‘Where have you been, doctor?’ Nile asks.
‘Outside for a breath of fresh air.’
‘In a howling gale? We need to talk in your office please.’
The medic’s face is full of suppressed resentment, but he remains silent until they enter his consulting room.
‘What’s this about? I need to check on Sacha.’
‘You took time off recently, without authorisation. I’d call that dereliction of duty.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You were seen in a speedboat, visiting the Aqua Dream. Did you really think the whole island was asleep? I’ve got witnesses, Dr Pakefield. You may as well explain.’
The medic drops into his chair, his energy suddenly fading. ‘I got a call, late Monday night, from a crew member on the Aqua Dream, saying they needed a doctor urgently.’
‘The terms of your contract are to remain on the island, unless you have authority to leave.’
‘He was desperate.’ The medic’s gaze shifts to the door, as if he’s planning his escape.
‘How much did they pay?’
‘It sounded like a genuine emergency. They knew I was breaking my contract, so they compensated me. I never expected a fee.’
Nile’s bulk throws a shadow across the desk. ‘Keep talking, or do you want to lose your licence?’
‘There are only two crewmen on that yacht. One of them had cut his leg, while diving. The wound was infected and needed stitches. I treated him, then left immediately. I was only on board half an hour.’
‘How much did you get paid?’
The doctor blinks rapidly. ‘The captain gave me an envelope containing three thousand dollars.’
‘That’s a tidy sum for dressing a cut, if that’s all you did. What else did you see on the boat?’
‘Just a man in his thirties with a suppurating wound. I got the sense that the crewmen were bored. They want to move on to their next destination, then go home. They’ve been at sea for months.’
‘Why is Sacha Milburn afraid of you? She was terrified, after her attack.’
‘I told you, head wounds can cause delirium.’
‘Tell me the truth, or I’ll have to arrest you.’
Pakefield’s shoulders slump even further. ‘My marriage is in trouble,’ he whispers. ‘My wife is back in the UK with the children. I went to Firefly for a drink to drown my sorrows and Sacha was there. We ended up sleeping together, just once. I regretted it immediately, because I want to get back together with my wife. I may not have been kind enough the morning after, but I’d made a stupid mistake.’
‘So Sacha’s got reason to hate you for rejecting her, and I bet you need money right now for your divorce. You make twice as much cash on Mustique than St Vincent, and your kids’ school fees will be crippling.’ Nile stares at the doctor again. ‘You’ve got access to a boat, and you’ve been on board the Aqua Dream. How much are they paying you to keep quiet about their operation?’
‘I didn’t see anything.’
‘I think you envy Mustique’s residents. Does it make you angry, seeing their huge villas and swimming pools?’
‘Why would I work here if it did? It’s the physical beauty of the place that draws me.’
‘You’ve lied, Dr Pakefield. How can I trust anything you say? Stay in the corridor, where Charlie Layton can keep an eye, and don’t lay a finger on Sacha Milburn. Do you hear me?’
‘All I did was help a wounded man.’
‘Show me what’s in your desk drawer before we go.’
The man’s jaw gags open. ‘Just private possessions.’
‘Open it.’
The first thing Nile sees is a bright red notebook with Sacha’s name written on the cover.
‘Why did you take this?’
‘She gave it to me for safekeeping.’
Nile doesn’t waste time questioning such an obvious lie. He just jerks his head, signalling him to follow. The detective can feel the fury emanating from Pakefield’s skin when he sits in the corridor, arms folded across the starched fabric of his white coat.
Charlie Layton looks gratified to be given an extra responsibility. Nile would prefer to lock Pakefield in a holding cell, but he’s the only medic on the island, and Sacha needs his help. He’s about to leave when Layton turns towards him.
‘The girl’s very sick,’ he whispers. ‘Shall I call Pastor Boakye? He’ll save her, if anyone can. The man’s a miracle worker.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘My wife lost a baby in January. Her mind was broken, until he visited us. The guy’s got healing powers.’
