Falls waited for him on the far side at the foot of the mound, but as soon as Dikon reached him he turned and led the way onwards to the gap in the manuka hedge. Here a man stood on guard.

Even when they were beyond the fence he could still hear the sound of Taupo-tapu, the grotesquely enlarged domestic sound of a boiling pot.

Chapter 13
Letter from Mr Questing

Strangely enough the sensation that was uppermost in Dikon’s mind was one of embarrassment. He would have to speak to Falls about what they had seen, and like a man who hesitates before making a speech of condolence he did not know how to form his phrases. Should he say: ‘I suppose that was Questing’s head under the sack’? Or, ‘That settles it’? Or, ‘That disposes of Ackrington’s theory, doesn’t it?’ It was impossible to find the right phrase. He was so occupied with his preposterous difficulty and, at the same time, suffered such a violent feeling of nausea that he didn’t notice Eru Saul and was startled when Falls spoke to him.

‘Hullo,’ said Mr Falls. ‘Can you direct me to Mr Rua Te Kahu’s house?’

Dikon thought that Eru must have been standing in a recess in the hedge, perhaps peering through the twigs, and that he had turned quickly as they came up to him. He was coatless, and wore his puce-coloured shirt. Bits of dry manuka stuck to it and to the front of his waistcoat.

Mr Falls pointed the ferrule of his stick at the recess. ‘Can you see the working party from here?’ He squinted through an opening in the manuka. ‘Ah, yes. Quite clearly.’ He picked a twig off the front of Eru’s waistcoat. ‘Terrible affair, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘And now, as we have a message for Mr Te Kahu from the police, would you mind directing us?’

Eru said: ‘Have they found him?’

‘ “A part of him.” Forgive the inadvertent quotation. His skull, to be exact.’

‘’Struth!’ Eru whispered and showed his teeth. He turned and walked quickly up the path to the marae and they followed him. Old Mrs Te Papa sat on the verandah floor with her back against the meeting-house wall. When she saw them she shouted something in Maori and Eru replied briefly. Her response was formidable. She flung up her hands and pulled her shawl over her face.

‘Aue! Aue! Aue! Te mamae i au!’ wailed Mrs Te Papa.

‘Good God!’ cried Mr Falls nervously. ‘What’s she doing?’

‘I’ve told her,’ said Eru sulkily. ‘She’s going to tangi.’

‘To wail,’ Dikon translated. ‘To lament the dead. Think of an Irish wake.’

‘Really? Extraordinarily interesting.’

Mrs Te Papa continued to wail like a banshee while Eru led them to the largest of the cottages that stood round the marae. Like its fellows it was shabby. Its galvanized iron roof was corroded by sulphur.