Death by Tradition: Fiji Islands Mysteries 2

by B. M. Allsopp

  ‘Really? How is that done?’

  ‘Oh, it’s complicated, just like the cultivation. Many processes and it takes a hundred days, longer in wet weather. There’s a curing shed just over there.’ He pointed down the valley, away from Ash and the others.

  With the aid of his binoculars, Horseman made out a thatched roof. ‘I’d be grateful if you could guide me, Tomasi. I would hate to wreck such a valuable crop.’

  Tomasi beamed. ‘This way, sir.’

  Horseman radioed Ash to meet him at the curing shed. The path led from one grove to another through patches of forest. Horseman scanned either side of the path with the aid of his stick, but found nothing worth closer inspection. In one grove he caught the scent he’d been expecting—seductive, dark, and sweet. The bush material shed loomed in a cleared patch beyond the rows of vines. As they approached the broad verandahs the rich smell intensified. Heaven.

  ‘The verandahs have no roofs as the beans need direct sun every day. They are taken inside every night and before it rains. If they get wet, they lose flavour. Rain often comes without warning here, and it’s a problem. So they’re building a new shed in the village.’

  Wooden trays, each with a single layer of neatly aligned pods, covered the sunny verandahs. Tomasi invited Horseman to go inside. The shed was filled with racks, slotted to hold the trays of curing pods. No wonder the vanilla price was high—the cultivation and processing were labour-intensive. His admiration and sorrow grew for the murdered young man who was responsible for all this.

  Laid out on a wooden bench were a hurricane lamp, kerosene, two cauldrons, and hand tools. Long-handled tools were stacked in a corner. Under the bench was a pile of folded grey blankets. Horseman picked one up and held it to his nose. A worn vanilla-scented blanket!

  ‘The beans need to be wrapped in blankets in the early stage of curing,’ Tomasi volunteered.

  But everything seemed in order, undisturbed. If Viliame had been working here on Saturday, his clothes had probably absorbed the vanilla smell. Simple as that.

  When Ash arrived with one of the constables, Horseman handed over the search to the experts.

  5

  The three officers returned to the village at one o’clock, accompanied by Tomasi. At the church, they found the constable on guard tucking into a hearty lunch donated by a villager. Despite the substantial morning tea at the pastor’s house, Horseman was hungry and knew the others would be too. He’d bought rotis and fruit when they stopped at Nausori on their way; they would make do with that.

  ‘We’ll take a break now and return to the village after lunch. I’m very grateful for your assistance both yesterday and this morning. I hope I can talk with you again this afternoon.’

  Tomasi looked disappointed to be dismissed, but didn’t argue the point. ‘I’ll do whatever I can to help, Inspector. My wife would like to offer you lunch…’

  ‘Vinaka, we’ve brought our lunch with us, so we’d better not waste it!’ Horseman smiled.

  Back at the car park, they found the log barrier an ideal picnic seat. After two pumpkin and pea rotis, Horseman felt much better. Ash and Musudroka looked satisfied too. Horseman snapped a large hand of bananas in three. ‘Have them now if you want, or save them for later. The villagers are generous, but they’re not well off here and we mustn’t deplete their supplies.’

  They all started on the bananas right away. After enjoying one, Horseman said, ‘The vanilla smell on the church mat must have come from Vili’s clothes. We need to check that he went to the curing shed on Saturday afternoon. Ash, make searching for the murder weapon your priority this afternoon.’

  ‘Yes, sir. I hoped we’d find some trace on the path to the spice plantation. Wishful thinking.’

  ‘Maybe there’s another path. Let’s ask about that. And, while I’ve no reason to suspect him, I don’t want to depend on Tomasi too much. Probably he misses his life as a cop and that’s why he’s attaching himself to us. But we can’t automatically trust him just because he was a cop.’

  Musudroka nodded. ‘I like him, sir.’

  ‘Me too,’ Horseman said. ‘Our life would be a lot easier if all criminals were rude, uncooperative, and hostile, but only some are like that. Others are charming, polite, and friendly to us. They’re the ones that test our mettle.’

