‘Elisa, have you any idea who killed your brother?’ she asked.
The girl straightened and met Singh’s eyes. She was shocked. ‘No, how could I?’
‘I noticed the way you looked at your mother when she said how popular Viliame was in the village. I think you know more about that than your mother. Am I right?’
Elisa looked down at the desk again. Then she nodded. ‘My brother was the best at everything. He was always grown up, ambitious, yes, but only for our community, not for himself. He was friendly and fun too. Kind.’
Singh smiled. ‘Can anyone really be so perfect?’
‘He was to me.’ Elisa’s voice caught.
‘But not to everyone?’ Singh asked.
‘Some people are jealous of him. It’s natural. But they would never murder him!’
‘Well, someone did, Elisa. And because of the remote location of this village, at the end of the road, it would be much easier for someone living here to kill him than for anyone else.’
‘No, I can’t believe that it was one of us.’ Elisa was indignant.
‘When did you last see Vili?’
‘Saturday evening, in our house. We had dinner, my parents, Vili, Sevu, and me. Then while Mum and me were washing up, he went out. He never came back.’ Her lips trembled, then she wept.
Singh waited until Elisa composed herself. ‘What did you do after the washing up?’
‘The four of us had a cup of tea and said family prayers, then I went to bed.’
‘Did you wake up during the night?’
‘No, not at all, ma’am.’
‘Do you work full-time on the spice project?’
Elisa smiled softly. ‘Oh no, but there’s always something to do. Especially when the vanilla’s flowering, we have to be out every morning early, from sunup to eleven. Each of us aims to pollinate nine hundred flowers by hand each day.’
‘My goodness, I had no idea. That’s intense!’
Elisa grew more animated now. ‘You only get one chance. If you skip a flower, it’s too late the next day.’
‘Is it flowering season now, Elisa?’
‘Oh no. We’ve already harvested this year’s beans and we’re curing them. Curing work needs to be done every day too, but only for an hour or two.’
‘You must be a real expert, Elisa. What other jobs do you do?’
‘Well, we have to clear weeds, cut the grass, train the vines, prune the support trees, but I don’t do much of that. Vili says it’s worth it, you know, because the price of vanilla is very, very high.’ Her tears flowed again. She wiped them with her handkerchief.
‘Elisa, does anyone disapprove of the project?’
‘Not until last year, when Vili applied to the clan elders for more land to plant more vanilla and nutmeg. Vili prepared a proper application, he typed it up in Suva. He spoke to the meeting, answered questions. Then we waited for months. Finally he asked Ilai Takilai, the headman, if there was a problem. Ilai told him to be patient. Then, a couple of months ago, Ilai told Vili his application was not approved.’
‘Did he give any reasons?’
‘No, young people can’t question the elders, can they? Vili had no choice but to accept the decision.’
‘Your brother was energetic and clever, Elisa. Did he have any other plans for the village?’
The girl brightened now. ‘Yes, he was full of ideas. But the spice plantation is the only one that’s earning money, so far.’
‘Tell me about his other ideas.’
‘He wanted to get a chicken shed—you know. The Australian company, Henny Penny, helps a village to build a big shed, just the way they do in Australia. They bring the baby chicks and supply the food, and take the chooks away when they’re the right size. They pay good money, too. Henny Penny thought our village might be too remote, but the main problem was our lack of electricity. So Vili found out all about that, and was talking to Fiji Electricity in Suva. He said electricity wasn’t only for lighting the chicken shed, but could be connected to our houses, the church, and the school. We could power radios without buying expensive batteries. We could use all sorts of machines, even computers.’
‘What happened with that?’
‘I’m not sure. Vili didn’t like to talk about it. Again, the elders considered his plan for a long time, then told him they couldn’t give their permission.’
‘He must have been so disappointed.’
‘He was. But he was always so positive, keeping the rest of us cheerful.’
