Chapter 25

On Friday, Maria sends me a photo of the man in Auckland City Hospital and follows it up with a phone call. I confirm that it is indeed Zoltan, as did Rāwiri, Hemi and Mikaere, she tells me. In the photo, Zoltan has both legs in plaster. She tells me that he had been badly beaten up.

The police wanted to find who it was who had seen him in hospital, but Rāwiri didn’t seem to be able to help them. He said that he had sent his photo of Zoltan’s identikit image to a number of his friends and asked them to pass it on to their friends to look out for him around town. “It was just luck that someone was in Middlemore and saw him.”

Rāwiri said he didn’t know who that was because his partner took a phone call on their landline from a guy who didn’t leave his name.

“That’s odd,” I say to Maria. If those friends broke his legs that could be how they knew he was in hospital. But I keep my mouth shut.

“We think so too. Do you think Rāwiri arranged the beating?” A tough question here from Maria.

“Mikaere told me he was once a gang member, but that was a long time ago.”

“Yes we know about that” Maria replied “and we think that his old associates wouldn’t do that for him unless he paid them. But he doesn’t have that sort of money.”

There is a moment when I could explain that he did have some ready cash but I let that moment pass. I don’t want to get Rāwiri into trouble after he saved me. Also, it could look as if I had bankrolled a hit. Maria says that they have formally arrested Zoltan on charges of assaulting me and Rāwiri. They aren’t pursuing the attack on Zoltan, as nobody is talking. As to Sammy’s death, while they have strong suspicions concerning Zoltan, they don’t have sufficiently convincing eye-witness evidence or any forensics implicating him. They haven’t been able to find his associate and believe he has left the country.

Life returns pretty much to normal and the end of the semester arrives. The curriculum review committee submitted its report but there is no immediate prospect of action. Aroha has been having discussions with the Vice-Chancellor but it is widely suspected that nothing will happen until the arrival of a new dean. Maria submits her research assignment on time, I mark it promptly as does the second marker. She receives an A, not too far off an A+ in my estimation. When the grades are released Maria contacts me, saying she is in town and suggests we meet up for a drink at a certain pub, which I don’t know. I am keen, partly because she can fill me in on any further developments with the case. I have been out of touch with what was happening, not that I have asked. Mikaere seems to know the pub and drops me off on the back of the Lambretta, in wet weather. I ask if he would like to come in but he says, “No, it’s not for boys.” Indeed, when I enter, I see nearly all the customers are women. It is clearly a gay bar.

Maria is already there sitting up at the bar against the back wall and waving at me. I slide onto the stool next to her and she greets me with a kiss on the lips. This is a date. I am a little surprised by this development but maybe shouldn’t be. Maria is looking good, dressed up more than usual: tight fitting designer jeans, dark top and light linen jacket. She is drinking a vodka tonic and orders one for me too. I steer the conversation to familiar territory, expressing surprise and pleasure that she worked so diligently and effectively on her directed study project in the circumstances. She then tells me she has a PhD in criminology.

“That wasn’t on your academic record!” I exclaim.

“No. That record was carefully drafted to look right and a PhD would have looked all wrong.”

I want to move on to talk about Zoltan and Sammy but feel inhibited by bar staff moving near us from time to time and other customers occasionally moving behind us. Maria directs my attention to the pub and the other customers and asks how I like it. In fact, I do feel comfortable here. We have a second drink and Maria gets a little more flirty. After a while she suggests we can talk better in her hotel room, which is close by. We hurry through some light rain whipped up by wind. I am better prepared for wet weather than she is. Her hotel room is warm and comfortable. I remove my rain jacket and take the only easy chair in the room. Maria takes off her light jacket, which is quite damp. Her sleeveless top reveals her beautiful shoulders, which remind me of Moana’s.

For a while, Maria reverts to her professional persona and brings me up to date. Zoltan has been exchanged in a spy swap with the Russian Federation, which was a useful outcome. There is no-one else they are interested in for Sammy’s murder. The current theory is that Sammy worked for the Chinese but what specifically prompted the Russsians to go to the lengths of murdering him on New Zealand soil remains a mystery. His death is no longer a priority.

After we have talked through these matters, Maria goes into the bathroom and turns on the extractor fan. She beckons me over and puts her finger momentarily to her lips. She draws me to her, her hand gently in the small of her back and whispers in my ear, “The place is bugged. I am supposed to seduce you and recruit you. I’m keen on the first part. Please go along with it.”.

I go and sit on the bed. Then Maria comes and sits next to me and tells me how much she has enjoyed the directed study aspect of the relationship. “I’ve enjoyed working with you,” I say. I then just lean back on the bed, as if tired. Maria needs no more encouragement. She lays her hand lightly on my belly and lets it drift downwards. “Does that feel good?” she asks.

Dumb question. Oh, of course, it’s for the listeners. “Mmm.” This may be difficult, playing to the microphones. A few minutes later, I forget about the microphones.