DEATH ON PARADISE ISLAND: Fiji Islands Mysteries 1

by B. M. Allsopp

  Taleca spoke up. ‘It may be speculation, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.’

  Horseman wanted to move things along. ‘True, Keli, but we can’t go further at the moment. Next on the list is Ratu Waisele Tabualevu, the chief’s nephew. He’s doing his own doctoral research project but is also a paid research assistant on the professor’s team. He’s a Greenpeace member and keen proponent of the Vula Marine Reserve. On Thursday night he was on Delanarua Island, on warden duty for the reserve at his uncle’s request, but we still need confirmation of what he was doing, exactly where and when. He was much further away than Anil Gupta, but could have gone across to Paradise by boat if he’d wanted to. Opportunity possible. We need to check further before we can eliminate him. I’ll talk to Adi Litia, she can put me in touch with Ratu Ezekaia. He’ll be very hands-on with the wardens’ duties this first week of the marine reserve’s operation. With a bit of luck there’ll be witnesses on Delanarua to Waisele’s movements. Any comments?’

  ‘Good plan, boss,’ Taleca said. ‘We really don’t know much about the young ratu.’

  ‘Okay, next up is Sitiveni Doka, postgraduate student and paid assistant for the summer. He also works regularly for the professor during semester collecting live stock for FIMS aquarium trade orders. Funny that, don’t you think? With the marine reserve and everything? Anyway, he took a few days leave to visit his sick mother and is due back on the island tomorrow. So I’ll give him a question mark.’

  ‘Can’t we eliminate him?’ Singh asked.

  ‘I hope so, but not just yet. We need to check where he went and what opportunity he had to get to Paradise on Thursday night. He just might be a possible.’

  Musudroka spoke up again. ‘Has anyone got a motive apart from the professor? He’s the only one on the spot and Dr Chakra was giving him heaps in the bar. Isn’t he the number one suspect?’

  Singh was the first to answer. ‘I agree he is the most likely suspect. He’d be even more likely if Chakra was stabbed or clubbed, on impulse. But the venom injection’s got to be planned. The professor was staying at the resort, away from the camp. Would he just happen to have syringes and snake venom with him in his bure? He claims he hadn’t seen Chakra since last Saturday night, when they discovered Nisi’s body. That’s probably right, as the doctor didn’t return from New Zealand until Wednesday, but we’ve got to check.’

  Horseman continued. ‘Dr Young and I ran into the professor with Winston Lee at the Waterfront on Wednesday night. We were with him for an hour or so. Both Dr Chakra and the professor were in Suva on Wednesday. Sad to say we can’t eliminate any of the scientists at this stage. By the time we meet tomorrow, your investigations should enable us to do so. But first, we need to cast the net wider. Who else had the means to commit this murder?’

  ‘I’m wondering about Ledua, sir,’ Singh said. ‘She’s a nurse, does first-aid for the resort. She assisted Chakra, but she didn’t like him. She was close to Nisi and may have believed him responsible for her death.’

  Horseman nodded. ‘Possible. And we can look further, too. Remember you don’t need qualifications to use a syringe.’

  Musudroka’s hand shot up. ‘Maika spent enough time with the scientists to know about the venom project and see syringes used. We could find out exactly how he helped them out. Did he milk the snakes for venom himself? He might have decided to kill Dr Chakra in revenge, if he’d heard about what he’d done. I mean Nisi’s, um, miscarriage. We’ve kept that quiet, but you know how the coconut wireless is.’

  Taleca spoke up. ‘Remember Tanielo and I have checked his alibi for Nisi’s death as much as humanly possible. Last Wednesday and again on Friday and yesterday, we’ve asked all the staff about Maika and Jona and the boats that afternoon. Guests too. Unless people like Mr McKenzie and Adi Litia are lying, Maika couldn’t have killed her, Tanielo. Same goes for Nisi’s Uncle Jona.’

  Singh shook her head vigorously. ‘Of course, what was I thinking? The idea that Ledua killed Nisi is absurd. So she’s out of the picture for Dr Chakra, too.’

  Musudroka looked round the group. ‘But both Maika and Jona could have killed Dr Chakra. How do we know there aren’t two killers for two murders? They might have nothing to do with each other.’

