The Stalking of Louise Copperfield

by Robert W Fisk

  “Thank you for your report, Mr Jones,” said the Mayor. “I would not like to think that this change of heart of yours had anything to do with your wife leaving you to move in with Mr Copperfield. However, I think that you are over the top with your safety requirements, perhaps to cover yourself if something untoward were to happen. You approved the plans for Larcombe Developments subject to certain matters which included deep piling down to bedrock. I am told that technology has moved on since you were at university Mr Jones, and we no longer require deep piling. Continuous Raft foundations will allow the buildings to float on a layer of polystyrene, a reinforced concrete floor sitting on top will buckle and twist but will remain firm.”

  “Ms Hoar is not my wife and never was,” said Nigel. “Let me make quite clear that Ms Hoar has been free to leave me at any time. That was her wish, and I honoured it.”

  The Councillors were aghast at the personal tone of the Mayor’s remarks. Some looked stunned, but some of them put their heads down in embarrassment at issues in the Town Planner’s personal life being used against him.

  “I say,” said the only woman on the Wahanui City Council, Mrs Annette Grieve. “Mr Mayor, your comments are far too personal. Please withdraw them.”

  “I do not have to withdraw what is fact,” said the Mayor. “Ms Hoar has left Mr Jones in favour of Mr Copperfield. Now Mr Jones has changed tack. He no longer supports Mr Copperfield’s work as he did in the past. Instead, he seeks to inflict damage on Mr Copperfield.”

  Three Councillors stood up to walk out. They agreed with Annette Grieve. The Mayor had lost the plot.

  Before they could reach the door Nigel rose to his feet. Although a small man, he had an impressive voice and could generate considerable charisma. The three men stopped to hear him out.

  “Mr Mayor, I disagree with you in all respects. There is no malice in my proposal. I am simply doing my job. I fully support the work and opinion of my staff who investigated this building site. Furthermore, I think your comments about my private life in what is a public meeting are actionable and I will consult with my lawyer,” Nigel said calmly.

  He paused and then continued. “I speak not as a deserted partner but as the Wahanui Town Planner. In that role, I recommend that further work on the Huatere residential housing construction site be suspended pending investigation of the builder’s adherence to the consent issued, namely deep piling as per the originally approved specifications.”

  There was a silence while Councillors thought this through.

  “There is more. I refer to the report drawn up by my staff with regard to the shopping mall on the old sports field. Although certified steel was mandatory, the project used a cheaper grade from China. I mention the old sports field because this land was not developed due to the geology of the hillside above it, the place where Copperfield is building a large housing estate. Had he followed the approved plan, the houses would have been secured to bedrock. Without deep piling for all the houses– I admit there are some houses that comply – the whole complex could slide down the hillside in a mudslide, something akin to an avalanche but slippery soil instead of snow, crashing into the walls of the shopping mall below.”

  Nigel had their interest. Safety was at stake. If anything untoward happened, the Councillors would be blamed for going against the advice of the Chief Planner.

  Nigel continued. “The walls of the mall are light concrete panels, held in place by the roof. Snow was not taken into account when the design was submitted, and nor was an avalanche of mud. Because the builders, Copperfield Building Limited, have not used steel certified to New Zealand Standard AS/NZS 4600:2018 in particular and other standards specified in the Building Consent and noted in my report the beams in the roof and consequently the steel studs holding the walls in place and the roof up may not be able to resist the force that may be generated. Therefore I move that a stop work be placed on the shopping mall enterprise until the builder and the developer comply with our building code on both sites.”

  The Council disagreed loudly. They thought that the Chief Planning Officer’s scenario was far-fetched. They could see that the Field Officers’ reports outlined several compliance issues but they failed to accept what Nigel was saying.

  “The two projects, the Huatere Valley Housing Development and the Huatere Mall, have brought employment,” said McIvor. “Business is booming as a result of the work.”

  “Hear, hear.”

