‘Yes, it could, but Jona’s the one with motive, means and opportunity, isn’t he? You’ve been unable to replace the motor yet, your fleet’s reduced—that must be costing you. Jona embarrassed his own chief at Saturday’s lunch by ranting on about his God-given dominion over the fish of the sea. He skippered and almost capsized the boat carrying the chief. Is that boat out of action too?’
McKenzie shook his head. ‘Fortunately not. She shipped some water when the gunwale went under, but the boys baled her out immediately and kept an eye on her. No leaks. Nisi’s death delayed getting her up on the slipway for a proper check but Jona did that yesterday. I made sure I was present. There are a couple of dents and scrapes on the bottom on the port side, exactly the damage you’d expect from the low coral outcrops here and there just off the beach. The tide was just a bit lower than Jona estimated.’
‘From here it looks like a concerted campaign against the marine reserve. I’m wondering how many of the staff here support Jona. How many would you guess?’
The manager rubbed his brow wearily. ‘Litia assures me Jona would never sabotage the chief’s ceremony, no matter what his private feelings about the fishing bans. Believe me, I want to assist your enquiry into Nisi’s death. But how could Nisi’s death be connected to the reserve inauguration? Still can’t see it. And I believe the staff support the reserve.’
‘How likely are staff to confide in Adi Litia, d’you think? But that’s your business. Mr McKenzie, it would really help very much if you try to remember any other happenings here that may have been directed against the reserve. When you think of anything, please let me know immediately. And although it’s not my focus, I’d like a copy of any paperwork you have for that stolen outboard motor, the date of the theft and so on. I’ll pass it on to our specialists.’ The manager nodded. ‘Now, where can I find Jona?’
Jona Vaturua headed back to his boathouse near the jetty after supervising the mooring of the police speedboat. Horseman waited for him at the door, shaded by the deep eave of corrugated iron overlaid with thatch.
‘Yadra, Jona Vaturua.’
‘Io, yadra vinaka, Josefa Horseman.’
Horseman continued in Fijian. ‘I’d like to speak to you about your niece’s post-mortem examination.’
Jona’s full mouth compressed to a straight line. He watched Horseman silently.
A few green plastic chairs were stacked by the door, beside a matching table set with a coconut shell ash tray. ‘Shall we sit here?’ Horseman suggested.
Jona nodded and Horseman lifted two chairs from the stack. He placed one for Jona facing the light and seated himself opposite. After Horseman told him about Nisi’s post-mortem, Jona sat still, staring at the ash tray until Horseman broke the silence.
‘Did you know your niece was pregnant, Jona?’
Jona shook his head slowly, then raised bewildered eyes to meet Horseman’s.
‘Who do you think is the father?’ Horseman asked.
As if he had not heard the question, the boatman whispered, ‘How could she? How could she?’ His eyes filled and two tears rolled down his cheeks while his huge hands bunched into fists.
‘You know this happens all the time, Jona. In your village too.’
‘Indeed what you say is true—these are godless times. But, my Akanisi, no—I was here to watch over her, you know. Her parents will be destroyed by this news. I am responsible.’
‘How so, Jona? You know, if Nisi hadn’t died and her pregnancy continued, the parents would soon have got over their shock, the couple would have married, the baby’s arrival would have dispelled any lingering ill feeling, and all would have been forgotten.’
The boatman nodded slowly. ‘True, true.’
‘You must have some idea who the father is, surely?’
Jona continued to nod slowly, head bent, as though thinking through possibilities that had never occurred to him before. Horseman gave him time, then decided he was facing the polite Fijian intransigence which could be every bit as exasperating as the obscene taunts spat at police officers in American cities. He changed tack, deciding to confront Jona with his mishandling of the blessing ceremony boat.
‘Jona, how did you run the boat carrying the chief onto the coral last Saturday afternoon?’
