The Meeting

  The meeting with Blundell, in Mr Service’s office, was scheduled for 10.30 am the next day. So when the children left with Pierce after breakfast to play tennis at the Services’ home, Peleiupu asked Tavita how he thought they should handle the meeting.

  He looked at her. ‘Are you trying to make me feel good by asking for my advice?’ She shook her head. ‘You don’t have to cajole me, Pele. I know you’re the brains in our partnership, so you’ll have to do most of the negotiating. I’m no good at it.’

  ‘Blundell is going to assume that, being the man in our partnership, you’re the boss.’ She smiled.

  ‘Are you going to play to their stereotype of you as the dumb, obedient wife who knows nothing about business?’

  ‘He’ll also be assuming we’re naive, gullible, easily intimidated darkies.’

  ‘And we should encourage that. Pele, as you well know, I don’t have the confidence or nerve to carry it through.’ For the first time in their marriage he didn’t mind pleading: there was too much at risk.

  She leaned forward and, pressing her forehead against his and breathing in his breath, said, ‘I love you. All the people in Satoa and Apia have enormous admiration and respect for you. Without you we wouldn’t be where we are now.’

  ‘Yeah, in the shit, our lives and everything we own at stake. I’m so scared I’m getting fear-diarrhoea like Mautu used to.’ He tried to laugh.

  ‘I’m afraid too, but we can’t get out of this one,’ she whispered. ‘He won’t let us.’

  ‘So, as you’ve said in the past, we just have to prepare well?’

  She nodded and kissed him. ‘Your father and Sao, my parents and Fatutapu are with us.’

  For most of that day they prepared in great detail, trying to cover all the options. They called in Bart for his advice and to finalise protection for them and their children; they called in Tom to recheck some of the information about Blundell — especially on his weaknesses, and to hear Tom’s planned measures to counteract any violent moves by Blundell.

  The children were tired from tennis, so straight after dinner the girls kissed them goodnight and retreated to their bedrooms. Peleiupu asked Iakopo if Naomi was all right. ‘She says she’s looking forward to going to Samoa,’ he told her. ‘We love her.’ When Tavita asked him about school, Iakopo explained he quite liked it but was finding the papalagi students disobedient and ignorant. ‘Shall I get you a drink, Papa?’

  ‘No, I have to think straight tomorrow,’ Tavita replied.

  Iakopo headed for his bedroom, stopped and asked, ‘Uncle Arona and Aunt Areta didn’t die in an accident, eh?’ Tavita looked at Peleiupu. ‘Naomi told us they were killed.’

  ‘It’s best you don’t know too much about it, son,’ Tavita said finally. ‘We want you to look after Naomi and your sisters.’

  ‘What if something happens to you too?’ Iakopo asked.

  ‘Nothing will happen,’ Peleiupu insisted. ‘Mr Brant and others will make sure we’re safe.’

  ‘He’s so much like his grandfather,’ Tavita said as Iakopo left.

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘Mautu.’

  A short while later they got into bed but couldn’t sleep. They held each other, got too hot and decided to sit on the balcony.

  The slow wind from the harbour wrapped itself around them lazily, cooling them. From the dark streets below rose the dumb noise of traffic and, as they gazed up, they allowed the upward-swirling movement of the star-seeded heavens to grip their fears and whoosh them away. ‘Perhaps the bird will visit us tonight,’ she remarked.

  It didn’t.

  They were dressed and had breakfast ready when the children joined them. They tried not to appear tense but sensed, from the children’s subdued and careful behaviour, that they knew. ‘I want to say the karakia this morning,’ Naomi offered. They held hands around the table and bowed their heads. First she prayed in Maori then in English, her fervour and commitment reminding Peleiupu of the way Arona had told his story.

  ‘… Our Father, please protect us today. Take special care of our parents, Pele and Tavita, who continue to face threats from our enemies. Make them strong, give them the courage and determination …’ As Naomi prayed, they grew stronger in their resolve.

  Shortly after breakfast, which they had forced themselves to eat, Cynthia Waters arrived to take their children to a South Auckland farm and horse-riding — Bart had arranged protection for them while they were there. The children embraced them. Tears welled in Iakopo’s eyes. ‘We’ll be all right,’ Tavita assured him.

