South Pacific Affair

by Drew Lindsay

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Hannam. ‘I don’t know where that is?’

  ‘The capital city of Tongatapu in the South Pacific.’

  ‘Tonga?’

  Sophia nodded her head.

  ‘Perhaps we had better have a chat,’ said Hannam. ‘Perhaps tomorrow. I can understand how much of a shock this is.’

  ‘Will a chat help you find who murdered him?’ asked Sophia.

  ‘Do you think someone murdered your husband Mrs. Hunter?’

  ‘Of course he was murdered,’ said Sophia as she walked out of the viewing room. ‘Tortured and murdered. You’re a damn police detective and you can’t work that out? My husband doesn’t go swimming in muddy creeks in a horrible place like Clyde. He has Elizabeth Bay at his doorstep as well as a bloody heated pool on the deck.’

  ‘Point taken,’ said Hannam as he followed her. He already knew that Joseph Hunter had been murdered. The green garbage bag tied over his head was a fair indication that the deceased had not just gone swimming in Duck Creek. Apart from that, no one went swimming in Duck Creek. It was a dirty cesspool.

  Two days later, Sophia had not answered phone calls or opened the door to her Elizabeth Bay mansion. Ann Flynn had keys and let herself into the house. Ann was Sophia’s number one clothing model and a trusted friend. She was part Aboriginal, 25 years old with a stunning body and a fiery temper. Ann was the only employee Sophia trusted with a set of keys to her house and the code for her alarm. The alarm wasn’t on as Ann walked through the exquisitely tiled entrance hall. Ann brushed back long strands of jet black hair and called to Sophia. There was no response. She moved slowly through the vast lower floor of the house and outside entertainment areas and then walked slowly up the elegant winding stairway to the first floor.

  Sophia was lying on her back on a huge king bed in the master bedroom. Her eyes were open and she was conscious. She had vomited, urinated and defecated on the silk sheets. The room reeked of bodily stench. Ann remembered this smell from her childhood. Memories flooded back but she walked to the bed and looked down at her friend. ‘Are you dead?’

  Sophia’s hazel eyes moved slowly to look up at the girl standing over her. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

  ‘What the hell have you done?’ asked Ann.

  Sophia closed her eyes. ‘I had some drinks and pills I think.’

  Ann called for an ambulance.

  “****”

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘What am I to do with you?’ exclaimed Sophia’s mother. Lila Ben Asher paced the hospital room. At 55 years of age she was still a very attractive woman with pure white skin and a body which many 30 year olds would kill to have. ‘You get tangled up with a husband and drugs or something?’

  ‘Shut up mother. Joseph wasn’t into drugs.’

  Lila spoke with a perfect London English accent despite having been married to a Jewish millionaire for many years prior to him being blown up in a nasty incident. She had considered reverting back to her maiden name of Askew, but felt the name too boring and less exotic than Ben Asher. That name also kept her connected firmly with her inherited estate which was more extensive than she had originally realised.

  ‘He had investments in Tonga so you have told me,’ said Lila. ‘Was he trading in grass skirts or something?’

  ‘You know absolutely nothing about Tonga so keep quiet.’

  ‘So who killed him? Did a Tongan mobster travel to Australia and drown him in a dirty creek in Western Sydney? Was he ripping someone off over the price of grass skirts?’

  ‘I don’t think they have mobsters in Tonga mother.’

  ‘They have mobsters everywhere. They’re a dime a dozen.’

  ‘You watch too much American TV.’

  ‘I love American TV. The UK TV has gone to the dogs.’

  ‘What about the Antique Road Show?’

  ‘The only exception,’ Lila snorted. She fished through her grey leather handbag and plucked out a white lace handkerchief, dabbing it gently at her brow. ‘So what is being done about this horrible mess?’

  ‘The police are trying to find the killer,’ said Sophia.

  ‘And what in God’s name are you doing in hospital?’

  ‘I fell into depression,’ said Sophia.

  Lila sat back in her chair and dabbed once more at her forehead. ‘My darling…I’ve lived with depression most of my damn life.’

