Page 111 of Midnight Enemy

I check on Kingi from time to time, asking him if there’s anything I can get him, but he always says no, and has seemed happy enough being up to his ears in documents and folders.

“He asked you to come in?” I ask. “What’s going on?”

“Not sure yet. Will you take me to see him?” Something about his manner seems official and reserved. He doesn’t offer me his hand or come and give me a kiss.

Puzzled, I lead the way into the office building. The woman on reception checks him in and gives him a visitor sticker. Then I take him through to the finance offices at the back.

My father used to work in the biggest office, and George worked in the one next door. He’s yet to move into the main one, maybe out of respect for me and Ana, but I’m sure he will eventually, as it has a pleasant view of the vineyards. Today, Kingi is sitting behind the desk, looking at the computer screen and tapping on the keyboard while he talks to George, who’s sitting in another chair in front of the desk.

George looks across as we enter. His face is pale, and he looks terrified.

“Hey,” Orson says, nodding at Kingi. He then goes over to George and offers his hand. George looks at it as if he doesn’t want to, then shakes it out of politeness.

“What’s going on?” I ask while Orson brings two more chairs over in front of the desk.

Kingi doesn’t answer. Orson gestures at one of the chairs, and I lower onto it and perch on the edge, my spine stiff. Finally, Kingi looks over at me. He’s also in a suit, but he’s ditched the jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, revealing the tattoo on his left arm. His long hair looks as if he’s spent time running a hand through it. He also seems serious.

“Guys,” I say, “you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

Kingi glances at Orson, who nods. Kingi squares the folders on his desk, thinking, before he finally looks at me. “I’ve carried out a pretty thorough investigation of the commune’s books. I haven’t finished the audit; that will take about another week. But I think I have a good take now on the finance situation here, and on why the commune is struggling.”

“Okay.” Part of me wonders why they aren’t presenting his findings to the Elders. Why are they telling me?

“As you know,” Kingi continues, “Kahukura is a commune rather than an intentional community. This means that its members’ income and resources are shared.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“It’s a relatively complicated system. There are several different entities here: there’s the vineyard, the retreat, and the commune as a whole, and the money is set up to flow between all of these.”

“Okay.”

“George and your father looked after the finances between them while your father was alive.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I’m just trying to explain but it’s quite confusing, and—”

“Kingi,” I say, “spit it out.”

He hesitates. Glances at Orson. Then says, “I found something.”

“Something?”

“A discrepancy.”

“What kind of discrepancy?”

Orson leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands linked. “There are funds missing,” he says gently.

I open my mouth, but no words come out. I close it and wait for one of them to explain. When they don’t say anything, I finally find my voice. “How much?”

Orson looks at Kingi, who says, “One hundred and twenty-three thousand, four hundred and sixty-two dollars.”

My jaw drops. “What?”

“The money has been transferred from the vineyard and general commune funds,” Kingi states. “Not from the retreat. That’s important for you to know.”

I’m shocked and baffled. What’s he trying to say? I look at Orson, who’s watching me, frowning. “I don’t understand,” I say, switching my glare to Kingi. “Are you saying that someone has taken money from the commune? I don’t believe it.” I’m starting to grow angry. “We’ve all worked hard to make Kahukura a success. Nobody here would steal from the others. You’re wrong. You have to be. You’ve missed something, a deposit, or a transfer somewhere.”

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