“It was just the way he acted after his return.” He hesitated. “I could pick the signs.”
“But he didn’t tell you.”
“I’m afraid we had a quarrel instead.”
“Do you think he told anyone else?”
“Not as far as I know. He embargoed all his research.”
“Ah – what a pity! And now the huia has blocked all possibility of development.” He mused. “So Tane would have been disappointed that his discovery might never be used.”
David wondered whether he should query this opinion, but after a pause he continued: “Geologists learn to live with other people’s decisions.”
Sir Charles looked at him searchingly. “So you yourself don’t get too involved with political decisions – even where your own research is concerned?”
It was a slightly uncomfortable question, but Sir Charles quickly went on. “Have another coffee. How are you getting on with your search anyhow?”
David described the visit to Waitehaia, and how he had lost the scent. “I’ve got the idea that he’s a fugitive.”
“But he’s done nothing wrong – drugs or anything like that, has he?”
“I think he’s a fugitive from himself – like Cain.”
“I know the story well. You mean Tane is so disappointed about not being able to use his discovery that he can’t face life anymore?”
Again the words jarred. Obviously, Sir Charles did not know what really motivated Tane. He hesitated. Should he put him right? No, it would take too long. “It’s something like that.”
“I suppose you’re afraid he may harm himself?”
“Exactly,” he said gratefully.
Sir Charles put his fingers together again and half closed his eyes as if he were pondering a legal issue. “David, while speaking with you, I had a thought about Tane. If I recall, he did his doctorate at the Australian School of Mines at the Australian National University at Canberra.”
David nodded. “It was on the mineral resources of the Grey Range north of Broken Hill near the Sturt Desert.”
“What do you think was the distinctive thing about that research?”
“It was the historical and spiritual relationship of the landowners, the Aboriginal tribes, to mineral exploration, discovery and development. He lived among them for a while to gather his material. I believe the research was not popular in some quarters because it was thought it might encourage the Aboriginals to claim millions from the mining companies in compensation.”
“I thought that was his background, and I can understand the caution with which it might be received. As you may realise, I have extensive overseas university and mining contacts. I can’t promise anything, but would you mind very much if I did some detective work on your behalf?”
“I would really appreciate it.”
Sir Charles made some notes on a little pad. “I wonder if you could help me a little now. I understand you have been doing some research. I have some very substantial overseas clients who could be interested in your work. What do you think are the most likely areas – discounting of course the area of which I am an advocate?”
David was amazed. “How did you find out about my work?”
Sir Charles beamed. “My work on the Council is very hands-on. I make a point of knowing about all the research which is going on – that is…” the dimple appeared again “…all the important research.”
Eagerly he hastened to answer the question he had always wanted to be asked. “Coromandel, Paparoas and Tasman Mountains. These are Forest Parks, but there are certain clauses in the Crown Minerals Act, Forest Parks legislation and District Plans. In my paper I have suggested how these clauses may be used to obtain mineral licences. The most important is the public interest aspect.”
“Even though the environmental groups now have access to legal aid?”
“The benefit to the economy of the country can be proved to be more in the public interest than the locking up of large areas of the country for the exclusive use of certain minority environmental groups. We can of course protect the valuable tourist revenue by inserting minimum environmental impact clauses.”
“I see I’ll definitely have to watch out for my huia sanctuary.”
David laughed.
“I have a client who’s leaving for the United States tomorrow. If you can manage it, I would very much like you to meet him before he goes. Can you come here at four o’clock today? Of course, I don’t want to interfere with your search.”
“Not at all. I need a break from it.”
CHAPTER 12
“I am very happy, Dr Corbishley, with your approach.”
The gentle, scholarly man with the soft New England accent did not conform to the usual public conception of the director of one of the world’s largest mining companies.
David leaned back in the leather chair balancing his cup of coffee. “I thought you might be interested,” he remarked.
“It’s always a challenge going through your legal procedures,” said the American. “But we have a good reputation for social responsibility. The relevant Park authority would be provided with active recreation facilities, and trails and historic features developed for the tourist trade. The local community would be offered a wide range of welfare and employment opportunities. We would ensure that all our processes are ‘minimum environmental impact’. There are new methods of below-surface extraction and large helicopters are now used for access and transport, and we are able to transport the product for processing elsewhere. We would develop our contacts with the indigenous people and insist on a full process of consultation with them, which may include prayers and blessings at the different processes of exploration, extraction, processing and export.”
Sir Charles beamed across his desk. “So do you think, David, that the likeliest areas for Dr Magnusson are the Coromandel and the Tasman Mountains?”
“These areas have always been extremely mineral rich, but the environmental lobby has succeeded in preventing further development. However, I would envisage that with a combined economic benefit, employment and tourism thrust, we would appeal to the business and farming interests in the area as well as to the Ministry of Forestry. Moreover, if the product is processed in the economically disadvantaged towns of the area such as Waihi and Thames, this would also be seen as in the national interest.”
Dr Magnusson, however, was not smiling. “Our company has had reports of trouble with some of your iwi. Road attacks, I believe.”
