Death Beyond the Limit: Fiji Islands Mysteries 3

by B. M. Allsopp

Shaddock shrugged. ‘Maybe he didn’t arrive on Joy-13. He could have flown into Nadi or Suva to board the ship here. Or he could be boarding another ship. The company doesn’t inform TTF about his movements.’

  Of course not. The company had every reason to keep them secret.

  ‘Vinaka vakalevu. Of course, that makes sense. I’m on a steep learning curve with the fishing industry, and grateful for your help.’

  ‘No problem. I guess we are a world unto ourselves.’

  ‘As are the police, so I understand. Vinaka again.’

  *

  He snatched the phone from his pocket the moment he got to the foyer.

  ‘Sir? I was talking to Shaddock at TTF. Sorry.’

  ‘Fine, fine. The news isn’t good, I’m afraid. But it could be worse.’

  ‘What is it, sir? I’ll be at the station in ten minutes, but if you could give me the gist now…’

  ‘Io, Joe. The Chinese will send a team to conduct their own investigation. We’ll be informed when they will arrive. Our cooperation will be appreciated. The Chinese detectives will conduct a search of Joy-13, so there is no need to pursue the search warrants we’ve applied for. Non-negotiable. The Commish has tried, but that’s that.’

  ‘I take it the ambassador claimed China’s flag state jurisdiction was total?’

  ‘Io, in a nutshell. As the representative of a totalitarian state, I guess that’s his modus operandi.’ The super sounded calm but grim.

  Although he knew this was on the cards, his heart thudded against his ribcage. ‘How could it be worse?’

  ‘There was no mention of the Fiji police closing our Jona case. The ambassador probably just forgot that. Our Commish is so annoyed at hosting Chinese police in Suva that you can bet he’ll support anything you want to do.’

  ‘Apart from board Joy-13.’

  ‘Apart from that. His hands are tied. The Chinese regard Joy-13 as Chinese soil. No entry except by invitation.’

  ‘Okay, so it’s business as usual?’

  ‘Io, Joe, business as usual. Telephone me if you need anything more.’

  ‘Vinaka, sir. See you on Monday.’

  36

  It was to be Pizza Perfecta tonight, so Singh decided on her newish jeans and a yellow check shirt. She fumbled the buttons, looked down and saw her fingers trembling. What was this? Surely she was no longer anxious about meeting Brij? That had passed after the first two dates. She’d enjoyed their meals together since then, even looked forward to them. But this evening she felt different. For one thing, she was getting ready absurdly early instead of running late. This was partly due to the interviews finishing early. Two crewmen identified the engineer and the captain from their photos, but none of the three admitted knowing Mr X. It would have been good if one of them had confirmed the name Shaddock had given the boss. Still, Shaddock’s story was plausible and she would get Immigration to check Charles Wu Yee’s movements first thing on Monday.

  She brushed her hair out and debated whether to put on her orange sneakers or gold sandals. As she had time to fill she’d walk from the police barracks down the hill and the full length of Victoria Parade to the pizza place near the cinemas. Orange sneakers, then.

  Walking did help her marshal her thoughts. She tried to stay positive about the case, but the truth was she was out of her depth in the maze of jurisdictional debate that the boss had explained to her this afternoon. Her pride in her competence had no foundation, she realised. Away from these tiny islands, mere specks in the vast Pacific Ocean, she floundered. A mere twelve nautical miles offshore, the police force which she served with unswerving loyalty was powerless, unless it suited a foreign country to make use of their services. She needed to study more law.

  Her indignation about the lawless high seas distracted her from delving deeper into her feelings about Brij. As she passed through Ratu Sukuna Park, dusk fell. The shrieking of the Indian mynahs in the fig trees blasted thought from her mind.

  But a block away from her destination her stomach fluttered. Deep breaths did not calm her. Could she be falling in love? The romance novels she’d read as a teenager were her only evidence for this diagnosis, not any experience. She reached for the door. Lucky the doorman inside swept it open, for her hand trembled.

  She was glad Brij wasn’t there—it was her turn to be the first to arrive. But a pang of fear caught her breath—what if he had tired of her? She dismissed the idea as nonsense, she was ten minutes early. She willed herself to study the menu, then the blackboard specials. She resolved to choose two pizzas for them both—new pizzas she’d never tried before.

