The South Pacific Murders

by Sylvia Massara

  Smythe didn’t seem to notice my fatigued countenance or the look of my face; now bare of make-up, which I imagined didn’t make my appearance exactly enticing at present. “Of course you’re beat!” he barked at me. “Don’t you ever give up getting involved with younger men? Need I remind you what happened last time?”

  He was referring to my fling of months ago, during the gay mardi gras murder investigation. I wasn’t proud of my mistakes when it came to the men with whom I became involved, but it was another thing when someone like Smythe reminded me of it. It was then I felt my ire come to the fore.

  “First of all, Smythe, it’s not what you think!” I spat out with barely suppressed rage. “And second, it’s none of your damn business.” I then added with a cocked eyebrow, “Unless, of course, it bothers you to see me with another man.” At this, I turned away from him and made my way to the vanity mirror where I proceeded to check my appearance and brush my rather messy hair.

  Smythe didn’t speak for a few moments, stunned at my outburst. Finally, he found his voice. “Ferrari, you flatter yourself if you think I’m jealous, but we have to—”

  I dropped my brush on the vanity top and rounded on him. “You said jealous, not me. But then, considering Amanda dumped you to go back to her husband, I’m not surprised you’d turn to anybody on the rebound, even me.”

  This time, I hit the mark. Smythe stood there, arms hanging by his side, speechless and with a look of hurt in his eyes. I felt the stirrings of conscience nag at me and thought I’d gone too far. Smythe had truly fallen for my friend and he’d been heartbroken when she left.