‘I don’t believe in miracles, but I need to see him, so I’ll send him here soon. Sacha believes in him, so it might help.’ Nile is about to leave, but the storm is doing damage already. The wind is hurling rooftiles at the trees, thrashing six-foot-tall pampas grass until it lies flattened. ‘You’ve lived here all your life, Charlie. If you had to pick a local out as a killer who would it be?’
‘Dex Adebayo,’ Layton says, his reply arriving in a heartbeat. ‘There’s nothing good about a man who threatens his wife.’
Nile’s blood runs cold. ‘He’s violent towards Cherelle?’
Layton’s face is solemn. ‘Their cabin is next to ours. We hear them arguing. When I knock on the door she’s too afraid to talk.’
46
IT’S STILL HALF dark when I hear a noise. The sound is barely audible behind the screeching wind; it could be my own heart racing, but it’s growing clearer all the time. Someone’s feet tapping towards me, across the concrete. I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman but I keep my eyes open. I have to face whatever’s coming without flinching.
There’s a burst of light as the door flies open, blinding me after so long in the dark. Someone is shining a flashlight in my face, then a plastic sheet drops over me, my hands still tied behind my back. At least my energy has returned; I won’t go down without a fight. I kick out hard, but my punishment is instant. I’m being pulled over the ground outside my pool house, my dress tearing. Plastic material flaps around my face and I catch a glimpse of Eden House. My home is a fairy-tale castle, far out of reach. Now I’m blind again, my body dumped on a hard surface, before an engine throbs into life. They’re driving me somewhere. I try to keep my wits about me to quell the panic. We’re travelling west, over the island’s roughest paths. The killer is trying to stay out of sight.
I can’t yet tell who’s caught me, but at least the journey is brief. I’m lifted across the ground now, the plastic sheet bound more tightly around my body, making it hard to breathe. This time I understand exactly what’s happening. I’m lying in the hold of a speedboat, pain registering as it lists wildly from side to side. Only a madman would put to sea in the face of a huge storm. Waves slap the vessel’s sides as it drifts, then the outboard motor judders into life. My shoulders thump against cold fibreglass and I grit my teeth as the engine whines, cold water splashing over me as waves pound the vessel’s sides.
47
RAIN IS FALLING in such heavy drops when Nile arrives at Eden House, it feels like buckets of water are being tipped from the trees. The villa is suffering the storm’s effects too, window shutters straining on their hinges. Nile has to throw himself against the wind to climb the steps, despite his weight. His clothes are soaked when he reaches the porch and Sacha Milburn’s notebook has suffered the same fate; its cover is wet with rain, the pages sticking together. Lily appears to be feeling the stress of Lady Vee’s absence when she opens the door, but at least she’s followed his instructions to stay safe. She slides the bolt on the door home, then leads him down to the kitchen, where Phillip Everard is sitting at the table. It’s a relief to see him; all of Lady Vee’s staunchest allies will be needed to bring her home. The actor rises to his feet when he arrives, clearly hungry for news, but Wesley Gilbert marches through the back door before either man can speak.
‘I just checked the grounds,’ Gilbert says. ‘Someone’s been in th
e pool house recently. The lock’s been broken, and I found a length of rope. I think this is one of Lady Vee’s shoes.’
He places a high-heeled sandal on the table, and Lily gives a solemn nod.
‘That’s definitely Vee’s.’
‘We need to work as a team,’ Nile says. ‘It sounds like they used Lady Vee’s own pool house to keep her captive, just to rub our noses in it. We’ve got three main suspects: Dexter Adebayo, Keith Belmont and Dr Pakefield. Dex and Keith left the party early, and Pakefield went missing from the hospital in time to attack Lady Vee. He’s got hold of Sacha’s journal, and may have left the medical centre unattended for long enough to capture Lady Vee and hide her somewhere. It looks like Pastor Boakye’s telling lies, but he’s not our killer. He couldn’t have got from the Bamboo Church to Stargazer so soon after the memorial to attack Sacha, but he could be withholding information. I still think the Aqua Dream’s involved in some way, but I don’t have authority to search the boat.’
Gilbert replies first. The man’s military background has never been more apparent; his back is ramrod straight, like he’s received a call to arms.
