A Plot to Die For (A Ghostwriter Mystery)

by C. A. Larmer

  With no one to help her.

  Willie was very young, much younger than she realised, and had what looked like a safety pin crudely thrust through one ear. His curly black hair was hidden behind his beanie and he had a slight amount of stubble just above his lips—a teenager’s attempt to grow a moustache. Where the sleeves had been torn off his cotton work shirt she saw thick, rippled biceps, glistening now with sweat. He moved suddenly, reaching into his pocket and brought something silver out. A switchblade.

  She thought her heart would leap out of her chest. He flicked it open and held it up as Roxy’s legs almost gave way beneath her. She darted anxious glances behind him, to the road and her escape.

  He stepped closer to her. “I cut,” he said.

  She looked at him, startled. He indicated the passionfruit.

  “Oh!” she exhaled loudly, the sweat dripping down her face. “Of course, right, the fruit. Yes, great, that would be... great.”

  She handed it over and he stabbed into it and around it, slicing it into two. He handed it back and she tried to smile, sure she was looking more like a crazed nutter than anything.

  “Okay, then, thank you,” she said and he stepped aside to allow her back onto the path.

  She tried not to run down it like a madwoman, tried to maintain a dignified pace, but every cell in her body was urging her to flee. Just in case. She glanced back, noticed that he was following slowly, at a distance, and she tried to take deep, calming breaths. She gradually picked up her pace, not daring to look back now, knowing that if he chose to continue following her, to catch up, hit her over the head and bury her in a ditch somewhere, there would be no one around to stop him.

  No one to hear her scream.

  The sweat was streaming from Roxy’s body and she was panting loudly when she finally reached the open airstrip. A sudden, cool gust of air whipped against her like a splash of cold water and she sighed, thrilled by the cool change. Only then, out there in the open, did she dare to glance back. Willie was now nowhere to be seen. He had clearly stopped following her some time ago. She dropped the passionfruit she had been clinging to, gulped for air and kept walking.

  At the small wooden terminal she looked back again. Still no one. She buckled over, breathing heavily, then reached for her water bottle and drank it eagerly, splashing water down her chin and top. Roxy didn’t know where Willie had got to, but she wasn’t about to stick around and find out. She continued on, back towards the hotel now, her pace slower, her breath calmer, her heartbeat steadier.

  Half an hour later, Roxy found herself at the surf beach, Taboo, and she dropped down onto the sand under the fronds of a coconut tree that was leaning out, like a broken beach umbrella. She wasn’t far from the hotel now and she was feeling much safer, more relaxed. She was also feeling a little foolish. Willie was probably a perfectly nice teenage boy, and he was probably scratching his head about now, wondering why the loony white woman had dashed off so fast.

  She tugged her trousers off and peeled the wet shirt from her back to reveal her swimsuit underneath, then ran across the soft, sizzling sand to the water’s edge and into the cooling waves. It wasn’t as rough today but her weary limbs made easy flotsam for the tide, and eventually, exhausted but refreshed, she dragged herself out and back up the beach to her shady spot.

  That’s when she spotted the blue and white resort towel on the sand just a few metres away. She hadn’t noticed it before and she looked across the beach then peered out to the horizon. At first she couldn’t see a thing. Then she saw it, a tanned body rising up on its surfboard above a mighty wave and pummelling down the other end. Whoever this guy was, he certainly knew how to surf. She watched as he eventually dropped into the water, then climbed back on his board and paddled out to sea again. Roxy polished off the lunch Mary had made her—a cheese and salad roll—as she watched him make one more successful ride into shore. This time, he didn’t turn back, simply waded towards the beach, shaking out his curly black hair as he came.

  Once on firm sand, Joshua scooped the board up and threw it under one arm like it was a twig, then made his way to his towel. He noticed Roxy then and stopped, looking slightly startled before raising his spare arm to wave.

