Farm Kill Read online

  FARM KILL

  A RICHARD WEST THRILLER

  ROBERT W FISK

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  FOXBURR PUBLISHING | 13 ARMADALE STREET | MOSGIEL | NEW ZEALAND 9024

  DEDICATION

  DISCLAIMER

  COPYRIGHT © Robert W Fisk, 2018.

  OTHER BOOKS BY ROBERT W FISK | You Talk You Die | The Fern Valley Conspiracy | Farm Kill

  PEOPLE IN THE STORY

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  5.

  6.

  7.

  9.

  10.

  11.

  12.

  13.

  14.

  15.

  16.

  17.

  18.

  19.

  20.

  22.

  21.

  23.

  24.

  25.

  26.

  27.

  28.

  29.

  30.

  31.

  32.

  33.

  34.

  35.

  36.

  38.

  39.

  40.

  41.

  42.

  43.

  44.

  45.

  46.

  47.

  48.

  49.

  50.

  51.

  52.

  53.

  FOXBURR PUBLISHING

  13 ARMADALE STREET

  MOSGIEL

  NEW ZEALAND 9024

  DEDICATION

  This story is for Elaine, always there when needed, a loving companion through all our adventures.

  DISCLAIMER

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, organisations, events and incidents are the creation of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

  COPYRIGHT © Robert W Fisk, 2018.

  Dr Robert W Fisk has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  OTHER BOOKS BY ROBERT W FISK

  You Talk You Die

  The Fern Valley Conspiracy

  Farm Kill

  PEOPLE IN THE STORY

  Keeping up with characters can be difficult, especially if the story is fast paced. Here is a list of people in the order which they appear:

  Richard West, teacher

  Alex West, Richard's wife

  Jo Hannah West, Richard and Alex's daughter.

  Brendan Geddes: young truck driver

  Ironman: truck driver

  Lonny: Ronnie. Truck driver, no R sounds

  Robert and Jeanne West: R's parents.

  Ashleigh Moffit, housekeeper for Greg Somerville, niece of Bryce Tomlinson

  Bryce Tomlinson: Farm Advisory Officer, Farms Unlimited. Uncle of Ashleigh

  Greg Somerville: farmer, Sally has deserted him.

  Lance Somerville, Greg's autistic son.

  Mr Tricksy, a female German Shepherd dog.

  Sally Somerville,left Greg for Philip Zinsli's

  Philip Zinsli, neighbouring farmer

  Georgina Zinsli, Philip's missing wife.

  Mr Weatherall, child psychologist for Grantville

  Michael Bainbridge, self employed counsellor

  Kelvin Jordan, a journalist with the Guardian."

  Joan Armstrong, teacher at Te Kouka School.

  Charles Smythe, family lawyer

  Mr Middleton, Sally's lawyer

  John Hopgood, Mediator

  Michael Bainbridge, counsellor

  Hemi, client of Michael

  Andy, client of Michael

  Anita Anisich, Department of Social Welfare.

  Rita Haversham, Secretary

  Rewi Tamihana, constable

  Senior Sergeant Mayhew no name (Tom) .(Senior)

  Cyril the Squirrel, drug dealer

  Mr Middleton, Sally's lawyer.

  Superintendent Martin Frobisher, Regional Commander

  Trevor Simonson, rescue helicopter pilot

  CONTENTS

  PART ONE: FOUR YEARS EARLIER

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  PART TWO: TWO YEARS EARLIER

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  PART THREE: PRESENT DAY

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  PART FOUR: THE EARTHQUAKE

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  PART FIVE: THE FARM

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  PART SIX: DEATH

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  PART ONE: FOUR YEARS EARLIER

  1.

  Georgina Stafford Zinsli was in love with Philip Zinsli. Georgina was forty four, a little older than Philip, who said he was thirty eight but she thought perhaps forty three. She was tall, about five ten, willowy and blonde, a teacher of mathematics at Grantville High School. Her face was angular, with thin lips drawn over a tight mouth. Her nose was sharp, as was her tongue. Not the Belle of the Ball, Georgina nevertheless made up for her lack of beauty with her dress sense.

  Dressed up, she looked like a million dollars. Georgina loved clothes, good clothes, and since her father had died, she could afford to buy whatever took her fancy. He left her three million dollars out of his huge fortune, a bequest she resented since it was such a small part of his enormous wealth.

  George Stafford had been a stock broker who made a fortune during New Zealand's experiment with a free market economy. A whirlwind fire sale of State run assets made him rich as he bought up cheaply, stripped the assets then sold on to overseas companies. George Stafford was part of a small group of investors who bought and sold among themselves, gaining tax benefits when selling at a loss. He lived for money. His death at fifty came as a shock. He was a man in excellent health, at the height of his productive life until his car was run over by a train. His 'Driving across a railway line in Wellington while high on cocaine' appeared in the mass media as 'sudden death in tragic accident'. Miranda, his third wife, died with him but barely got a mention.