  ‘Well now it’s my turn,’ said Sophia. She pulled the oxygen tubes out of her nose and pushed them to the side of the bed. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘Ann called me. She’s waiting outside.’

  ‘Then you can leave and ask Ann to come in.’

  ‘Fine way to treat your mother is all I can say.’

  ‘I love you too mother.’

  Lila pushed her lace handkerchief into the leather bag, got to her feet and left the room without a word.

  Ann sat down beside the hospital bed. She looked at Sophia with large brown eyes. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Thanks for saving my arse honey.’

  ‘You would have picked up the phone eventually,’ said Ann.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  Ann fidgeted with the handles of her oversize handbag. ‘So what have the police said about Joe?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘So someone killed him for nothing?’

  ‘I need a cigarette.’

  ‘You gave up 5 years ago,’ said Ann.’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘I knew. If you don’t smoke, you can always smell someone who smokes.’

  Sophia turned her face to the window. ‘I hate it here. I need to get out.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Ann.

  ‘Find out why my husband was killed.’ She looked at Ann. ‘The cops don’t have a clue. They think it has something to do with his regular visits to Tonga, but they can’t find anything.’

  ‘Do we need outside assistance?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Sophia.

  ‘Private Investigation?’

  ‘They’re all crook. I wouldn’t trust a private investigator as far as I could spit him.’

  Ann sat back and crossed her long, slender legs. ‘Do you remember Milba Berry?’

  Sophia pushed her arms up behind her head. ‘You must be joking. I would have paid that bitch thousands for just one photo in my outfits.’

  ‘Aboriginal bitch you mean.’

  ‘Whatever. You’re Aboriginal and I treat you like a sister.’

  Ann didn’t reply immediately.

  ‘You know what I mean,’ said Sophia.

  ‘Aren’t we all the same?’ asked Ann, her voice soft and calm.

  ‘Of course we are…sort of.’

  ‘Milba Berry is worth a lot more than you because of her movie star status, said Ann casually.

  ‘Good luck to her,’ said Sophia. ‘Why are you teasing me with this Milba Berry nonsense?’

  ‘I know her fairly well,’ said Ann.

  ‘You never told me this before. I needed her body in one of my outfits for God’s sake!’

  ‘She doesn’t work like that and I wouldn’t have asked her,’ said Ann.

  Sophia was now more alert than she had been since admitted to hospital. ‘So why mention her now?’

  ‘She knows someone who is an excellent investigator.’

  ‘Police?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Sherlock Holmes?’

  ‘No; much taller and very good looking. Sherlock Holmes is dead anyway.’

  ‘Ex copper?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ann.

  ‘Probably a dead beat with a wrinkled suit.’

  ‘He never wears a suit,’ said Ann.

  ‘And he knows Milba?’

  ‘Milba loves him.’

  ‘Jesus…’

  ‘He saved her arse big time once,’ said Ann.

  Sophia didn’t respond. She looked back at the window. The grime had built up on the glass over a long time and had never been clean
ed. All she could see was the sky…and the grime.

  ‘Should I contact him?’ asked Ann cautiously.

  ‘No. Get your arse out to that desk where people who call themselves doctors and nurses sit and play silly buggers, and get me released!’

  Ann stood. ‘Would you like fries with that order ma’am?’

  “****”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Kingdom of Tonga has been that way since it was created around 950 years after the birth of Christ. Tu’I Tonga were rulers of the Kingdom till 1470. Tu’I Ha’atakalaua kings ruled until AD 1600 followed by Tu’I Kanokupolu kings who have ruled to the present day. Tonga is the only sovereign indigenous monarchy to have survived the numerous takeovers of islands in the South Pacific.

  His current Majesty was very concerned. He sat at a long timber table with two of his most entrusted advisors. All had been dressed in formal western suits because of a previous media engagement. Now their ties were removed and the top button of their shirts, undone.

  ‘An informant brings me news of the death of Joseph Hunter,’ said the king.

  ‘Yes,’ said the younger man at the king’s left.

  ‘Mr. Hunter was about to return what had been gifted to King Taufa’ahau Tupou IV many years ago.’