Jona immediately looked up, the deep brown of his face darkening even more. ‘God forgive me for my mistake. Public humiliation is a good teacher, but I wish God had punished my pride in another way. I thought I knew these waters so well I didn’t need a forward look-out, so I ordered Maika to stay in the stern to help Ratu Ezekaia and Reverend Mosese. From the wheel I couldn’t see the sea-floor ahead, the tide was running out and I must have been a bit closer to the beach than I thought.’ He slapped his thighs hard. ‘Fortunately, Ratu Ezekaia takes such mistakes in his stride—not like the old days, eh?’ Jona’s sly look reminded Horseman of the lethal consequences of chiefly fury in pre-colonial times.
Horseman had to admit the scene sketched by both McKenzie and Jona was plausible. ‘I’ve heard a theory that you wanted to sabotage the marine reserve.’
‘What nonsense, the chief has set it up, so it is now in operation, whether a boat hits a rock or not. It was not possible to sabotage it.’
‘True. But it must have been embarrassing for your chief. You couldn’t resist showing your resentment, could you? Just a bit. Because now you won’t be able to catch turtles any more, will you?’
‘What?’ Jona stared at Horseman, eyes wide open now.
‘The turtles that Mr McKenzie discovered in the staff quarters and released. They must have been a profitable sideline for you. You must have been itching to pay him back for that.’
Jona eyed him suspiciously but did not answer.
‘Still, stealing a powerful motor like that’s risky, isn’t it? It would take clever planning, contacts. I’m curious about where you offloaded it so that the police didn’t get to hear about it.’
Jona smiled faintly, as if unable to conceal his pride in his achievement. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ovisa. I don’t know who stole the motor.’
‘But I have a problem with all this, Jona. I find it so hard to believe that a true Christian like yourself would be greedy for money.’
Jona straightened up, clasped his burly hands on the table, his face serious. ‘You are right, Josefa Horseman, my actions are directed by God’s will.’
Horseman resisted the temptation to refer to the eighth, or was it the seventh commandment, forbidding theft. ‘What is God’s will for the marine reserve, Jona?’
The boatman leaned forward, clasped his hands together again and looked intently at Horseman. Jona was right back in his comfort zone with this question.
‘It could not be more clear, right at the beginning of Genesis. God’s word instructs us to rule over all His other creatures on earth and sea. They are here for our use.’ He nodded kindly.
‘What are we to do when we have eaten them all?’
The boatman was all paternal concern. ‘Do not worry, that will not happen, for our God is gracious. But even if famine struck, God would provide. Faith is the answer.’
‘Did Akanisi have faith, Jona?’
The boatman compressed his lips. ‘She did. I thought so. Even until her death, which I do not understand, she attended our services here, Bible study and choir practice.’
‘I understand she was interested in the scientists’ work, even spent some of her free time assisting them. Did she talk to you about that?’
‘She said nothing of that to me. I would have forbidden her.’
‘How would you have done that? She was no longer a child.’
‘She was proud of working, of earning her living here, but she was a girl who attracted more attention than was good for her character. Her death has shown that I was
right, that she needed firm guidance, exposed as she was to the vanities of the resort. I tried my best to give it, but my best was not enough.’
‘Did you ever need to chastise your niece physically, Jona?’ Horseman asked gently.
‘It’s the most difficult task God has given us, isn’t it, to use the rod on a child who is dear to us?’
‘Tell me about the times when you used the rod, Jona.’
The boatman looked startled. ‘The rod? Oh, you must know I was speaking in parables, quoting the Bible. No, I never used a rod. However, on one or two occasions here, as her guardian, I was compelled to hit her with my hand, yes.’ His overdeveloped arms and enormous hands flexed, the nerves and muscles remembering.
Horseman waited. The boatman seemed to be rehearsing his story, his head bowed, lips moving slightly. Or else he was praying. Horseman did not doubt Jona would lie freely, with God’s permission, but he seemed engaged in a mental struggle. Eventually Horseman felt forced to break the silence.
‘What was it that compelled you?’
‘She had to learn to put childish games away, to be dignified, humble and modest. She was frivolous with the young men here, leading them on. Then the scientists. . . she was curious about them when they first arrived, but I knew they would lead her astray with their godless teachings. They deny God’s creation!’ His voice reached a crescendo of uncomprehending revulsion. ‘They are doing the devil’s work!’
