My breakfast is almost finished when Jose appears on the lawn. He’s standing over a flowerbed, weeding the soil, when I beckon him over. The young man is still carrying his hoe when he hurries towards me, like he plans to use it for self-defence. Up close he looks boyish even though he’s twenty-five, with fine Creole features and an athletic build, his skin golden in the sun, curly brown hair touching his shoulders. I can still remember the day his mother brought him to the villa, answering questions on his behalf. She assured me that he was a good worker, able to understand instructions even though he can’t speak, but today his amber stare is unsettling. He doesn’t smile when I thank him for taking excellent care of the garden and the pool. Jose’s expression remains neutral when I explain that he mustn’t follow Phillip around, or visit my gardens late at night, for no valid reason. I feel certain he’s understood every word, but the only emotion he shows is relief when I finally dismiss him. My young gardener hurries away, still clutching his garden implement like a musket. The conversation leaves me uncomfortable. I’ve never been certain how much Jose understands, but I hope his odd behaviour stops or I’ll be forced to speak to his mother, who is under enough pressure caring for her large family.
I’m finishing my coffee when another visitor arrives. It takes me a moment to recognise Solomon Nile as the young man Jasper and I sponsored through his university education; it’s a pleasure to see him. I can’t help smiling at how uncomfortable he looks in his policeman’s uniform, his shirt so well pressed the creases in his sleeves are razor-sharp. His thin gold-rimmed glasses look out of place, the rest of his appearance resembling a heavyweight boxer.
‘Solomon Nile, you were a gangly teenager last time we met. It’s wonderful to see you looking so well.’
He reaches out to shake my hand, but I rise onto my toes to kiss his cheek instead. ‘Welcome back, Lady Veronica. You’ve been away too long.’
‘Call me Vee, please. I heard all about your first-class degree, and your decision to join the police. Sit down and tell me everything. Jasper and I assumed you’d stay on at the university.’
He eases into a chair. ‘I’d even chosen a topic for my PhD, but I realised I prefer doing something practical, and I wanted to make a difference. I was selected for fast-track officer training with the Oxfordshire police.’
‘I never even made it to university, we’re both so proud of you.’
‘It’s all thanks to you and Lord Blake.’
‘No gratitude, please, Solomon. You sent us dozens of letters and Christmas cards, which I adored. Your graduation photo is still on our mantelpiece. You looked terrifically handsome in your cap and gown.’
‘I didn’t expect to get that far.’
‘Miss Eveline said you were the brightest child she’d taught. You remember her, don’t you?’
His eyes glitter with amusement. ‘We’re still in contact and she’s gentler these days. Miss Eveline cared so much about A grades, she rapped my knuckles with her ruler every time I let mine slip, which focused my mind.’
‘I’m thrilled you came back, but a little surprised.’
‘The situation changed, Lady Vee. My father’s not well.’
‘I’m sorry to hear it.’
‘He doesn’t complain, but Parkinson’s disease is slowing him down.’
‘That’s hard for such a dynamic man. I’m sure he still has a warrior’s heart, even if his body’s weaker. He had a reputation for fighting to protect the island’s fishing rights. I remember the rival fishermen who sailed over from Bequia got rough justice from Hosea and his colleagues. I promise to visit him soon; Hosea’s always been a friend of mine. But you’re here about Amanda Fortini, aren’t you?’
Nile draws a notebook from his pocket. When his gaze falls on me again it’s like a laser, precision-sharp. ‘What do you know about her, Lady Vee?’
‘Amanda’s been helping with the Reef Revival project. She’s one of my goddaughter’s closest friends, as well as our next-door neighbour.’
‘Can you describe Ms Fortini for me?’
‘People think she’s just a socialite, because the gossip magazines love her, but she’s becoming an excellent businesswoman, despite being so young. Amanda’s art gallery in New York is thriving; that’s why she loves coming here each summer to unwind. She’s one of those girls that draw attention, like moths to a flame. She looks like a conventional beauty, but she’s clever, and good company too.’
‘Has she got a boyfriend?’
