DEATH ON PARADISE ISLAND: Fiji Islands Mysteries 1
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‘Vinaka, Reverend Mosese, that’s very helpful. Perhaps Ratu Ezekaia noticed Nisi and the men too. Is he in the village now?’
‘No, I’m afraid not, Detective Sergeant. He’s visiting one of the southern villages today. Shall we call on Nisi’s parents now?’
Susie dared to hope that she’d just uncovered a real clue to Nisi’s tragedy, and what’s more, that her boss had not beaten her to it.
21
SUVA
At seven o’clock that evening, Horseman sat in the bar of the Waterfront Hotel in a cane club chair that gave him a good view of the entrance to the foyer. The comfort of the upholstery, the air-conditioning, the icy Fiji Bitter in front of him, and the mellow sound of cool jazz guitar muffling the crowded bar noise, were taking the edge off his exasperation. He remembered Melissa—guiltily. He’d not had a chance today to sign up with an internet provider for his laptop. But right in front of him was a sign announcing that the Waterfront lounge and bar provided wireless connection. Another change. But he’d left his laptop at the station.
He went to the reception counter, showed his ID and asked to use one of the guest computers. Handing him a card with a user name and password, the receptionist smiled as she declined to accept payment. He should have thought of this before. Yes, Melissa had sent two messages already: messages full of love, the pain of parting and humorous advice. He was hopeless at expressing his feelings, but after three attempts he clicked ‘Send’. However pathetic, she needed something from him. He’d get a phone card tomorrow.
Dr Young strode through the bar and flung his lanky frame into the chair opposite Horseman.
‘Sorry I’m late, mate. Don’t get up, you look buggered.’
Horseman signalled to the waiter for another beer. ‘It seems an age since I landed yesterday. Yesterday! Can’t believe it.’
‘No rest for you after your extended holiday in the land of plenty. I bet the decree came from on high.’
Horseman managed a weary grin. ‘Matt, I don’t mind if I’m getting somewhere. But I’ve been running around for two days now, talking to people who can’t or won’t tell me anything useful, and accumulating a heap of paper for the files. With each day, the likelihood of solving the case diminishes. I’ll get a week to concentrate on Nisi’s death—after that I’ll be given other cases and have to scale down the time I can devote to hers. If Nisi was murdered, I owe it to her and her grieving family to discover who killed her and why. I can’t fail in this.’
‘You’re not the lone Horseman, you know, mate!’
Horseman grinned. ‘No, Sergeant Singh seems competent, and I know Kelepi Taleca’s extremely efficient, I’m lucky to have him. This afternoon I got a raw CID recruit who’s at least keen.’
The waiter placed a frosted glass on the table and poured the beer with a flourish. Dr Young raised his glass to Horseman, downed half in a series of unhurried gulps, then set the glass down precisely in the centre of the coaster.
‘Mate, I want to tell you something.’ He paused significantly. ‘I took another look at the brain. Now I reckon it’s not so likely that head wound was sustained diving or falling into the water. When you fall and hit your head, as well as injury at the impact site there’ll usually be some lesser brain damage opposite the wound, on the other side of the head—it’s called contre coup damage. I can’t see any. None at all. The water would slightly reduce the impact, but still, I’d expect to see something.’
‘I should know better than to ask, but can you be certain she was hit before she entered the water?’
‘Yeah, you should know better, mate. I said the diving or falling scenario was less likely. I can’t rule it out. So far. But toxicology might give us something. Forensics might have something tomorrow, too. Or the next day.’ Dr Young drained his glass.
Singh stood at the entrance, looking around. Released from the ponytail, her hair shone. She’d somehow managed to change into a hip-hugging black skirt and loose silvery grey top. Horseman rose and waved. She joined him, attracting glances as she walked through the bar. He introduced her to Dr Young.
‘Delighted to meet you, and I look forward to working with you, um, Detective Sergeant Singh. No, I can’t possibly call you that. Can I?’
She smiled happily. ‘You can if you like, but call me Susie if you prefer.’
‘I do Susie, that suits you better. What would you like to drink?’
