‘Good, can’t chat now. See you, Joe.’
The report was worth waiting for. Horseman recognised the pudgy face and broad nose, the penetrating stare. The triad gangster’s official name Yo Wu Yee was almost the same as the one Shaddock knew him by—Charles Wu Yee. He came from South China from a family of seafaring petty criminals. He was the first in his family to complete high school, then entered a college to study business. But he began associating with gangs and dropped out to make more money as a full-time triad, learning on the job. His gang ran small shark-fishing boats and processed the fins. After a while they progressed to piracy, hijacking fins from competitors, then recruiting their victims until the triad dominated the shark-fin trade.
Yee moved up through the ranks. Clever, ruthless, a collector of antique jade scholar’s objects. Rumour spread he used legitimate licensed tuna longliners to transport drugs all over the South Pacific. Some drugs stayed in the islands to develop the local market, ensuring a supply of future workers. Most continued their journey to the lucrative markets of Australia and New Zealand. So far, solid evidence had eluded several police forces.
Horseman supposed Yee used the same model for prostitutes.
Singh hurried in, wished him a cheerful good morning and deposited her backpack on a chair. Horseman wondered why she never put it on her desk. Tidiness? She opened her umbrella, propping it underneath her desk to dry. He hadn’t noticed it was raining.
He waited until she’d organised her belongings. ‘The Interpol brief on Yee came in. He fits the frame for people smuggling, although Interpol doesn’t mention that. Maybe that’s something we’ll be able to help them with. Take a look.’
‘Thanks.’ She sat at his desk. He picked up his tea mug and she nodded, frowning.
When he returned with their tea, she was still frowning. ‘So is the roving company inspector really a roving pirate, of the worst kind?’
‘Could be running his own business on the side with or without the blessing of the fleet owners. Or the owners are triads and he’s a middle ranker, organising the smuggling for a number of vessels.’
‘Both Joy-13 and the brothels are barred to us. We can ask questions about the owners of Joy-13 though. Toby Shaddock would know. He gave up Yee’s identity. Do you think he’s on our side?’ Singh asked.
‘I couldn’t be certain. He’s committed to his clients. But he’s Fijian—that should count for something, shouldn’t it?’
Singh persisted. ‘The owners’ identity isn’t commercial-in-confidence, is it?’
‘I hope you’re right. Only one way to find out. I’ll give him a call now. The intelligence on Yee puts the captain in a different light, too. He could be scared of Yee.’
‘Yes, we thought the crew were terrified of Captain Shen, but that may not be the case at all. It could be Yee they’re afraid of.’ She was bubbling with excitement. ‘Oh, I forgot to tell you. I’m seeing Marisa at Fisheries to ask about Jimmy’s will and so on. I wanted to do that this morning, but she couldn’t see me until this afternoon.’
‘She’s probably in meetings all morning.’
‘I couldn’t stand it, could you?’
Horseman smiled at her shudder. ‘No.’
‘Could I take back the Fisheries property? You know, his reports, the safety gear and so on? She might feel grateful and less defensive.’
‘I doubt it. No, we need to hang onto that. We need evidence of murder, and you never know, some might be relevant.’
‘Okay, then I’ll apologise profusely for holding onto their property.’
Horseman thought some more. ‘Ask Marisa whether the camera and computer belong to Fisheries or Jimmy. The data Jimmy collected belongs to them and they’ll want that in due course. Don’t say anything about murder though. As far as Fisheries is concerned, we’re still investigating a mysterious accident.’
‘Understood.’
‘Where are Musudroka and Kau?’
She didn’t consult her notebook. ‘Kau’s on surveillance at the wharf. Tani was on last night, so he’s off duty now.’
‘The longer they’re missing, the more I’m worried about Santo and Filipo.’
‘I’ll try them again, check the surveillance logs too.’
He felt like talking to Shaddock straight away and was a bit put out when TTF reception told him that wasn’t possible and gave him an afternoon appointment.
He needed evidence of Joy-13’s whereabouts at the time of Jimmy’s murder. Surely Shaddock or the POSA staff had access to this data but he didn’t trust either of them enough. His lack of expertise left him vulnerable to deception and they all knew it.
