Murder on Easter Island

by Gary Conrad

  Daniel sat in silence next to his friend Ropata, pulled out a water-filled gourd from his pora and drank sparingly. There was no water source on Motu Nui and he had to ration carefully, no matter how thirsty he was. Of course he could drink rainwater — if it came — but he couldn’t count on that.

  He grabbed a portion of his dried fish — now soaked with ocean water — and as he ate he sensed pure hate being directed at him. Daniel didn’t have to look at the source to know where it came from.

  The man with the skeleton tattoo on his face.

  Atamu.

  Chapter 11

  Daniel awoke drenched in sweat.

  He was miserable; his forehead felt as hot as a bed of coals, and he was coughing and aching all over. He’d give just about anything for a couple of aspirin, some hot chicken soup and a soft bed to lie in. Instead here he was lying on the cold rock floor of a cave with only a loincloth to cover him.

  It was early morning, and the sun was just starting to peep through the narrow entrance, bathing the interior with a dim light. Daniel knew a number of caves were on the islet, and this was likely one of the larger ones, measuring somewhere around twenty feet long by twelve feet wide. When he entered the previous night, Daniel had found he couldn’t stand to his full height in the cave and guessed it was around five feet tall. Close to the entrance, a primitive painting of a large red face, with black eyes and a white outline, stared blankly at him.

  Daniel did a silent head count and discovered all of the seventeen remaining contestants were in the cave, most asleep, some coughing as Daniel was. He wanted to get up and walk outside, but was too weak. He sipped on his water and lay in silence. Soon he fell back asleep, and after a period of fitful, restless slumber, he began to dream . . .

  Daniel walked alone on a Rapa Nui beach, carrying a spear in his hand. It was late at night, and a full moon glowed overhead. A warm ocean breeze playfully tousled his hair.

  He was headed toward his home in ‘Anakena, one he shared with Mahina and their three small children. His family expected him, and Daniel couldn’t wait to hold them in his arms.

  How could he be happier? He was married to the love of his life and, except for the occasional skirmish with the eastern clans, his existence was peaceful and joyous.

  Daniel arrived in front of their oh-so-familiar hut and announced, “Mahina, darling, I’m home!”

  No answer.

  “Mahina, are you there?”

  Suddenly there was a bright flash of light, a sense of spinning and disorientation, and he found himself lying alone on a bed at the Te Manutara Hotel, head propped up on a pillow, staring at the blank wall facing him. No Mahina, no children, no home, no ancient Rapa Nui — no nothing. Where did they all go? Did they ever really exist?

  He never felt so alone. His anguish was overwhelming. He began to scream . . .

  Daniel felt strong hands shaking him.

  “Dan-iel? Dan-iel? Are you okay?”

  As he opened his eyes, he saw Ropata observing him with a concerned look on his face. Daniel glanced around the cave — no one else was there.

  “Ropata,” Daniel said, feeling a little disoriented, “I’m fine. I guess I was having a nightmare.”

  Ropata said, “Dan-iel, you are very flushed. I believe you have a fever. When I heard your screams from outside the cave, I came to check on you.”

  “I’ll be okay,” Daniel lied. Truthfully, he felt like he’d been beaten with a sledgehammer.

  “Whatever you say, but if I were you I’d stay here and rest. All of us have fish-hooks and are trying our hand at catching something to eat. I’m sure I’ll hook some extras, and I’ll be happy to bring some for you.”

  “Thanks Ropata.”

  Ropata smiled at him, then walked to the cave opening and lifted himself up and out into the bright sunlight.

  Daniel lay for a few seconds before he suddenly realized:

  I’m alone.

  It was a golden opportunity.

  He sat up, looked around and noted all the poras were unattended. Maybe he would find something that would help him solve this case. Daniel looked again at the cave opening.

  No one there.

  He had to act fast. First he decided to check out Atamu’s pora, and as quickly as he was able, crawled over to it and began pulling out objects from the inside. First he removed several articles of food — all soaked. There was an obsidian knife — no surprise.

