Murder On Mustique

by Glenconner Anne

  ‘We need to visit Pastor Boakye,’ he tells Lily. ‘It’s possible he’s been telling lies.’

  The detective is led by instinct when they drive downhill to Lovell, where the priest’s cabin stands at the edge of the community. Pastor Boakye is fully dressed when he opens the door, even though it’s the middle of the night. The man looks tempted to run, but remains rooted to the spot, because there’s no escape. There will be no transport off the island while the storm erupts, the wind strong enough to pummel Nile’s back as he and Lily wait on the front porch.

  ‘Going somewhere, Father?’

  ‘To see a parishioner,’ he mumbles. ‘The man’s suffering alone.’

  ‘Keith Belmont, you mean?’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘You’ve been accepted here, in such a short time. I bet you know all the villa owners’ secrets. Some of them are so famous, you could make a fortune selling information to the media.’

  The priest looks horrified. ‘I would never do that. Everyone deserves God’s protection; it’s my job to help whoever needs me.’

  Solomon looks him squarely in the eyes. ‘You made up your qualifications, didn’t you?’

  His shoulders drop, like a broken marionette. ‘I was hoping for a fresh start.’

  ‘Another woman’s missing and you’ve been telling lies. Maybe you’ve been helping the killer.’

  ‘I’m just following my vocation, that’s why I’m here.’

  Nile hisses at him. ‘You’d better explain.’

  ‘No one understands poverty, unless they’ve experienced it.’ The man gazes down at his hands. ‘Twenty-five million people live in Lagos, many with no running water, or sanitation, like my family. My parents had no money for formal schooling, but religion kept me sane. I almost gave up hope when our priest said I’d need a degree in theology to join the ministry, even though I was born to serve God.’ The man’s face glows with conviction.

  ‘So you bought a fake degree certificate and made up a CV. How come you know the Bible so well?’

  ‘It’s the only book my family owned. I learned many passages by heart.’

  ‘You were bound to get found out.’

  Boakye’s eyes are glossy with tears. ‘I thought God would protect me. I’ve done my best to support the community; no one else would work as hard.’

  ‘Did you hurt Lady Vee tonight?’

  ‘Of course not.’ The man bows his head as if to pray.

  ‘Go to the hospital and stay with Sacha Milburn until I call you. She believes in you and needs protection. If I find out you’ve neglected her, your situation will get a whole lot worse.’

  The man presses his hands together like he’s found a new deity. ‘Don’t give away my secret, please. I was born for this job. No other priest would love his community as much.’

  ‘Your cabin’s near Dexter Adebayo’s. Do you know where he’s gone?’

  He shakes his head. ‘Another man who’s struggling to find his way.’

  ‘It’s his wife I pity,’ Lily mutters.

  ‘He sleeps outside, near to Basil’s Bar, some nights, just to be alone.’

  Nile is beyond caring about Boakye’s fate, but the man’s prayers follow him and Lily down the path, his voice low and fervent.

  50

  I CAN’T TELL how long it takes me to undo the rope around my ankles. I have to flex my feet repeatedly to regain sensation, and I know I may not have long before the killer returns. My left hip is swollen so every movement hurts, but that’s the least of my worries. I hunt through the storage cupboards lining the walls but find only marker buoys and life jackets. The only useful item is a speargun, designed for hunting fish in the shallows, the small arrow unlikely to inflict much damage on a human assailant, but it’s my only option. I could use the chair and a wooden bench to barricade the door but instinct tells me to leave everything in place. Surprise will be my best weapon, if I keep my wits about me.

  The boat is still being attacked by harsh currents. When I peer through the porthole, I can tell exactly where we are, after hundreds of boat trips around Mustique. The Aqua Dream is anchored in Honor Bay, which is a poor place to hide in a storm, the yacht drifting towards submerged rocks. Fronds of sea kelp flail from the water’s surface like kites on a hard breeze. The rocks’ jagged teeth show above the crashing sea, waves hauling the boat closer, while the anchor chain groans. At least I’m free to move around, if the Aqua Dream founders, but my chances are slim unless I can open the door. I shut my eyes and picture a searing hot day when I swam out to the royal yacht Britannia, after weeks living in a tent on the beach. The princess allowed Jasper and me to shower, then have drinks with her on deck, the afternoon full of laughter, until the time came to swim back to shore. I can feel my body surfacing even now, the sunlit air greeting my face. That moment of remembered happiness provides a burst of energy. I must rescue myself.