  When he sailed in, smart in designer jeans and bright bula shirt, relief flooded her.

  ‘What’s made you look so happy, Susie?’

  She felt her cheeks blush. ‘You. I thought maybe you weren’t coming.’ Instantly she regretted blurting without thinking first.

  Brij looked at his watch and smiled at her. ‘I’m seven minutes early,’ he protested, amused.

  ‘You’ve always been the first to arrive. It’s a new experience for me to be so early, I guess.’

  Brij lifted his arched brows. ‘What’s happened? You’re always so cool, calm and collected.’

  ‘I don’t know—nothing really. I’ve spent my time wisely, though. I’d like to try something new. How about Positano—that’s tiger prawns, fresh sliced tomato, ricotta, chilli and fresh mint?’

  ‘Mm, sophisticated you! I’ll give it a go. Can I choose the other?’

  ‘Only if it’s Pumpkin Gorgonzola.’

  ‘Not sure if I’m up for that.’

  ‘It comes with pine nuts, garlic, caramelised onion and sage.’

  ‘No, Susie. I’ll have to put my foot down. Let me see. I’m a man of plain tastes, as you know.’ He scrutinised the menu. ‘Salsiccia: Italian sausage, bocconcini and fresh basil. Willing to share that?’

  ‘You bet. The two make a good balance.’

  ‘Like us, I’m thinking more and more.’

  She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Almost written off as too old to marry, yet she couldn’t control her blushes any better than a fourteen-year-old.

  ‘Don’t be embarrassed, Susie. Don’t ignore the elephant in the room. Admit it, we hit it off, don’t we? I admire everything about you, even your reticence about personal relationships. No, really, I like that too. You’re beautiful, clever and kind. What’s not to like? Now, it’s entirely understandable if you don’t feel the same way…’

  ‘No, Brij, I do. Like you, I mean. I’ve been so looking forward to our date. It’s just that we’ve only known each other two weeks, so… I mean, we’re both pleasant company for a good meal in a restaurant, but living together our whole lives…’ The heat rose again.

  He reached his hand across the table. Singh was clenching hers on her knees.

  ‘Don’t look scared, Susie. I’m pretty sure our parents didn’t even see each other before their marriages. Not that I recommend that. Far from it. Imagine how scared they must have been.’

  ‘Especially our mothers. They were just young girls.’

  ‘Our fathers not much older. I bet they were equally terrified. But we don’t need to be. We’re friends, aren’t we?’

  She felt herself relax and grinned. ‘Sure, but it’s not the same as…’

  He waved his hand from side to side. ‘Please, don’t quote Hollywood and Bollywood at me. Ma says movies are responsible for most unhappy marriages. She says love grows as long as there’s kindness on both sides and a spirit of give-and-take. We surely meet those two conditions, don’t we?’

  Singh sighed. ‘Yes, we do. But Brij, this isn’t a proposal, is it?’

  Brij laughed out loud. ‘Don’t look so alarmed. No, it isn’t, but it sounds like I’m getting close, doesn’t it? I surprise myself as well as you.’

  She laughed with him as the waiter put their pizzas and beers on the table. The cheesy garlic aroma blended with the sharp sausage to make her salivate, but her stomach was now c
alm. They turned their attention to the food, eating and drinking in companionable silence.

  Brij spoke up first. ‘How was your day at work? Tense, I guess, judging from your mood when I got here.’

  ‘Yes, it was. Frustrating. The case is getting mixed up in diplomatic problems.’

  ‘The Jona case? Oh yes, what are they?’

  ‘Brij, did you know that the force’s jurisdiction over crimes at sea against Fiji citizens isn’t clear? It can be disputed by the country a vessel is registered with.’

  ‘Well, sort of, not that it’s my area. What’s happened?’

  His eyes, so relaxed a moment before, were now alert. It would be easy to confide everything, use him as a sounding board, clarify her confusion. But no, she shouldn’t have mentioned anything. She had no idea who his friends were. He possibly knew journalists. Kicking herself furiously, she hoped she hadn’t gone too far. Brij was far from stupid, and there were bound to be Jona rumours flying around legal circles. She’d said enough for him to pass on useful information to the media or to their opponents. If he wanted to. She tried to hide her alarm.