  She waved back, watching him intently. Joshua was a very good-looking man, she hadn’t really appreciated that until now. He was a handsome combination of dark, muscular islander and tall, lean expatriate, and she wondered, suddenly, into which world he really belonged. He dropped his board onto the sand, reached for his towel, patted his face with it, then strode across to Roxy and sat down beside her, puffing a little, his eyes blood shot.

  “That was quite a ride,” she said. “You should be giving Luc lessons.”

  “Nah, he can stick to his art. It’s more his style. You been here long?”

  “Just long enough to see you ride a few tubes.” She crinkled up her nose. “Did I get that horribly wrong?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, pretty lame.”

  “Good to see you out from behind that front desk, though. You seem to work around the clock.”

  “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta do it. It doesn’t do itself. But, nah, I didn’t get a good night’s sleep. Needed to clear my head.”

  “Understandable. Your uncle not happy this morning?”

  Joshua shrugged. “Oh he’s alright. He’ll get over it.” He paused. “He thinks we’re all hiding something from him. He thinks someone knows something and is not being honest.”

  “And do they?”

  Joshua stared at her. “I dunno. I don’t know anything. Do you?”

  His eyes searched hers so intensely she was glad she was wearing her dark prescription sunglasses.

  “I hear Helen’s back this arvo,” she said.

  He looked away then, out to sea. “Yeah, well, whatever.”

  “You’re not worried? For her safety? That the killer might try again.”

  He shrugged, shook his head, no.

  “Yet you told me earlier that you don’t think she tried to kill herself.”

  “No I don’t.”

  “Then that only leaves one other option.”

  She was watching him closely but he remained expressionless, just staring out at the missed waves that were crashing into shore.

  “Helen did take the quinine. Deliberately. But she wasn’t trying to kill herself, was she?”

  That caught his attention. Joshua snapped his face around to look at her. His jaw tightened. His eyes darted across hers.

  “What do you mean?”

  Roxy took a deep breath. She was feeling weary to the core now, from confronting Doc, from running into Willie, from circling the entire island. But she knew she was close to the end and it all needed to come out.

  “I know Helen was pregnant, Joshua,” she said finally. “I’ve known it for some time.”

  Joshua looked as though he’d been slapped across the face. His jaw dropped, his cheeks blushed, he couldn’t quite meet her eyes.

  She continued on. “It’s not rocket science, Joshua. Helen’s been nauseous since I got here. Barely touched her food. Tired all the time. At her age, it’s always a bit of a giveaway. I also know that she’d gone to see Doc, probably to confirm the pregnancy. Was that what that brown package was all about?”

  He looked at her strangely.

  “The pharmacy package you got off the pilot when I first arrived? Was it something to do with the pregnancy? A testing kit perhaps?”

  He slowly nodded his head but he still wasn’t speaking, so she tried one final tack.

  “It’s yours, isn’t it, Joshua? It’s your baby.”

  The young man slumped suddenly, his head falling into his knees and he groaned so deeply he sounded half animal. But, still, he remained silent.

  “That night at cocktails, when you were so happy, you said you were so proud,” said Roxy. “You toasted life if I recall. You knew you were becoming a dad, didn’t you? You were so thrilled.”

  He turned to look at her
for what seemed like hours, clearly trying to decide whether he could trust her, and eventually, he nodded.

  “Sure, why not? I don’t see why this should be a secret anymore. Why it ever was to be honest. Yep, that’s my baby. And I’m proud of it. It’s mine. Was...” His eyes darkened. “She made a promise to me that day, man, she promised she’d keep it. But—” he stopped short, turned away again.

  “But she broke her promise to you, didn’t she? That’s why she took the quinine? She dissolved it in some whisky last night when she knew we would all be preoccupied with dinner.”

  He sniffed, ran a hand through his wet locks. Said nothing again.

  “I know all about quinine, Joshua. I’ve done my research and I know Helen did hers, too. Quinine is a little-known folk remedy for self-induced abortion. I read about it online and I’ve got clippings about it at home. For the past hundred years dozens of poor women have used it to abort their unwanted foetuses. Admittedly not with a lot of success, but still...” She took another deep breath. “You think she was trying to abort your baby, last night, don’t you?”