  Nigel was disappointed with the reception of his report. United in opposition by a series of phone calls initiated by the Mayor, the Councillors were fully in favour of business interests.

  “Gentlemen, and Mrs Grieve,” Nigel said. Annette Grieve smiled at Nigel. She liked his unfailing courtesy and thought that Nigel Jones was a good man. ‘Just a shame about his wife,’ whom she met at Bridge Club, she thought. “Please accept my professional advice and stop all work until the developer and the builder comply to the conditions in the plans and building specifications that we have approved.”

  “Your main points are a failure to pin the foundations in the houses above the mall, and Chinese steel being used. Don’t knock the Chinese,” said Armstrong. “They have put a lot of money into the project and it’s only right the steel should come from them. Also, as the Mayor said, technology has improved and your view of things is unlikely to come about. ”

  “Thank you, Mr Armstrong. I am sure you are correct. Gentlemen. we have two proposals arising from the Town Planner’s Report,” said the Mayor. “Mr Jones has moved them. Do we have a seconder? Anyone?”

  There was no response. Annette Grieve walked out of the room, not because the Mayor had ignored her presence but because she could see that the vote would be lost even if she seconded the motion. It was better to leave and to fight another day. The reporter for the Wahanui Times followed her to the door to ask her to remain for a comment.

  Nigel stood up again. “I am saddened that you have lost confidence in me. My job depends on trust, and I find that lacking. I therefore have no option but to resign. Mr Mayor, please accept my verbal resignation. I will formalize it in writing in the morning.”

  There was silence. Feet were shuffled, papers rustled, then there was total silence.

  “Thank you Mr Jones. You may leave us now. Moving on,” said the Mayor. “The Dog Handler reports that the new Huatere Valley development has a problem with roaming dogs.”

  Nigel pushed his papers into his satchel and left the room. He was followed by the reporter for the Wahanui Times, whose report made the front page in the morning.

  Nothing was done about either project. After all, modern materials were designed to make these sorts of problems disappear, and the Mayor had looked on the internet and had no reason to worry. He did not realise that a monster storm was about to descend on Wahanui and on him as Mayor.

  CHAPTER 63.

  Storm clouds had piled up on the mountains to the west, collected there by the high peaks that corralled the weather and usually left the east in a rain shadow that gave seemingly endless fine weather. The clouds came from a depression moving down from the tropics. It held torrential rain that had flooded Queensland, over in Australia and almost as far away from New Zealand as London is from Moscow. With warm sea temperatures, the depression sucked up more moisture as it moved slowly across the Tasman Sea. Wahanui residents expected the clouds on the mountains to disperse as they normally did, but the clouds continued to grow. The black clouds piled up on the mountain tops like a threatening pride of black panthers waiting for the right time to pounce.

  Larcombe felt the lowering weather but thought that it reflected the way he felt, angry and intimidating, because if the truth of Jones’s resignation was allowed to come out, he would not only go to prison but would no doubt be sued for breach of contract. Unable to find Nigel to ask him to withdraw any comments, Larcombe turned to the Wahanui Times.

  Max Harrison was the Duty Editor at the Wahanui Times. He looked at the copy on the screen in front
of him. It was front page stuff, the Town Planner walking out, crying if you don’t stop a major project people will be killed. Harrison thought that the developers should know about the story before it went viral. He checked with Stuart Larcombe before printing the story.

  “It’s one helluva story, Stuart,” he said.

  “I don’t like it,” Larcombe said. “It sensationalises something that happens frequently, a civil servant throwing spanners in the works to cover his backside in case things go wrong. I think your reporter is a tragedy queen, foretelling doom, death and disaster when of course there is that risk, but the probability is so minuscule that it won’t happen in the next thousand years.”

  “That’s what sells papers,” said Max Harrison. “Sensation.”