  Singh answered him. ‘In theory that’s not impossible. But the chance of two murders within a week in such a small community in Fiji, is very slight. What chance of two murderers? I’d say none. We’ve got to pursue what’s more likely.’

  ‘I’m with you, Sarge,’ Taleca said. ‘Tanielo, listen to the voices of experience!’ Musudroka made a show of sulking, but his lively eyes betrayed his pleasure in the discussion. Horseman thought he could do well.

  ‘Before we allocate tasks, you should know that Akanisi’s funeral is tomorrow, on Delanarua. It’s important to show our respect. It’s also a chance to observe and perhaps talk to some of our suspects. I’d like Sergeant Singh and DC Musudroka to attend with me. We can count on being occupied there most of the morning.’

  The excitement evaporated. Eighteen year-old Nisi was dead and would be put in the earth tomorrow. All four detectives fell silent.

  After a few beats, Horseman said, ‘We’ve agreed if we can find Chakra’s killer, we’ll have found Nisi’s killer—99 per cent certain. So let’s challenge the Fiji Sunday culture. What answers can we find this afternoon? Keli, follow up Chakra’s movements last Wednesday afternoon and evening with his lawyer, his maid, neighbour, his colleague Dr Pillai, anyone else you can find. Did he meet the professor or any others in the FIMS camp team? Check with the Waterfront hotel and any FIMS staff who are on deck on Sunday afternoon too. Musudroka can help you.’

  Taleca stood up at once. ‘Do what I can, boss. Most people are expert at being unavailable on Sundays, you know.’

  Horseman raised his eyebrows. ‘Only too well! That’s why I need you here tomorrow morning, filling in any blank spaces from this afternoon. See if you can get passenger lists for the ferries and flights to Savusavu on Wednesday and Thursday. We need to confirm Sitiveni Doka was there when Chakra died and cross him off the list. Leave yourselves time for church, that goes without saying.’

  Keli saluted. ‘Tanielo, come to church with me at six and dinner at my place afterwards. Compensation for slaving for me all day.’

  Musudroka beamed. ‘Vinaka vakalevu.’

  Horseman looked at Singh. ‘That leaves you and me to unearth every trace of Professor Burgermeister, Anil and Waisele from last Saturday’s celebrations to Chakra’s death. We’ll hit the phones first but we might need to hop over to Paradise again. Check if there’s a police boat free.’

  MONDAY

  41

  DELANARUA ISLAND

  The heavens wept for Akanisi as her body lay in her village church. The rain had pounded the sea into puckered grey submission as the police launch motored to Delanarua Island, and the golf umbrellas didn’t stop their legs being soaked while they walked across to the white church. Singh had only ever attended Christian funerals in the line of duty, her focus on the mourners, not on the ceremony. But Nisi’s death had got under her skin since she and Horseman had unwrapped her body together at the resort.

  She’d intended to enter last and take her observer’s position at the very back. But the villagers, surprised and grateful that the great Josefa Horseman had come to pay his respects, paused only to kick off shoes and fold umbrellas at the door before escorting the police officers to places near the front of the church, where the pandanus mats were piled thick. Gazing now at the simple coffin, a confronting image appeared in her mind, as first the coffin, then the layers of masi interleaved with flowers peeled off one by one, revealing Nisi’s lacerated golden brown body in her pure white church dress. Just as she’d seen a week ago.

  Village women had adorned the church’s simple interior with fresh green palm fronds and yellow, cream and white
flowers. The blend of mokosoi, ginger and frangipani scents was fresher and sweeter than any incense. Unable to look around without being rude, she found herself listening to Reverend Mosese. The Fijian spoken by the Vula lagoon people was different, but she was getting used to it now and could understand the gist in spite of the rain machine-gunning the corrugated iron roof.

  She learned, among other things, that Nisi had taught Sunday school before taking up her job on the resort, and trained the younger children’s choir. When the children, dressed in white, sang Nisi’s favourite song, ‘Jesus Loves Me’, even she, a non-practising Sikh, shed tears for their loveliness, innocence and faith. One of the pre-schoolers in the front row gripped the mat so hard with her little brown feet that the ends of her toes turned white, but she held her head up as Nisi had trained her and sang confidently.