  Suddenly Daniel heard conversation and footsteps coming close to the cave entrance. He had to act fast. In a last desperate thrust, he reached inside one final time. All the objects felt familiar — except one. It was small, rectangular and smooth.

  What is it?

  He heard footsteps just outside the opening as he pulled the unknown article out. In his hand was a silver cigarette lighter, with the initials AG on it. Daniel quickly stuffed it and the other objects back into the pora and made it back to his place just before three others walked into the cave.

  AG — Alejandro Gomez.

  Daniel had all the evidence he needed. As he had suspected —

  Atamu was his man.

  The sky was just beginning to darken, and all the contestants were back in the cave sitting around a smoldering grass fire. Daniel had nibbled at the cooked fish Ropata had given him, but he just didn’t have much of an appetite.

  All in the cave snapped to attention when distinctive screeching sounds were heard from the outside. Manutara birds were landing on the islet. During the night some would lay their eggs.

  Tomorrow was the day they’d waited for, and once an egg was the first to be delivered to Orongo, the Birdman would be declared. But Daniel had a lot more on his mind.

  Can I make it back to Orongo?

  Alive?

  How do I deal with Atamu?

  For now, Daniel closed his eyes and tried to sleep. In the morning he would face the greatest challenge of his life. Meanwhile, his dream was nagging him, haunting him, pushing him to a point of nausea.

  He couldn’t imagine life without Mahina.

  Chapter 12

  At the first light of dawn Daniel, who felt at least as bad as he did the day before, was up and out of the cave along with all the other contestants. Hundreds of screeching black and white birds dotted the island — manutaras. Everyone scurried from bird to bird, brushing aside any that were sitting on the ground, hoping to find an egg underneath. Over his shoulder, Daniel heard a shout.

  “I’ve got one!”

  An excited man held out a small white, speckled egg for all to see, then hustled back down to the cave to grab his pora. When he emerged a few moments later, the egg was secured in a small reed basket tied around his forehead. He jumped into the water and began swimming away as fast as he could.

  Daniel frantically searched everywhere — no luck. Then another contestant found an egg, then another. Ropata found one and yelled at Daniel before he jumped into the sea, “Hurry my friend, before it’s too late.”

  Before long, many — even Atamu — had found eggs and were swimming toward Orongo.

  With a sense of desperation, Daniel scoured the area — over and over again — and finally found an egg on a steep slope, which dropped sharply off into the ocean. He precariously reached over the edge and grabbed it before rushing back into the cave.

  Once inside, he discovered his pora had been slashed into pieces. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out who had done the deed. Fortunately, the little reed basket was unharmed, and he placed his egg in it, strapped it to his head, ran out of the cave and jumped into the sea, chasing after the others and swimming without the support of his damaged pora.

  Daniel was determined. Not only did he hate losing, but more importantly he wanted Mahina — and the Miru — to be proud of him.

  Fortunately the seas were calm that morning, and he swam with determination and strength. He gradually crept up on the pack that once had been well ahead of him. Soon he was in the middle of it, advancing toward t
he front. Hope began to well up in him.

  The encouragement didn’t last long. Daniel heard a loud crunching sound and a shriek from someone to his left.

  “Shark! A shark has me . . . Help!”

  A pool of blood surrounded the man as Daniel reached for him. The man lurched and let out one last sputter before he disappeared into the water.

  Daniel’s fear of sharks once again rose up to meet him, and he found himself near panic.

  What can I do?

  Not a damn thing . . .

  The sharks were in a feeding frenzy. Soon a second, a third and a fourth went down, and Daniel felt like he was swimming more in blood than he was in water. Then it came to him — he quickly swam away from the bloody water to clear seas. Daniel reasoned that, if he could set himself apart, he would have less chance of being attacked.

  Even more went under, screaming and gurgling as they vanished beneath the water. Daniel lost track of how many. Soon Ropata swam to his side, and together they made a beeline for the shore.

  Many anxious moments later they set foot on the beach. Daniel looked back; no remaining swimmers were there — they had been wiped out. Anyone left would be far behind — maybe still on Motu Nui.