  “What do you think?!” His temper was now rising. “I don’t bloody think she was trying to kill herself, she was too self-centred for that.”

  “You might be right. But what if you’re not? What if someone really was trying to kill her. Like Abi?”

  He shook his head, the wet curls splashing out around them.

  “Nope, nope. Helen was doing exactly what Helen wanted to do. Miss Control Freak. She’s always been like that. Can’t possibly have an unplanned child. Oh, no, that’s not in the rule book, see.”

  Ah, thought Roxy, one more loose end tied up. “So you were the guys I overheard talking below my window that day? She was telling you she didn’t want to keep the baby? But why? Did she think a child would get in the way?”

  “It’s not a frickin’ piece of furniture you can push aside,” he hissed. “I thought I’d talked her round. She promised me she’d keep it. Shit, man, that was my baby! She had no right!”

  “Hey, settle down Josh, it could all be okay. I didn’t see any blood, so it may not have worked. The baby might be perfectly fine.”

  “After what she did to it? You saw her. Even if it is alive, God knows what damage she’s done. Shit!”

  Tears began streaming down the man’s face. His big brown eyes were brimming with misery.

  “I love Helen, always have. More than she deserves. She rarely gives me the time of day. Just scraps, here and there, to keep me dangling. This is all I wanted from her. It’s all I asked for. And she tried to kill that, too.”

  Roxy looked baffled. “What do you mean ‘she tried to kill that too’?”

  He looked at her stonily, his eyebrows arched.

  “You’re not saying Helen killed her mother, too, are you?”

  She groaned. Was everyone on this island out to implicate Helen?

  He shrugged. “Why not? I wouldn’t put it past her. Abortion, murder, same thing.”

  His bitterness was so palpable, Roxy could almost taste it, and her heart ached for this young man. He needed some help and she knew where he could get it.

  “Have you told your uncle any of this?” He shook his head. “Listen, Joshua, you need to speak with him about it. Whether Helen killed Abi or not, you need to tell him about the baby, the attempted abortion.”

  “It’s none of his business.”

  “You don’t know that. We’re only assuming at this point that she tried to abort. Did she tell you that was what she was going to do?”

  “No, but—”

  “But we don’t know for sure. Maybe the killer did try to strike twice. Chief Davara needs to look at all the avenues until we know the facts.”

  Joshua was still shaking his head.

  “Not my place to tell him. Helen knows the truth, she can do the honours when she gets back.”

  He stood up and slung his towel around his neck.

  “I’ve gotta get back. God knows the place will be falling apart by now.”

  He collected his surfboard and strode swiftly across the sand towards the road, leaving Roxy’s head spinning behind him.

  Roxy had taken a punt with Joshua. Had only guessed that Helen was pregnant, that she had ingested the quinine in a futile attempt to kill her baby, just as other desperate women had tried to do for almost a century; the same women Oliver had read about in her scrapbook. But her suspicions had all but been confirmed. She glanced at her watch. There was one other person who could tell her for sure, but she wouldn’t be back for quite some time.

  Chapter 18

  Helen returned to Dormay sooner than anyone had had anticipated. It was not yet 3pm when Roxy discovered her resting out by the patio, leaning back on a cushioned recliner chair. She had a cotton blanket around her body, and dark sunglasses on. Roxy was freshly showered after her gruelling walk, and had only come here to think, her own sunnies and journal in tow. She stared at Helen with surprise.

  “When did you get back?”

  “Oh, hello Roxy. Um, not long ago. Doc’s steaming, of course. Said I should have stayed at the hospital another night.” She shuddered. “No thank you. Discharged myself, Wade gave me a lift back.”

  “May I?”

  Roxy indicated the wicker chair beside Helen and she nodded. They both watched the ocean for a few minutes, not speaking.

  Eventually, Helen said, “I guess you’ve figured it all out?”