‘Did you notice any particular man flirting with her?’
The boatman could not control his agitation and thumped his huge fist on the table. ‘Yes, I did, Ovisa. You should talk to Guy Dawson, the dive master, the kaivalagi, the foreigner. He is typical of those immoral adventurers who come to our waters seeking only their own fortunes. They are highly paid and complain, while we Fijians are grateful for our pittance. They seduce our innocent women and father bastards they never stay long enough to acknowledge.’
That was one way of looking at it, certainly. There were others. His own mysterious ancestor had been drafted into the service of a high chief, and rewarded for that service with at least one wife and other impulsive gifts. All for the chief’s desire for a horse. He had stayed for the rest of his life and founded a lineage. Had he wanted to? Any attempt to escape would have meant instant death. He just hoped his ancestor had been a happy captive.
Nisi had dreamed of escape. Looking now at her uncle, his powerful upper body tensed with anger, there was no doubt he could have killed her with one savage blow to the head. Moral outrage, heightened by xenophobia and possibly sexual jealousy. But he wouldn’t have meant her to die. Even if this scenario could be proved, which was highly unlikely, the charge could only be manslaughter.
‘What about the Fijian boys, Jona?’
Jona was suddenly suspicious. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Didn’t the young men working here admire Akanisi? I’d be surprised if one of them wasn’t in love with her. Or more. Maika, for example.’
The boatman’s eyes practically popped. ‘Maika? How preposterous! They were childhood playmates. Friends. Everyone liked Nisi. But I believe they behaved chastely. The staff quarters are full of alert eyes and ears, you know.’
Horseman thought of the hectares of palms and sandy scrub, the beaches, the rocky coves, and the folded gullies of the hill.
23
PARADISE ISLAND
The glossy white door to the housekeeper’s domain sprang open just as Singh reached to knock. She crashed into a stack of freshly dried sheets balanced on outstretched arms.
‘Jilou, jilou, excuse me,’ the middle-aged maid laughed.
Singh laughed too. ‘Sorry, have you seen Mrs Marama?’
‘She shouldn’t be long. Take a seat inside, dear. Make yourself at home.’
‘Vinaka.’ Neatly organised cleaning equipment now filled the store room where Nisi had lain for sixteen long hours before leaving the island for the last time. Singh’s legs were a little unsteady after the ordeal of the high speed boat trip which the others seemed to relish, so she found a glass and went to the refrigerator. It was packed with glass carafes of water and small cartons of juice and milk. There were also a few interesting-looking litre bottles in the door racks containing liquids in various shades of brown and green. Home-brewed iced tea and cordial?
She took a carafe of water to the table, filled her glass and drained it. She hadn’t realised she was so thirsty. She poured another glass and returned the carafe to the fridge. Were the bottles in the door really iced tea? She unscrewed the cap of one and sniffed. A strong, bitter odour, not much like tea, or anything else one would want to drink. An essence then, or home remedy.
‘Good morning, Detective Sergeant. Oh, I don’t advise you to try that!’ Ledua sounded short of breath.
‘Excuse me, Mrs Marama. I felt a bit dizzy and got myself some cold water. I was just wondering if these bottles were iced tea or something.’
Round beads of sweat on the housekeeper’s brow joined and ran down to her eyebrows. Those on her neck trickled beneath her turquoise uniform shirt. She paused to recover her breath. ‘That’s quite alright. Have all the water you want. And please call me Ledua! Those bottles are my store of tonics, traditional herbal remedies, you know.’
‘Oh yes, my mother brews remedies, too. She still doses me whenever I visit. Must say I’ve never felt any effect, for good or ill.’
The housekeeper wagged her finger. ‘Ah, but you don’t know what ills they are preventing, my dear, do you? How would you be without them?’
‘That’s exactly what my mother says. What are yours for?’