  “Yes, but it also holds up the projects with enquiries and Facebook outrage and having to prove something that is beyond the comprehension of ordinary people,” said Larcombe. “Look, Max, this is going to cost me really big bucks. I’m going to call in a favour; I’m holding your gambling debts. If I call them in, you’ll lose your house and probably your job. I’ll hold off and will pay off your debts if you tone everything down, make it look like an ordinary Council meeting with a flaky Town Planner who’s having a nervous breakdown. The real story might be the workload and the heavy responsibilities carried by people like him.”

  After Larcombe’s call, Harrison substituted Gail Garrot’s story about Nigel’s shock announcement with her initial report on the Council meeting, and buried it on page twelve, Community Affairs.

  Stuart Larcombe had previously arranged with a filing clerk to have all plans and specifications related to the Huatere Valley Housing Project substituted by ones that had been doctored by a professional forger in India. In none of these there was there mention of pinning the concrete foundations to bedrock, or that New Zealand steel should be used.

  Because the replacement story written by Gail Garrot mentioned the failure to support Nigel Jones’s report without specifying what the report was about, Stuart Larcombe was interviewed on news programmes on television and Radio New Zealand, where he spoke calmly and assuredly.

  “Mr Larcombe, you are the developer involved in both the Huatere Valley Housing and the Huatere Shopping Mall Projects,” the interviewer, Jerry Masters said. “Mr Jones produced a report that has been withheld from the public for commercial reasons. The summary of the report states that both projects are being built to plan and specifications but Mr Jones, currently on sick leave, expressed concerns that this was not the case. Would you care to comment?”

  “Mr Jones has done a fantastic job getting these projects underway so quickly and thus providing much needed employment. My main builder, Copperfield Building Limited, is a firm with complete integrity that is building according to specifications detailed by Mr Jones himself. The steel used in the Huatere Mall was more than adequate for the design, and is currently being cross-checked in order to apply for New Zealand Standards mark. It is not of low quality. It simply lacks the stamp of authority.”

  The interviewer wanted to hurry over the comment about the steel proving to be of adequate strength. “But didn’t Mr Jones ask for work to halt on the Huatere Mall and the Huatere Housing Project until tests could be done?”

  Stuart was well prepared to answer her.

  “The matter of Mr Jones’s report was taken In Committee, I understand. According to Ms Garrot’s report on the Council meeting, Mr Jones’s report was read and discussed and was received by the Council, but because the issues were In Committee and commercially sensitive no comment was made about further inspections on top of those the Council has conducted as construction progressed.”

  “Then how did Ms Garrot get that information?” asked the interviewer.

  “I have been told that Ms Garrot left the meeting to talk privately to Mr Jones. He must have told her things that were not aired at the Council Meeting. I am afraid Mr Jones is unwell,” Larcombe replied. “His job is huge and really the Wahanui Council should have employed a qualified deputy planner to take a lot of the stress off him. The stress of his job has proved too much and I think he has gone to some kind of sanatorium but you would have to ask his partner, Frank Copperfield, about that.”

  The interview was well received by the public of New Zealand. Many people sent Nigel Get Well cards and emails to the Wahanui Council offices.

  Larcombe pulled strings to discredit the Wahanui Times reporter Gail Garrot. He threatened a heavy law suit against the paper should they print her story at any time in the future. When Ms Garrot protested, Larcombe asked Harrison for an investigation into her journalistic integrity, and asked for the initial New Zealand Press Association release to be revoked. Ms Garrot was fired.

  Larcombe decided that Nigel Jones had become a liability. Like Joe Hamilton, he had to go.

  CHAPTER 64.

  It was relatively early in the evening but Louise was tired. She loved doing the documentary programmes for television but afterwards she felt exhausted for days. She fell asleep in front of the television and woke at nine thirty. A light tapping on her front door woke her.

  “Who is it?” she called, her voice croaky from sleep.

  “Nigel Jones. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Louise assumed Nigel wanted to talk about Charlotte and Frank. She really liked Nigel and had been disappointed when he had hooked up with Charlotte, even though Charlotte was a friend of hers, well a sort of friend. Unlike Charlotte, Nigel was a good friend, steady, reliable, uncomplicated.