Singh’s Chapman arrived swiftly. She glanced at both men, raising her glass. ‘Bula, I need this. I’ve spent far too much time in tiny boats today.’ They all drank. ‘What’ve we got, gentlemen?’
While Dr Young repeated his interim post-mortem findings for Singh, Horseman drained his beer, only half-listening. Seeing Tevita back on the streets had churned him up at least as much as the lack of progress on the case. After all, Tevita and the other street kids had made real progress before he went to the States. Or he’d thought so. The idea that some of the police were again getting their kicks from harassing the shoe-shine boys depressed him. But he regretted his encounter with the duty sergeant at the station two hours ago. The man denied any over-zealousness, much less harassment, and even less, demands for protection payments by the foot patrols. Horseman’s interference in the uniforms’ territory would not advance the kids’ welfare, he knew. And he could only agree with the sergeant’s final troubled words on the matter.
‘All the same, Joe, these Fijian boys should be off the streets and doing something more useful—school or farming. There aren’t any jobs for them here in the city and they’ll end up criminals before long. They bring shame on their clans and their villages. Foreigners must think we Fijians let our children run wild, that we don’t care about them.’
Horseman had seen the more desperate plight of greater numbers of street kids in bigger and richer cities overseas, but he murmured agreement and changed tack.
‘What happened to the junior Shiners team, Vili?’ Horseman asked.
‘Oh, I wasn’t involved, but I think they got more and more unreliable, not turning up for training. The last few games they played short, so the coach, Sami, cancelled in the end. Sami’s since been transferred to Labasa.’
Horseman heard himself say, ‘I’m going to revive the team, Vili. Rugby’s what they want—it’ll give them purpose and discipline. You’re concerned about the boys, I know. I’d be grateful for your help.’
‘Vinaka Joe, but it’s not for me. I’d lose patience in two minutes with those cheeky rascals. But you’ll have no shortage of helpers. Good luck!’
So he’d taken soundings on the Shiners on the CID floor. Amid the approving nods, averted eyes and non-committal noises, Musudroka’s hand had shot up. He was eager to help in any capacity. By the time Horseman left for the Waterfront, Musudroka was photocopying a notice about the revival of the team. He promised to pin one on every noticeboard in the building straight away.
Dr Young stood up. ‘My shout, Joe. Another beer? Let’s move outside, it looks like a breeze has come up.’
They took their drinks out to a table at the edge of the terrace. The onshore breeze was cool and gentle, wafting the scent of ginger flowers from the gardens bordering the harbour wall. Dr Young resumed his conversation with Susie.
‘What do you think about the marine reserve, Susie? You must have heard various opinions about it by now.’
‘Not really. Everyone seems excited about it. Anyone who’s opposed hasn’t said so to me. It’s an area I know nothing about, but if the lagoon’s overfished, then banning fishing, at least for a while, is a logical solution. My main query is whether the bans will be obeyed. The scientists think they will be, but I’m not sure how much control the chief and his warden system will have.’
Horseman said, ‘Let’s hope it works. Professor Burgermeister’s account of the research involved certainly impressed me. His enthusiasm
, too.’
‘It can work, you know. There’s a little bay in Sydney Harbour, near where I lived in Manly, that’s been turned into a marine reserve. Quite a small area, sand and rocks, overlooked by apartment buildings, with a public footpath along the waterfront. All quite busy, I think that’s why it works—it’d be hard to fish or do anything there without someone noticing. The change in the place when I went back two years ago! Fish everywhere, all sizes, completely unafraid of people. And anemones, complete with clownfish, crabs, sea slugs, stars, the lot! Everyone in the district’s proud of it. People come from all over Sydney to snorkel there now, more than came before to fish.’
They talked desultorily until their glasses were empty. Then Dr Young shifted to the edge of his chair.
‘I’d best be off, then. I’m sure you two have secret police business to discuss. Are you going out to Paradise again?’
‘Yes, tomorrow morning. We’ll see if the post-mortem findings prompt anyone to be more forthcoming. We’re taking the police speedboat, too. They won’t like that on full display at the jetty, frightening the guests. Might help jog some memories.’
