‘Why didn’t you say?’
‘I didn’t think it was relevant.’ The young woman’s voice tails away.
‘It could change everything. Thanks for your time, Ms Milburn.’
Nile stumbles back down to the beach, then instinct takes over. He sets off across the sand at a run, heading for Britannia Bay.
22
LILY STILL LOOKS shell-shocked. I summoned her back to the villa, to share the news of Tommy’s death, and she’s barely spoken since. She’s had to face too much loss already, but there’s nothing I can do to shield her this time. It’s early evening, the sun sinking onto the horizon, and I’m trying to seem calm, even though the young man’s ruined face has stayed in my mind. It terrifies me that Lily’s friends are being attacked, one by one, leaving her vulnerable too. I still don’t understand how someone entered our villa to leave a piece of coral outside her room, and Lily’s fierce independence makes her vulnerable. She’s so used to taking care of herself that attempts to protect her can drive her further away, our conversation going round in circles.
‘Give me the details again, Vee. It doesn’t make sense.’
‘I told you, darling. A fisherman found Tommy’s body in his trawl net. There was a rope bound tight around his ankle, his feet bare. His lower legs were covered in scrapes, with white pieces of coral in the wounds. They looked like pieces of chalk, sharpened into spikes.’
Lily lifts her head at last. ‘Those white quills are called dead men’s fingers; they’re sharp as razors after they calcify. I’ve cut myself on them, when I’ve been grafting samples onto dead sections of the reef.’
‘What are you saying, Lily?’
‘It sounds like his body was anchored to the reef by that rope around his ankle.’
‘I think it’s connected to the coral too, but why would someone go to such lengths?’
‘They could have done the same thing to Amanda; I have to look for her.’ Lily’s face is pale with exhaustion, but she’s already rising to her feet.
‘Not tonight, please. It’s dark, and you’ve heard the weather reports on the radio; Storm Cristobal may reach Jamaica tonight, if it stays on course.’
‘It’s still miles away and the biggest section of bleached coral is close to the shore. I’ll dive tomorrow, but the boat has to be ready.’
‘I’ll come with you, and Solomon should be with us too.’
I’m still reasoning with her when footsteps echo on the path, a man’s slow tread on the gravel.
‘I can’t face anyone, Vee. If you want me, I’ll be at the harbour.’
Lily dashes away, heading for the pathway down to the beach. I’m hoping to see Solomon Nile, but Keith Belmont appears at the top of the stairs. I like everyone as a rule, unless they’re discourteous, but the aging rock star puts me on edge. He’s one of the few islanders ill-mannered enough to arrive unannounced, but I adjust my features into a smile. I read an interview he gave years ago, where he claimed to have slept with a thousand groupies, and tried every drug available, during his years on the road. I have to stop myself flinching when he drops a kiss on my cheek. Keith has all the allure of a second-hand car salesman, longing for a deal. His grey hair is scraped into a thin ponytail, lines grooved deep around his mouth, his mud-green eyes assessing my reactions. I’m certain my distaste shows, no matter how much I try to conceal it. If he’s heard about Tommy Rothmore’s death I have no intention of discussing it.
‘Good to see you, Keith. Would you like a drink?’
‘Juice would be great, please. I’ve been off booze for weeks.’
When Wesley appears, I ask for vodka and tonic, and something soft for my visitor, who’s studying his surroundings, from the flowering hibiscus to Lily’s espadrilles, flung down by the door, as if he’s making an inventory.
‘Is Lily here, Vee? I was hoping for a word.’
‘I’m afraid she’s out, but I was touched to hear that you’re considering supporting her project.’
‘She’s doing a great job with the Reef Revival, but someone with a bigger profile should front it, if she wants the charity to grow. She’ll need to make changes before I commit myself.’
‘I doubt she’ll agree. Lily works night and day, she’s passionate about the system she’s created.’
‘That’s fine, but I’m talking about publicity. If we call it the Keith Belmont Coral Project, she’ll get the media on board. I’d make a substantial investment to get it up and running, including a media campaign.’ He pulls out a packet of cigarettes as he speaks. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’
‘Go ahead, I’ll ask Wesley to bring you an ashtray when he comes back.’