Suddenly, an idea struck him. There was another resource he hadn’t considered—the Fiji Navy. He’d met Lieutenant Timoci Vodo at an inter-service meeting not long ago. He could trust a naval officer. He found Lt Vodo’s business card in his top drawer and called. The navy couldn’t be too busy repelling invaders, because the lieutenant invited Horseman to Walu Bay HQ this morning.
He paused at Singh’s desk, looking through the louvres at the rain while she talked on the phone. When she finished, he asked, ‘Any news?’
‘No, neither Santo nor Filipo were seen getting on or off Joy-13 in the last twenty-four hours. I’m still getting a phone-turned-off message when I call them.’
‘How would you like to come with me to Navy HQ for a lesson in navigation? It’s no good if I’m the only one who understands the instruments they use.’
‘Great, sir! Oh, I don’t have to go on a boat, do I?’
‘I don’t know. It depends where they keep their instruments. But I’m almost positive the boat will be stationary and well tied-up.’
She smiled, grabbed her umbrella and closed it. She took a small waterproof bag from her backpack and stuffed her notebook and pencil case inside. ‘Ready?’ she asked.
44
The naval base was just west of the Suva wharves, on the opposite side of the inlet of Walu Bay. Two grey, workmanlike vessels lay alongside the wharf.
A man about their own age was waiting on the veranda of the two-storey building behind the wharves. He came down the steps to shake hands.
‘Bula vinaka, Detective Inspector. I’m pleased to meet you again.’
‘Vinaka vakalevu, Lieutenant. It’s a pleasure, especially as I’ve come begging.’
‘I’m glad to help. I’m sure “improving inter-service relations” must be in a mission statement somewhere. Pleased to meet you too, Detective Sergeant Singh.’
‘Vinaka. What are these ships?’
‘You’re looking at our pride and joy, and two-thirds of our fleet. These are Pacific class patrol boats, designed and built in Australia for Pacific island countries’ needs. A most welcome gift. We have another based in Lautoka.’
‘How are they used?’ Singh asked.
‘Search and rescue, surveillance patrols, and everyone’s dream job, intercepting foreign vessels engaged in illegal fishing.’
Horseman couldn’t think of anything diplomatic to say—just three small boats.
Lt Vodo seemed to read his mind. ‘Clearly, not enough to patrol Fiji’s EEZ of 1,290,000 square kilometres. However, the modern instruments you want to know about turn a hopeless situation into something very different. Come inside and I’ll show you.’
A dozen men hunched over arrays of blinking screens in the surveillance room. They wore headphones and navy work uniforms. Lt Vodo stopped at one station. The man stood and saluted.
‘Carry on please, sailor. These police officers want to see the plotters. We’ll look over your shoulders,’ Lt Vodo said.
The sailor nodded and sat down again.
Lt Vodo continued. ‘This one is a ship plotter. All ships over 300 tons must carry an Automatic Identification System. The AIS broadcasts the ship’s identity, position, course, speed and destination so that other ships know where they are. Whether you’re at sea or in an office like us, you can see a map of all the ships sailing in the area.
Zoom out, please.’
Horseman and Singh leaned in and saw little coloured boat shapes pointing in different directions.
‘Fishing vessels are coded pink,’ Lt Vodo said.
When the sailor hovered over a pink ship, the screen displayed its name, vessel type and company line.
‘Switch to Ship mode now, please.’
The name of the ship they’d just seen on the map popped up, together with its destination, ETA, latitude, longitude, course, speed and vessel dimensions.
‘Worth its weight in gold to you, I imagine,’ Horseman said.
Lt Vodo grinned. ‘Io, that’s why we’re at work in here and not aimlessly patrolling. When we spot something suspicious, or a ship in distress, we can contact them by radio and find out what’s going on.’
‘And if the ship doesn’t respond to your radio call?’
‘Then we’ll go say bula and assess what we find.’
‘Suppose it’s a clear case of illegal fishing, what happens next?’