  She smiled. ‘You know I can’t talk about ongoing cases, just like you. It’s just a hypothetical legal principle I’ve never brushed up against before. I was surprised. Interesting, though, don’t you think?’

  Their conversation flagged as they polished off the last of the pizza. ‘Susie, I’m amazed at how you remain so slim when you have such a, shall we say, robust appetite.’

  ‘Look who’s talking! I was most ladylike and let you have the lion’s share. You know, my long hours the past two weeks are catching up with me. I feel so dozy after the pizza I’d better take a cab straight home to bed.’

  ‘I understand. I feel the same way. But let me drive you.’

  ‘I won’t say no. You’re right. I probably ate too much.’ She’d said too much, which was much, much worse.

  SUNDAY 24th September

  37

  Musudroka and Kau raced up the stairs to the CID floor. Horseman was amused they couldn’t wait to report on their night roaming the city’s seedier bars and so-called clubs.

  ‘Sir, I’ve just seen Santo at church. Outside the Catholic cathedral, sir.’

  ‘Start at the beginning, Tani. Sit down, both of you and tell me about last night.’

  They frowned at each other but did as he commanded. Horseman was aware old school officers thought he was too lax with the young detectives, letting them get away with light-hearted banter that could be seen as lacking in respect. He didn’t see any purpose in being strict for the sake of tradition and didn’t want to dampen their enthusiasm or initiative. But they had to learn to start their reports at the beginning.

  ‘Sir, we had a drink in each of the bars on the list we agreed on with you. We ordered coke or juice as you said, though that’s actually hard to come by. Barmen got suspicious, so we ended up getting beers just to avoid being thrown out.’

  ‘But we never finished them, sir,’ earnest Kau assured him.

  ‘Good idea.’

  Musudroka continued. ‘We came across some of the Joy-13 crew, but not as many as I expected to. Some were getting plastered. On the whole, they didn’t want to drink with us.’

  ‘What was your impression, Kau?’

  ‘Same, sir. The language barrier makes it hard, but it was more than that. We were friendly, offered to take them to other places we knew, but they weren’t interested. We gave up around two in the morning. By that time the few still drinking were under the table, but just as tight-lipped as if the captain was watching them. They seem an unhappy lot. I guess they miss home.’

  ‘Well done. You followed instructions, you persisted, you drew appropriate conclusions as far as I can tell. A negative result is not a failure. We’ve crossed off a potential source of information.’ Both DCs brightened at his praise.

  ‘Those places are dire, sir. Worse than I thought. Dirty, smelly, toilets stank—the drinks were only a bit less expensive than in a decent bar. Why do they go there?’ Musudroka asked.

  ‘Well, there were drugs, I reckon, although they knew who we were, so they kept that hidden. Prostitutes hanging around,’ Kau reminded him. ‘They were out of it, on drugs or drunk, or both.’

  ‘Fijian girls, were they?’ Horseman asked.

  ‘Mostly Asian-looking, now you ask.’

  ‘Yep, must be what the Asian seamen want,’ Kau said with a shrug.

  ‘Were they talking to any Joy-13 crew? As if they knew them, I mean.’

  Musudroka pondered for a bit. ‘Hard to say. Not one of those guys impressed me as a conversationalist. The girls probably found them as hard-going as we did.’ He laughed.

  ‘Right, Detective Constables. Now you can tell me what happened this morning to get you so excited.’

  ‘At last!’ Musudroka said.

  ‘Musudroka, try that again.’

  ‘Sorry, sir. I went to nine o’clock mass at the cathedral. I was early so I hung about with others waiting for the eight o’clock congregation to come out. I saw Santo, the engineer. He wasn’t in any of the places we went to last night, by the way. But he was agitated, fidgety, pacing up and down. I wondered if he’d been on drugs last night. So, I went up to him and said bula, said I was going to mass too. He stared at me, all anxious, started muttering. All I could make out was “confess, gotta confess” a few times he said that. Then about how he can’t go to mass until he’s confessed. Though his speech wasn’t real clear, sir.’

  ‘Interesting, Tani. What then?’