‘You’d have to ask Lily, she’s down at Old Plantation harbour. I don’t concern myself with the young ones’ love affairs, it would deplete my energy.’
‘I don’t blame you, Lady Vee. I’ll speak to your goddaughter now.’
‘Stay for a moment, please, I’m enjoying our chat. Don’t you miss your history books, Solomon?’
‘Every day, Lady Vee, but the past matters less than the present.’ Nile’s smile ignites for the first time, making his eyes gleam, behind their thin shields of glass.
‘Tell me more about your time in Oxford.’
‘I’m happy to, if you give me some information. Do you happen to know which islanders own the big speedboats?’
The question forces me to search my memory. ‘There’s one at Basil’s, my friend Phil Everard has one, and so do Dr Bunbury and Keith Belmont. I can’t stand the horrid things myself; they consume so much fuel and make a dreadful racket. Why do you ask?’
‘It’s just part of my enquiry.’
I watch him scribble the names in his notebook, then fire a fresh question at him, until he shares details about his time in the UK. He was placed on the fast-track graduate programme in the Oxfordshire police, which could have led to a lucrative senior position, yet he’s chosen to return, rather than send home money for his father’s care. I wonder why, but I relax in my chair, thrilled by his achievements, his voice a pleasing baritone. He looks like an athlete not a detective, but Jasper and I were right to buy him an education. Solomon’s intelligence shows in the intensity of his gaze and his precise speech. If he can bring Lily’s friend home safely, we will be eternally grateful.
7
DS NILE ASKS a few more questions about Amanda Fortini, then says goodbye. Lady Veronica’s style hasn’t changed since she handed him an achievement certificate on his last day at school. She must be almost seventy but her features are so youthful, she could be in her fifties, her clothes still elegant and unique. She’s dressed in white today, a loose-fitting tunic, matching kurta trousers, with a straw hat protecting her face from the sun. Her manner is still playful but firm, her skin so pale she must protect it carefully, her eyes alert and wise. The pressure to find the missing woman feels heavier as he takes his leave. Lady Vee and Lord Blake have sponsored him so generously, he can’t let them down.
Nile is travelling on foot today, hoping to see more by taking his time. His walk leads him through the island’s northern section. It’s the most heavily populated area of Mustique, with villas every few hundred metres. The developers have tried to conceal them behind high walls and fast-growing palms, but the structures swell from the ground like mushrooms. He loved cycling round this area as a kid, fascinated by the ornate buildings. Some look like fairy-tale castles, while others resemble mansions in Tuscany, or English estates. The place is awash with money, yet it’s like a ghost town. Most of the rock stars, aristocrats, and millionaires who use their holiday homes just once a year have flown home already. The villas all have delicate names like Hummingbird, Peace, and Lotus Flower, but their windows are battened down with ugly metal shutters.
Lily Calder’s boat is moored on the island’s sheltered western coast, facing the Caribbean, instead of the rough Atlantic. Old Plantation Bay is the island’s smallest harbour, with a dozen fishing boats moored on the jetty. Almost everyone here owns a boat of some kind, from a canoe all the way up to thirty-foot yachts. Bigger craft are forced to anchor at sea, because there are no deep harbours. The mega-yachts must use launches
to motor ashore, provided they have an invitation. Calder’s boat, Revival, is a converted fishing trawler, which has seen better days. There’s no sign of her as Nile approaches the quay, but his first duty is to check the two large speedboats moored on either side of the jetty. The huge Bayrider XR7s can accommodate ten guests at least, decked out with leather seats and handrails in shiny chrome. When he checks the licence stickers on their prows, they belong to two of the island’s permanent residents, Phillip Everard and Keith Belmont. Both men are from the world of showbusiness, but Nile has never met either of them. Their boats look sleek and blameless, no sign of damage on their fibreglass hulls. With no villas overlooking the bay, he will have a hard time proving that either of them left the harbour the morning Amanda Fortini went missing, but there are still two more boats to check.