  Daniel eyed the sheer cliff and counted three contestants ahead. Climbing near each other, they were about a hundred feet up.

  Atamu was one of them.

  Daniel grimaced as he watched Atamu grab the man next to him by the hair and yank him off the wall. The screaming man fell to the beach and was impaled through the chest by a sharp rock. Daniel paused for a moment to help him, but after a few jerking motions the man died.

  What else would you expect from a murderer? thought Daniel.

  Daniel and Ropata both leaped onto the cliff wall, chasing after those above.

  “I can still do it this,” Daniel told himself as he fought back fatigue. In spite of the speed he was ascending, Ropata was faster and began to edge ahead, closing in on the others.

  From above, Daniel heard Atamu announce, “I have a present for you.”

  All at once a shower of rocks rained down on him, a heavy one striking his head and causing him to see stars. Thankfully the rocks had missed the egg so carefully cradled on his forehead, and stars or no stars, Daniel was grateful.

  Then he felt something dripping on his arm. When he looked up, he realized the blood was streaming from a large cut on Ropata’s back.

  “You okay?” Daniel yelled up to Ropata.

  “I’m fine,” Ropata said, “nothing that beating the shit out of Atamu would not take care of.”

  Daniel smiled briefly. He felt the same way.

  Suddenly another man fell, whizzing past Daniel, screaming all the way to the bottom. While Daniel couldn’t see what had happened, he was certain Atamu had also pulled him off.

  About halfway up, Daniel felt like he was about to pass out. No doubt he was dehydrated, still had a fever, and the exertion was beyond anything he had ever experienced. But he had to keep moving — he had to . . .

  Minutes passed into hours, and as Daniel thought of Mahina he picked up the pace. Daniel began to hear the buzz of the crowd from Orongo and knew he must be getting close to the top. He pressed harder and soon found himself just below Atamu and Ropata, who were standing on a thin rock ledge and shoving at each other.

  Atamu said to Ropata, “Marama warrior, are you ready to die?”

  Ropata responded, “You first,” and hit Atamu in the chin with his fist, nearly knocking Atamu off the edge.

  Then Atamu unexpectedly kicked Ropata’s legs out from under him, and Ropata fell and clung by his fingers to the thin rim of rock he once stood on.

  “No!” Daniel screamed from below.

  “Oh, yes,” Atamu said as he looked down and scowled at Daniel.

  Atamu pulled his obsidian knife from his pora, and with one deep cut sliced off the fingers of Ropata’s left hand. Ropata defiantly grunted and held on with his right hand, sweat pouring down his face.

  Daniel quickly moved up to secure his friend. Before he could get there, Atamu once again brandished his knife and sliced off the fingers of Ropata’s other hand. Ropata yelled out “D – a – n — i — — e — — — l” as he plummeted to his death.

  Daniel had never felt such rage in his life, and his pressing fatigue suddenly became a forgotten memory. He crawled up as fast as he was able to the place where Ropata once stood, barely dodging the swipes of Atamu’s knife.

  Atamu said, “How long I have waited for this moment. Dan-iel, now it is your turn to die.”

  Daniel answered by striking him with a lightning-fast blow to the chest. Atamu momentarily bent over from the punch, then tried to kick Daniel’s legs out from under him, as he had done with Ropata. Daniel sidestepped the kick and once again landed a crushing blow, this time to Atamu’s flank.

  Atamu groaned and, as Daniel moved in, unexpectedly sliced the air in front of Daniel’s face. Daniel leaped back but lost his balance and fell off the edge. It took every bit of strength he had left to catch the rim with his fingers.

  Atamu smiled his skeletal grin and smugly said, “Well, Dan-iel, it seems you are in the same predicament as your friend. Let me help you join him at the bottom.”

  As Atamu leaned over him with knife in hand, Daniel found a last burst of strength and grabbed Atamu’s wrist. Atamu’s eyes bulged as Daniel yanked him over the brink.

  At the last second Atamu grabbed Daniel’s hand, Atamu’s knife spiraling away. Now Daniel was clinging to the ledge with one hand, while Atamu held on for dear life to the other.