When Keith take a long drag from his cigarette, the glitter in his eyes makes me grateful that neither of my daughters joined his conveyor belt of wives. I think about all the time Lily sacrifices writing bids for grants, when she would rather be on the reef. The man’s cash would liberate her from endless form filling, but is it a price worth paying?
‘Why are you so interested in the coral, Keith?’
‘I’ve got a conscience, believe it or not. If I can restore it I’ll have done something to benefit the planet, left a legacy. Call it payback for all the private flights I’ve chartered, and my gas-guzzling cars.’
‘You could just support her charity, instead of taking over.’
‘I’m a frontman, Vee. It’s not my style to stay in the background.’ Keith’s smile reminds me of a crocodile, anticipating his next meal. ‘I’d send that old boat of hers to a wreckers’ yard, then buy a new one. That old tub’s covered in rust. We need a decent GPS system and more cabin space for divers.’
‘The Revival belonged to her mother, Emily. It’s the final link between them.’
‘That’s very touching, but the reef needs restoring fast, then we can move on to another island and start again. Lily should sign tomorrow, before I change my mind. My lawyer wants to nail down the details.’
‘She’s still reading the small print.’
‘She’d be mad to refuse a big donation.’ The man’s sharp gaze scans my face again. ‘Did you hear about Tommy Rothmore?’
‘Just now. Terribly sad, isn’t it?’
‘Do you think it’s linked to Amanda’s disappearance?’
‘I’ve got no idea, but I have every faith in our detective.’
‘Solomon Nile? He seems a decent bloke, but pretty inept.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘My house was burgled this week. He had no idea what to look for, and he was in one hell of a rush to leave.’
‘He’s busy, Keith. Amanda Fortini’s been missing for days.’
The musician’s smile has worn thin when he blows out another mouthful of smoke. I don’t know if he came here to bully Lily, or collect gossip, but he’s knocking on the wrong door. I won’t release a single detail, in case it jeopardises Nile’s investigation.
‘What have you been up to since you came back to Mustique, Keith?’
He accepts the change of subject with a grimace, then delivers a speech about swimming every day, eating well, and purging his soul. Apparently he spent weeks at a Balinese yoga retreat and came back reformed. He’s avoided coffee, alcohol and drugs ever since. The man has even rediscovered the religious faith he abandoned in his wilder years. It sounds admirable, and the large gold cross he wears on a chain around his neck hasn’t escaped my notice either, yet his facade doesn’t convince me. His gaze is as cold as permafrost when our eyes meet again, the reason for his visit finally exposed.
‘Let Lily decide, Vee. I’m only doing her a good turn.’
‘I can’t influence her; she makes her own choices.’
Keith’s reptilian smile slips back into place. ‘Get her to call me, please, before I withdraw my offer.’
He drops his cigarette on the marble tiles, then grinds it out with his heel. My heart is beating uncomfortably fast when he finally leaves. Keith Belmont has spotted a way to cleanse his conscience, for
whatever sins he’s committed, but I hope Lily has the good sense to refuse. Keith Belmont may have enough charisma to rock a stadium full of adoring fans, but a one-to-one meeting with him is like conversing with a rattlesnake.
23
WHEN DS NILE arrives at Basil’s Bar the place is empty, apart from a few holidaymakers stranded on the island until the storm passes. They seem happy to extend their holiday, knocking back endless cocktails, thrilled by their unexpected leisure time. When he first spots Dexter Adebayo in the corner, he’s surprised by how much he’s aged. It’s clear that the man still uses Basil’s as his office, with his papers and mobile phone spread out on the table, but he’s almost unrecognisable from the carefree guy who taught him to dive fifteen years ago. His gaze is vacant, as if his spirit’s broken. Nile smiles at him, even though he’s preoccupied.
‘Good to see you, Dex. How are things?’
‘The same as ever, Solomon. I thought you’d stay in the UK, putting that huge brain of yours to use.’