  While they waited for Bart, they checked — again —that they had all the papers they needed for the meeting, and then sat in silence trying to still their fears. ‘You look really in control,’ she complimented him. She straightened his tie and waistcoat and readjusted his watch-chain.

  He brushed bits of fluff off her suit. ‘Yeah, a real businessman. And you look the really supportive, loyal, obedient businessman’s wife.’ She flicked his chin.

  Not long after, they were in Bart’s car, heading down Queen Street to the impressive Service Building, nursing their fears. ‘Don’t worry about the children,’ Bart said. ‘My people will protect them with their lives.’

  They stopped at the entrance. ‘Good luck,’ Bart said. Peleiupu avoided looking at him. Tavita nodded, got out and held the door open for Peleiupu, who handed him his briefcase.

  They strode into the building, their shadows leading them.

  Mrs Twobells, Service’s grey-haired secretary who’d looked after them on their previous visits, met them in front of Service’s office and took them down the empty corridor to the board room. She opened the door and led them in. ‘I have got morning tea ready if you’d like some.’ They accepted her offer. In the scent of gardenia that filled the room, Peleiupu caught the whiff of dampness and mould.

  It was a large, oak-panelled room, with a massive kauri table and padded chairs around it. Portraits of stern-looking men — previous partners? — lined the walls.

  Just as Mrs Twobells was handing them their cups of tea Service strode in, smiling, hand extended. ‘Good morning, David,’ he said, shaking Tavita’s hand. ‘Beautiful day. Reminds me of what it’ll be like on Judgement Day.’ Tavita recalled that Service was a senior Methodist deacon. ‘Mr Blundell and his team will be slightly late.’ No apology — powerful and important people didn’t need to.

  ‘I’m sure Mr Blundell is the busiest man in the country,’ Tavita said, smiling wryly.

  While they waited, they discussed other business opportunities, with Service addressing most of his advice to Tavita. Peleiupu listened and looked attentive, smiled and nodded at the appropriate moments.

  Half an hour later Mrs Twobells returned with two expensively suited middle-aged men, who bowed once and stepped aside. Through the gap between them lumbered Mr James Blundell, leaning on his intricately carved ivory walking stick. Long white hair and tidy beard, round rosy-cheeked face sprinkled with age spots, thin red lips, pale white skin that emphasised the blackness of his suit, which had been tailored to try to disguise his weight. It was the piercing blue eyes that held Tavita. His heart started racing and his breathlessness returned. He steadied a little when he felt Peleiupu’s firm grip on his arm.

  ‘Mr Blundell, I’d like you to meet my friends from Seemore, Mr and Mrs David Barker,’ Service said. Blundell waited. Tavita took a step forward. Blundell stretched out a hand and Tavita gripped it.

  ‘How do you do, young man?’ Blundell said. ‘I’ve heard good things about you and your beautiful wife and children.’ He deliberately slowed down his English. ‘You’re the first Seemoeans I’ve had the pleasure to meet.’ Tavita stepped aside. Peleiupu came forward. ‘And you, Mrs Barker, are even more beautiful than Mr Service has described you.’ She showed no fear or distaste. She smiled, eyes lowered appropriately. Turning to his companions, Blundell introduced them as the managers of the companies in which the Barkers were interested in investing. Tavita didn’t catch their names.

  They took their seats at opposite sides of the table, with Service sitting with Tavita and Peleiupu. Blundell and his managers declined Mrs Twobell’s offer of morning tea. In the presence of Blundell, the usually in-command and forceful Service was subdued and ingratiating, Peleiupu observed.

  ‘I’ve studied your requests, Mr Barker, and I see no problems,’ Blundell began. ‘In fact, I welcome your interest in my company, which always needs new investors!’ He guffawed, tiny flecks of spittle scattering into the air. ‘But even more important, I need intelligent, savvy, up-and-coming investors like you, Mr Barker.’ He nodded towards his managers.

  ‘We understand, Mr Barker, you want to invest in our meat operation?’ the first manager with the round bald head asked.

  ‘Yes, sir, that is correct,’ Tavita replied. Then he added apologetically that he wanted to double the amount he’d asked for earlier. The manager glanced at Blundell. ‘Is that all right?’ Tavita asked.