“Don’t concern yourself,” replied Sir Charles, “I have already discussed your development with the Deputy Prime Minister and some key ministers. There is a plan being drawn up with the police for urgent action against the small group of troublemakers who I believe will shortly be apprehended.”
The director was smiling again. “I would like to retain you, Dr Corbishley, as our New Zealand consultant. Would you be so good as to provide my fellow directors with a presentation setting out the mineral potential of this area and the procedures to be followed in attaining resource consent? Money is of course no object. Just let Sir Charles check it, and then send it off as soon as you can, and I’ll get things under way.” He looked at his watch. “Charles, have I got a plane to catch?”
“Your chauffeur is waiting at reception.”
“Charmed to meet you, Dr Corbishley.”
David looked ruefully at the Queen’s Counsel. “Nice man and I’d like to help him, but I had committed the rest of my vacation to searching for Tane.”
“Of course you had. And very proper too.”
“I don’t know whether I can find the time to do both.”
The great man smiled. “I think you may. Since this morning I have spoken to a friend of mine on the Council at the Australian National University. He contacted Professor Carson in the National School of Mines who supervised Tane’s doctorate and knew him well.”
“Yes, Tane often talked about Prof Carson. They seemed to have a lot in common. Tane s
aid they would sometimes go off together to the Grey Range. He showed me photos of those great red peaks rising right out of the Sturt Desert.”
“The professor rang me and expressed the opinion that if things went wrong in New Zealand, Tane might well return there. I mentioned Tane’s trouble. He said he could imagine Tane in those mountains shutting himself off from the world, part hermit, part explorer and part prospector. He also mentioned Tane’s unusual rapport with the Aboriginal people.”
“You mean he would see that place as a bolthole?”
“That’s my intuition. It says in the Bible that Cain went away and lived in a land called ‘Wandering’. Look it up in Genesis 4:16. If ever there’s a land of wandering, it’s the Australian outback.”
He was surprised at the great man’s biblical knowledge, but he did not think he would be looking it up. “I suppose it’s a possibility,” he said hesitantly.
“I can’t guarantee my theory, but it would do no harm to investigate.”
“But what about the report for Dr Magnusson?”
“No problem. I’ll arrange with him that you’ll start on it when you are free or when you return in a fortnight’s time.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I wouldn’t like to let him down.”
“Now as to Tane, I have contacts in the mining companies who are exploring in the Broken Hill area, and they always have an eye open for genuine bush prospectors. If he’s in the mountains, some one will know and there are always the Aboriginal trackers.”
“It’s good of you to take so much trouble.”
“I’ve asked them especially to check the Aboriginal contacts.”
“Do you think he might have gone bush?”
“It’s a not uncommon reaction to disappointment. However, I think you’ll agree that we must do all we can to ensure that this brilliant mind is brought back into the community.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Not at all. Just part of my job on the Council.”
Sir Charles Hawthorne was as good as his word. A telegram was delivered later that afternoon.
MINING COMPANY MANAGER BROKEN HILL RANG STOP APPARENTLY GEOLOGIST LIVING WITH ABORIGINALS GREY RANGE. STOP NEVER APPEARS THEREFORE NOT IDENTIFIED STOP CARSON SAYS ABORIGINAL CLAIMS HAVE MARKS OF NGATA THESIS. STOP YOU MIGHT LIKE FLY OVER CHECK OUT SITUATION STOP REGARDS HAWTHORNE.
That evening a special courier called with two return tickets, one Air New Zealand to Sydney and the other Qantas to Broken Hill. The Sydney plane left at 6 p.m. on Friday. A little note was attached to the tickets. Courtesy of the Anglo-American Consolidated Mines.
CHAPTER 13
A shy man has problems which he cannot share.
David had his own bolthole.
The steep, narrow road which led to the summit of One Tree Hill was lined with the terraces and trenches of the old Maori fortifications. Life was much simpler then. You knew who were your friends and who were enemies. David almost envied the Maori defenders. As their attackers breasted the stockades, they would leap up and strike at them with their meres.
He had got on uncommonly well with Sir Charles and Dr Magnusson, and the openings were huge. But something jarred. Did Sir Charles really understand Tane? Was Tane’s disappointment at not being able to use his discovery the reason for his acting like Cain? And those last words, “…we must do all we can to ensure that this brilliant mind is brought back into the community.”
Dammit! Was that what Tane really wanted?
He left his car in the parking area and walked moodily up the steps leading to the obelisk. Suddenly he realised that the sky had grown dark and it was cold. A great black cloud had rolled up from the Tasman. Driving rain was lashing the Manukau Harbour. Soon it was sweeping up the slopes. In a moment it was upon him. He retreated to the car.
A young woman in walking shorts had dashed down the summit road and was trying to keep dry in the shelter of the wall. He opened the car door and yelled out, “Get in!”
She was a tall, rather attractive person with glasses and short, straight brown hair. She looked at him searchingly before she slid in, then smiled. “Thanks.”
The rain appeared to have set in.
The legs were disconcerting, especially at such close quarters in his Honda.
“I’m David,” he said, determined to keep to the social niceties.