There’s no reply when Nile calls out for permission to go on board Lily Calder’s boat. The woman who emerges from the cabin brings him to a standstill. She’s tall and long-limbed, with glossy black hair, her movements as supple as a ballet dancer. The outline of her yellow bikini shows through a T-shirt that skims the tops of her thighs, her sunglasses balanced on top of her head. She assesses him with intense blue eyes before covering them with her shades. He’s glad that his are already concealed. Hopefully she won’t notice how badly she’s blindsided him. He’s lost for words, until she steps forward, hand outstretched.
‘DS Solomon Nile?’
‘That’s right, Ms Calder. You called about your friend.’
‘Lily, please. I was hoping we’d meet yesterday.’
‘I came looking for you here, and at your home. We must have missed each other.’ Her expression remains guarded. ‘Could you go through the information again for me please?’
She drops onto a bench at the stern of her boat, gesturing for him to do the same. ‘Amanda said she’d visit me on Friday night, but never showed up, which isn’t her style. She’s never let me down in all the years I’ve known her. I went round to her villa early yesterday morning, but she hadn’t slept there. She’s not answering her mobile either.’
‘Someone from Lovell saw her taking an early swim in Britannia Bay. No one’s seen her since.’
When Lily removes her shades again Nile realises that she’s scared, not aloof after all. There’s a look of horror in her turquoise eyes. ‘There’s no way she drowned. She’s spent the summer reef diving with me; she can swim for miles.’
‘It’s possible she swam out to the big yacht you can see from here. Do you know the owners?’
‘I’m afraid not. She’d have said, if friends had arrived.’
‘A big speedboat was seen in the bay when Amanda was swimming, like the ones moored here. Do you know if either ever get taken out early in the morning? It’s possible the driver saw her in the water.’
‘Neither get much use. I don’t know why Phil keeps one; he’s got dodgy sea legs these days. Keith takes his out occasionally, but I’ve been nagging him about how much fuel they burn.’
‘Thanks, that’s useful. Can you tell me if Amanda has a boyfriend, here on Mustique?’
‘She was seeing Tommy Rothmore until a month ago, which hasn’t been easy. Four of us have been friends for years: Amanda, Sacha, me and Tommy. We were more like sisters and brothers as kids. He was volunteering on the Revival project too, but he stopped coming out with us after they split up. Amanda hinted that she’d found someone else, but it hadn’t worked out. Maybe it was just a fling she didn’t want to make public.’
‘Why not?’
‘Amanda’s a celebrity in America, and Tommy’s from a well-known family too. I think she wants to keep her love life quiet this time, but she and Tommy were talking about getting engaged earlier this year. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings either.’
‘Can you think of anything unusual Amanda’s done recently? Something out of character?’
The young woman looks pensive. ‘A few weeks ago I saw her at the Bamboo Church, which seemed odd. Her parents are religious, but she hardly ever goes to church. Her conversation with Pastor Boakye looked pretty intense. They were sitting together on one of the pews. I asked her about it, but she just changed the subject.’
The Bamboo Church lies close to the airport, a simple outdoor structure, where dozens of ceremonies are held each year. Nile has only met the new pastor Pastor Boakye a handful of times, but he’s made a good impression on the local community.
‘I’ll pay him a call.’ Nile scribbles a few words in his notebook. When he looks up, Calder is studying him so intently it feels like he’s been placed under a microscope. ‘I promise to find out what’s happened to your friend.’
Her eyes glisten with tears she quickly blinks away. ‘I’m worried, that’s why I’m here all the time, keeping busy. Amanda’s more like a sister than a friend. What can I do to help?’
‘Tell me if she has any enemies on Mustique.’
Calder shakes her head. ‘No one, but she and Sacha have argued lately. They were fine until Tommy came between them. I think Sacha was jealous when Amanda started dating him last year. She’s been visiting him since the relationship ended.’
‘Has Amanda got many close friends here?’
‘Everyone loves her. Amanda’s this free-spirited golden girl with the world at her feet, but she hasn’t changed. She believes in my project so she volunteered to help. We’ve spent weeks diving together.’