  ‘I can vouch for Mr Barker,’ Service said. ‘He’s made and is still making a fortune in copra. He also owns about twenty stores in Seemore.’

  ‘I like that, like that!’ Blundell exclaimed. ‘Good on ya, young man. I like to see Meorees and others like that succeeding.’

  ‘We’re still a modest company, but, like you, sir, we want to grow and become immoderately wealthy!’ Tavita said.

  ‘Yeah, beautiful: grow with me, boy, and be immoderately wealthy. I like that!’ He guffawed again; this time the spittle was thicker. Tavita kept beaming; Peleiupu kept smiling. ‘So be it, Mr Barker. A very generous sum of trust in me. Anything else?’

  ‘We also want to invest more in your property company, sir,’ Tavita continued.

  ‘You don’t mind my calling you David?’ Blundell asked. Tavita shook his head. ‘Welcome aboard, David, to your company. You’re the first native shareholder I’ve allowed in.’

  His second manager then took over. ‘At the moment, Mr Barker, Morric Heedstead, a very successful Australian company, handles all our business in the Pacific,’ he explained. ‘Why should we give that to you, sir?’

  ‘As you know, sir, we don’t want and can’t handle the whole Pacific operation. We just want Samoa, our little country. We can handle that.’

  ‘What can you provide that’s better than Heedstead’s?’

  ‘We know the country better; we’re influential there. Besides, in exchange, we want your company to handle our copra in New Zealand and Australia. That’s worth quite a bit now.’

  ‘Great move, son!’ Blundell exclaimed. ‘Welcome aboard again. I don’t know shit from copra but they tell me it’s good money!’ When he guffawed this time, the spittle sprayed across the table and over Service’s papers. They pretended not to notice. ‘David, you’ve thought of everything, and I love and admire that!’

  ‘Anything else, Mr Barker?’ asked the second manager, with the ill-fitting plate of false teeth.

  ‘Perhaps you can suggest other ways we can benefit from our new relationship, sir?’ Tavita ventured.

  The managers glanced at Blundell, who laughed and said, ‘Good move again, son. We’re a very large and varied company. We’ve got our sexy fingers in just about every juicy business orifice in this voluptuous country, and Aussie. You’re welcome to put your delicate fingers in some of those!’ He started guffawing again, coughed and, thumping his massive chest loudly, stopped.

  ‘Thank you for the offer, sir,’ Tavita said in the voice he’d used whenever he’d wanted a favour from his father.

  ‘We can discuss those orifices later, David,’ Blundell said. ‘Meanwhile, Mr Service, who I’m sure you’re paying extra well, and my overpaid jokers will go away and draw up the appropriate papers to clinch our new relationship.’

  Service and the managers got up and left.

  ‘Don’t know about you, Mrs Barker, but whenever I finalise a lucrative deal, I get unusually thirsty and hungry!’ He guffawed again but averted his face from Peleiupu’s direction.

  ‘I’ll get you a cup of tea and some cakes, sir,’ she offered. As she moved to the tea tray she could feel Blundell’s gaze exploring her body, but she kept smiling.

  After she served them tea she deliberately sat beside Blundell and opposite Tavita. She served Blundell biscuits and cake. He obviously liked being fussed over, so she even put sugar in his tea and stirred it.

  It came unexpectedly; they’d planned for it but hadn’t expected it then. ‘By the way, Mrs Barker, how successful have you been in tracing your brother?’ Blundell asked, his voice heavy with concern as he dunked his biscuit in his tea.

  Lowering her gaze, her stance emanating sadness, she said, ‘We have found him.’

  ‘That’s wonderful, Mrs Barker.’

  ‘He died with his wife in a motor accident near Kaikohe.’ She emphasised each word. Tavita caught a look of suspicion in Blundell’s eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry, so sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to be nosy.’

  Peleiupu bowed her head, hands clutched to her face. ‘That’s all right, Mr Blundell.’

  Tavita took over. ‘Arona didn’t exactly lead an honest, sin-free, Christian life. No, sir! The police said he and his wife had been drinking a lot.’ Then, gazing directly at Blundell, he said, ‘But of course you knew about Arona’s accident, sir.’

  An amazed blink, then the haughty, arrogant blue eyes were upon him. ‘How do I know about it?’