  Ratu Ezekaia sat in an armchair near the front of the church at right angles to the congregation; Nisi’s parents, her father with his head shaved according to the old custom, were in the front row. The young families around them must be their older daughters, sons-in-law and grandchildren, nephews and nieces.

  She didn’t attempt to join in the stirring hymns, but the boss’s rich baritone on her left and Tanielo’s clear tenor on her right more than compensated. The soaring harmonies overwhelmed her and lifted her spirits, although she was only a listener.

  The minister and the chief led the procession from the church into the rain, followed by the flower-wreathed coffin, borne by six young men, one of them Maika. Then Nisi’s parents and numerous family. As the officers were in the next row, they stood and followed on, so Singh could see the other mourners as she walked slowly down the aisle. Ledua and the McKenzies were on the right side of the church, Professor Burgermeister and Anil a few rows behind them and other resort staff in a group near the back.

  The cemetery was partly sheltered by the dense foliage of overhanging trees, but the mats lining the open grave were drenched in muddy water. When the words had been said, the coffin lowered, the mats folded over, tucked in, and handfuls of sticky red clay thrown on top, all except the immediate family retreated. At the gate, she glanced back and saw men shovelling earth.

  The rain eased, then petered out as the congregation walked back to the church, black and white garments sheltered by bright umbrellas. Shafts of sunlight pierced the dark clouds. Horseman was surrounded by people eager to shake his hand and accept his condolences. She drew Musudroka aside.

  ‘Mingle with the young men and listen, Tanielo. I’m going to say hello to Professor Burgermeister.’

  She found him under the thatched shelter where village women were dispensing brewed tea from an immense, shining aluminium teapot. He’d put on a navy blue sulu for the occasion; the ends barely overlapped at the front. She was glad he had his baggy shorts underneath. He added milk powder and raw sugar to his mug, not noticing her until she greeted him. He shook his head at her wearily.

  ‘It’s a sad day, Detective Sergeant. That’s for sure.’ He wiped his wet face on the sleeve of his white shirt; raindrops or tears, perhaps both.

  ‘I’m thankful Nisi’s family has been able to bury her at last.’

  ‘Sure. Ah, here’s Anil. Get yourself some tea, Anil.’ Singh didn’t feel like tea but the two men would be more relaxed if she had a mug in her hand too. She lined up with Anil, who pushed strands of damp hair behind his ears. The rain was gone for the moment, so they stood outside the shelter to dry off their clothes. Others were doing the same, enjoying the freshness of the warm air on wet skin and garments.

  ‘How’s it goin’ with Vijay’s death?’ Burgermeister asked.

  ‘It’s early days, Professor. I’m afraid there are no clear leads yet.’

  He looked at her, smiled a small smile which did not reach his eyes, hard like blue glass marbles. ‘The autopsy results must be in, surely?’

  ‘Provisional, yes. The pathologist’s waiting on some tests that take a bit of time, so. . .’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. You’re unable to say anything at this stage.’

  She didn’t like others completing her sentences for her. ‘I’m afraid you’re correct, Professor.’

  She turned to Anil. ‘It was good you could come. I saw Wes in church, but what about Steve? He spent quite a bit of time over here, didn’t he?’

  ‘Steve went to visit his sick mother in Vanua Levu last week. We’re expecting him back in Suva later on today. He won’t even know about Dr Chakra yet.’ He bent his head and his hair hung over his face again.

  ‘Mr Lee isn’t here either. Nor Guy Dawson,’ she said.

  Anil shrugged.

  ‘Are you guys going back to Suva, or to the camp?’

  ‘We’ve been invited to the lovo, it seems rude not to stay,’ Burgermeister said. We’ll go back to the resort with the McKenzies and the others. Our project’s done, tomorrow we’ll get on with packing up. Wes and Steve should be back on the job in the morning.’

  ‘When are you expecting Steve?’

  ‘He intended to get back to Suva today, and catch the early resort launch from Navua back to Paradise tomorrow morning. It usually leaves about eight o’clock. He should be back with us in camp by nine.’ Burgermeister answered.

  ‘Will he be on the ferry from Savusavu that gets in this afternoon?’

  Anil shrugged. ‘Dunno, maybe. I don’t think he’s rich enough to buy an air ticket.’ He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. ‘Last camp we were sad to pack up, but now all we want is to leave. It’s not the same.’