‘We need to board to be sure what they’re up to. We secure their logbooks, GPS plotters and fish so they can’t ditch evidence overboard. After that, we escort them to port and hand over to Fisheries inspectors. The vessel owners are prosecuted and cop a heavy fine.’
‘Do they pay it?’ asked Singh.
Lt Vodo laughed. ‘That I don’t know, Sergeant. I hope so.’
‘If they’re foreigners fishing illegally, why would they care about a fine? What can any authority hold over them?’
Lt Vodo looked unhappy. ‘I suppose you’ve got a point. The Australians are harsher—they often confiscate the illegal vessels.’
Singh nodded in approval. ‘Good on them. That’s a sanction even a pirate might want to avoid. Why don’t we do that?’
‘That’s not my province, Sergeant. Fiji is a partner in several regional fisheries management treaties and of course has ratified the Law of the Sea Convention.’
‘I bet Australia’s joined up to all of those too. Anyway, sorry, it’s not your fault. I’m just learning about all this and it makes me mad to think pirates can avoid all these laws. I wouldn’t pay the fine if I was a pirate and could just sail away.’
Horseman looked at Lt Vodo and laughed out loud. ‘You’d be a tough pirate, Singh. Please don’t consider a change of career. You do much better as a tough detective.’ She looked delighted.
‘What range does the ship plotter have?’ Horseman asked.
‘Up to twenty nautical miles at sea level. Our patrol boats have these, of course.’
‘Do longliners have them?’
‘It depends. The big industrial longliners certainly do. But vessels under 300 tons aren’t required to even have AIS transponders, so we can’t see what most of them are up to. That’s where VMS comes in.’
VMS was an acronym Horseman recognised. ‘I think the assistant harbourmaster mentioned that. Words of one syllable please.’
‘Io, POSA has access. VMS, that’s Vessel Monitoring System, is compulsory for fishing vessels over twelve metres. Vessels can’t turn it off because its purpose is to increase compliance with fishing regulations. Satellites transmit vessels’ positions to receiving stations on land every two hours.’
‘Who gets that data?’
‘The port and fisheries authorities. We have our own receiving station here.’
‘You what? Do you mean you can find out Joy-13’s route on Friday 8th September?’
‘I can.’ Lt Vodo looked puzzled. ‘I thought you’d get it from Fisheries.’
Astonished, Horseman looked at Singh then jotted in his notebook.
‘Fisheries didn’t tell me about VMS. I guess it’s not their fault—I didn’t know what questions to ask.’
‘Give me all the details before you go and I’ll request the data for you—it’s called a VMS track, by the way.’
‘Wonderful. Our case hinges on this VMS track.’
‘I’m sorry, but it’ll go in a queue. But you should have what you need within twenty-four hours.’
‘Vinaka vakalevu, Lieutenant.’
‘Timo, please.’
‘Call me Joe.’ He was aware he was grinning like an idiot. But he was also beating himself up because his ignorance had needlessly held up the case.
‘Have you any more questions?’
‘What’s the difference between the AIS ship plotter you showed us and a chart plotter?’
‘Over here.’
Lt Vodo led them to a workbench against a wall. He pulled up stools and they sat in front of a small box with a screen at the front and control switches beside it, like a little old-fashioned television set.
‘Every fishing boat that works beyond the territorial limit would have one of these. GPS has revolutionised safety at sea. They’re getting less expensive all the time, too. It receives GPS satellite signals and overlays the information on a map, so the skipper knows his precise position any moment he cares to look.’
Horseman thought of Fireti Kaba, who fished up Jimmy Inia’s head. He’d mentioned his GPS.
‘Who sees this information?’
‘Only the vessel’s skipper or crew. Routes can be saved and fed into automatic pilots.’
‘So, the chart plotter records where a vessel has been?’
‘Sure, we seize them for evidence when we intercept an illegal vessel.’
‘Good, I’m getting the picture now. How does this all fit in with the Port’s surveillance?’
Lt Vodo looked surprised. ‘Oh, they have their own ship plotting equipment with all the bells and whistles. Have you been to their control tower?’