  Control yourself, no anger. ‘You had them killed, sir, and we know you know we know.’

  Chuckling softly, Blundell said, ‘Why would I want your brother dead?’

  ‘Because he was an old business acquaintance who knew too much about your past, sir.’

  ‘He also wanted to settle scores. Against me!’ They could hear his heavy, menacing breathing. ‘Why are you buying into my business?’ he demanded, cold suddenly.

  ‘Because it is a profitable investment,’ Tavita replied. ‘Your companies rate in the top ten in Australasia, sir.’ He paused and then, smiling, he said, ‘And as part of our insurance policy.’

  ‘Meaning what, boy? I don’t like clever half-castes!’ That dug in painfully but Tavita didn’t show it.

  ‘We’re now at your mercy. You know that, sir. We’re in your city, where we’re unfamiliar with the rules; our children are in your boarding schools …’

  ‘We warned you, David. We told you not to keep looking for Arona.’ His voice had softened again, his gaze was less menacing. ‘You’re very perceptive, son, but your wayward brother wasn’t. He tried to fight me in my own patch. Foolish, very foolish.’ He sighed. ‘David, what guarantee do I have you won’t turn against me like your brother-in-law did?’

  Trying to sound ingratiating, Tavita replied, ‘We are leaving our children in your schools as your hostages, as a guarantee that we’ll always be your obedient business partners, sir.’

  ‘My brother lied because of the nature of the business and life he’d chosen, sir,’ Peleiupu helped. ‘His life couldn’t have ended any other way. As devout, God-fearing Christians, like you, Mr Blundell, we condemn the sinful, vengeful criminal life that he led.’

  ‘You don’t love him enough to seek vengeance, in an Old Testament sense, Mrs Barker?’ Blundell asked, carefully.

  ‘We didn’t see Arona for thirty years, sir. We met him recently and we were shocked because he was not only a total stranger but a violent, unrepentant criminal. He’d trampled on the whole Christian traditions of our family. My parents would’ve rejected him as their son. We reject him too.’

  ‘Besides, what’s vengeance got to do with doing business and making money, sir?’ Tavita asked.

  ‘Shit, son, I like that. I like that!’

  ‘As my husband has told you, sir, we’re just a simple Samoan family who’re at your mercy because of our brother and not through any fault of our own.’ She bowed her head and wept silently into her handkerchief. Tavita reached over and held her arm.

  ‘Your brother, Mrs Barker, was a beautiful and very bright young man when I first met him.’ Blundell sounded sad. ‘Yeah, as quick as the flash of a white shark’s hungry teeth. Bloody quick. Great brain, quick learner. I taught him a hell of a lot.’ He smiled. ‘Introduced him to the pleasures of the world and to his own enormous appetites and hungers and abilities.’ He laughed softly. ‘I did love him, treated him like a younger brother. Yeah, and he returned that with his growing knowledge of business, which came in useful in expanding our business. But he was too trusting. Underneath that brain, that cunning criminal inclination and ability, he was still the honest pastor’s son. Yeah, he trusted me. Or should I say, the pastor’s son trusted the crude and violent, devious Mullheath I was then.’ He continued laughing. ‘He built our business, modernised it. You could say, he became a large shareholder in my business. You could also say he still is a shareholder, because he’s never withdrawn his investment. And you’re only adding to that.’ Were those tears in Blundell’s eyes? Tavita wondered.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Barker, I’m very pleased that you’re being realistic and sensible. This is business, strictly business. Your brother ended up mixing business with a suicidal desire to destroy me.’ Tavita tried to look grateful as Blundell reached over and clutched his shoulder. ‘Son, you and your beautiful family are not going to regret investing your money and loyalty in me. You’ll receive huge dividends in money, patronage and protection.’ He reached down and grasped Peleiupu’s hand. ‘You and your children are safe with me. You have my word on that, Mrs Barker. You are family.’

  Still holding her hand, Blundell struggled to his feet. ‘Getting too old and fat,’ he sighed. He bent down and kissed Peleiupu’s hand; his lips and breath were warm on her skin. ‘You’re very beautiful, like Arona was beautiful.’ Peleiupu lowered her eyes. ‘David, you and I are going to go a long way together.’ Tavita tried not to wince as Blundell’s heavy grip tightened around his hand.