The Kiwi Target

was a knock on the door; Jenny went to answer. She came back into the room with Peter behind her. “Anne,” she said, “I’d like you to meet a very close friend of mine, Peter Ferguson.”
    At her mention of the name, Kincaid reacted in spite of himself. He got to his feet automatically as Jenny, with seeming innocence, concluded, “Mr. Kincaid—Mr. Ferguson.”
    “I’ve heard your name,” Kincaid said as, out of necessity, he shook hands.
    “And I know yours,” Peter replied. “This is quite a change from South America, isn’t it?”
    As Kincaid sat down he made a determined effort to recover his poise. Ferguson definitely knew who he was and why he was in New Zealand. There was something that the icy-minded Lloyd in the Pricane tower had not foreseen. But that didn’t matter: if he failed now, Kincaid’s own head would roll.
    Jenny was not through. “Anne, Mr. Ferguson is a special consultant to the minister of tourism.”
    The title was new to Peter, but in his early youth he had learned, if a ball came his way, to catch it and hang on. “I came by,” he said, “because we’re most interested in any transactions you may have with Mr. Kincaid.”
    Anne nodded. “Then perhaps, Mr. Ferguson, you’ll be able to advise me.”
    Kincaid could have strangled Peter with his bare hands. He made a quick decision to appear amiable for the moment and wait for his opportunity.
    “Peter, would you like some tea?” Jenny asked.
    “Yes, thank you.”
    Kincaid opened his counterattack. “What brings you to New Zealand, Mr. Ferguson?”
    “Business and recreation,” Peter answered.
    Kincaid did not challenge that. “I hear you’ve inherited a piece of land,” he said, still in his agreeable manner.
    “A station, actually,” Peter replied.
    “How large is it?”
    “Something around forty thousand acres.”
    Kincaid maneuvered a fresh opening. “Mr. Ferguson, I presume you know that some very aggressive Hong Kong interests want to put up a large hotel in this area.”
    “Yes. I understand they’re after this very spot.” The moment he stopped, he knew that he had walked into that one—he had given Kincaid the exact response he had wanted.
    While Jenny brought in fresh tea, Kincaid made his next move. “As you may not know, I recently resigned my former position to accept the presidency of an ecologically minded construction firm with a fifty-year reputation for respecting the environment.”
    “I’ve heard of it,” Peter said.
    “You know also that Mr. and Mrs. MacTavish were approached several times to sell their property.”
    “We dinna care to do that,” Anne said.
    Kincaid acknowledged her at once. “I well understand. This was your home, and you were happy here.” Maintaining his facade of cordiality, he turned to Peter. “What I am offering, Mr. Ferguson, is twenty-five thousand dollars for a five-year option on this property, should Mrs. MacTavish ever decide to sell.”
    “Should I take it, Mr. Ferguson?” Anne asked.
    “You should have good legal advice first,” Peter answered. “I know a man you can trust.”
    The atmosphere of polite conversation vanished abruptly. Kincaid’s outer manner did not change, but when he spoke his voice was abruptly sharp and hard. “Mrs. MacTavish, I know a great deal about this man. He is not here for the reasons he gave you—he lied. He came here originally to attempt to defraud some important New Zealand investors.” Kincaid burned Peter with a look that was intended to bore through him. “What is more, Mrs. MacTavish, I happen to know that he was detained by the police recently on very serious charges.”
    Peter sat quietly and kept his composure. Kincaid’s skilled use of half-truths made a complete denial impossible. The Smiling Assassin had lived up to his reputation.
    He looked at Anne MacTavish and for the first time saw shrewdness in her eyes. “Ye did say that ye came here for recreation, Mr. Ferguson,” she said.
    Peter was very careful. “Right now I’m seeing New Zealand in the company of Miss Holbrook.”
    Anne MacTavish nodded. “Aye, that would be recreation," she agreed. “Now, what can you tell me about this Mr. Kincaid? I heard you speak about South America.”
    Jenny looked at him also waiting to hear his answer.
    “For several years Mr. Kincaid has been in Brazil, managing a division of the same conglomerate that would like to acquire this land.
    “One like Trans-America, or Gulf and Western?”
    That