‘Good luck.’ Dr Young hauled himself out of the low chair. ‘Susie, so glad to have met you. I’ll be in touch tomorrow, Joe.’
‘Try my mobile when you’ve got something, Matt. Reception’s unreliable there, but it’s worth trying.’
‘Will do. Good night to you both.’
Twenty minutes later, the two detectives had shared the day’s haul of information.
‘I managed to book a police boat to take the team and the SOCOs to Paradise Island first thing.’ Horseman said. ‘We’ll break the news that Nisi’s death is now classified as suspicious.’
‘They’re not going to like that.’
‘No, we can tell them about Nisi’s pregnancy, see if we can find out who the father is.’
‘From what we heard yesterday, most people would expect that to be Maika. Could be someone else on Delanarua though.’ Singh said.
‘True. But surely someone must’ve known. Of course, we’ll press Maika harder this time. And I’d like to see how Jona reacts.’
‘It’d be good if Ledua would divulge more. Nisi seems to have been quite close to her.’
‘Agreed. I think you’ll have more success with Ledua than me. I’ll leave her to you.’
As they headed out through the cacophony of the bar, Horseman’s mobile vibrated. He hurried outside.
‘Vijay Chakra, Detective Inspector Horseman. I believe you’ve been trying to ring me.’ The too-smooth drawl spoke boredom and condescension. In spades.
‘Yes, I have, Dr Chakra. Where are you now?’
‘In Auckland, naturally. Came down to visit my children at school here. Didn’t anyone tell you?’ A self-satisfied, fake chuckle. ‘Oh well, good to know I can trust the staff to guard my privacy. How can I be of assistance, Detective Inspector?’
‘Dr Chakra, I need to talk to you urgently about the death of your patient on Paradise Island last Saturday. You discovered Akanisi’s body, you’re a vital witness.’
‘Really? Bill Burgermeister was there too. Hasn’t he told you about it? I did all I could, advised the manager of correct procedure, of which he was completely ignorant. I don’t think I can tell you anything that others haven’t told you already. I am willing, naturally, to attend the inquest if required.’
‘As Investigating Officer, I do need to speak to you, Doctor.’
The slow sigh signalled patience sorely tried. Horseman’s antipathy mounted with every patronising word. ‘Obviously, I’m prepared to go through it all again when I get back if that’s what your bureaucracy demands.’
‘When will you return, Dr Chakra?’
‘Well, let’s see. It must be Wednesday morning, because I have surgery that afternoon. Air New Zealand, direct to Nausori.’
‘I’ll see you on Wednesday then, Dr Chakra. Goodbye.’ It’d be hard to be objective about Chakra after listening to his superior sneer. In the meantime, tomorrow morning at low tide, Paradise Island would receive a more formal visit from the police.
TUESDAY
22
PARADISE ISLAND
The police speedboat zoomed in to the edge of the Paradise fringing reef, then slowed down. The boatman navigated cautiously, aided by a bow look-out wearing polaroid glasses. He pulled up at the end of the stone sea wall in full view of the guests breakfasting on the terrace, and everyone else alerted by the boat’s roar. The boatman took his time tying up. The six passengers took their time disembarking. The two Scene-Of-Crime officers methodically unloaded their gear onto the sea wall, while the four detectives, Horseman, Singh, Taleca and Musudroka, strolled along the wall towards the terrace. Before they reached it, the straw-hatted manager hurried out to meet them.
‘Good morning, officers.’ McKenzie did not smile, but shook hands with Horseman, nodding to the others. ‘I wasn’t expecting you today. I would gladly have sent a boat to bring you over.’
The manager was rattled. Good. ‘I appreciate that, Mr McKenzie, but the Suva police boat was available, so there was no need to trouble you. And when the SOCOs have finished with the crime scene, the boat can take them straight back to their lab in Suva, out of your way.’