  I was about to apologise to him—a first for me—when he abruptly turned away and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

  ~~~

  Early the next morning, we docked at Port Vila. I telephoned Chris in his cabin and roused him from sleep.

  “Hello...” answered a sleepy voice.

  “Rise and shine, Chris, my boy!” My tone was chirpy. “I thought we’d do breakfast in Port Vila seeing as Dobbs and Smythe will be tied up with the authorities.”

  “Wh... what time is it?” Chris still sounded half-asleep.

  “Seven,” I replied. “So get up and get ready. I’ll knock on your door at eight.”

  Now, he sounded awake. “Hey, what’s the hurry all of a sudden? I got to bed at three this morning.”

  I made light of his protest. “Not my fault if you go chasing after your ladylove so late.”

  “She’s not my ladylove!”

  I chose to ignore his defensive tone. “Whatever. I want off this ship before we run into Smythe,” I informed him. Then, I added with distaste in my voice, “I’ve already had my fair share of run-ins with him in the early hours. And trust me, it wasn’t fun.”

  Chris laughed. “I knew it! The tension between the two of you at dinner last night told me something was going to blow up sooner or later. So do tell.”

  “I’ll tell you over breakfast. See you soon.” Before he had a chance to respond, I hung up and went to get myself ready for the day ahead.

  By around nine, Chris and I were seated at one of Vila’s many cafés, located in the town centre, breakfasting on ham and mushroom omelettes and washed down with strong coffee. It was still early for shoppers; however, there were people walking purposely to their places of work. It was a weekday, and it was business as usual in the city. Leisure time was reserved for those of us on holiday or for the spouses of rich expats, who started to appear here and there to meet for coffee prior to engaging in a shopping spree in the modern stores, including the many duty free shops.

  It was a perfect day out with temperatures in the high twenties—thankfully, not too hot for this time of year. The cyclone season was approaching and soon the temperatures would average at around 30C with loads of humidity and rain, which made it uncomfortable for sightseeing.

  While we ate, I told Chris about the rape attempt by Dr Downes. Chris was shocked and suggested the same thing as Mark Evans.

  “How can you let him get away with it?” he exclaimed incredulously. “He should be locked up! I’m just glad he didn’t hurt you, otherwise—”

  “You know I can take care of myself,” I interjected and took a sip of my coffee. “Besides, I don’t want him locked up. What if he’s the killer? We need to catch him in the act.”

  Chris finished his food before replying, “Good point, although I don’t see a motive for him.”

  “Well, he could be the next victim,” I further suggested.

  “That’s more like it,” Chris concurred.

  “We’ll have to ask Dobbs and Smythe to keep an eye on him when we sail this evening. If he’s the killer’s next choice...” I let the sentence hang in the air.

  “We’re still not one hundred percent sure we’re looking at one killer, although it’s beginning to seem that way,” Chris remarked. “In any case, someone’s going to have to warn the guy.”

  “And it isn’t going to be me,” I stated firmly. “For once, I won’t be sorry if the killer whacks him—not after what he tried to do to me.”

  Chris nodded and changed the subject. “Let’s not talk murder for a while. Just try and have some relaxation time.” He sat back, arms behind his head while he enjoyed the sunshine.

  “Very well,” I agreed readily. I certainly needed some rest and relaxation. Besides, I didn’t want to explain about my run-in with Smythe. “So tell me about your new lady,” I remarked in order to distract him from asking me anything personal.

  He sat up straight, a faint blush touching his cheeks. “She’s not my new lady. In fact, she’s not mine at all.”

  “I can see you’re attracted to her, though,” I persisted.

  He shrugged his shoulders and said nonchalantly, “She’s simply a pretty girl I had a drink with.”

  I could tell he didn’t want to talk about the mysterious girl, so I let it slide. “Why don’t we rent a jeep to drive around the island?” I suggested, thinking it might be fun. Dobbs and Smythe would have finished reporting Dr Barry’s murder by now and I didn’t want to run into them if they decided to go sightseeing around the city. It would have been different if Dobbs had been by himself. Since Smythe came along on this voyage, I’d seen little of my friend. Yet another black mark against Smythe.

  “Hello there!” A familiar voice called out just then, bringing me out of my reverie about Smythe.

  I looked up at the approaching figure of Professor Tully, making his way over to us slowly as he leaned on his walking stick for support. “Hi, Professor!” I called back with a smile. “Please, come and join us for coffee.”

  When the professor reached us, he took a seat at our table and I introduced him to Chris.

  “You’re the young fellow who goes to Sydney University,” the professor remarked when he shook hands with Chris. “Mia told me about you.”

  “Yes. She also mentioned you lecture at uni. You look familiar, but then I probably saw you around the place,” Chris replied.

  We ordered another round of coffees and some watermelon juice to cool off our palates.

  “I’m in physiology, young man; so our paths are not likely to cross. Still, you may have seen me in the library. I frequent it often.”

  “And how are you enjoying your trip so far, Professor?” I asked, noticing he looked relaxed despite his difficulty walking. I figured the man probably suffered from arthritis.

  “So far it’s been excellent, except for the two unfortunate deaths we’ve had onboard.”

  “Oh, so you heard about Dr Barry,” Chris remarked.

  “Yes. I knew him. In fact, I know most of the older doctors with the convention group. I came across them on and off during my days of running my practice. Of course, I don’t know any of the younger men. My, how time flies.” His face reflected a pensive countenance, and I wondered whether he was thinking of his dead wife.

  “Well, let’s not dwell on bad things on a day like today,” I jumped in before this
turned into another talk of gloom and doom. Frankly, I’d had enough for one day and simply wanted to have some fun. “Professor, Chris and I were about to rent a jeep to drive around the island. Would you care to join us?” I expected the professor would welcome the company.

  He seemed delighted at the idea. “If you young people don’t mind an old fogey like me, I’d be pleased to come along.”

  Chris smirked. “Young people? I mean, c’mon, Professor! Mia’s hardly a young person now, is she? But you’re more than welcome to join...” His voice trailed off when he took in the thunderous look I threw at him. He cleared his throat and added, “What I meant to say was, although very good looking, Mia isn’t a teenager like me. She’s not old or anything...” He broke off again.

  I laughed with the professor joining in. “Never mind, Chris,” I reassured him. “Whatever you say, it’s too late now. But don’t worry, I know what you meant.”

  Chris sighed with relief and nodded toward the waiter. “Oh, good! Here comes the coffee.”