‘We should check out Dexter first. The guy knows everything that goes on here.’
‘I think he’s been selling drugs on the side,’ Nile says. ‘It’s possible he’s violent towards his wife too; he could be unstable enough to carry out the attacks.’
Lily shakes her head. ‘He’s always seemed like a decent guy.’
‘Plenty of killers do, unfortunately.’
Nile glances outside the window, where leaves and branches are being shredded by the wild breeze, debris from the trees covering Lady Vee’s lawn. It’s too dark to judge the state of the ocean, but waves are crashing on the shore below, another assault on the island’s safety. He studies his trio of helpers again. Lily has changed out of her red dress into jeans and a T-shirt, but still looks beautiful, despite her anxiety.
Phillip Everard is hunched over the table, fingers tapping out a rapid rhythm. ‘We’re losing time. If we don’t find her soon, that bastard will pin her to the ocean floor.’
‘Someone needs to read Sacha’s notebook,’ Nile says. ‘She’s been keeping watch over the island. It may hold useful evidence.’
‘Do you want me to do it?’ Phillip volunteers. ‘I’ve read enough lousy scripts in my time.’
‘That’s helpful, thanks. Can you patrol the house, Wesley, in case someone’s still sniffing around? Remember, the killer must have a key. Lily, I’d like you to see Dexter and his wife with me. She’ll feel safer with you present.’
It’s 2a.m. when Nile and Lily run down the path through pouring rain to the Adebayos’ cabin. The detective needs to hear Dexter’s alibi for this afternoon and evening, because he has everything the killer needs, from the use of a powerful speedboat to intimate knowledge of the victims’ habits from his daily visits to Basil’s. The man’s diving expertise also makes him seem a likely culprit. His character has changed and he’s clearly hidden a darker side for a long time.
Nile raps on the door with a heavy fist. Adebayo’s wife appears after a minute of constant hammering. Cherelle looks older than he remembers when she stands on the threshold.
‘Dex is out,’ she says, addressing her comment to Lily. ‘He went to someone’s cabin after the party, to carry on drinking.’
‘Can we talk anyway, Cherelle?’ Nile asks. ‘It won’t take long.’
The place is messy when she leads them inside, with newspapers piled on a bench, beside a stack of ironing. There’s no sign here that Dexter is profiting from his sideline – he’d have bought a new refrigerator, instead of the antique in the corner that’s emitting such a loud drone it sounds ready to explode.
Cherelle clears the sofa so her visitors can sit down, then perches on a chair opposite, picking at her ruined nail varnish.
‘Can you tell us how Dex has been spending his time lately?’
‘Working and hanging out at Basil’s like always,’ the woman says, her tiredness echoing in her voice. ‘He doesn’t tell me much.’
‘I need every detail please, Cherelle.’ Nile lounges on the settee like he’s got all the time in the world. ‘The sooner you talk, the sooner we’ll leave, but I have to ask you something first. Has Dex been hurting you?’
Lily reaches out to touch her hand. ‘It’s okay, you can talk to us. How long’s it been going on?’
Cherelle looks set to argue, then her face crumples. ‘Something’s gone wrong this year. I can hardly recognise him.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Whatever’s got hold of him, I can’t reach him any more. I can’t predict what makes him angry. It always used to be something I’d said, or done, but now there doesn’t have to be any reason at all.’
Nile feels nausea rising in his throat; he remembers the woman in Oxford all over again.
‘No reason’s good enough for physical abuse, Cherelle. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again, but right now I need to know when you last saw him. He was at Sacha Milburn’s place straight after she was attacked, and he was at the party this evening. Do you know where he is now?’
‘Dex makes his own rules these days.’
‘Do you know if he ever takes his speedboat out to that big yacht moored outside Britannia Bay?’
‘He’s delivered beer and cigarettes to the crewmen a few times; they pay him well, but I never see the money.’
Before they leave, Nile checks if Cherelle has someone else she can stay with, and makes arrangements for her to find safety. It’s too soon to tell whether Adebayo is helping someone on a vicious killing spree, but Nile’s own guilt surfaces before he can suppress it. His head swims with ugly images that bring him to a standstill, until he has to lean on the rail outside the Adebayos’ house. He can picture the woman he failed; twenty-five years old, pretty, and terrified.