‘How’s it going?’
‘We’re grafting live coral onto sections that have been bleached. There are signs of recovery.’ The enthusiasm suddenly slips from her face. ‘Someone’s not keen on my work though. Did you hear about the graffiti on my boat last week?’
‘Leave Mustique or die like the coral. Who do you think did it?’
She pauses before replying. ‘Tommy, probably, to upset Amanda. I care about him as a friend, but he’s incredibly sensitive. He doesn’t normally drink much at all, but he’s hit the bottle hard since their break-up.’
‘Is there anything else I should know?’
‘Someone followed me home on Thursday, then again last night. I heard footsteps as I came through the trees. The path was empty, every time I turned back.’
‘Don’t go out alone at night, please, until Amanda’s home.’
Her vivid blue gaze travels across Nile’s face again. ‘You think she’s in danger, don’t you?’
‘I’ll find out soon,’ he replies, rising to his feet. ‘Thanks for your time.’
‘Ring me, please, when you have news.’
‘You should stay in the harbour today, Ms Calder. If the storm heads this way you could never outrun it.’
‘The radio says it won’t arrive for days.’ A quick smile crosses her face. ‘I just need to check if my latest grafts have taken; it won’t take long.’
Nile can tell that issuing another instruction would be a waste of breath. Lily Calder is already stowing oxygen cylinders away, preparing for her next dive. The woman is beautiful enough to leave her imprint on his retinas, but she’s from another world. He pushes the attraction aside before it can leave a mark, yet her turquoise stare bothers him as he walks inland.
8
BASIL’S BAR IS one of my favourite places on Mustique, so I walk there for my mid-morning coffee instead of taking the buggy, glad of some exercise. It takes just twenty minutes to follow the winding track to Britannia Bay. I remember when the bar was just a broken-down shack on the beach, with a handful of tables, lukewarm beer and a fire pit for night-time barbecues. The place is much more sophisticated now. The bay looks prettier than ever; the sea is a calm blue ribbon, connecting the ocean to the sky.
When I sit on one of the bar stools, I can picture the place right at the start, with all-night parties, limbo dancing and skinny-dipping at dawn. The island was like a big country estate back then, every face familiar, no cares in the world. The bar only exists because my husband happened to find a young man by the roadside in St Vincent. Basil Charles had been hit by a ca
r, so Jasper took him to hospital and they kept in touch. We both took such a liking to the charismatic young man we brought him to Mustique and helped him set up his bar. I glance around, looking for his distinctive white hair and legendary smile, but there’s no sign of him. Basil has so many business ventures now, he’s rarely seen in Mustique apart from at the annual Blues Festival that he started years ago.
I recognise a man sitting by the bar as Dexter Adebayo. He’s in his fifties now, but I remember him as a handsome young diving instructor, who had just earned his licence to take hotel guests out to explore the reef. He runs his own small business now and he’s gained a few stone, a big man with an air of dignity that contrasts with his colourful clothes. He’s wearing a vivid Hawaiian shirt, over well-worn jeans, his hair in thick grey dreadlocks. His quiet manner has given him a reputation as a good listener. If Dex sold the secrets of every wealthy holidaymaker who confided in him, while out on his boat, he’d be a millionaire. He looks older than last time we met, but his face splits into a grin when he sees me, and suddenly the years drop away.
‘Welcome back, Lady Vee. You’re still the most beautiful woman on Mustique.’
‘You flatterer, Dex.’
‘Let me get you a drink.’
‘That’s very kind.’ I take the bar stool next to his. ‘Espresso and some mineral water please. I can’t drink like the old days. I have to ration myself.’
‘Me too. No liquor until night-time, and most days none at all. But I still love the buzz in here on cocktail nights. I’m only here because a group of tourists are meeting me, before their diving trip.’
‘Do you still take them out yourself?’
‘Whenever I get the chance.’
‘Can I monopolise you, until they arrive? I’d love to hear what’s been happening in my absence.’
‘Glad to oblige, Lady Vee.’
Murder On Mustique Page 5