  ‘At a price,’ said the older Tongan man seated to the king’s right. ‘The Queen of England may have been concerned at such an arrangement.’

  ‘The Queen would have been delighted that something of great value had been returned to us,’ said the man on the King’s left.

  ‘I am more concerned in catching the person who stole the necklace from the royal palace,’ said the King. ‘I suspect that Hunter was involved but with him dead…’ his voice trailed off.

  ‘The Police Commissioner has given the matter his most diligent attention,’ said the man on his right. ‘He and his people have been most attentive to the issue. The theft itself was significant enough but a clear breach of the palace security was even more concerning.’

  The Tongan king was a tall solid man with short cropped black hair and rounded face with light brown skin. He was known for his smiles and good natured humour. He wasn’t smiling today. He rose from his chair and walked slowly to the far end of the large timber lined room. ‘Is it likely that Joseph Hunter had already brought the necklace to Tonga? I understand he recently spent a considerable amount of time holidaying on Fa Fa Island.’

  The two men who remained seated at the table both nodded.

  ‘He had a business associate in Nuku’Alofa?’ asked the King.

  ‘Yes sir,’ said the younger man. ‘He seemed to have legitimate trade with Feye Langi. Langi supplied local handmade items to Hunter and Hunter provided a special line of gifts and clothing to Langi.’

  ‘I thought Langi leased chemist shops,’ said the king.

  ‘Yes, said the younger man. He has expanded his two chemist shops to offer gifts and clothing as well. Hunter’s wife designs and provides the clothing.’

  ‘And the girl?’

  ‘Loa Tei is being watched,’ said the older man. ‘She works for Feye Langi at one of his chemist shops. It is rumoured that she met with Hunter on Fa Fa Island. Considering that Hunter had his wife with him on this occasion, we can only speculate as to the circumstances and purpose of the meeting.’

  ‘Is the Police Commissioner aware of all relevant information?’

  ‘Most of it,’ said the younger man. ‘Exact details of the exchange were kept from him for the time being. We weren’t sure exactly what Hunter was going to do and there is the issue of the white diamond which we can see from photos sent to us by Hunter, now forms part of the necklace.’

  The king nodded as he walked back to his chair and sat down. He clasped his hands together on the ancient table. ‘The diamond does not belong to us. It is worth a thousand times more than the necklace if your advice is correct. It rightfully belongs to the Queen of England.’

  ‘The diamond is now part of the necklace,’ said the older man as he removed a pair of black rimmed glasses. ‘It would seem that Mr. Hunter had no idea that the diamond which has now been incorporated into the necklace is likely to be part of the English Crown Jewels which were ordered to be dismantled and either sold or melted down by Oliver Cromwell after he executed King Charles 1 in 1649. The Queen gave your father a very expensive and generous present in the form of the necklace. He treasured it greatly. It is worth nothing compared to that white diamond.’

  The king shook his head and rubbed his eyes with the palms of both hands. He blinked several times and sat back in the huge timber chair. ‘Are we sure about the origin of the diamond?’

  The older man put his glasses on and flicked open a folder in front of him. ‘Please forgive me Your Highness.’

  ‘You have already been forgiven for not bringing your suspicions to me as soon as you became aware of the diamond being added to the necklace.’

  ‘I felt you would have noticed Your Highness.’

  ‘I don’t wear the necklace,’ said the King. ‘My father wore the necklace only once or twice on very special occasions. He wasn’t all that impressed with jewellery.’

  ‘It was stolen almost 2 years ago,’ said the younger man. ‘The thief gave it to someone who added the white diamond.’

  ‘Are they all idiots?’ asked the King. ‘Had they no idea what that diamond was worth and its origins?’

  ‘I would suspect that the person who added the diamond to the necklace would have known,’ said the older man. ‘The diamond complimented the necklace perfectly but it would have rendered the entire object almost impossible to value or to sell. There is much we don’t understand about this.’

  ‘How can you be so sure of the origin of the diamond?’

