David thought back to the letter he had found. “So did you write to them about the discovery?”
“I started to, but after I’d discussed it with Sir Charles I agreed to leave it to him, because he said he’d be delighted to approach the Whanau Apanui. He also assured me of his complete respect for Maoritanga and the necessity to respect the wairua and the kaitakitanga. But I still had an anxiety about the uranium. He asked if I would still have the same objection if the mineral could be used for peaceful purposes. He told me that he was in touch with other scientists who had similar dilemmas and that he was working with them and a group of prominent citizens to promote the concept of scientific research for the good of humanity as a whole. He said this was a way the iwi could benefit.”
“I was blind not to understand what he was doing. He made me a member of the Scientists for Peace group he had established. He said there was no need for me to attend meetings as he would consult with me fully. He also told me shortly after this that he’d bought the property at Pataratara. It seemed an unusual step, but he explained it would preserve the confidentiality of my discovery and promised to consult me as well as the Whanau Apanui about any developments.”
“When I didn’t hear from him, especially about the Whanau Apanui, I asked him, but he told me I should trust him. I started getting anxious and secretly approached two of the scientists who Sir Charles had told me were members of his group. But I was in for a shock. When I talked to them, I realised that the Scientists for Peace was really a front for a much bigger international group, some of whom appeared to be white supremacists.”
“What sort of people were they?” asked Kate.
“On the surface they were intelligent, polite, cultured Pakeha people, deeply concerned at the direction of society, but if you questioned them closely, we had nothing in common.
“I asked Sir Charles again about the Whanau Apanui and he said he had a good relationship with them and repeated his assurances, but I couldn’t believe him anymore. I had terrible fears about the way they’d use my discovery. I began to have hallucinations. I saw myself dropping the bomb which I feared they would manufacture from my discovery. I couldn’t face people any more.
“I tried to hide myself away on a sheep station up from Gisborne on the slopes of the Raukumara. I thought I could work things out better there. But something was terribly wrong. I’d thought to restore Hone’s name but I’d done the same thing he’d done – only far worse. I’d betrayed the ancient teaching, I’d broken the tapu, I’d acted against the spirit of the mountains.”
David thought of Waitehaia. It was all coming together.
“And it was’t just my feeling. The first tutumaiao confirmed it. “
“I don’t understand,” said David.
“It is a Maori omen, a warning of disaster. I saw it over the Raukumara from Waitehaia. It made me desperate. I had to get my discovery back. I knew it was hopeless but I had to try. I went back to Auckland and got in to one of their meetings. He was there, but I only recall screaming at them. They thought I was having a nervous breakdown. But I knew the tutumaiao was right. After that all I remember is nightmares, horrible, horrible nightmares. They put me in that hospital and kept on giving me drugs but they only made me worse. I couldn’t have held on much longer.”
The sunken, lined face broke and his shoulders shook. “Thank you for not giving up on me, David,” he sobbed.
Strange time, thought Kate, for tears of joy. Among a kidnap party being pursued by the police and by who knows how many others. Yet she felt it too. The exacting life of an accountant, the weekends of bird watching with middle-aged ornithologists – both seemed shallow and artificial now. She was being carried along by something that caused her heart to beat more quickly, something that she had not previously experienced. She glanced sideways at David. She saw something in him which she had not seen before. He had been so self-centred, opinionated and insensitive. Now he was more relaxed, listened more and was gentler. Look at the way he had searched for Tane. That was the part of a true friend.
“Now Kate,” she said sternly to herself, “don’t get carried away.”
She was reminded that she had forgotten to pass something on. “Incidentally, David, your father doesn’t believe what the newspapers say.” He looked at her in surprise. “He’s so glad you’re alive.”
“I’m lucky to have a father like him.”
Kate smiled to herself. She wondered whether she would ever meet Mr Corbishley Senior.
“Isn’t it about time for the news?” David turned on the radio.
This is the New Zealand Broadcasting Service, Station 1YA. Here is the eleven o’clock news on Sunday 23rd January.
So far no trace has been found of the missing patient from the Glenfern Psychiatric Hospital who was kidnapped allegedly in conjunction with the Epsom church of St. Peter-on-the-Hill in Auckland earlier this evening. A controversial evening service was performed by the fifty-five year old vicar of the church, Archdeacon Harry Mountjoy. Police are seeking information about Dr David Corbishley, senior lecturer at the Geology Department of Auckland University, a former colleague of the patient. They have stated that he is the missing owner of a red Honda Accord which was found crashed near Opotiki yesterday morning following a previous incident at a local property. The police are also pursuing enquiries about the owner of a black Ford Cortina which was found abandoned at the church after the kidnap.
He looked wryly at Kate. “That’s my cover gone and my career. I’m sorry, but they may get you as well.”
“It’s all right. I was thinking of doing something else anyhow.”
The report continued:
Dr Randall Richardson, the prominent psychiatrist who is in charge of the Glenfern hospital and who is also the warden of St Peter’s Church, has disassociated himself from his vicar’s action and called for his dismissal. He has also requested an immediate enquiry into some of the services held by the Anglican Church, and has expressed serious misgivings as to the future safety of psychiatric hospital patients in non-secure institutions. The Bishop of Auckland has expressed grave concern about some aspects of the St Peter’s service and is expected to issue a public statement shortly clarifying the official Anglican position. He has in the meantime suspended Archdeacon Mountjoy from parish duties and arranged for him to take psychiatric tests.
Detective Inspector Molloy of the C.I.B., who is in charge of the case, has said that a search is being organised for the missing patient. It is believed that the 29-year-old missing man, Tane Ngata, is without his normal medication and could be dangerous. The public are warned not to approach him. He is Maori with dark curly hair, short in stature, and about 30 years old.
“Where are we heading?” Tane asked suddenly.
“Haven’t you guessed?” said Kate cheerfully. “We’re going to the Raukumara to look for Stan and Bill.”
Tane did not respond. Instead he turned pale and gave them a look which David could not fathom.
Too late David realised that he had not told Tane of their destination.
CHAPTER 33
It was five hours since they had left Auckland and they were not yet at Rotorua. They had had to follow little-used country roads to avoid possible roadblocks, and the car was painfully slow. To David fell one of the most dangerous stretches of the journey where they had no alternative but to follow the main highway to get over the ranges to Rotorua. The long straights and barberry hedges of the plains had given way to the sweeping curves and the rewarewa forests of the Mamaku ascent. The little Morris Minor whined and groaned as the gradient made itself felt.