Arny marveled at the vision of the South Pacific waters dotted with period-sized islands in clusters. He looked over at Gretta who was busy with a file she had received from the post office in Christchurch before they left for Niue.

"Can I get the Gretta encyclopedic version of this Niue place?"

She folded the file away and tucked it in her pack, smiling at him paternally.

"Certainly, Arny. What would you like to know?"

"I dunno, size, population, weather. Wildlife; I hope there isn't a lot of wildlife. Food would be good."

"Okay." She settled herself and looked up at the ceiling of the aircraft. "It's a coral island of about 100 square miles; 40 miles in circumference."

"It's round!"

"Circumference applies to the perimeter, Arny, not just to circles. And speaking of the perimeter, it is made up of uneven cliffs that drop abruptly into the sea. It's got a plateau in the middle about 200 feet above sea level and a lower surround averaging about 90 feet. Niue is circled by a wreath-like broken reef."

"I take it there isn't a big shipping business there with no port."

"Very good, Arny. The weather, by the way is humid with temps averaging 80 degrees and lots of rain."

"Not again."

"It ain't North America. The population, since you asked is only in the neighbourhood of 1800 with half of them living in or right around the capital."

"How could that many people operate an independent country?"

"Pretty well actually. New Zealand looks after the foreign affairs and any military needs. The money is the New Zealand dollar and they supply most of the budget in the form of aid. There is a huge population of Niueans working in New Zealand, mostly in the public service but they can only send back so much to families hence the business of stamps. It is the only really lucrative trade revenue."

"Why did you avoid wildlife? It's bad isn't it?"

"No, Arny, there is very little animal life but loads of fish; you'll have gills by the time you finish eating here."

The plane banked and came around to aim for the small airport, settling down with a practiced ease and relative comfort. Inside the terminal they went through the ritual of passports and luggage and questions from the 'important' staff then they exited the terminal and caught a bus into the capital of Alofi. The Alofi hotel was busy with the latest arrivals; Gretta and Arny were the third couple to arrive.

"We must have come in rush hour," Arny quipped.

"Something happened over there," Gretta said, nodding toward the alcove in the corner where a workman was making repairs to the paint and woodwork on one side of the table.

"Maybe we should make a reservation with a crowd like this we might not get a seat."

Her look made him shrug, suitably admonished.

The room was clean and pleasant and Arny was pleased to see only a double bed and not two singles. Their corner window overlooked the street in front of the hotel and south to the architecturally interesting church. He stood at the window and admired the view.

"I wonder who that guy is sitting outside with the bicycle. The uniform looks sort of official."

Gretta closed the chest of drawers after putting her things away and tossed her pack on the shelf above the hanger rack.

"I would say he was police."

"Police! That guy?"

"They're not all Tom Sellick in small cities."

"I know but that guy looked skeletal; he looks more like a postman in that outfit."

"Lean, Arny. Lean." She gazed out the window and scanned the street to orient herself then turned and smiled.

"So, hungry?" She crossed the room and opened the door without waiting for his answer.

Outside, Arny's skeletal policeman lifted a hand in the international halt signal and approached Gretta with a stern countenance, his fingers smoothing his moustache.

"Excuse me Miss. I am Constable Phati Kantui of the Niue Police Force, he indicated his name badge. May I ask your business here on Niue?"

"Gretta smiled and offered her hand. "Gretta Lawrence, Constable and this is my friend, Arnold Wainright." They all shook and Phati wet his lips, uncertain about the enthusiastic greetings.

"Is there some problem?"

"We uh- have had an incident here recently and as the responsibility of keeping the peace and regulating the interchange of new arrivals to our island, a few perfunctory questions are required."

"Ask away, Fatty." Arny said, reading the badge.

The look was pitying. "It is pronounced Patty, Mr. Wainright."

"Sorry."

"Your purpose for coming to Niue."

"Exploring the islands of the South Pacific. We're on sort of a sabbatical."

"And your intended length of stay?"

"Don't really know. Depends on what we find that is interesting."

"Most of our island's features can be learned from hotel personnel. If you require permissions for anything you will speak with me."

"How about a good place to eat some lunch?" Arny smiled.

"You are staying at the place where our most popular meals are served."

"Yeah, but are they good?" Gretta gouged his rib cage and offered the policeman a, 'what can you do' look, steering Arny down the street.

"I thought the hotel was the best." He complained.

"We'll try a local source, the hotel is for the tourists."

The restaurant was a simple square room with four tables and a small counter in front of a stove and a refrigerator. They both had fish sandwiches and a beer and laughed over Arny's mispronunciation of the Constable's name. Back at the hotel, Gretta asked the young lady at the desk what the incident was that prompted the work in the dining room.

"I'm really not at liberty to say, ma'am."

"Well as paying guests I think we have the right to know if we will be safe here."

"Oh of that there is no danger; Constable Phati is always present. He is a very good Constable."

"I'm sure he is but he sleeps sometime." The inference was made clear in Gretta's tone and the young lady glanced about nervously. "What is your name, please?"

"Melane Hantoi. I wish no trouble, ma'am and I assure you that you are perfectly safe; the other men were escorted to their boat--" Her hand went over her mouth and she flushed a deep red.

"Other men? Boat?"

Back in the room, Gretta was on the phone to the New Zealand Port Authority and Customs officials, asking about departures to Niue within the last week. She smoothed the way by mentioning the name of Maurice Trask and CONGA and in a short time she had a list of three boats that sailed from New Zealand within the time period mentioned.

Two were families with children and one was a crew of three American men. The names were provided along with the name of the boat and Gretta thanked them for their assistance and immediately went on line and looked up the trio.

"That was pretty harsh with the desk clerk, Gretta." Arny said, watching her between his feet from his position on the bed.

"She'll survive. Look at this. Our three Americans. Yeager Humboldt. Arlo Beck and Jubal Hunter."

"Do we know them?"

"Humboldt is a shady negotiator or felicitator if you like. Arlo Beck is an associate. Hunter is a, for hire, muscle. The desk clerk said two were escorted to the boat; one didn't go. Where is the third man?"

"Vienna! Du dudu dudu, dudu." Arny sang the theme music from the film.

"Orson Welles you ain't, Arny."

"She said they went out in the rain the other night then came back soaked. She said they went in the direction of the church. She also said she didn't know what happened in the dining room but I find that hard to believe even if she wasn't working at the time."

"She seemed awfully scared, Gretta." He sat up with his feet on the floor.

"Our three Americans maybe, or somebody local?"

"Well, you said that one of those guys was hired muscle but why would that be necessary in a stamp negotiation?"

"Because Yeager Humboldt is an associate of Bishop Gravestone."

"I knew it." He said with disgust. "And you knew it too, didn't you? You weren't going to tell me." He waved his hand dismissing an answer and threw himself back on the bed.