  ~~~

  We were back onboard ship by 4.00pm. The professor thanked us for a fabulous day and announced he was going to his cabin for a rest. Chris and I looked on as he hobbled away.

  “Poor guy,” Chris remarked. “I hope the jeep didn’t rattle his bones too much. The suspension was a bit rough, don’t you think?”

  I nodded. “Well, at least I let him sit in front where it was more comfortable. Stuck in the back wasn’t any fun for me, you know.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t the one who invited him. So don’t blame me,” he protested.

  “Don’t get upset. I didn’t mind him joining us. The poor thing lost his wife recently, and I hated to see him wandering around on his own.”

  Chris patted my shoulder. “Then, you did a good thing by asking him along.”

  “Anyway, I’m off to have a nap, seeing as I’m an old woman,” I said pointedly.

  Chris made a face. “You know I didn’t mean it that way. I was only trying to say you’re not as young as I am.”

  I waved a hand in front of his face in a dismissive gesture. “No matter what you say, it’s too late to fix it now, kiddo. So let’s leave it at that and I’ll see you at dinner. I need to bring Dobbs and Smythe up to date with what Downes did, and we also have to check through Barry’s belongings. I’ll call Martha from my cabin and see if we can do it before we eat.”

  We made our way to our respective cabins and I was thankful we didn’t bump into Smythe. I knew I’d have to see him this evening over dinner, but not looking messy and stinking hot, like I felt right now.

  ~~~

  Martha Barry was more than cooperative and when Chris and I arrived at her cabin just before dinner, she had all of her husband’s clothing and personal effects spread out on the bed.

  “I thought this would make it easier for you to search,” she said after greeting and inviting us in.

  “That’s great, Martha, thank you,” I replied. “I really appreciate it, especially under the circumstances.”

  Martha regarded us with a spirited look. “Of course I’m grieved about Jim, but somehow I can’t help thinking he got what he deserved for being a cheater.”

  I commiserated with her. “I can relate to a cheating husband. But you’ll still find yourself grieving for the trust he betrayed.”

  Martha nodded. “Of course, you’re right, Mia. I find myself going from grief to relief that I’m single again; and then back to grief. It’s an awful way to be, but I’m sure in time I’ll feel better.”

  I patted her arm in reassurance. “That’s a definite. It takes time, but you’ll come out much stronger in the end.” I then referred to Chris. “You remember my young friend, Chris. He’s helping with the investigation.”

  Martha smiled at him. “Yes. I may have been in shock last time, but I never forget a handsome young face,” she addressed Chris with a sparkle in her eyes.

  Chris blushed. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mrs Barry.”

  “No need to be so formal, young man. Call me Martha.”

  He smiled. “Martha it is, then.”

  Martha returned his warm smile and went back to business. “If you’re going to be a while, Mia, I’ll go up to have a pre-dinner cocktail with Joy. Just slam the door shut when you leave.”

  “Will do. And we promise not to make a mess,” I assured her. “But before you go, do you mind if we look inside the safe? There might be a document or something that could give us a clue.”

  Martha went straight to the safe, opened it, and took out all the contents. She then deposited them on the coffee table. “As you can see, it’s mainly our passports and travellers cheques. But you’re welcome to go through Jim’s wallet.”

  Both Chris and I looked through the passports, the cheques, and a few receipts for purchases made on the trip. As we checked the items, I handed them back to Martha and she put them back in the safe. I then took out all the contents from Barry’s wallet—credit cards, drivers’ license, a few more receipts, some cash, and what looked like a few TAB betting slips.

  “Your husband bet on horses?” I asked.

  “Not in a big way,” Martha answered. “But Jim liked to have the odd flutter now and then. Those are a couple of winning bets he never had a chance to cash in as we were coming on the cruise. He figured he’d cash them upon our return.”

  I looked at the names of the horses: “Adrenaline Rush” and “Neurotic Boy”. Something inside me stirred. “Did any of Jim’s friends have an interest in horses, as in betting or shares in ownership?”

