Not a day goes by that I don’t think of the last time I saw my blue Masport Navarro two-stroke motor mower with a newly restored Briggs & Stratton engine and aluminium body before it was stolen, in broad daylight, by thief or thieves unknown, from outside my estate in New Zealand’s most expensive real estate suburb. I called in the authorities. They left no stone unturned. Police file 230416/1576: “After looking at all the available evidence we have not been able to find out who is responsible.”
I loved that machine. I bought it in 2007 with the advance from my book How To Watch a Bird. My daughter was born that year. She is as old as my Masport Navarro and, when they stole it, they stole an emblem of her life. It mowed all throughout her childhood. And now it mows no more - or it does, somewhere, and I have my suspicions about that. “Unless more information or evidence is found, we can’t proceed any further with this case.”
It was a Sunday. A warm afternoon in autumn, with a light wind coming off the harbour and tickling the leaves of our tree-lined street in our elite postcode of 1011. Nothing ever happens in postcode 1011. That’s the point of postcode 1011. Private security guards patrol it day and night, many of the houses are gated - money doesn’t talk, it sleeps in peace and quiet. I took the Masport Navarro out onto the berm, went back inside to get a can of gas, returned to the berm and filled the tank, then went back inside again to get the catcher. I was really looking forward to disrupting the peace and quiet. “Victim Support is available to assist you if required.”