Volume 2, Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It is Wednesday afternoon, the day Maria is coming up from Wellington. I was able to arrange an appointment to meet Professor Merrick at 2 pm. My cover was that I am investigating women in various professions cross-nationally including between the USA and Aotearoa-New Zealand. I made a point of including ‘Aotearoa’ in the name of the country in order to live up to an image of a Gender Studies Professor. Oh, I am not pretending to be a Professor of Gender Studies, or am I? I do occasionally succumb to imposter syndrome. Anyway, maybe now I am really a SIS operative and the academic role is my cover.

I take the train from Papatoetoe into Central Auckland, about half an hour. You have to walk up a fairly steep hill to reach the University of Auckland and the weather is warm but it is good exercise. I make my way through the campus to the far end where the modern science buildings are located. I thought I had plenty of time before my appointment but in fact I find my way to Merrick’s office just in time for our appointment. I knock on the door. There is no answer. I knock again and there is total silence within. No talking, no sound of typing. I wait for a few minutes, thinking he might return to his office any moment. Or perhaps he is taking a nap. I knock a third time and out of frustration I try the door. The desk is directly opposite the door and sitting in the chair slumped right over the desk is a man, presumably Professor Peter Eldon Merrick III.

A chill comes over me and I am transfixed for what seems like an age. I pull myself together and approach him to see if he has a pulse. I press my fingers to his neck and can't find one but possibly I am not in quite the right spot. He feels warm but he doesn’t appear to be breathing. He is face down on the desk so it is not easy to be absolutely certain. I get out my phone and dial the emergency number, 111. Just as it is ringing someone appears at the open door and gives a short high pitched scream. It is Suu Maung. I give her a wave of acknowledgement and ask the emergency operator for an Ambulance.

“There is a man here slumped over his desk. I can’t find a pulse. I need an ambulance quickly. I am at the University of Auckland, Science Building 301, Symonds Street. My name? Inka Makkonen. M, A, double K, O, N, E, N. Yes, I will see if someone will guide you to the room. Yes, they can call me back on this number.”

I turn to Suu Maung. “Do you know where the nearest administrator’s office is?”

Suu has composed herself and replies, “I think there was one down this way and to the right.”

We reach a faculty administrator’s office with an open door, bearing the name ‘Mary Tyler’ and there is a competent looking woman typing on a keyboard. I burst in.

“Professor Merrick is slumped over his desk. I have called for an ambulance. They may need help getting to the room.”

Mary just asks what address I gave, which I tell her. She is on the phone immediately to someone who can lead the paramedics to the right office. During that phone call, Suu Maung touches me on the arm.

“I am very sorry but I really need to leave you now. Will you be alright?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. We’ll be in touch.”

Mary asks me to go with her to Merrick’s room. While she seems very calm, I think she needs the support. We quickly reach the room. In our haste, Suu Maung and I had left the door open and the body, for in my heart of hearts I assume he is dead, is in full view. The corridor is empty, though, and I assume no-one else saw him.

Mary shocks me by saying, “That’s not Professor Merrick! I don’t recognise this man at all.”

“Oh! I had an appointment with Professor Merrick but I had never met him before.”

In fact, I had seen a photo of him on the website but didn’t study it carefully, and the sight of a slightly balding man with sandy coloured hair, face down didn’t contain anything to shake my natural assumption that the man in Merrick’s office was indeed Marrick.

Mary seems a little relieved as well as puzzled. She makes no attempt to check for vital signs. I half think we should be attempting vigorous resuscitation but I don’t say anything as I am not proficient at that and, anyway, I think it is futile.

“As this is someone you haven’t seen before, I think I should phone the police too unless you would prefer to,” I say,having my own reasons for thinking that this is likely to be a suspicious death.

“Oh, the police? Yes, I suppose so. No. You go ahead, but you can give me as the university contact. Mary Tyler, extension 8752.”

I carefully close the door this time and we walk back to Mary’s office.

“Let me find the number for Auckland Central Police Station for you,” she offers, and quickly finds it.

I walk into the corridor to make my call and I hear Mary also calling someone, very likely her supervisor. Before I make the call I quickly return to Merrick’s office and take some photographs of the scene from various angles in case that will be helpful. I then call the police station but it seems to take me a while to explain to the police switchboard operator the nature of the situation. He eventually puts me through to Detective Sergeant Smithers, to whom I repeat my explanation, including Mary’s name and extension number. He is economical with his words but to the point. He is clearly pondering whether the death is suspicious. It only then strikes me that of course I have met Smithers before in the investigation of Sammy Becker-Lau’s murder. He makes no acknowledgement of that, though, and sticks to the matter at hand.

“Have the ambulance paramedics arrived?”

“No. I only called for an ambulance a few minutes ago.”

“Has anyone touched anything?”

“I tried to find a pulse, unsuccessfully.”

“Don’t touch anything more. I will call you back in a few minutes.”

He does eventually call me back and says he would need to speak with me in person. I agree, saying I can stay at the University for the time being. He asks me, or Mary, to let him know when the paramedics arrive using the number he is phoning from. My guess is he wants to first see if the man is truly dead. I take the opportunity to phone Maria. She says she has just landed at Auckland Airport. Thinking in terms of the security of the line, I choose my words carefully.

“Look, something really strange has come up. At the University of Auckland I have just found someone slumped over his desk.”

“Dead?”

“I am pretty sure he is. I hope to see you later but I don’t know how long I will be caught up in it all. We are just waiting for the ambulance and probably the police.”

There is a meaningful silence at the end of the phone. It is not often you take Maria by surprise but this is such a moment. She just says,

“OK, text me to say where you will be and I will catch up with you when I can.”

She is being similarly cautious over the phone.

The paramedics show up with a trolley, or a gurney, as Americans say, and spend some time in Merrick’s office. I give Smithers a call, which he doesn’t answer but a couple of minutes later he arrives. He obviously has developed an interest in the matter. He goes into Merrick’s room and spends some time there. Eventually the paramedics emerge with the trolley with the dead body, for that is what it now clearly is, completely covered.

“Dead?” I ask.

Smithers just nods. He says he would like me to accompany him to the Police Station after he has had a few words with Mary, which seems to take about ten minutes.