  Roxy nodded. “Well, some of it at least. You’re pregnant, right?” Helen nodded again. “So, how much quinine did you take?”

  “Just 4 grams,” she said.

  “That’s a lot, Helen. You’re only supposed to take about an eighth of that at a time.”

  “Oh please don’t lecture me, Roxy. I’ve had Doc in one ear, Josh in the other.”

  She held her hands up. “Okay, okay, no lectures. So, how’s your eyesight?”

  “Much better, surprisingly. 20/20 vision my doctor tells me.” She sighed. “I didn’t think I’d ever see again. Who knew four measly grams of quinine could rob you of your eyesight but not your baby?”

  She choked back what sounded like a laugh, could easily have been a sob.

  “You’re very lucky you didn’t lose both of them, for good. Not to mention kill yourself in the process. Joshua’s devastated, you know, about the baby.”

  “Well he needn’t be. It’s still there, let me assure you all.”

  Her tone was bitter.

  “I think he’s more hurt that you would even attempt to take away his unborn child. And in such a dangerous way.”

  “Well it’s his own fault, really.”

  “Joshua’s? Why?”

  She brushed an auburn strand of hair from her face. “Because I never would have got the idea if it wasn’t for him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Helen turned to look at Roxy. “He didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Joshua was the one looking up quinine, not me.”

  “Sorry? I’m confused.”

  “I just went to the library that day to investigate land rights. Wade had told me what my mother was up to, how she had been in to the Lands Commission—apparently the Commissioner’s one of the many bureaucrats Wade’s got firmly in his pocket. Anyway, he came here that first night you arrived, all pent up about it, insisting I stop her. I said he was being ridiculous, that mother wouldn’t do that to me. But I have to admit, I was a little worried so, the next day, when you and my mother were doing that afternoon interview, I went to the library to do a bit of research. I just wanted to know what my rights were, that’s all.”

  “That’s when you stumbled on the Indian Tonic Water site?”

  “Yes, well Joshua had just been on the computer... he had the page open before me. I thought, why is he looking this stuff up? Then I started reading and I noticed a strange link.”

  “The link to the abortion information?”

  “That’s right. Oh I
know I was foolish, Roxy, I credit myself with more sense than that. But when I read that an extra couple of doses of quinine might induce abortion, I thought, great, get rid of the blasted thing.”

  “Why? Just because your mother didn’t approve?”

  “Oh she was fine with the pregnancy, just very worried it was Joshua’s. She said it wasn’t right.”

  “Why? That’s what I don’t get. What was Abi’s problem with Joshua?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll never know. She just said he was ‘a better worker than a man’. Whatever the hell that means. Odd, really, because I know she loved him.”

  That old bell of Roxy’s began clanging again in the back of her head but she let it ring away for now. She had other, more pertinent questions to ask.

  “Okay, back to the computer then. So you saw some info on how quinine can induce abortion?”

  “Yes and to be honest I didn’t really think much more of it. But after Josh had failed to get me a pregnancy kit I thought I’d better go and see Doc, confirm it once and for all. That’s when I noticed Doc’s supply of quinine. So I pinched some while he wasn’t looking and, well, after he confirmed the pregnancy, I decided I needed to get rid of it, and fast.”

  “Whoa! Hang on a minute,” Roxy said, holding up one hand. “Can we just go back a few steps. What do you mean Josh didn’t get you a pregnancy kit? Didn’t Davo, the pilot, fly one in on the day I arrived?”

  “No. He was supposed to. The blasted man forgot to pick it up or something.”

  “But I saw Joshua get a brown parcel off the pilot. There was definitely something in it.”

  Helen shrugged. “Not my pregnancy kit.” She laughed, a fake kind of gurgle. “Ironic really. If he had bought the kit, I might not have gone to see Doc and I might not have pinched the quinine...”

  “But why do it that way? Why not go to the mainland hospital for an abortion?”

  “In that roach-infested hovel? No thank you. I’d end up with septicemia.”