  “Come in Nigel,” Louise said warmly. “I was just having a snooze.”

  Louise could see that Nigel was upset. He sat on the couch so she sat beside him to comfort him. She put her arm around his shoulders and felt him shaking.

  “Whatever’s happened?” she said.

  “I’ve resigned,” said Nigel “Not just resigned. Spat the dummy. Thrown the toys out of the cot.”

  “Tell me about it,” Louise said, softly stroking his cheek. His skin was so soft but she could feel the stubble of his beard. She had heard that as long as a man could grow a beard he still had enough testosterone to ..... Her thoughts were interrupted by Nigel removing his arm from her shoulders.

  “You’ve drifted off,” laughed Nigel. “You must be really tired or I must be really boring.”

  “It’s not you, Nigel. Well, it is you. When you’re around you relax me. I’m so comfortable with you I can doze,” whispered Louise. She stopped stroking his face and took his hand.

  “I told the Council that they should close down the shopping mall until new steel can replace the Chinese uncertified. That’s a big call. The shell of the complex is finished and the supermarket has opened. Now subcontractors for each lease will fit out the other shops. It’s a busy time. Delays cost money and prolong the time that loans have to be serviced. I think the Council will be sued.”

  “And if they don’t close down and replace the steel?” murmured Louise as she squeezed Nigel’s hand lightly.

  “One day. Tomorrow? Next week? Next year? Maybe even next century the roof beams will give way. They will twist and bend, drawing in the walls that hold everything up. The walls are load bearing pre-cast concrete sheets called pan joists. They are built to take weight vertically but will not manage a large sideways force, like a mudslide. Certified steel studs, the uprights, would be strong enough to support the weight but if the walls supporting them and the studs themselves are also weak, then everything will fall down.”

  Nigel’s voice was soft and slow. Even though the scenario he was describing was horrific, Louise felt calm in his arms.

  “It gets worse,” said Nigel. “I told the reporter that the present plans and specifications had been modified but that I had copies of the originals and intended to make them public. I don’t believe Frank has driven piling down to bedrock on the Huatere Estate and when I checked the final papers for the permit, that condition was missing. It had been removed.

  “I told the
Council to pull the plug on any more houses until engineers can check what Frank has done. Heavy rain, an earthquake – we are in an earthquake zone – or simply the weight of more houses could see the whole lot slide to the valley floor and into the shopping mall. That ground wasn’t left as a sports field for no reason, you know.”

  “Oh My God.” Louise normally did not blaspheme but she was shocked by the scale of Nigel’s responsibility. “What are you going to do?”

  “They voted to ignore me,” said Nigel. “Not openly. They just would not accept my recommendations. The Wahanui Times lady saw me after I resigned. I did an interview on the spot. Council papers altered! Danger in Huatere Valley. Headlines tomorrow, all over New Zealand.”

  “I’ll stand with you,” said Louise. “You are a good honest man and you need a good honest woman to stand beside you.”

  Her words were ambiguous. Louise had not intended them to be. She simply meant that she would support Nigel. It was a cue for Nigel to tell Louise what he had come for.

  “Louise, I’m about to book a flight to the States. I have to go to the Caribbean to get my money sorted out. Then I’m not sure where I will go,” Nigel paused, took her hand in both of his and looked into her eyes. “Probably back to Wales first to see Mum and Dad and my sister. Will you come with me?”

  Louise sat silently for some time. Nigel waited patiently. He knew that in her mind she was thinking of Kezia and Alexander, of the Calling Out Monsters committee.

  “I don’t know,” she said. Suddenly she knew what she must do. She had not felt like this for a long time. She stood and pulled him up. “Come on, Nigel. Bed time.”

  CHAPTER 65.

  In the morning Louise woke refreshed. Nigel lay beside her sleeping soundly. Louise had not had sex since the attack just after New Year so she felt a little sore but she did not mind. She went quietly to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.