‘Io, I have, but I didn’t understand what I was seeing. When I asked for information on Joy-13’s voyage, the assistant harbourmaster said he didn’t have it. I guess I didn’t know the correct jargon.’
‘Sounds like he was fobbing you off. Of course he would’ve known what you wanted.’ Lt Vodo looked perturbed.
Horseman was relieved to have his suspicions supported by the naval officer.
‘Timo, do you have any handbooks for these instruments we could refer to?’
‘Sure, I’ll email some things to you. No trouble. And I’ll fill in the form to access the VMS track. Sit here and give me the details.’ He selected an online form on a computer and together they filled it in.
‘We won’t take up any more of your time. Vinaka vakalevu, Timo.’
‘I’m pleased to help. Any question at all. Call me anytime. Moce.’
As they went down the steps the rain became a deluge.
45
Marisa, the coordinator of FOP, greeted Singh with a wary smile. She was right to be wary, for on their last visit she’d as good as admitted that she knew little about where her observers were and how they fared. Singh agreed with the boss’s view that FOP’s care of its employees—well, contractors, was not good enough.
‘I’m here this time on behalf of Jimmy Inia’s parents, Marisa. I was the one who broke the news to them, just as soon as we found out the recovered body parts were Jimmy’s. I’ll never forget that afternoon. You’ll understand how at first they couldn’t bring themselves to believe the evidence. When they did, they entrusted me to return Jimmy’s few possessions to them. I promised them I would do that personally. I’m sure you’ve spoken to Jimmy’s parents since.’
Marisa’s face froze but her eyes filled with tears. Singh hoped they were tears of shame.
‘No? Well, when you do, you can check their instructions to me.’ She couldn’t help rubbing Marisa’s face in her mess.
‘We have retrieved some of Jimmy’s possessions, but some personal items are missing, including his wallet, bank cards and mobile phone. I realised that he couldn’t use any of these things on board Joy-13 unless the ship called at a port during the voyage. I wondered if observers left items like this with FOP for safekeeping when they’re away.’
‘Not routinely, but it’s possible, I guess.’ Marisa was guarded, her first priority to protect herse
lf from blame, from the responsibility she was paid well to take.
‘I would appreciate you checking that.’
Marisa stared as if mesmerised, then snapped back to the moment. ‘Yes, I’ll do that now.’ She swivelled to her side table and made a muttered phone call. She turned back to Singh. ‘Jimmy’s placement officer is following up your request now.’
‘As the work of observers is so risky, I wondered if you require them to file legal wills?’
Again, Marisa stared for a few beats, before a wide smile cracked her face. ‘Yes! I should have thought—why didn’t I? I know that perfectly well. We do! Honestly, Jimmy’s death, when we learned that his head and hand—well. It was such a shock to us all here. Traumatising, actually. I pray for his family.’
What a shame Marisa was too traumatised to do her job, to respect Jimmy’s parents. Singh had no sympathy for any FOP staff.
‘His family need his will to carry out his wishes. Does the coroner need it for the inquest?’
‘I don’t know. I will look into that. This has never happened to us before, so there’s not quite an agreed procedure in place…’
‘I assume there is an insurance policy to compensate employees, sorry, contractors, who die at work?’
‘Well, certainly for employees, I’m not certain about fishing observers.’
‘What about his salary or whatever you call it here, his other entitlements, expenses and so forth. Have they been paid?’
‘You’ll really need to speak to Human Resources about all of that.’
‘I’m a police officer. I’m asking you as Jimmy’s program coordinator, to give me any possessions of his, a certified copy of his will, and information about the money he’s entitled to and when it will be paid. I don’t want to be rude, but you have known he’s been dead for ten days. Surely I don’t need a search warrant to get a government department to cooperate with the police and the parents of their dead employee?’
Marisa seemed to pull herself together at this. ‘Of course. Would you like to come back in say, around two hours?’
‘No, I have another appointment later. I’ll wait here, thank you.’
Death Beyond the Limit: Fiji Islands Mysteries 3 Page 20