  Georgina stood by the front door of the farm house. Strangely, perhaps because it was so different from anything she had known in the past, she loved Gresham Downs. It was an isolated place, at the end of an isolated road in an isolated part of the world. The fields were brown rather than green because it was January, summertime in New Zealand. The house faced north, into the sun, which warmed Georgina's thin angular body.

  There was a scruffy macrocarpa hedge to shield the ho
use from the searing north west winds, winds that could lift the soil from the face of the earth and send the dust down the valley in brown curtains. Today was calm with no dark northwest arch of dark clouds to herald the hot fohn wind. Between Gresham Downs and their neighbouring farm stood a grove of cabbage trees on a ridge. The cabbage trees, cordyline australis, known as te kouka by the local Maoris, stood silhouetted against the egg shell blue of the eastern sky as if they were carved from flat sheets of ebony. Below the palm tree shapes of the cabbage trees the sky was the palest lemon.

  She had been with Philip for over two years. In her previous relationships Georgina's money had been a problem that resulted in her kicking out her then current partner. Until Philip, it had seemed that people only valued her for her wealth. Philip was different. He lived very simply. His Toyota Hilux pick-up truck vehicle was three years old. The income from his farm paid their expenses and he demanded nothing from her. Until recently she had held her own bank account separately from Philip's. Her salary as a teacher was paid into her personal account, together with the interest from the capital that was invested by her accountant.

  Philip had made her look closely at what she was getting in return for her investments. Philip had to harry the accountant for an effective investment disclosure. It took some months before the accountant could produce relevant documents. When Philip reviewed the financial report, he could see that the accountant was taking a large slice of Georgina's investment earnings, and some of her investments were paying less than one percent. Philip's trained eye could see that some very low interest bearing investments had been replaced recently.

  Although she was a mathematician, Georgina knew nothing about finance. Her father had managed all of the family's affairs. She had left all of her dealings in the accountant's hands. Now she felt warm inside when she thought of the help Philip was giving her. She had loaned Philip two hundred thousand dollars to build his new abattoir. The slaughterhouse and the adjoining refrigeration unit had allowed Philip to register as a farm kill butcher. Until now he had been selling meat illegally, with no licence. As soon as the slaughterhouse and cold store became operational, Philip's business boomed. He ran a breed of sheep called MeatMaker. These produced exceptional meat, providing Philip with a very good income.

  Philip had helped Georgina invest her money more wisely. Recently, to make it easier to move money around, Georgina had opened a joint account with Philip. She found to her surprise that this lessened her tax burden considerably, not only because she now shared her income but also because of depreciation of the farm assets. Georgina did not understand how developments to the farm offset tax but was surprised at how little tax she ended up paying. Philip suggested that she put two million dollars in the joint account and keep the rest in her own account. This pleased Georgina because it gave her a safety line if things went wrong. She knew about risk as her father had often talked to whichever wife he was married to at the time, in front of Georgina.

  Georgina gave a little sigh of contentment as she turned and went back into the house. She loved the old house, which had been built in the 1920s. It was solid timber, unlikely to suffer major damage in an earthquake. She knew that a brick chimney had fallen at some stage but the house was rock solid. Having lived in modern apartments all of her life, Georgina was charmed by the mellow elegance of the farm house. It was a single story bungalow, with a wide verandah to the north where she and Philip could sit and have breakfast, which she began to prepare as soon as she entered the spacious farmhouse kitchen.

  Georgina loved the wooden counter. It was made of kauri, as was much of the house. Under the bench were neat tilting bins for sugar and flour, plus drawers for everything a farmer's wife might need. The kettle was boiling on the coal range, although there was an electric jug if she did not want to light the fire in the heat of summer. Georgina made tea for both of them, and toast for her, cooked on the glowing coals using a cute old-fashioned wire frame to hold the slices of bread.

  As soon as Philip came in from milking the house cow and feeding the dogs and chickens, Georgina cooked his breakfast; sausages today with three fried eggs and French fried potatoes which she made from the boiled potatoes left over from the night before. Philip started with a cup of tea, black with no milk nor sugar, while he waited for Georgina to serve his meal.

  "Should be a mail day," he said. The post was only delivered three times a week. It meant a long walk or a drive to the mail boxes at the fork in the road. He knew Georgina liked to meet the neighbour, Sally Somerville, for a chat when the rural delivery driver came. As regular as clockwork, the mail was delivered at ten o'clock, one of the last of the deliveries that had started at five in the morning.

  "Won't be much, it all comes by email now," said Georgina.