‘What of your own plans, Elisa. What do you want to do?’
‘I don’t know now. I was happy to help Mum and Vili.’ Her voice trembled. She met Singh’s eyes, and the tears rolled down her cheeks.
Singh waited a moment or two. She couldn’t back off yet.
‘Elisa, did Vili ever talk to you about his life in Suva? Any problems at work, for example?’
The girl shook her head sadly. ‘No. He said he got used to Suva, but it was expensive. He tried to save most of his pay for the project, and to help me and my brother go to school. He wanted to save more, but it was impossible with Suva prices, he said.’
‘Did you ever visit him there?’
‘Yes, twice. He arranged for me to stay with a cousin of a cousin. She and her family were nice to me. I went to Suva on the bus with Vili on Sunday afternoon and came back here with him the next Saturday morning. It was very exciting. So crowded and noisy. But smelly! All the taxis and buses puffing out smoke. I met Vili after work every day and we’d walk around the shops. He took me for a pizza, and curry. Once he took me to a Chinese café. It was all amazing, but I was happy to come back home.’
Perhaps her brother had been trying to open Elisa’s eyes to a wider world, but she was happy with the simpler, less comfortable life in Tanoa.
‘Did Vili have a girlfriend?’
Elisa smiled now. ‘A lot of girls liked Vili. All of them, really. He tried to treat everyone the same, but I knew he only liked Kelera, the pastor’s daughter. Nothing open, but I knew.’
‘Did Vili talk to you about Kelera?’
‘No, he certainly would never share feelings like that. It could lead to gossip, even though I would never pass it on.’ Elisa’s answer was so heartfelt, Singh didn’t doubt her for a moment.
‘What about Kelera. How did she feel about Vili?’
‘I think she really liked him, but she’s never confided in me. I think that’s why Kelera puts in so much time on the projects. When Vili was here on weekends, they worked together a lot. They discussed everything too. Kelera keeps records about the projects. Being a teacher, she’s very organised like that.’
‘Would you say they were boyfriend and girlfriend?’
‘I don’t know. If they were, they both kept it secret.’
‘Elisa, we’ll stop here for now, but if you do remember any arguments or even disagreements Vili told you about, it’s very important that we know. Even if you think it wasn’t much, please tell us. You won’t be wasting our time. Here’s my card. A constable will be here for the next few days, so you can get a message to me through him. Just give him this card, okay?’ Singh wrote Elisa’s name on the back of the card and gave it to her.
Elisa nodded dumbly and took Singh’s card, murmured ‘vinaka’, and left the office.
Singh did not have high hopes of Elisa as a potential source of information. The girl was devoted to her charismatic brother, happy to have been his follower.
School would finish for the day in half an hour. Time to write up her rough jottings in her official notebook. She would be outside the door of Kelera’s classroom by the time the bell rang.
8
Horseman set up two plastic chairs in the shaded church porch. ‘Sit down, sit down, Sevu,’ Horseman said. ‘I just want to have a chat to find out more about your brother.’
The boy hesitated, then slumped onto the chair.
‘How old are you, Sevu?’
‘Sixteen, sir.’
Sevu shook his head. ‘I didn’t like it so much. Vili said I had to go to high school and he paid my fees. But I left last year, when I was fifteen. I didn’t want to waste his money.’
‘Why do you think you were wasting his money?’
‘Dunno. I’m not brainy like him. He wants everyone to be like him. But he’s the one who’s different. I wasn’t too good at exams. I like working on the spice project, and with Dad in our plantations. I like building things. I wanted to come back home.’
‘Sevu, I know what you learned in those three years at high school won’t be wasted, ever. So hang on to that. Your education will help you work better here or anywhere. But you don’t need a lecture from me. Were you working with Vili in the spice gardens last Saturday?’