  The sea’s furious motion thumps me against the wall when I hear the footsteps again. It’s still pitch dark in the cabin. All I can see is a strand of light under the door, yet I’m oddly calm. Time goes into slow motion when the door finally opens, but I have one advantage: I’m accustomed to the dark. I lash out at his face with the butt of the spear gun. The man swings at me, but I run at him, knocking him backwards. When he falls there’s a sickening crunch as his head hits the wall, then silence descends on the cabin.

  I’m afraid another crewman will arrive any minute, but there are no sounds outside except the storm’s fierce call, the wind plucking the yacht’s rigging like harp strings. The man I’ve attacked is still breathing, which fills me with relief; no matter what happens, I don’t want any more deaths. When I peer outside my luck is holding. The key has been left in the cabin door, so I twist it in the lock, leaving the wounded man captive.

  Now I’m outside, more dangers lie ahead. I tiptoe down the narrow corridor, trying each cabin door, but they’re all locked. When more footsteps sound overhead I duck into the last room, which stands open. I can see the rocks more clearly than before from the porthole, and I need to know who’s taken me captive. My hands fumble through the dark until I find a desk, then open the first drawer, rummaging for clues.

  51

  NILE AND LILY return to Eden House straight after their talk with Boakye. There’s a chance that Phillip has found useful information in Sacha’s journal. Wesley greets them in the hallway, but Phillip is still in the kitchen hunched over the notebook.

  ‘It’s a type of parable, set on Mustique,’ he says, ‘full of local characters and landmarks. It reads like a children’s story.’

  ‘What’s it about?’

  ‘A dark force trying to steal beauty from the island. It makes people ugly and controls their minds, killing trees and animals, and turning the sky grey.’

  ‘Does she mention names?’

  ‘I can’t see any, but her handwriting’s so awful, some passages are illegible. She’s crossed out whole paragraphs.’

  ‘Let me try,’ Lily volunteers. ‘Sacha and I wrote each other letters in our teens; I may be able to decipher her scrawl.’

  Phillip Everard hesitates before handing the book over, as if he feels bad about finding little hard evidence. He’s quick to agree to accompany Nile on his next visit, leaving Lily poring over Sacha Milburn’s notes with Wesley at her side. The actor is unusually quiet as they head for Britannia Bay on Lady Vee’s buggy, the frown on his face revealing his concern. The man is gazing straight ahead, his eyes unblinking as he watches the sea, observing the thunderous waves.

  ‘Are you okay, Phillip?’ Nile asks.

  Everard flinches at the sound of his voice. ‘I keep thinking of Vee. She and Jasper were wonderful when I bought my place here.’

  ‘We’ll find her, don’t worry.’

  ‘I hope to God you’re right. Lily’s seen too much misery already.’

  Nile beckons for Phillip to follow him. Dex Adebayo startles awake in the deckchair he’s using for a bed when Nile yells
his name.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he splutters. Adebayo’s gaze flicks from Nile’s face to Everard’s like he’s assessing which one is craziest.

  ‘Why didn’t you go home tonight, Dex?’

  ‘I can’t stand Cherelle’s nagging.’

  ‘People are saying you’ve changed, Dex. You’ve become strung out, withdrawn, a different man. What are you taking?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Come on, Dex. I’ve seen plenty of addicts in the UK,’ says Nile.

  There’s no sign of the island’s much-loved local character when he rises to his feet. ‘You’d better leave me alone, right now, instead of making accusations.’

  ‘I’ve only just begun,’ Nile says, stepping closer.

  ‘You arrogant piece of shit.’

  When Adebayo throws a punch Nile dodges it easily. For the second time in a week, physical force is the best way to close an argument, even though it’s not his preferred style. His right hook lands solidly in the man’s gut, dropping him to his knees.

  ‘Was that wise?’ Everard mutters. ‘He could sue for police brutality.’

  ‘That won’t save him. I’m arresting you for assault and battery, Dexter. You’d better come with me.’