  ‘I was shocked, sir. I reckoned he was admitting he had something to do with Jimmy Inia’s death. So, I was real sympathetic, explained that he could come to the station with me and we’d see you and he could confess. I said you’d be understanding, sir, and wouldn’t hurt him.’

  ‘You handled that shock well. And then?’

  ‘Santo got upset, annoyed too. He said he meant confessing his sin to a priest, nothing to do with the police. My wrong assumption, sir. I told him that he’d find a priest if he went to the office behind the church. Then he stalked off, like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.’

  ‘What do you think that means?’

  ‘I don’t know. He told me I got it wrong.’

  Kau said, ‘One thing it means is that he’s a Catholic and it’s important to him to go to mass. I suppose on the longliners he can’t get to church for months at a time. He must miss church.’

  ‘Good thinking, Kau. that gives us insight into Santo’s character.’

  ‘Maybe I didn’t misunderstand him,’ Musudroka protested. ‘Maybe he was just covering up when I offered to take him to the station. We don’t know for sure.’

  ‘Correct, Tani. We know nothing for sure. Much as I hate to pry into anyone’s religious life, we’ll have to try to find out what sin he feels burdened with. Getting drunk, taking drugs, visiting a brothel—it could be any of those. You’re the only Catholic among us, Tani, what do you think?’

  ‘Catholics don’t consider getting drunk a sin, sir. Drugs or prostitutes, definitely.’

  Horseman got up from his desk. ‘And it could be something he did on Joy-13, too. In which case, we have to find out. I’ll go and look around the cathedral. You two, get yourselves a cup of tea, get your notebooks and diaries up to date and write your reports. You’ve done well.’

  On his way out, he smiled at the usual Sunday morning gaggle of hungover men fronting the public counter. The night before was now a blur in their memories. They clung to the slight chance that their wallets, phones, or bank cards had been found by honest citizens who had lost no time in handing them in. They would hang around the station for hours rather than tell their wives they had lost their lifeline. Or admit it to themselves.

  The desk sergeant waved him over as he flipped up the counter exit and passed through. ‘Bula, Inspector Horseman! You might want to take a look at this.’

  Horseman went up to the public side of the counter. Bula, serg
eant. ‘What have you got?’

  ‘Taxi driver just handed this in.’ He showed a scuffed passport. ‘Honest guy, eh. Left in his cab, of course. He thinks the passengers could have been crew off the Chinese fishing boats. It’s a Philippines passport.’

  Horseman flicked the passport open. Filipo Moreno, the senior deckhand, he recalled. ‘You’re alert for a Sunday morning, sergeant. I’ve got to rush off now, but please bag it and send it upstairs. Just leave it on my desk.’

  ‘Io, sir. Glad to be of help.’

  *

  Santo was nowhere to be seen near the cathedral or any of the few cafés or holes-in-the-wall in the vicinity. Horseman rang his mobile again and again in vain.

  By the time he’d eaten the roti he bought from a street vendor and returned to the station, Musudroka and Kau had disappeared, leaving their completed reports on his desk. He looked up Filipo’s number but got a message that the mobile was turned off.

  He was at an impasse. He should be working on several lines of enquiry but he couldn’t take the next step on any of them until he got responses from others. Familiar, but exasperating all the same.

  He hadn’t yet had a response from his official Interpol request, and his rugby mate in their Hong Kong office was still silent. But he could now send Interpol the name for Mr X, identified by Shaddock as Charles Wu Yee. He submitted another official request, adding Yee’s name to his photo, and shot off an email alerting his Hong Kong mate. Naturally, it would be fruitless to ask Immigration to check anything on a Sunday. That must wait until tomorrow. Yee may well have entered Fiji by air, as Shaddock suggested. He’d ask Immigration to check back for two weeks.

  He made tea, brought it back to his desk and examined Filipo Moreno’s passport. Nothing out of order that he could see. Filipo was probably sleeping off the excesses of Saturday night.

  The diligent sergeant had included in the evidence bag the form he’d filled in with the taxi driver’s information. That was something, he could talk to the driver. He was even more pleased to discover that he was acquainted with the driver: Livai Yayawa, formerly a corporal in the Fiji Infantry Regiment, a veteran of United Nations peace-keeping missions in Kosovo and Lebanon. Filipo was lucky to have dropped his passport in Livai’s cab. He called Livai.