‘Not really. In the morning Dad and I went to weed the cassava and dalo gardens, then we brought back some vegetables for Mum. Bananas and pawpaw too, enough to last until today. After lunch, I waited for Vili to get here and we checked all the groves and the beans in the curing shed, turned them, and packed them away. He hadn’t been home for two weeks.’
‘What did he talk about when he got home?’
Sevu looked puzzled. ‘Just about how we’d done a good job. Don’t let the weeds get out of control. Don’t let the beans get wet. Oh, and he was glad to get away from Suva.’
‘Did he say why?’
‘Not really. Just that his job was giving him problems.’
‘Any more details than that?’
Sevu frowned and looked away. ‘Not much, I can’t quite remember. He was talking to himself, really. Something about putting two and two together and not liking the answer.’
‘Hm. Did you walk back home together?’
‘Yes, I took him to see the new pig sty I’m building. I’m working on the new vanilla curing shed too, bigger and better than the one in the plantation. We’re already using it, even though I haven’t built the racks yet. We drew a plan on the floor and he showed me what to do. Then we went home to dinner. He went out afterwards.’
‘Do you know where?’
Sevu shook his head. ‘No. We just thought he was visiting friends. He didn’t come back before I went to bed. He didn’t come back at all, did he?’
‘No he didn’t. And we’ve got to find out why not. Did anything, any sound, wake you in the night?’
‘Just once. I woke, then I heard something bang, like a door or a shutter. I thought it was the wind.’
‘It might have been, too. I’ll certainly check if anyone else heard a bang. We’ll find out what happened to Vili, I promise you.’
Horseman hoped this wasn’t another impulsive promise he wouldn’t be able to keep.
9
About twenty children in white shirts and royal blue skirts or shorts filed through the classroom door in orderly fashion. Then, released from obedience, they scattered, exploding into shrill talk and laughter. Singh knocked. A woman of medium height in a calf-length, floral cotton dress was tidying the classroom.
‘Miss Tora? I’m Detective Sergeant Susila Singh. Is now a good time to talk with you?’
The woman came to meet her and shook hands. She was young and very pretty. ‘Please call me Kelera. Thank you for coming to the school. I can talk freely here.’ She glanced over Singh’s shoulder and called ‘Moce mada, Sasa.’
Singh turned to see a young man in pocket sulu and striped shirt wave as he passed the door. ‘Moce mada, Kelera.’ He headed down the slope.
‘Come in, please,’ Kelera said. She moved a chair in front of her teacher’s desk and seated herself behind it.
The room was so dim, Singh’s eyes struggled to adjust after the glare outside. ‘Do you mind if I open a shutter? I’m having trouble seeing.’
‘Sorry, of course.’ Kelera opened the shutter opposite the door, propped it, and returned to the desk.
‘I want to talk to you because you were closely involved in Viliame’s spice project. We’re determined to find Vili’s killer as soon as possible, for everyone’s sake. Anything you can tell us about him is helpful.’
Kelera nodded sadly. ‘I don’t know who killed him, I can’t even think about such evil. But this village is a strange place, Sergeant Singh. People who live at the end of a highlands road think differently. They’re mostly good people, content to live by tradition and by the Bible. They don’t see any need for change, even a change demonstrably for the better, like electricity. They accept the school because they themselves went to school. They want the children to be literate so they can read their Bibles and hymn books, but that’s about it. Vili was one among very few who thought about a better future, and the only one who persisted with a project, despite the lack of interest from the elders.’
‘He inspired those who worked on the spice project—I’ve seen that already. He must have been a very special young man.’
‘Yes, he was.’ Kelera opened a drawer, took out a white handkerchief, and held it to her face. ‘Sorry.’
‘Not at all. Did Vili have a girlfriend here?’
‘Yes, me. I love him so much. I would do anything for him.’ Her eyes filled again.
Singh was taken aback by her candour. ‘Was your relationship public knowledge?’
‘I don’t know. We kept it to ourselves. No one’s asked me about it or even hinted, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know. It’s very difficult to keep a secret here.’