‘Two are mine, the other three have been sent over from Delanarua, where all the ingredients grow. A couple strengthen the blood, build up the immune system. One is a good purgative, another gives you energy, peps you up. Counteracts all that kava the men drink these days. Kava’s terrible stuff, makes you sluggish! The other one is a tonic for women, to regulate menstruation.’
Ledua switched on the overhead fan, got herself a glass and sat down opposite Singh, mopping her face with a large pink handkerchief. ‘It’s so very humid today isn’t it?’ She laughed. ‘Listen to me! I say the same thing ten times every day for five months!’
‘So do we all, Ledua. Tell me, where do your medicines fit in with Dr Chakra’s clinic?’
‘He knows I have my tonics and sometimes he suggests to patients that they get something from me. But usually staff come to me directly for this or that.’
‘Did Akanisi take any of your tonics, Ledua?’
‘Yes, she did. I thought she might be anaemic, so I referred her to Dr Chakra. He gave her iron tablets, but she continued to take the tonic.’
‘Which one?’ For the first time, Ledua hesitated, perhaps only now realising the implications of the conversation begun so naturally. ‘Er–well, she took both blood tonics. I can assure you my remedies are harmless, my dear.’
Singh touched Ledua’s arm, reassuring. ‘I’m sure they are, too.’
Ledua clasped her hands together on the table, twisting them back and forth.
‘Ledua, I take it you’ve already heard about the post-mortem findings?’ Susie asked.
‘Yes, Ian told me just now. I’d like to hear the details from you, though.’ Her lips trembled, so did her voice.
When Singh had finished, Ledua whispered to the table, ‘So we still don’t know how Nisi died. Could it have been an accident?’
‘Yes, we can’t completely rule out an accident yet, Ledua, but it’s hard to see how it could have happened. You know better than me the highest cliffs on Paradise are only a few metres, and all of them are above sandy beaches, not rocks or the sea. Falling or even jumping off any of them’s unlikely to be fatal. On the other hand, it’s easy to see how she could have been murdered.’
Ledua
held her pink handkerchief to her face with both trembling hands. Singh gently asked, ‘Ledua, did you know or suspect that Nisi was pregnant?’, then waited until Ledua was able to speak. When she did, her voice was husky.
‘She didn’t tell me, but I knew, even though I hoped I was wrong. I’m a registered nurse, you know. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask her about it. I hoped she’d confide in me.’
‘Who told you she was going home on sick leave?’
‘Ian did, on the day she left. She’d seen Dr Chakra and he recommended it.’
‘Did you talk to her before she left?’
Ledua shook her head slowly. ‘I didn’t get the chance. Maika was taking one of the scientists across to Delanarua that afternoon and Ian suggested she go with them. So she went. I suppose Ian didn’t want to send a boat specially if he didn’t have to.’
‘You help Dr Chakra when he comes, don’t you Ledua?’
‘Not a lot. I organise the list of patients for him, help out with dressings and so on if he asks. Very often he brings an intern or student with him for work experience, then he doesn’t need me.’
‘Did he bring an intern the day he sent Nisi home?’
‘No, but I just gave him the list. He didn’t ask me to assist that day.’
‘Didn’t he say anything to you about Nisi?’
Ledua shook her head slowly. ‘No, but he isn’t one to discuss patients’ details. I’ll give him that.’
‘Tell me more about Dr Chakra, Ledua. You’ve seen a lot of doctors in your time. How do you rate him?’
Ledua hesitated. ‘I’m hardly qualified to rate doctors. . .’
Singh spoke gently. ‘Who better than an experienced nurse? It would help me to get a picture of what happens in the clinic, what Nisi experienced before she died.’
‘I can only tell you that to me he seems competent. But he’s somehow careless. No, that’s not the right word, I don’t mean that he makes mistakes. He doesn’t, as far as I’m aware. But he just always seems rather casual to me, doesn’t make much of an effort. Like he does everything quickly, to get it over with, a cover for his dirty weekends.’
DEATH ON PARADISE ISLAND: Fiji Islands Mysteries 1 Page 15