Death by Tradition: Fiji Islands Mysteries 2

by B. M. Allsopp

  ‘He’s convinced of his own importance, that’s for sure. As you say, he’s bright enough. I hope we can unearth some treasure from his files. But I liked him, you know. He’s one of the very few people I’ve met since I came home who hasn’t pumped my hand for a minute and told me how sorry he was I couldn’t play rugby anymore.’

  The super gave him a shrewd look. What did that mean? Maybe that he was being egotistical. He shouldn’t have shared that.

  Superintendent Navala weighed the box in his arms before handing it to Horseman. ‘I reckon there’s not more than a day’s work in here, but let’s see.’

  They cleared the super’s desk, divided the files between them, and started work in companionable silence.

  26

  Horseman arrived at the shabby little terminal at Nausori, which bore the misleading sign, Suva International Airport. He wondered what Melissa would make of it. He’d warned her that there were only six international flights arriving at Suva each week from Australia and New Zealand, serving mainly business visitors. But the airport linked many Fiji islands with the capital, and in daylight hours it buzzed with small aircraft traffic.

  This was how he felt before a rugby game: hyped up, expectant, happy, but anxious too. He hadn’t realised how desperate he was that she would love Fiji. The terminal was clean enough, but needed a spruce up, and Melissa would hate to see that thin dog gnawing at its mangy hide, and the dull-eyed toddler wracked by bouts of coughing. He wanted everything to be travel-brochure perfect for her, but that was crazy.

  Here was the Twin Otter from Nadi now, taxiing to a stop about 100 metres from the terminal. He was at the glass, ready to catch his first glimpse as she emerged onto the steps. Thirteen passengers disembarked. A couple of minutes later, the pilot and co-pilot descended and the baggage was unloaded.

  Hours ago, his mother had phoned to say Melissa had arrived and he’d spoken to both of them. Melissa was about to buy a Fiji SIM card so she could use her own phone, then Mrs Horseman was going to take her out for a proper breakfast. What had gone wrong? He hurried to the Fiji Airlines counter. Yes, Melissa Martini was booked on the flight, but the clerk needed the passenger manifest from the pilot before he could say whether she had boarded the plane. The pilot turned up two minutes later, told him Ms Martini had not turned up for the flight, despite repeated calls broadcast from the Nadi check-in desk.

  No need to worry. Due to his mother’s enthusiasm for her role as hostess and tour guide, they’d probably just got back late. No other explanation was possible. Then why was he gripped by terror, his chest in a vise?

  He pulled his own phone from his pocket when it startled him by ringing. He fumbled at the screen but managed to answer on the third ring. ‘Mum? Melissa?’

  ‘Sir, it’s Singh. I’m at Kumi Police Post. Thought I should call you. I’ve already radioed CID and reported to the super, so no need to do that.’ She sounded very worried.

  A new fear slammed him. ‘What’s happened, Susie?’

  ‘It’s Kelera. Maybe nothing, but I’m concerned after her call to me yesterday. She didn’t turn up to Vili’s funeral this morning. Well, that’s understandable, she could have been too distressed. But now, the feast’s getting underway and no one can find her. Her family is alarmed.’

  ‘What did the super say?’

  ‘He thinks it’s too early to report her as missing, says to wait until tomorrow for her to show up.’

  ‘Probably she’s taken herself off to be alone, as you say, can’t face the ceremonies and people. But I would act as if she’s missing, even so early. After the feast, organise a search. Are the Kumi Police Post cops at the funeral?’

  ‘Two of them. Neither of them were on duty when Kelera visited their post to phone me yesterday.’

  ‘You’re the senior officer on the spot. I want you to order all the Kumi officers to Tanoa. One officer only to remain at the post to relay communications. Question them about Kelera’s call. I only wish I could go up there too. But Melissa missed her plane to Suva. She was with my mother, but I’ve got to track her down. My God, two missing women in one day!’

  ‘Don’t worry, sir. You’re on leave. The super and I agreed to leave you out of this. But I knew you’d want to know.’