  Martha shook her head. “I don’t really know. But they did like to bet from time to time.”

  “Do you know anything about these horses?” I persisted with my hunch, still holding onto the betting slips.

  “No...” she said thoughtfully. “At least...”

  “At least, what?” I felt a growing excitement, but didn’t know why. I noticed Chris threw me a questioning look.

  Martha looked pensive for a few moments before she spoke, “Well, this may not mean anything, but Bertie, I mean Dr van Horn, used to bet on horses whose names related to anything with medical or physiological terminology. My husband and his friends started to do the same thing. It became a bit of a game with them.”

  “Can you remember some of the other names they bet on?”

  “Hmm. I never paid much attention. But some of the names were funny and rather clever. Let me see now...” She became pensive again, and I waited with barely concealed patience. “I remember Jim mentioning some of the names because he won on those particular bets at the time. In addition to the ones in his wallet, I remember Footloose, Deep Throat, Sally Pox, Abreast of Everything... and I think, Erotic Heart. They’re the only ones I know of.”

  I kept my tone neutral even though I felt like shouting for joy. I was sure I’d just uncovered a clue. “Thank you, Martha. That’s really helpful.” I put all the items back into Barry’s wallet and handed it to her.

  “If you don’t need me anymore,” she said, taking the wallet from me, “I’ll put this away and go to meet Joy while you finish up here.”

  I nodded and we said our goodbyes. As soon as Martha left, Chris turned to me. “What was that all about?”

  I needed time to work things out in my mind before I told him, so I said instead, “Just give me a moment. First, let’s look through his belongings.”

  Chris sighed impatiently and turned to the bed to start going through Barry’s things. We checked his clothing, shoes, toiletries, and other ad-hoc items Martha had left out for us. We also looked around in drawers, cupboards, and the bathroom, in case Martha had missed something.

  An hour later, we went back to my cabin and sat having a sparkling water from the mini-bar fridge while we rested before getting ready for dinner.

  “Okay, Ms Ferrari, care to share what’s in that devious mind of yours?” Chris said. “It’s almost dinnertime and I’m starving.”

  I didn’t want to keep the poor
guy in suspense any longer so I finished my water and told him, “I have one of my feelings. Now, I realise this could mean zilch, but I’m pretty sure there’s something to it.”

  Chris rolled his eyes. “Is there a point somewhere on the horizon?”

  “Patience is a virtue,” I teased him.

  “And teasing someone like this could lead to murder,” he returned with mock affront.

  “Temper, temper!” I smiled, but immediately turned to business. “Okay, here it is. When I first spoke with Martha, she told me about Barry’s cheating and mentioned the cheaters’ club. On one occasion, however, she referred to it as the ‘erotics’ club. So when I saw the name of the horse, Neurotic Boy, I got to thinking about the possible website van Horn had the password for. The initials were NE, remember?”

  Chris nodded, now starting to look excited.

  “This is why I asked Martha about the horses. I mean, it’s a long shot, but when she started to rattle off those names, one of them was Erotic Heart. And then I thought, ‘erotic’ or ‘erotics’ plus ‘neurotic’. You know, NE! So what if these initials stand for Neurotic Erotics?”

  The look in Chris’s eyes mirrored my own.

  Chapter 12

  I found myself seated next to the luscious Enrico Lotti at dinner, with Mike Yuen on my other side. Chris and I had been late in joining the others at the buffet restaurant and all the tables were occupied. When we arrived, we saw Dobbs toward the back of the dining room at a table with Smythe, Mark Evans, Enrico and Mike. Dobbs spotted us and waved, pointing to the two chairs they’d been saving.

  “Thought you guys got left behind in Vila,” Dobbs remarked cheerfully as he tackled a plate mounted with food of all sorts.

  Chris and I set down our food trays on the table and I made sure to take the chair in between Enrico and Mike so Chris would sit between Mark and Dobbs. I noted the disappointment in Mark’s gaze when I didn’t sit next to him, but I didn’t want to give Smythe anything else to criticise about me.