“Hi, I’m Kate.”
“Taking a walk?”
“Just a quickie. I decided I needed some fresh air. I’ve been at two school holiday programmes this morning and the kids can be a pain.”
“Are you a teacher?”
“Yuk, no! I only talk about the huia.”
It came out involuntarily. A little groan quickly suppressed.
She noticed. “What’s up? Do they bug you?”
“It’s just that I’ve been hearing a lot about huias lately.”
“Huia,” she said just like a schoolteacher. “It’s a Maori word. They don’t have s’s. What’s the problem?”
“Well – I guess there’s more than one way of looking at things.”
She stiffened perceptibly. “I don’t think I understand you.”
“I have a colleague who’s a geologist.”
“Really,” she said in such a way that there was no doubt what she thought about that occupation. “So you’re against the sanctuary?”
“No, it’s not that. He may have visited that valley.”
There was an edge to her voice. “And why would he want to do that?”
“I don’t know. He never told me. And now he’s disappeared.” He turned and looked at her for the first time. “You see, he was my friend and I need to find him.”
She took off her glasses and looked at him. He was surprised to see that her eyes were warm and sparkling. “That’s different. I’m sorry.” The city below was invisible in the mist, and the storm and the rain had made them prisoners. “Tell me about him.”
Kate knew almost immediately who David was because she was a friend of the McTaggarts, they all being members of the Alpine Sports Club.
Small city, Auckland!
Eleanor had told her all about David’s visit to the church and was concerned about Tane, but Leone had thought he was unbalanced. Kate decided to listen and form her own opinion. His sincerity was convincing and as he spoke she was drawn into the story. In the meantime the rain gradually increased in intensity, drumming on the roof, and the light outside grew dimmer. The thundering of the water and the increasing darkness had an unusual and disturbing effect upon Kate. She found herself imagining a deep, dark gorge with precipitous bluffs and tumultuous white waters.
Suddenly she was afraid. There was something about that valley that Eleanor had sensed. When the storm subsided a little so she could talk she looked at him uncertainly. “I have not been quite honest with you. I’ve already heard some of this from Eleanor McTaggart.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “They told me about the search. I hope they find her husband.”
She paused. “It’s not that simple. I haven’t told anyone else, but I think there’s something wrong with that search.”
“But surely they’re being very thorough?”
“Only if you go on what Stan wrote in the hut book at the Upper Waiwawa Hut.”
“I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”
“They haven’t really thought about what sort of person he was.”
“I met him once,” he said. “He came to our Department before Christmas.”
“What did you think of him?”
“I tried to help him but wasn’t able to.”
These academics were maddening. “You haven’t answered my question.”
He fumbled again. “He seemed to have his own agenda.”
“Why don’t you say what you think?” she flared. “What about ‘stubborn, opinionated and rude’?”
“We didn’t exactly hit it off,” he said cautiously.
“I think you ought to know something. He an
d Kevin Carr were both members of the Ornithological Society and they hated each other’s guts.”
“Really? Why?”
“Both political fanatics – but at opposite poles.”
“But I still don’t understand why that would be important.”
“Look at the scenario. Stan hears that Kevin has discovered a huia in his precious valley, the one he has set his heart on discovering?”
“I expect he would be a little disappointed.”
“A little!” she said scathingly.
“You would know him better.”
She snorted, but then continued. “I had news this morning about the search. One of the parties found broken branches of leatherwood on the eastern slopes of Devil’s Peak leading down towards the Waitoa.”
“Is that so? Did they follow the trail?”
“Not very far. It stopped at some bluffs and they didn’t get permission from DOC to go any further into the huia sanctuary. I think the search organisers concluded it was just a track to get water.”
“I read in the paper that Stan and Bill were going into the Waitoa originally, weren’t they? But they changed their route when they heard about the huia.”
“That’s what they said in the hut book. But they had a rope. They could have got down those bluffs.”
“I can’t see what you’re getting at.”
“John McTaggart was the leader of that party. He knew about the rope, but in the circumstances he didn’t push the point. He’s just the opposite of Stan. Never puts a foot wrong. Wouldn’t want to do anything to embarrass the search controllers. The trouble is he doesn’t really understand how his brother’s mind works.”
“Surely Stan wouldn’t write a false entry in the hut book?”
“Stan can do some pretty strange things if he gets really upset. There’s another thing that worries me. Those two have been tramping together for yonks – well – since University Tramping Club which would be at least twenty-five, thirty years. They’ve been in the toughest bush country in New Zealand. Stan never goes on tracks. He’s one of the best route-finders in the Alpine Sports Club. Bill can rustle up a fire with rata shavings even when the bush is dripping wet. They can swim down rivers, climb down bluffs and cut their way through impenetrable leatherwood and supplejack. Both are extremely fit for their age. If one had an accident, the other could always get out. They could survive where a much younger party would panic or do something crazy and die of hypothermia. They’re the people that search, not the ones who get lost. What I can’t understand is Bill. If Stan goes off the rails, Bill will always bring him back. You see, Bill is about the only person Stan ever listens to.”
Show Me a Huia! Page 7