‘I can imagine. Why did you keep it to yourselves?’
‘Vili didn’t ask me to marry him. I hoped he would one day. But if we were open with the village, there would be trouble if he didn’t go ahead and marry me at some stage. I don’t think he wanted to get married. Not yet, at any rate.’
‘When did you last see Vili, Kelera?’
‘On Saturday night.’ She hesitated. ‘We each ate with our families, then when it was dark, made our way separately to the spice gardens.’
‘Where, exactly?’
‘One of the vanilla groves.’ She smiled. ‘It’s so lovely there, another world, protected. We were there no more than an hour, perhaps less. I left first, and returned by the upper path. Vili said he’d wait a bit and walk back on the lower track. I didn’t see him again.’
‘Did you see or hear anything on your return—either on the path or in the village?’
‘No, and I was alert, as I didn’t want to be seen. That’s why I chose that path, because it ends just over there.’ Kelera pointed out the open window. ‘I can wait in the dark until there’s no one around and go down to the school. I leave a lamp burning in my classroom. People think I’m working up here.’
‘Kelera, you’ve said Vili was different from the other villagers here. That usually causes some resentment in a small community. Who resented him most?’
‘I really don’t know. The clan elders refused his applications for land this last year, but does that mean they resented him? They were always slow to consider his plans, even those they eventually approved. I thought that was due to lack of energy and dislike of anything new. I didn’t think the elders actively opposed him, much less hated him. Their authority is secure, how could he be a threat?’
Singh could think of several situations where conservative Fijian elders had reacted violently to lesser threats, or no threats at all. Her terrified uncle and aunt were confronted on their humble sugar cane farm by enraged landlords just before their lease was due for renewal. Fired up by traditionalist agitators, the landlords gave them two days to leave, accusing them of profiteering, plotting to take over the country, and other preposterous claims.
‘It’s about perception, Kelera, even if there’s no real threat. What are the concerns of the elders?’
‘To give them some credit, yes, they say they’re concerned about the community’s low level of educational achievement, low income, not so many people with jobs living in the towns and sending back cash. I suppose I’m a bit cynical—I think their concern was because of lack
of cash for themselves.’
‘Do they have any plans of their own for the village?’
‘Well, perhaps. The mahogany trees are ready for harvesting after forty or fifty years. The elders have great hopes of that, but I don’t know of any actual plans.’
‘Anything else?’ Singh asked.
‘There is something big coming up, but it’s rooted in the past. The chief has got it into his head that God has not forgiven the people of Tanoa for killing a missionary in 1875. Rev. Charles Weston. He believes the burden of this sin weighs upon the murderers’ descendants and has denied them prosperity. The plan is to invite the descendants of the murdered missionary here for an elaborate ceremony of apology and reconciliation.’
Singh was astonished at this approach to village development. Wouldn’t electric lighting, a school library, and scholarships be a better way? But then, she wasn’t religious by nature and often found it hard to comprehend the devout of any faith, even her own Sikh family.
‘Is this a definite plan?’
‘Oh yes, it’s been going on for two years. It took quite a while to locate Mr Weston’s descendants. My father was able to help, but it still was time-consuming. A year all up. Then all the correspondence, the discussions, and so on. However, eventually they got it all in place. Five descendants have accepted the invitation to receive the village’s hospitality and apology. It’s next Sunday. Vili’s death put it out of my mind.’
‘Understandably. You’re the first to mention it. I wonder if Vili’s death will postpone the plan.’
‘I don’t think there’s time to change it now, even if the chief wanted to. The descendants are coming from Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. The village has paid for their flights, the best hotel in Suva, and all expenses. Many thousands of dollars.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know what will be done. Probably Ratu Osea will talk about it with my father.’
‘What’s the general opinion in the village about this apology project?’
Death by Tradition: Fiji Islands Mysteries 2 Page 5
