Matt leaned over and slapped the lamp’s switch. He rolled back into bed and tossed and turned until he finally found what seemed like a comfortable position. It wasn’t, but after a while, he fell asleep anyway.
CHAPTER 18
Matt looked down at his watch when he saw Aimee approach him. Three minutes late. Not bad at all.
‘Hey,’ Aimee said when she stood in front of him. ‘Sorry I’m late.’
‘You’re not late.’
‘I saw you looking at your watch, silly.’
‘Sorry. Old habit. Picked it up in Switzerland.’
‘You’ll have to tell me all about it sometime.’
‘I will.’
‘So I thought we could go to Mission Bay for lunch. It’s a nice little spot just around the harbour from here.’
‘OK. We’ll walk then?’
‘Don’t be daft. C’mon, the car’s parked in the Downtown Shopping Centre,’ Aimee said, pointing over her shoulder at the building behind her.
Twenty minutes of fighting a steady stream of traffic along the coast later, Aimee had squeezed her little hatchback into a spot that Matt thought was suitable for a motorbike. The girl knew how to manoeuvre a car, that much was certain. They climbed out and walked along a row of restaurants, many of which had outdoor seating overlooking the road, a park, and beyond that the harbour. Matt would have been happy with any of them.
‘Shall we just grab something from McDonalds?’ Aimee asked.
Any of them except for McDonalds that was.
‘Sure,’ Matt said, not wanting to rock the boat.
‘OK. We’ll get something to take away and go and sit up at the Savage Memorial.’
Matt agreed, despite having no idea what Aimee was talking about. They went into the burger joint and Matt randomly picked out a burger. He wasn’t vastly experienced in McDonalds dining. He hadn’t been since he was a kid. He had to admit though, it did smell good. Fries always did.
They walked up a path of stairs and onto a large green parkland area. As they strolled over the headland towards the coast, a monument and long pond came into view. Aimee explained that this was a memorial to Joseph Savage, New Zealand’s first Labour Prime Minister. Being built on a gunning placement from the Russian Scare, it had good views of the harbour and made a nice place for a picnic. Matt had to agree.
They sat and ate lunch, making small talk about the view and weather, but Matt had something else on his mind. It had eaten away at him all night. He had hardly slept a wink. The guilt of hiding an archaeological find was more than Matt had bargained for. Combining that guilt with the worry that was building about being exposed was even worse. Then there was his last conversation with Aimee. Were people talking about him? Really? Was he coming off in a good or bad light? What did the DCI know about him? All of these questions span around in his head, demanding answers. Worst of all, though, was something else. It was the doubt that had plagued him since yesterday. The concern that he was in New Zealand on a wild goose chase. That Warren was too deeply entwined in his theory to see what was significant and what wasn’t. Up until now, the only really significant finding that Warren had shown him was the mirror. Everything else was speculation. Great supporting evidence, but everything hinged on the mirror, and for now, Warren wasn’t revealing that. Matt had to play his waiting game, out of respect. Warren was clearly a man who knew what he was doing. He knew the New Zealand ways of things. But it didn’t make him feel any less uneasy. He needed an ear. Someone to give him a bit of guidance. Someone who could give him some answers. He hoped Aimee was that person.
‘I did a little more research into those theories we discussed the other day, even the Celtic one,’ Aimee said. ‘Actually, I looked up New Zealand pseudo-history and found out a bit more about some of the stuff that goes on in those circles. It’s interesting, to say the least. A lot of crackpots, but also some valid stuff. You ain’t all nutters!’
‘Glad to hear it!’
They briefly discussed the Kumara and Hangi again, followed by the Pohutukawa tree in Spain. It appeared that it had never been aged professionally, but was estimated at 700 years old. Matt would love to get it aged by an arborist. But this wasn’t what he was here for. ‘We should look into it if we get a chance. Maybe a colleague of mine can contact Spain.’
‘Yeah? That would be cool. I love a mystery. I should stop babbling.’
‘Actually, I came to lunch with you because I wanted you to babble a bit.’
‘What do you mean exactly?’ Aimee asked, sounding a little offended.
‘I need your advice.’
‘Independent ears?’
‘Yes,’ Matt said.’ You see, I’ve been out for a day or two with my friend, Warren. He’s shown me a lot of sites that he believes could be of ancient Celtic origin, but I still have my doubts. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, so I hoped maybe you had some ideas or opinions on the situation.’
Aimee sighed. ‘To be honest, I don’t give the Celtic theory a great deal of support. I’ve had a bit of a look into it, and it really does seem to be strongly based on mere speculation.’
She nailed it on the head. Speculation. Exactly what Matt had decided. But could he push her towards more than speculation?
‘Warren has found a couple of Celtic coins, and… ‘ He hesitated.
‘And?’ Aimee asked, sounding thoroughly interested.
‘I guess I can tell you. I need to talk to someone.’
‘Talk to me,’ she said, with authority, but remaining soft and comforting.
‘He also found a mirror, an ancient Celtic mirror. That together with the coins signifies a burial ritual.’
Aimee gasped.
‘He hasn’t told the DCI,’ Matt said, ‘about the mirror, I mean. In fact, he hid it from them.’
‘He did what?’ Aimee voice was full of shock and anger, surprising Matt. But it softened with her next words. ‘I’m sorry, but that’s dangerous. He’s breaking the law and could get in trouble. He could get you in trouble. Imagine if news of your involvement in this got back to your university back home. I don’t know how things are in the UK, but if I tried that here, I’d likely be thrown out.’
‘I know, it isn’t a good situation, but I trust Warren. He really believes he has his reasons.’
‘The mirror and the coins do make a difference to the credibility of the theory. Why have you got doubts?’
‘It just seems a little empty. I mean, the mirror and coins is one thing, three things actually, but there really should be more evidence that supports the theory the Celts were here. Aside from some possible alignments in Auckland and rumours of more in some valleys up north, I haven’t seen or heard of anything else.’
‘There was that one interesting place I read about,’ Aimee said, ‘the Crosshouse.’
‘You mentioned that the other day.’
‘Yeah. It was a Maori meeting house near to Rotorua. It appeared to have been built in a design that afforded it perfectly aligned equinox sun and moon rises. Maybe we could visit the site while you’re here.’
‘It would be interesting. I suppose the observation of alignments makes it a possible link to Warren’s Celt theory. But then, a lot of other ancient civilisations studied the heavens too. The Mayans, Egyptians, etcetera. I think it would be great to see the site.’
‘What will you do about Warren? You should be careful, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of the DCI’
‘I have to wait and see. All I know is that I don’t want to do anything that’ll affect our friendship. It means too much to me. But if I need some help, or more information, or if I have time to visit the Crosshouse site, can I call you?’
‘I’d love that.’
The subject changed again. They discussed friends and family and some of their past embarrassments and