  Sheer panic spread across Atamu’s face. “Dan-iel! Don’t let me die!”

  “You scum,” Daniel said, “you deserve to die — but not now.” As Daniel started to pull him up, their hands began to slip apart.

  “Dan-iel, hold tighter!” Atamu demanded.

  “I’m trying.”

  “Nooooooo!” Atamu screamed as he finally slipped out of Daniel’s grip, flailing wildly as he fell to the ground far below.

  No one could survive such a fall, reasoned Daniel.

  Justice is done.

  Daniel pulled himself over the edge of Kari Kari. He paused here for a moment, remembering how he had frozen as he tried to go over the edge those days ago. He looked down at the beach and discovered that a handful of stragglers were now ashore and taking a wide berth around the bodies scattered there. As far as he could tell, no one else was on the cliff, and those on the beach had no chance of catching him.

  Daniel could barely walk as he stumbled down the trail which led into Rano Kau. After what seemed like an eternity, he struggled out of the dormant volcano toward Orongo, where a cheering crowd awaited. As he grew closer, he saw Mahina — tears streaming down her cheeks.

  The group of shamans stood at the front. Paoa stepped forward to greet Daniel.

  Daniel said to Paoa, “Where is Rapahango? I must speak with him.”

  Paoa turned around and called out in a thunderous voice, “Rapahango, step forward!”

  From the crowd Rapahango emerged and stood facing Daniel, spear in hand.

  “Rapahango,” Daniel announced, “Atamu is dead.”

  A loud gasp went up from the crowd.

  “Now as second-in-command, you are the leader of the Miru warriors, so I declare that you are the Birdman for the coming year.”

  A loud cheer went up as Daniel unstrapped the reed basket from his head, removed the egg and handed it to Rapahango, who dropped his spear and received it with his palms up.

  Rapahango screamed at the top of his lungs, and along with the ecstatic crowd, began to dance down the hillside.

  “Well done,” Paoa said. “I knew I had chosen well.” He lowered his voice and whispered, “Did you find the evil you were searching for?”

  “I did.”

  “Atamu?”

  Daniel nodded.

  “I might have guessed,” Paoa said with a knowing look. “I’d like to hear more, but now I have other d
uties to perform, which will take a number of days. If I don’t see you again, safe travels back to your home, wherever it may be.”

  “Thank you,” Daniel said. His heart felt heavy. “I’ll miss you and your wisdom.”

  “And I you and yours.” With that, Paoa momentarily grasped Daniel’s shoulder, then he stepped away and followed the crowd. He glanced back briefly and nodded his head in approval.

  Daniel saw Mahina walking toward him. As they embraced and held each other tightly, Mahina whispered in his ear, “Dan-iel, you are strong and brave, just as I thought you were. I love you with all my heart.”

  Daniel’s exhaustion suddenly hit him, and everything became fuzzy. He barely eked out, “I love you too . . .”

  As he passed out, Mahina’s strong arms caught him.

  Chapter 13

  When Daniel opened his eyes, he discovered he was in a small, dimly lit room with Mahina leaning over him. Groggy as he was, he managed a weak, “Where am I?”

  “In Pakia and Uka’s hut,” answered Mahina softly.

  “Aren’t we in Orongo?”

  “My love, that was three days ago. When you didn’t wake up after you passed out, I was able to get two of Rapahango’s warriors to carry you back here. You have been tossing and turning ever since. I have been worried sick about you and couldn’t leave your side. What would I do without my Dan-iel?” Tears pooled in her eyes.

  Daniel brushed her tears away. Then he remembered — he had been running a high fever.

  Mahina continued, “You were so hot, so terribly hot. But that is now gone. I was hoping you would wake up soon — and you have. Would you like some water?” she asked, a gourd in her hands.

  “Yes, yes,” Daniel said as he took it from her and gingerly drank.

  Daniel asked, “I suppose you heard me say at Orongo that Atamu is dead?”

  “I did.”

  “Before he died,” Daniel confided, “while on Motu Nui I found evidence that linked him to the killings. I’m certain he was the one I was looking for.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”