‘She wasn’t much older than you,’ he mutters.
Lily steps closer. ‘Something got to you in there, didn’t it?’
‘I shouldn’t be doing this job.’
‘You’re working too hard, that’s all. Tell me what’s wrong.’
Nile lets himself exhale at last. ‘Back in Oxford, I got called to see a young married couple. Neighbours heard the girl screaming, but the husband was there both times I visited. She hardly spoke, and I didn’t interpret her silence correctly. I could sense the guy was dangerous. I wanted to arrest him, but my senior told me to keep out of it. He said we’d never nail him unless she testified, and pushing her for answers would be contravening the assault law. The husband lost the plot a week later. I found her body in the boot of her car down a country lane, covered in stab wounds. The bloke got eighteen years, but that won’t change it.’
He feels the warmth of Lily’s hand on his back but can’t meet her eye.
‘Your boss made a bad call, Solomon. You did what you could.’
‘I let her die. It still feels like I should resign from the police force most days; coming here was meant to help me decide.’
Lily’s hand is still on his back. ‘Forgive yourself. Everyone on Mustique can see your decency and your desire to do good. It’s on his conscience, not yours.’
Lily’s quiet certainty penetrates his defences at last, his vision slowly clearing.
48
I SUPPRESS MY sea sickness as the boat rocks, panic subsiding as I focus on staying alive. I can’t even yell out a protest. The same damp rag is wedged inside my mouth, making it hard to breathe. The killer may have sailed away from Mustique so he can dispose of my body, just like Tommy Rothmore’s.
He handles my body like a piece of cargo, hauling me upright, then dumping me in a harness. Pain shoots through my hip from the sudden impact, but the bastard doesn’t care about human damage. He pulls me across the surface by my feet, like a piece of furniture, the pain making me black out.
When I come round my situation has changed. I’m sitting on a chair, my eyes blindfolded. I use my other sens
es to try to understand where I’m being held, while silence presses in on me. I can smell rotting fish, or could it be coral? That salty tang of decay lingered on the air when I found the killer’s offering outside Lily’s room.
My pulse quickens when footsteps come closer, then a voice grumbling swear words, and suddenly a door creaks open. I’m desperate to see my captor, but can only make out a blur of light round the edges of my mask. Someone removes my gag at last, his calloused hands rough on my skin. Now he’s untying my wrists. It’s a relief when my arms hang limp at my sides, my hands numb after being bound for hours.
The man’s breath reeks of coffee, booze and cigarettes. Maybe he was among the partygoers, drinking at my expense, while he spied on me.
‘You won’t get away with this. The whole island will be out looking for me,’ I say, my voice hoarse.
There’s no reply except another physical gesture. He yanks my blindfold away and when my vision clears I’m alone in a small dark storeroom, a door clicking shut behind me, then a key twisting in the lock. My only light source is intermittent starlight shining through a porthole, which gives a foot-wide view of waves, crashing and re-forming, as the boat lists from side to side. There’s nothing in the cabin except a bucket, toilet roll, a bottle of water and a sandwich congealing on a plate. He wants me to relieve myself, and it’s in my interests to show gratitude, but instinct makes me undo the ties around my ankles and prepare to fight.
When I get to work on the binding, silver light suddenly floods the cabin, confirming where I’ve been taken. Solomon showed me photos of the Aqua Dream’s grey lino and wooden furniture. Did the other victims sit here too, on some mysterious yacht, waiting for their fate? My fingers move faster now, aware that this is my last chance.
49
NILE HAS SO much adrenalin swilling round his system, he wants to rush from house to house looking for the killer, but his phone rings while he decides his next course of action. It’s Charlie Layton, saying that Pastor Boakye isn’t answering his phone. The information raises Nile’s suspicions. Whoever took Lady Vee kept a close eye on the party, creeping out of the darkness to abduct his victim, and Boakye never appeared, so he may be helping the killer in some way.
Murder On Mustique Page 20