  Nile feels more comfortable as he leads the barman away. He’s repaid the violence to Cherelle and begun to wipe the slate clean for the woman he let die. He’s never believed in catharsis until now, but the theory might just be true.

  ‘Drive him back to Eden House, please Phillip. Lock him in one of the bedrooms and stand guard, then tell Wesley and Lily to meet me at Old Plantation Bay.’

  52

  NILE IS ABOUT to jog to the harbour when he decides to make a phone call. He shelters behind the end wall of Basil’s Bar to ring DI Black on St Vincent, while the wind shrieks overhead. His boss falls silent at the news of Lady Veronica’s abduction, after the party to commemorate the victims’ lives, but the peace is short lived. Nile holds the phone away from his ear when his senior’s voice rises in volume. Black tells him that he’s stupid; he may understand history but he’s a lousy detective.

  ‘I need to go out to the Aqua Dream tonight, sir. It’s the only place I haven’t searched.’

  DI Black isn’t in an obliging mood. ‘Don’t go near it, Nile. I’ve told you a hundred times. If you do, you’ll land up in jail.’

  ‘Lady Vee must be out there, sir. Do you want her to die?’

  ‘You don’t have permission. I forbid it, do you hear?’

  Nile steps out from his shelter, feeling the wind’s full impact. ‘Sorry, I missed that. Can you hear the storm’s getting worse?’

  ‘Don’t fool with me, Nile.’

  ‘Are you still there, sir? The line’s breaking down.’

  ‘Stay on dry land. Do you understand?’

  ‘The connection’s gone. I’ll try again later, sir.’

  Nile has spent enough time following pointless rules; he won’t make the same mistake again. He runs south while rain beats the ground around him. It’s the worst night for a sea voyage, but there’s no other way to learn the truth, even though the storm is hitting the island like a spiteful child. Powerful waves are jostling the small fishing boats in Old Plantation harbour, and Wesley Gilbert and Lily are already on the jetty. Nile shakes his head when Lily suggests they use the Revival. The Aqua Dream would see the trawler coming and sail out of reach. Their only option is to take the tiny police launch and hope not to get spotted, keeping their front beams switched off. The muscles in Nile’s stomach wind tighter as he puts on a life jacket. Instinct makes him call and leave a message on Lyron’s phone before they motor off.

  The Aqua Dream is just a glimmer on the horizon. The half-moon has gone into hiding just when they need it most, the stars obscured by cloud. Wesley Gilbert looks resolute, but there’s a glint of excitement in Lily’s eyes when he starts the engine, her adventurous spirit rising to the occasion, and the gravity of the situation is inescapable. Nile must pick his moment to set off with perfect accuracy. One mistake and the boat will be flung back onto the pier, shattering into matchsticks. Maybe he should have hung onto the religious faith his father finds so comforting. He’d love a god to pray to right now, but no guardian angel will come to his rescue. Nile manages to steer the police launch away from the jetty, until the vessel is at the sea’s mercy, like a cork bobbing towards a waterfall.

  When Nile looks across at Lily, she gives him a smile. She’s seen plenty of storms, but he’s focused on the dangers waiting on the Aqua Dream. The two crewmen may have come ashore for a night-time trip and escaped the storm on dry land, but weather conditions could have kept them on board. The engine is grinding at full speed when there’s a sudden noise, like cymbals clattering onto a hard floor, and suddenly they’re stranded. The next swell rocks the boat by forty-five degrees onto its starboard side. They need to regain power soon, or they’ll capsize.

  ‘I’ll see if I can fix it,’ Lily says, ducking through the doorway below, as another wave hits.

  There’s still no fear on Wesley’s face, and Nile understands at last why he enjoys his role as a butler. He’s able to conceal every emotion, even when a storm threatens his life. There’s humour in the man’s tone when he speaks again.

  ‘The sea plays cruel tricks. This is why I chose the army, Solomon.’

  Both men hurry below deck to help Lily work on the engine, but the hold is so cramped, all they can do is watch. The boat is still at the mercy of the waves, being pushed in the wrong direction, into the teeth of the storm. Half an hour passes before she emerges, her hands filthy with oil.

  ‘The drive belt broke,’ Lily says. ‘Try the engine again; let’s see if it works.’