  "Bloody useless internet," said Philip, his usual comment about the slow dial up service that took forever to download even small amounts of data. It was very costly, too, and restricted how much they could download; no shop catalogues, no travel brochures, no software apps could be downloaded. They were far too big. Georgina did most of her browsing at Grantville High School. She had a school key and could drive to the school at any time but it was a long way, about twenty miles, so she only used her school computer when she went shopping and time allowed. Sometimes Sally came with her.

  Georgina worried about Sally. She had become quite depressed. She had an awful son, a little boy who just stared into space. He was an absolute trial, throwing tantrums if he didn't get his own way. Sally had to guess what the boy wanted. Still, he was a child, and Georgina felt her body stir with longing. She knew Philip did not want children, but perhaps if she got herself pregnant he would accept the situation? Now would be a good time, as she and Philip were so happy together, and her biological clock could stop ticking at any time.

  PHILIP HAD CUSTOMERS at his cold store. They were from Christchurch and had stopped because their relatives in Grantville had told them that Philip's was the best meat around. The couple were short and dumpy. Philip was six three and towered over both of them. The man was wearing a tee shirt that bulged over his shorts. The woman was in blue slacks and a matching top with long tight sleeves. The tight sleeves emphasised her large breasts.

  "It's a bit more than I wanted to pay," said the customer's wife. She obviously made all the decisions on household spending, while the man looked as if he spent his time holding up the local bar.

  "Tell me about these MeatMasters?" asked the man. "Why is their meat so dear?"

  "The animals are really expensive to buy," said Philip. "They are bred for their taste, a bit like Wagyu beef."

  Philip knew that Wagyu beef was the current craze, and thought that he might buy into that breed as he developed his beef herd.

  "But you just mate them up and get heaps of lambs for free," said the customer.

  Philip had heard this line before.

  "Yeah, right," he said. "That's why I drive the Mercedes over there." He nodded towards the Toyota. "These sheep have the normal expenses for drenching and vaccinations; it's the vet who drives the Merc. And the bank takes a huge cut, of course."

  "And the IRD get their share," agreed the man. "But you do save on shearing, don't you?"

  "MeatMasters shed their hair, so there's no shearing to pay for, but also no wool cheque to bank," replied Philip. "We do save a bit because they don't need crutching or dagging, and I normally never tail them."

  When Philip smiled, his dark looks and flashing white teeth caused women to catch their breath.

  "I'll take some," said the woman, surprising her husband who had not noticed the flush that had developed on the woman's face. "How much do I need for a main meal?"

  She stood closer to Philip, who saw that she had once been pretty.

  "I think half a kilo would be good for two meals," said Richard. "Lamb steaks are quite a new cut on the market. Very filling."

  "Half a kilo for two meals? Two hundred and fifty grammes each?" The husband was incred
ulous.

  "Oh, yes," said Philip. "More than enough with MeatMaster steaks. They are very filling with no fat. Just solid protein. Get a full stomach without getting fat!" he jested.

  "I'll have some chops as well, please," said the lady, softly and sweetly. "How much will you give me?"

  Philip enjoyed the flirtation. "As much as you can take," he said. "How is your appetite?"

  "Great. Insatiable. Much better than his," she replied.

  The husband could not understand the repartee. He ate far more than his wife. "Six," he said. "Make sure they are big ones."

  "Thank you, sir," said Philip. "You do know that you are charged by weight, not by number, don't you?"

  "Of course I know that," said the man, when obviously he didn't.

  Georgina watched her husband with his tall, lean figure deal with the chubby customers. He certainly was a catch. She was very pleased with life.

  "I'm just off for the mail," she said.

  "Is it far?" asked the woman.

  "About a kilometre," Georgina replied.

  "We'll drop you off," said the woman. "Is it before or after that horrible wooden bridge?"

  "It's about hallway to the bridge," said Georgina. "Thanks, I appreciate your offer."

  The couple dropped her at the two mail boxes at the fork in the road. The leg of the Y led to Te Kouka then to Grantville. One arm led back to Gresham Downs while the other went to Te Kouka Flat, where Sally lived. Four signs nailed to the cross bars on Philip's farm gate read: "FOR, FARM KILL, GO RIGHT, P Zinsli." Across the road, nailed to the gate on the other farm, the sign read "Cabbage Tree Farm. J Edwards." The sign was faded and worn by seasons of sun and wind and snow. A finger board pointed up the road to "Te Kouka Flats Farm". Greg and Sally had never got round to taking the old sign down and putting their own sign up in its place. Georgina saw Sally walking down the gravel road towards her.

  "Hi, Georgina, "You're here before me," said Sally.

  Georgina thought that Sally looked tired and sad.

  "Hi Sally," she said. "Yes, I got a lift. Is everything all right? You look a bit of a mess."