  The other two laughed. Ash was the first to speak. ‘I can hear a vehicle, can’t you? A diesel.’ Horseman could hear it now, too. They finished the bananas while the diesel chugging amplified. A police vehicle rounded the bend. Two people were inside. The smiling passenger got out first and waved. Horseman and Musudroka jumped off the logs and rushed to greet her, hands outstretched. Detective Sergeant Susila Singh, her black hair smoothed back into a ponytail, shook their hands.

  ‘Bula, bula,’ she said, and held out her hand to Ash. ‘I’m DS Singh, and I’ve brought Constable Dau to help, too.’

  Ash introduced himself. They all shook hands again. ‘Have you had lunch?’ Musudroka asked. ‘I’m sorry I’ve eaten the last of our bananas.’

  ‘Yes, we’ve shared the excellent lunch Constable Dau’s wife made for him,’ Singh said.

  Horseman hadn’t seen her for a month. He hadn’t missed her at all, so he was surprised how happy he was to see her smiling face. Not just because she was so capable and would make his job easier. He was so glad to see her.

  ‘Right. Our first priority this afternoon is to find the murder site and weapon. Ash, when will you finish in the church?’ Horseman asked.

  ‘Half an hour, tops. I can search any other routes to the spice gardens then.’

  ‘How many helpers do you need?’

  ‘Two will be enough. One of us to focus on the path, another for the left of the path, the third for the right.’

  ‘Good. Take Musudroka and one of the local constables. I’d like the other to guard the church, even though it will be open again when you’re through. I want to know who comes and goes.’

  ‘Sure, sir.’ Ash and Musudroka looked like two eager hunting dogs, tails wagging furiously, impatient to get to work.

  ‘Next, I want to check on the possibility that there were two bodies, not one, lying in the vanilla patch. In other words, a love nest. We’ll start with the project workers. They were probably a close-knit group involved with the business side as well as the agricultural work. I don’t know how many there were yet, but Sergeant Singh and I will speak to as many as we can this afternoon. Sergeant, can you interview any women in the group? I know you’ll get more information from them than I would.’

  They crossed the bridge and headed for the church. The riverbank was now deserted except for pigs and chickens. A brown dog, a wretched animal without a nose and part of his top jaw, limped around the fish-cleaning area, ingesting gut remnants. Horseman’s stomach contracted. He feared a machete had mutilated the dog, punishment for sticking his nose in a forbidden place. As a child he’d witnessed such impulsive anger, powerless to do anything about it. It wasn’t just the hungry dog who learned a terrifying lesson, but all who witnessed it.

  They walked among silent houses towards the church. A post-prandial somnolence enveloped the whole place.

  ‘How was your leave?’ he asked Singh.

  ‘Okay. Nice to be with my parents for a bit. I tried to help Mum, take over the chores and so on while I was there. I’m trying to learn to cook. But Dad would ask every night who’d cooked, and when it was Mum, he’d smile and look so happy, I wonder why I bothered. I chilled out, sometimes went in to Nadi on the bus to shop. After two weeks, I was more than ready to come back to the job. I missed work. When Superintendent Navala sent me the message about this case, I was overjoyed. I caught the first bus to Suva this morning. This is a horrible crime, though.’ Singh shook her head. ‘How are you, sir?’

  ‘Great. The Junior Shiners had their first third grade competition game yesterday and I’m feeling proud. Amazingly, they scored against Marists—two tries!’

  ‘Wow! They won?’


  ‘No, but I thought maybe they wouldn’t score at all. When it sank in that they’d taken points from Marists, they were jumping and hooting like mad things. The Marist coach gave his team an earbashing. They hung their heads in shame.’

  ‘Yet the losers were elated. Weird.’

  ‘All a matter of expectations, Susie. Next game, the Shiners will expect to score, and they’ll do even better.’

  ‘The credit’s due to you, sir.’

  ‘No, no, no. I know what needs to be done, but the boys are the only ones who can do it. Tanielo and the other volunteers have been essential, and they’re learning how to coach. It’s no use if the Shiners can’t continue without me. You need a big support pool, even for a third grade Suva district junior team.’

  When they arrived at the church, Ash asked, ‘Would you like to see what’s left of the scene before we pack up, Sergeant Singh?’

  ‘I would, thanks.’ She looked questioningly at Horseman.

  ‘Sure, I’m going to speak to the pastor again, then I’ll meet you back here.’

