for each student they enroll. As a result, we’re insulated from urban blight and overdevelopment.”
    He stopped, continuing his driving with both hands smoothly on the wheel.
    “Peter,” he continued, “I was in your country not too long ago and drove south from Miami toward Key West. Florida is a beautiful state, but what I saw was an endless parade of neon signs, billboards, motels, fried chicken stands, parking lots, and liquor stores. To me it looked obscene.”
    “It probably was,” Peter agreed. “Too much commercialism will ruin anything.“
    “It’s certainly destroyed that part of Florida. We don’t want the same thing happening here. That’s why we aren’t interested in overpromoting our tourist industry, or having it done for us.”
    “I won’t argue,” Peter said.
    Winston turned at an intersection onto a new road. “Now, about Rotorua, where we’re going,” he continued. “It’s one of the prime tourist centers in the whole country. It’s an active thermal area with many hot springs and quite a few geysers. We have one geyser that is supposed to have reached twelve hundred feet; it’s dormant now. And there’s a geyser that goes off every morning at ten-thirty.”
    “I don’t know much about geysers, but that sounds odd to me. How can a geyser run by the clock?”
    “I can’t say, Peter, but fortunately it isn’t a police matter. More important at the moment, we have word that an aggressive buying team from Pricane arrived today in Auckland. After Mr. Kincaid meets with them, we may have to step in and explain some points of New Zealand law.”
    “Don’t expect them to be too impressed,” Peter warned.
    “We quite understand that. From information received, we expect them to come to Rotorua very soon.”
    “That figures,” Peter said. “What am I to do?”
    “Does Kincaid know you by sight?”
    “No, I’ve never met him.”
    “Good. What I want to do, Peter, is to set you up in Rotorua as an American tourist who has plenty of money, lots of time, and a local girlfriend. I’ll take care of supplying the young lady.”
    “I can carry that off,” Peter said. “I’ve been alone for a while. Your girl will look the part, I assume.”
    “You can count on it,” Winston assured.
    Peter remembered how vastly experienced Pricane was in the international