  ‘I sent Hunter’s photographs to a Regalia expert in London. This man was prepared to immediately involve Scotland Yard Detectives. I told him that it was likely if he reported the matter to the authorities or the Queen, that any attempt to recover the diamond would be lost.’

  The king folded his arms. ‘This could become quite a mess. It is already quite a mess.’

  ‘Yes sir,’ said the older man.

  ‘As if we haven’t got enough problems to deal with.’

  ‘We must proceed carefully,’ said the older man. ‘There is little doubt that Hunter was murdered because of the necklace and the diamond. If the person who killed him now has the necklace it’s likely we’ll never see it again.’

  ‘Perhaps Mr. Hunter put the necklace somewhere secure,’ said the King. ‘Perhaps his killer didn’t get it.’

  ‘We can only hope and pray,’ said the older man.

  ‘Perhaps Mrs. Hunter has the necklace,’ said the king.

  ‘Or it is already in Tonga somewhere as you suggest,’ said the younger man.

  The king unfolded his arms and drummed his fingers on the heavy table top. ‘This is no longer a matter for us to speak about in secret. We must involve the Commissioner of Police with every detail.’

  ‘It is your decision sir,’ said the older man.

  ‘Set up a meeting for tomorrow at his convenience.’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  ‘Commissioner Hill is to come alone.’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  ‘We must make every effort to recover the necklace,’ said the king. ‘Diplomatic relationships with the Queen of England are of utmost importance and my brother, Tupou V and especially our beloved father would have been in total agreement.’

  Both men seated on either side of the king nodded.

  “****”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Detective Sergeant Fred Hannam was amazed at the opulence of Sophia Hunter’s home during his first visit and even more impressed during his second and slightly longer visit. Ann guided him and his female partner to a lounge room where they were invited to sit while Sophia Hunter was summonsed. Fred had been a police detective for 11 years. He worked Major Crime out of Parramatta Police Headquarters. He was in his early 30’s
and not traditionally the height of a policeman from the 70’s. At 5 feet 9 inches tall he would not have been an imposing sight other than for his muscular and solid build. He had short cropped blond spiky hair with a small blond moustache. Most women found him very attractive. Ann Hanna found him attractive. Sophia Hunter had taken an instant dislike to the detective from the outset. ‘What do you want?’ she snapped as she strode into the room and almost threw herself into a lounge chair opposite Fred Hannam.

  ‘This is Detective Stafford,’ said Hannam. ‘She was with me the last time I visited.’

  Sophia glanced briefly at the young female detective seated next to Fred Hannam. ‘Are you an islander?’

  ‘I was born in Tonga,’ said Sunia Stafford. ‘I grew up and was educated in Sydney.

  ‘Good for you,’ said Sophia, looking back at Fred Hannam. ‘Bringing in some South Pacific talent?’

  ‘Bringing in anyone who can help find the person who killed your husband,’ said Hannam.

  ‘It’s been almost 2 weeks now and from what I hear, you know nothing.’

  ‘Perhaps you haven’t told us everything Mrs. Hunter,’ said Hannam.

  ‘Like what exactly?’

  Hannam crossed his right leg over his left knee. ‘Loa Tei.’

  ‘Business associate,’ said Sophia, rolling her eyes.

  ‘She works as a sales assistant in a chemist shop in Nuku’Alofa.’

  ‘At least you know how to pronounce the capital of Tonga,’ Sophia snapped back.

  ‘My investigations have not revealed that your husband was involved with the import or export of medical products Mrs. Hunter.’

  ‘You should know,’ said Sophia. ‘I gather you tore his city office apart.’

  ‘We executed a search warrant,’ said Hannam.

  Sophia shrugged her bare shoulders and tried to look bored. She was wearing a low cut blue cotton dress which barely covered her knickers. Hannam assumed she was wearing knickers. He had noted the thrust of her large breasts through the body hugging material…several times. The effort to force his eyes to look only at her face had turned out to be physically and emotionally demanding. Sophia knew this instantly. Detective Stafford was also aware of his partner’s struggle because of the disapproving look on her face. He knew that she would be tempted to ask Sophia Hunter to go wrap herself in a blanket or something, but was resisting the urge.