  Horseman limped across to them, looking handsome in his grey sulu, white shirt and black tie, black jacket over his arm. More than handsome, chiefly. No way was he a chief, but he looked chiefly. Maybe because everyone looked up to him. But Singh had always found part-European families had an easy confidence. That could come from early colonial days when that tiny minority were often a bridge between the British and the Fijian villagers. Whatever the cause, they had a different attitude from Indians, who were in no doubt about their lower status in society.

  Horseman caught her eye and nodded in the direction of their launch. Musudroka was already waiting there with the boatman, fending off a swarm of white-clad children.

  ‘It looks like we’re on our way,’ she said to the two scientists. ‘One of us will be in touch.’

  Men and women armed with sticks and spades were removing the hot stones from the lovo pit. As they were rolled aside, fragrant steam with more than a hint of smokiness rose from the banana leaves beneath. The leaves were raked aside, and bundles wrapped in banana leaves were piled on trays and carried off in the direction of the school.

  The organisers of the funeral must have decided to abandon the decorated feasting shelters erected only days before. It was the right decision: the ground was totally sodden, whereas the school had cement floors. But the decorated poles and green thatch of the shelters, so fitting for this girl who loved flowers, looked forlorn. Of course, those here today would make only a dent in the mountain of pork, beef, chickens, dalo, yams, cassava and puddings being lifted from the pit; most would be distributed through the net of relationships linking the villages of the lagoon and beyond. Nisi’s sisters would take wrapped parcels, each with a selection of dishes, back to their homes in Suva, Lautoka and Sigatoka and give them to in-laws and neighbours. More would go back to Paradise resort, probably in the care of Jona, or perhaps the McKenzies, for the staff. The expense could be crippling, even for a large extended family like Nisi’s.

  ‘I hope people have been generous with their contributions for all this,’ she said to Horseman as she joined him on the sandy path to the beach. ‘Nisi’s parents look so frail—her mother’s lifeless, like a rag doll.’

  ‘Yes. And her father shaving his head—that’s rare these days. They must be very traditional people, despite having such a modern chief. I heard
that Ian McKenzie gave a steer and two pigs. With Adi Litia around he’s not short of advice on how to do the right thing by Fijian customs and he has the good sense to follow it. He could do well here long term.’

  ‘If his wife lets him. She’s obviously unhappy. I lost track of Maika, I’m afraid. Did you catch up with him?’ she asked.

  ‘I tried to talk to him but he resisted. Said he had to help and dashed off. Now he’s in the thick of it over at the lovo pit.’

  They looked back in silence. The mingled voices grew louder as the business of feeding a crowd took priority for the hosts. The lovo fragrance reeled in the scattered groups of mourners, who began to squelch across the grass to the school hall. Horseman said, ‘The best thing we can do to help those parents is to discover who killed their daughter and why. Let’s get back to Suva and crack this case.’

  They turned towards the boat. A brilliant rainbow arched from the Delanarua hills across the water to Paradise Island. The children on the beach pointed to the sky, cavorting and yelling in shrill, happy voices.

  42

  SUVA

  Taleca, cheerful in a red hibiscus-patterned bula shirt, met the three soberly dressed funeral guests at the police wharf. They decided to catch up in the harbourside park before pursuing their individual tasks.

  Horseman thought of the succulent funeral lovo as he bit into his humble roti. Pumpkin and onion, but with plenty of garlic, chilli and turmeric, wrapped in naan bread made that morning, it was good, too. He munched appreciatively for a bit.

  Taleca said, ‘Boss, I’m certain Dr Chakra didn’t meet Professor Burgermeister last Wednesday. His maid says he went home after leaving the police station. She unpacked his suitcase and made a snack for him. He was eating when Sarge and I so rudely appeared with our search warrant. After we’d left the maid says Dr Chakra drove off, saying he’d be out for dinner. Mr Tagore confirms they met for more than an hour in his office, prepared that supplementary statement, then went to Toru’s Teppanyaki Temple for dinner. Staff there remember them staying until around eleven, drinking in the bar. Tanielo trailed photos of Dr Chakra and the professor round the better restaurants and hotels yesterday—no one remembers Dr Chakra. People at the Waterfront remember Professor B, who’s a regular there.’