  6

  Horseman paused outside the pastor’s house to politely announce his name, then went up the steps to the door and knocked.

  ‘Inspector Horseman here,’ he called again. A sad-faced young woman opened the door. She looked very like Mere Tora.

  ‘Bula, miss. You must be the daughter of Pastor Joni and Mere.’

  She didn’t smile. She looked weary, her eyes red and swollen. ‘Bula vinaka, Inspector Horseman. I’m Kelera. My parents told me you were here. They’re out at the moment, doing what they can for Vili’s family.’ As her tears started to overflow, she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her cheeks.

  ‘Kelera, I’m very sorry about Viliame. From what I hear about him, he’ll be a terrible loss to Tanoa. I wanted to ask your parents who worked on the spice gardens with him. If you can tell me, then I won’t need to disturb your parents.’

  ‘I’m afraid I’m just off to school. I’m a teacher. The bell will go any minute for the afternoon lessons, so I can’t stop now, much as I’d like to help.’

  ‘May I walk with you? I promise I won’t delay you.’

  Kelera looked doubtful, but was regaining her composure. She went back inside, returned with a basket packed with school exercise books, and shut the door behind her. Horseman had trouble keeping up with her as she hurried away up the slope behind the church.

  ‘Someone killed Viliame deliberately. It’s my job to find out who murdered him and why. It would be good to talk to his friends on the spice project. I hear that those who worked on it shared the income according to the hours they put in. Is that correct?’

  ‘Io Inspector, that’s how it worked. There’s not much income yet, the crops aren’t in full production, early days yet. Vili was wonderful, he could see the future and knew how it could be achieved.’ She sniffed. ‘I worked with him, along with Vili’s younger brother, Sevu, his sister Elisa, and two other boys who were at high school with Vili. Others helped at peak times, but not so consistently.’

  ‘That’s good of you, Kelera. You wouldn’t have much free time as a teacher.’

  ‘I have enough. The only reason I haven’t transferred to another school before now is to help Vili.’ She sniffed.

  They were only fifty metres from the school now, which consisted of two double classroom buildings facing each other and a third smaller building, on a level terrace. An open-sided shelter shed was attached to one of the classroom blocks. Children ran about on the rara.

  ‘What time does school finish?’ Horseman asked.

  ‘Half past three.’

  ‘Detective Sergeant Susila Singh would like to talk further with you, Kelera. Would the school be the best place? She can be here at three thirty if that suits you.’

  ‘Io, alright. It has to be done, doesn’t it? I’ll be in my classroom—the one on the end over there.’ She lifted her chin towards the room closest to the rara as a boy ran up to the bell stand and tugged the bell rope. ‘I must go now, Inspector.’

  ‘Vinaka vakalevu, Kelera.’ Horseman walked the full length of the school terrace, looking at the houses strung out below as noisy children in blue and white uniforms ran to line up outside their classrooms.

  Horseman could see the two constables laden with the SOCO bags and equipment cross the bridge to the car park. He returned to the church, which Ash had now cleared for re-occupation. Singh and Musudroka emerged from the shade to meet him, grinning.

  Musudroka said, ‘Sir, there’s another path to the spice plantations. It starts further up the hill, between the school and the rara. It’s longer than the other one, but it’s the better choice when the lower one gets too muddy.’

  ‘Well done, who told you that?’

  ‘First person we saw—Waisele came out of his house right in front of us. Meant to be, eh. He’s just going to check a couple of fish traps and he’s coming back to show us the way.’

  ‘Where’s Ash? Did he go back to the car park?’

  Ash appeared, shutting the church door behind him. ‘We’ve got everything we need from here now, Inspector. The constables will be back in a minute. Can Tani come with us to search the second path?’

  ‘Sure, just keep him in line, please. Vinaka, Ash, and good luck.’ If Musudroka had a tail, it would be wagging.

  Horseman turned to Singh. ‘We’ll have to make a difficult visit to Viliame’s parents. Can’t put it off. The pastor is with them now, so it’s as good a time as any. Or as bad.’