The manager frowned. ‘Crime scene? What the hell’s happening? What are they going to do?’ Then he glanced round, became aware of the spectators’ interest and lowered his voice. ‘You’d better come to the office. Sai, send some tea over, would you?’ Sai, who was sweeping conveniently within earshot, strode off. McKenzie nodded towards the SOCOs, who were getting into their overalls on the sea wall. ‘Would they like tea?’ He was compulsively hospitable, even to those who annoyed him.
‘They’re self-contained, Mr McKenzie, brought their own supplies in the boat. To avoid contaminating the scene. There’s still about an hour before low tide, so they’ll search Akanisi’s room first. Detective Sergeant Singh will take them there now while we continue our conversation.’
‘There’ve been six tides since Nisi’s body was found! What sort of useless exercise is this?’ McKenzie protested. When they were seated in the office, Horseman explained the post-mortem results. The blood drained from McKenzie’s face.
After a few moments he said, ‘You’ll have to move your boat round to the jetty right away, before the tide gets any lower’. Horseman nodded to Taleca, who left immediately.
‘One couple who were booked until next Sunday are leaving today—Tuesday! They said it was too distressing to think about Nisi’s death. I wonder how many more will follow by the end of the day. Do you know what you’re doing to this place?’
Horseman gazed levelly at the indignant manager. ‘Investigating the death, possibly murder, of one of your staff. Don’t you agree that takes priority?’
McKenzie stared open-mouthed for a few beats, then blustered. ‘Yes, of course, but surely not. . .’
Time to push harder. ‘It’s in everyone’s interest to resolve this tragedy quickly. It will help if you’re frank with me, Mr McKenzie. Nisi was pregnant. Who would the father be?’
McKenzie’s mouth fell open again. ‘I have no idea, just as I had no idea she was pregnant.’
‘Come now, why did you approve her sick leave?’
‘Vijay, Dr Chakra, recommended it, but he didn’t explain the reason. I’m a responsible employer, Inspector. I try to ensure the welfare of the staff and I always follow our doctor’s opinion in relation to sick leave.’
‘Now you know she was pregnant, whom would you suspect?’
‘She and Maika spent quite a bit of time together, but I’ve no right to. . .’
Horseman cut in sternly. ‘You’ve an obligation to answer my questions honestly and fully, Mr McKenzie.’
‘Look, I know nothing about it. I really shouldn’t hav
e mentioned Maika. Please forget that.’
‘You’ve got about twenty staff cooped up here together, Mr McKenzie. It must be difficult managing the inevitable conflicts and jealousies?’
‘Not at all, in fact I’ve been amazed at how few problems there are here. Everyone seems to get on fine. They’re a happy crew, a family!’
‘Precisely, and most murder victims are killed by their nearest and dearest.’
‘I can think of no one here who would harm Nisi, let alone kill her. I firmly believe her death was an accident.’
Sooner or later McKenzie would stop denying reality. It was always hard to accept murder close to home. ‘How did she get on with her uncle, Jona? Nisi became involved with the scientists’ work, didn’t she? Did she disapprove of his catching turtles and keeping them here until the price was right?’
McKenzie threw his hands up. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Your happy crew, Mr McKenzie. Please don’t pretend there are no conflicts and arguments here. They’re natural and inevitable. I imagine Jona was outraged when you released his turtles. He’d regard that as theft, wouldn’t he? Stealing your outboard was an eye for an eye, wasn’t it?’
McKenzie’s face flamed. But a tap at the door killed whatever he was going to say. Eseta entered, deposited a large tray on the side table, and proceeded to set out the tea things on the manager’s desk.
‘Thank you, Essie, no need to serve us.’ Essie glanced at them and hastened to leave. The manager’s ingrained hospitality won out over his anger as he poured tea, offered milk, sugar and a generous plate of buttery ginger shortbread. Horseman wouldn’t speak until McKenzie responded to his challenge. They sipped tea together until the manager put his cup down with a sigh.
‘Very well, you know about the turtles. I have no evidence that Jona was responsible for keeping them. And as for stealing the outboard—Jona wouldn’t steal! He’s a church leader. It could’ve been anyone.’