The Kiwi Target

in his room.
    The Mount Cook office, in turn, advised that he had purchased a ticket for Queenstown, one of the principal tourist Meccas on the South Island, and was holding a reservation on the morning flight.
    The small police station at Queenstown was then informed that a Mr. Peter Ferguson was expected to arrive the following day. No action was required, but all readily available information concerning his activities was desired.

    In the early morning light with a vaulting blue sky overhead, the world headquarters of Pricane Industries was a spectacular sight. The central tower soared upward almost fifty stories, to be crowned by the blue and white symbol that was seen in every office and on every piece of literature of the huge conglomerate. It was one of the largest such complexes in the central United States.
    The forty-fifth floor and above housed the very heart of Pricane management, a rarefied atmosphere restricted to a chosen few. The president’s suite occupied most of the forty-ninth floor. The president himself, who was in his late fifties, had been brought in some five years before, in part to augment the Pricane image of dynamic progress. When he had been photographed bare-chested on his yacht, he had projected a virile image in the company of the Playmate of the Year.
    The office suite of Reinhold Lloyd was on the forty-eighth floor. On the complex organizational chart he appeared near the top, as vice president in charge of new development. When he shook hands, he often seemed an easy man with whom to deal. If he had any questions to ask, he put them in a quiet, emotionless voice. When he reached a decision, he invariably gave his answer in a soft yes or no.
    Those who had not known better had sometimes tried to debate a point. It was then they learned what manner of man Lloyd was. It was said that one lesser executive had suffered a cardiac seizure in his office. Yet Lloyd could make himself quite pleasant if he chose to do so.
    In his outer office Mrs. DeForest looked up when a stranger to her came in. She noted at once that his clothes were expensive, although probably made overseas, and that he had a distinct executive aura. He was tall enough to be impressive and very trim in his build.
    No one reached Lloyd’s office without her advance knowledge. She gave a brief ring on the intercom. If he did not answer, she would not disturb him again without permission.
    “Yes?”
    “Mr. Kincaid is here.”
    She listened a brief moment and then gave her usual formal smile to the well-tanned man who was waiting. “Please go right in, Mr. Kincaid.” She led the way to the inner door and held it open for him.
    Lloyd came from behind his desk to shake hands, which was definitely unusual. “Sit down, Ted,” he invited, and waved toward a chair in the corner of the large office. “How was São Paulo?”
    Kincaid smiled. “A great city. I enjoyed it.”
    “Four years, wasn’t it?”
    Kincaid nodded. “Just about.” It had actually been a little over five, but that didn’t matter; what did was the fact that he had successfully walked the tightrope between correcting Lloyd, which was unthinkable, and endorsing a misstatement.
    “I called you back because I’ve got something new I want to put you on,” Lloyd said, still maintaining his agreeable manner. “You got good results in Brazil: I’ve reviewed them.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Any thought on who might succeed you down there?”
    It was a clear trap that Kincaid saw at once. Undoubtedly Lloyd knew that he and Jack Bernstein were close friends, but there was no place for sentiment at Pricane.
    “I left Bernstein in charge; he can handle it until you choose my replacement.”
    “For how long?”
    “As long as necessary.” That was the best he could do for his friend. He was taking a chance as it was, because Lloyd was rumored not to like Jews.
    Lloyd wasted no more time; Kincaid had passed. “Ted, we’re about to acquire a very good company, Swarthmore and Stone. Real estate and developments. So far we’ve kept it very sub rosa.” Kincaid listened silently.
    “We’re rounding up all the stock and proxies we’ll need. As soon as that’s done, they’ll have a board meeting, at which time you’ll be elected president and chief executive officer.”
    Kincaid nodded at that but nothing more.
    “We can keep this acquisition under wraps for three months because we’re using straw men. And since you’ve been away for a while, you