  ***

  As is customary on the death of a family member, the floor of Vili’s parents’ house was covered wall-to-wall in palm mats to receive visitors making their condolence visits. Their soft, leafy smell pleasantly pervaded the house. Narrow foam mattresses wrapped in bula-style printed cotton edged the mats, allowing visitors to prop their backs on the wall behind.

  Pastor Joni introduced the officers to Paula and Eci, Viliame’s parents, then to their children, Sevu and Elisa. The three detectives offered their condolences, which the grieving family accepted graciously.

  Horseman sat cross-legged on a mattress, as did the other men. Mere and Vili’s mother, both in full skirts, also sat cross-legged. Sergeant Singh and Elisa, both in trousers, sat as custom dictated, with both legs tucked to one side. Mere jumped up with surprising agility, brought in a tray of plastic beakers, and served everyone orange cordial.

  Pastor Joni said, ‘Will you join me in prayer for Vili’s family, officers.’ It was not a question. Everyone present bowed their heads while the pastor prayed for God’s comfort to embrace the family.

  After a few moments, Horseman spoke up. ‘I do apologise for intruding Mr and Mrs Bovoro, but our job is to catch your son’s killer. Murder is a shocking crime, infrequent in Fiji and rare in small villages like yours. I must ask, did Vili have any enemies here in the village?’

  Both mother and father shook their heads, uncomprehending. Paula Bovoro spoke first. ‘No one in the village would kill Vili.’

  Pastor Joni nodded agreement. ‘Someone from outside must have come here and killed him. Definitely.’

  Vili’s mother wiped her face with her handkerchief. ‘Vili was popular, a leader among the young people. Everyone in the village loved him.’

  Vili’s sister glanced at her mother sidelong, then looked down again.

  ‘What about outside the village. Did Vili tell you of any problems or disputes in his life in Suva, for example?’

  ‘No, he was getting on well there. He was promoted again not long ago. The NLTB thought highly of him,’ Vili’s father said.

  ‘Did he tell you about his work at the NLTB?’

  Again, Vili’s parents shook their heads. ‘Not in detail,’ said Vili’s father. ‘He liked it though. He sometimes said how he got satisfaction in sorting out a discrepancy in the accounts. He once said he was a sort of detective.’ He looked straight at Horseman with a wistful smile, remembering.

  Vili’s mother
asked, ‘Why have you taken my son to Suva?’

  This was always a difficult question. ‘We must do this whenever someone is killed, ma’am. I am sorry, but Vili deserves the top doctor to examine him and find out how he died. We know he suffered a head wound, but that may not have killed him. Dr Matthew Young at Suva hospital will examine Vili very carefully, so we can all be sure exactly how he died. After Dr Young is satisfied, your son’s body will be returned here to you.’

  ‘That can’t bring him back to us,’ Vili’s sister said. Her mother looked at her reprovingly, but put her arm round her shoulders.

  ‘I agree,’ Horseman said. ‘But it will help us find out who killed your brother, you can be sure of that. Now Mr and Mrs Bovoro, my colleagues and I won’t intrude on you any longer. We’re keen to talk with Vili’s partners in the spice project, who include his brother and sister here. Perhaps you could suggest a quiet place where we could do that without disturbing anyone, Pastor Joni?’

  The pastor nodded immediately. ‘There’s the church office. I think that would be best. You’re welcome to use it whenever you need, Inspector.’

  ‘Vinaka vakalevu, Pastor.’

  ‘But there are two of you, so do you need two rooms for interviews?’

  ‘Vinaka, that’s not necessary. Perhaps, when we need to conduct simultaneous interviews, you would permit us to use the back of the church?’

  ‘By all means, Inspector.’ Pastor Joni said.

  ‘Sevu and Elisa, could you come with us now? Mr and Mrs Bovoro, again may I apologise for our necessary intrusion. Vinaka for the most welcome drink.’

  7

  Despite the enormity of this crime and her sympathy for Viliame’s family, Singh was delighted to be back at work. Horseman had chivalrously let her use the small church office. Pastor Joni’s desk was clear except for a large Bible and two rusty wire trays which held an assortment of papers. A tall bookcase was laden with books and folders, the drawers of the filing cabinet closed, the keys in the lock. She was glad everything was neat and clean. She didn’t sit behind the desk, but arranged two plastic chairs so she and Elisa faced each other across a corner of the desk.