‘So did I, to be honest, but circumstances changed,’ Nile says, settling on a bar stool. ‘I’ve got a quick question. When’s the last time your XR7 went out for a spin?’
Dexter releases a slow laugh. ‘If it was mine I’d have cashed it in by now, but the bar owns a half-share. They rent it to tourists on days when I don’t need it for diving trips.’ He sifts through his papers, then stops to study one. ‘The last people to hire it were a French family, from the Cotton House, ten days ago. I make a note for the insurers each time it gets borrowed, in case there’s damage.’
‘Okay, thanks, Dex. I’ll see you around. I need to speak to my brother.’
When the detective turns round, Lyron is polishing a table, his expression bored. The young man’s jaw drops when Nile takes his elbow and leads him towards the exit.
‘I can’t just leave, Sol. I’m stuck here till midnight.’
‘You’re coming with me,’ Nile hisses.
‘Why? Is Dad sick?’
Nile carries on glaring at his brother until he finally follows him down to the beach. It strikes Nile that, no matter what, Mustique always looks beautiful. The setting sun is casting lilac and gold streaks across the sky, but his anger is still red hot.
‘You’re under arrest,’ he snaps at his brother.
‘Is this some kind of joke?’
‘You know exactly why I’m here. I thought you’d help me, but you’ve blown the whole thing apart.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘You do not have to say anything, but what you do say could be used against you, in court, if your case goes to trial.’
Lyron’s smile vanishes. ‘What the hell do you think I’ve done?’
‘You were seen on the beach, twice, with Amanda Fortini, after denying you knew her.’
‘If you seriously think I’d harm a woman, you’re losing your mind.’
Nile’s brother stares at him open-mouthed, but he doesn’t care. He grabs Lyron’s wrist and drags him along the beach to the police station, where the Layton brothers are playing cards. The two men spring from their seats when Lyron throws a punch, keeping their backs to the wall. The first blow catches Nile’s jaw, sending his glasses flying, but his right hook connects squarely with Lyron’s shoulder, as the fight continues. It takes several hard punches to win the day. Lyron looks exhausted when Nile finally shoves him into a holding cell and locks the door. The new prisoner punches the wall, rattles the bars, and screams for a lawyer, but Nile returns to the lobby. The Layton brothers eye him with newfound respect.
‘Still here, boys? Do you want more of the same?’ They shake their heads in unison. ‘Leave me to clear this shit up, like always, but give me the keys to your motorbike first, Charlie. It’ll get me round the island faster than the buggy. I can’t say when you’ll get it back.’
Layton hands them over without complaint, then Nile is left by the reception desk, waiting for his brother’s yells to subside. Luckily his glasses are scratched, not broken, but it’s 8p.m. by the time the station falls silent. When Nile opens the door to the holding cells, his brother is sitting on the mattress in his cell, head in hands.
‘Feeling sorry for yourself now, are you?’
Lyron finally looks up. ‘Do you know what it’s like, being your brother?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘The teachers told me how gifted you were on my first day at school. You aced every exam and won medals for running and swimming. There’s not one thing in this world I do better than you.’
‘Don’t give me that bullshit.’
‘It’s the truth.’
‘I thought you’d support me in my job when I came home. You had so much potential as a kid.’
‘When did you ever help me? After you left I didn’t see you for years.’
The words prick Nile’s conscience, but he ignores them. He places his recording device on the floor, then begins to speak.
‘I’m taping this interview with my brother, Lyron Edward Nile, because there’s no second officer to witness our conversation. I have to remind you again, Lyron, that anything you say could be used against you in court, if your case goes to trial.’
When his brother raises his head again Nile can see he’s been crying, but can’t afford to care.
‘Tell me about your relationship with Amanda Fortini.’
‘She drinks at Basil’s, that’s all. We flirted a few times when I served cocktails to her and her friends.’
‘How come you were seen together twice on Old Plantation beach at dusk?’
‘We were talking, that’s all. I don’t have time for girlfriends.’ Lyron stares at him, unblinking.
‘Where were you, when the Fortinis’ villa got torched?’