  Nile turns the key twice before the engine kicks into life, but the delay has cost them a long time. He can only hope that the crew of the Aqua Dream aren’t gazing out from the yacht’s portholes, their small vessel hidden by the rolling waves. The mega-yacht is growing clearer all the time, at least ten times bigger than the police launch, but suffering the same assault, listing starboard with each tall wave. Nile notices that a speedboat is drifting behind the Aqua Dream on a long line. He can’t tell when it arrived, but the storm could easily smash it against the bigger vessel’s side.

  ‘Want me to steer?’ Lily calls out, her voice muted by the wind.

  Nile steps back to hand her the wheel. She may not be insured to drive the launch, but she’s more experienced, and soon his life will be in her hands. Wesley offers to come with him on deck, but he makes him stay in the wheelhouse with Lily. Nile is alone as he prepares for the transfer. It would only take a small error of judgement to mistime his jump onto the bigger vessel. His heart is in his mouth when a huge wave lifts the police launch higher than the Aqua Dream’s deck before smashing it down again. He can hear Lily counting like his father did, when he taught him to sail. Every seventh wave is bigger than the rest. When Lily nods at him, he knows she’ll move alongside the bigger vessel after the next cycle.

  The detective clings to the handrail. He knows exactly what he’s facing; get the timing wrong and he’ll land in the water, and his life jacket won’t save him. He’ll be crushed between the two boats. The water gapes, open-mouthed, ready for him to fall. He glances back at the wheelhouse, waiting for Lily to give her thumbs-up, but she shakes her head. Another huge wave crashes over the prow, leaving him soaked, before he takes his leap.

  Nile grabs the bottom rung of the ladder and hauls himself up towards the deck of the Aqua Dream, but now he’s on his own. Lily must keep the boat close by with Wesley’s help, until he’s ready to leave. He gestures at her to keep back, but the waves rise again, obscuring the launch from view. He plans to take the captain by surprise, then search the vessel, no matter how much resistance he meets. He may only find a cargo of drugs, but there’s an outside chance Lady Vee’s still alive.

  He makes his way to the Aqua Dream’s bow, but when he peers through
the window, the wheelhouse is empty. A nautical chart lies open by a panel that’s flashing with GPS storm signals. The crew are missing, even though they must be on board. No one would abandon the multi-million-pound yacht to the storm, like the Mary Celeste; what has happened?

  53

  I’VE FOUND A cigarette lighter in the top drawer, so I use it to explore the small office. It’s got minimal furniture, with a desk in one corner and a couple of chairs. The place appears to be someone’s sanctuary, a bottle of whisky and a tumbler rattling in one of the desk drawers. I need to find a better weapon before another crewman arrives; I remember Solomon telling me there were two men on board. The other could find me at any minute, yet I’m still driven by the need to find out who is carrying out the attacks.

  The only weapon I can find is a metal paperweight. I have to use both hands to lift it from the desk, but it’s more deadly than the speargun. I ought to wait behind the door and try the same trick. Phillip crosses my mind suddenly, and the look of horror on his face when Solomon Nile found us searching the Rothmores’ villa. I kept my courage then, and I need to hang onto it, now more than ever.

  I hold the lighter up and see books on a shelf above the desk: classic European novels by Victor Hugo and Thomas Mann. There are plays too, by Ibsen, Chekhov and Pinter, which takes me by surprise. How many vicious murderers have a passion for classic literature and drama?

  When I continue rummaging through the drawers, I find an envelope containing photos of Tommy, Amanda, Sacha and Lily as children, and something shifts in my stomach. The images are from my photo albums at Eden House. Someone has wandered round my home, helping themselves to my private possessions. In the next drawer I find a book on the ancient symbols of Obeah. When I open it, a red feather flutters to the floor, like the ones Mama Toulaine weaves into her hair, but I can’t believe the artist has anything to do with the violence, even though her spiritual aura puts me on edge. The next thing I find is a small piece of tortoiseshell, shaped in a triangle; a guitar plectrum. The object drops from my hand when I picture Keith Belmont here, playing one of his guitars, and knocking back whisky, but something doesn’t add up. Keith may not always be honest, but his newfound love of the marine environment seems genuine.