‘Working, like always. Go ahead and check with my boss.’
‘I will, don’t worry. How come you’ve got a reputation for drug dealing?’
Lyron hesitates for a beat too long. ‘Who told you that rubbish?’
‘That’s not relevant. I’ll search your room tonight.’
‘Fine, you know where I live.’
The two men glare at each other, but Nile knows he’s got the upper hand. He’s not the one behind bars, nursing bruised knuckles from punching the wall.
‘Lyron Nile has denied both charges. He’ll be held in custody for twenty-four hours, while I look for evidence on both charges.’
Nile gives the recording machine’s off button a hard jab with his thumb, then stares at Lyron again. His brother is crying into his cupped hands, a boy again, always too easily led.
‘Calm yourself before you make your phone call. You only get one, so use it well. Remember it’ll take me ten minutes to walk home and search your room.’
Nile hands his brother the telephone and leaves him to make his call. When he returns five minutes later, Lyron refuses to meet his eye.
The detective feels numb when he walks outside, leaving his brother to contemplate his future. His father will need a long time to drag himself inside, so he slows his pace, following the long route home through a stand of date palms, while darkness smothers the island. Soon he drops onto a boulder and stares at the sand below his feet. He understands his brother’s anger; it’s hard to make a living on Mustique. Nile always assumed that his brother was savvy enough to stay clean, but maybe he got it wrong.
Half an hour has passed when he finally arrives home. His father is standing by a brazier beside the house, leaning on his stick as he watches flames issue from the metal dustbin, with holes piercing its sides. Nile waits for a while, as ash sifts onto the ground.
‘Having a bonfire, Papa?’
The old man’s face looks older while he controls the blaze, leaving Nile to complete a professional duty he’d rather avoid. When he goes to his brother’s room, his conscience bothers him again. Lyron’s pin board is covered with family photos. There’s one of him on graduation day, the pair of them running across the beach, then Lyron riding piggyback on
his shoulders when he was two years old. Nile searches inside his brother’s shoes, under his bed and in his pockets, so he can file a search report tonight with a clean conscience. He picks up the piece of coral that’s still lying on his windowsill, then returns to the station immediately, unwilling to face his father’s questions.
24
KEITH BELMONT’S VISIT leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth. Maybe that’s because he’s so keen to grab Lily’s empire. She’s always seemed too level-headed to be swayed by money with so many caveats, but I can’t be certain. The lure of continuing her work for many years to come may be too strong to resist. When Wesley emerges from the house to check on me, I inform him that I’m taking my buggy down to Old Plantation harbour.
‘Maybe I should accompany you, Lady Vee?’
‘I’m too old for a chaperone, Wesley.’ The look in my butler’s eye proves that he’s heard about Tommy Rothmore’s death, but he’s too discreet to mention it.
‘I’m sure Lord Blake would want you to stay indoors tonight, where it’s safe.’
‘I can’t let Lily walk home alone.’
Wesley stands between me and the front door, blocking my path, like he wants to corral me indoors and then throw away the key. His protectiveness feels so smothering it’s a relief to say good night. Outdoor lights glitter on the swimming pool’s surface when I cross the terrace, illuminating the tropical orchids Jose tends so carefully, reminding me that the haven Jasper and I created is under threat. I collect the piece of coral that was left outside Lily’s door, in case Solomon is down at the harbour, then hurry to my buggy.
I drive south on the coastal path. Blues music fills the air as I pass Basil’s Bar and the wide expanse of Britannia Bay. The lights fade as I drive through a dense thicket. I normally enjoy experiencing the island’s wild side, but I’m too edgy to relax: I almost jump out of my skin when a snakebird flies overhead, skimming the buggy’s roof. The air feels clammy against my skin, my breathing laboured, but the sensation lightens when I finally drop down to Old Plantation Bay. Lily’s mother’s old trawler, Revival, is lit up against the dark. When I walk closer, tools are littered across the deck, but she’s scrubbing the side of her boat. My footsteps make her swing round, her smile only appearing when she recognises me.
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