  ‘I appreciate that, Susie. Very much. You can handle this, no problems. I hope to hear from you with good news before too long.’

  ‘I’d better get on with it then.’ She sounded uncertain, most unusual for her.

  ‘Remember you’re in charge there, Detective Sergeant. Be clear and firm, as you always are. You will need to ask the local cops for information, but do not ask their permission or apologise for any of your orders.’

  ‘Vinaka, sir. I’ll do that.’ Her voice was firmer already.

  ‘Susie, no one could do this job more effectively than you. Good luck!’

  ‘Be in touch, sir.’

  As he ended the call, he noticed a missed call alert. Damn! His mum had tried to get in touch while he was talking to Singh. He called back. Please let her answer!

  ‘Josefa?’ Mrs Horseman asked uncertainly.

  ‘Mum, what’s happened? I’m waiting here at Nausori. Is Melissa with you?’

  ‘Io, she’s right here, safe and sound. I’m afraid this is my fault, Joe. I wanted to take her somewhere really nice, like what she’s used to in the States, so we got a cab to Denarau Island and had a beautiful breakfast, brunch really. At the Hilton Resort. We walked along the beach. Melissa—I do so like her, Joe—noticed the time was getting on, so we came back. But the cab was held up by an accident, there was no way the driver could get around it, the police were directing traffic…’

  ‘Mum!’ Horseman sighed. ‘I really wish she’d been on that plane! But it’s done now. What’s happening?’

  ‘She’ll be on a flight in another two hours. Here she is.’

  ‘Joe, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Bula, Melissa. Welcome to Fiji. It’s so good to know you’re almost with me.’

  ‘I’ve had a lovely time, Joe. Your mother is so kind and welcoming—I’ve really had a great time, until I missed the plane. I knew you’d worry.’

  ‘Have you got your phone up and running now?’

  ‘Sure, honey. Got the SIM card, I’ll just set it up while we wait. Oh, I saw your face on a road safety billboard! Your mom tells me they’re everywhere. I didn’t know you were a celebrity, Joe! Anyway, I’ll speak to you before I get on the plane and I’ll be with you soon. Ciao!’

  He was relieved and wrung out. He rubbed his hands over his head. It was really time to renovate this airport. It hadn’t occurred to him before what a bad impression it must give visitors. The truth was, in less than an hour he’d become annoyed and exasperated with everyone: his mother, for Melissa missing her plane; this tinpot airport, for not being fit to welcome Melissa; the super, for not supporting Singh more actively; the Nadi cops who’d held up Melissa’s taxi; the useless cops at Kumi post; and even Melissa, for arriving at a very bad time indeed. He was so guilty at this last thought that he groaned aloud. Most of all, he was furious with himself for not being able to put everything right.

  He went into the men’s, which stank of urine and worse, despite a superficially clean appearance. He splashed his face with water and washed his hands, considering what was best to do. He’d have time to spend an hour back at the office with the super before returning here. He wanted to support Susie. But Melissa was here in Fiji and he could not abandon her.

  ***

  ‘Joe, what are you doing back here?’ The super was irritated.

  After he’d explained, Navala seemed amused. ‘You’ve come all the way back here for an hour? Now that’s taking duty much too far, Detective Inspector. You are on leave!’

  Horseman felt a bit foolish, now. Of course, the super was right. He held up his brown paper bag. ‘I have to eat, sir. I can’t eat anything at what passes for a canteen at the airport.’

  ‘Fair enough. What do you want to do
? Read more Chatterjee files?’

  ‘If you want me to, yes. But first, can I get up to speed on the Tanoa situation?’

  ‘Singh will organise the search for the pastor’s daughter, who has most likely simply escaped Tanoa for a bit. She’ll do that most competently.’

  ‘I agree, sir. But I feel I should be there, too. Kelera wanted to come here today to give us information. If Vili’s killer knows…’

  ‘I understand how you feel. I also know you need to be back at the airport before too long.’

  ‘Sir, can we just organise more support for Susie? It’s intolerable that she has to drive to the Kumi post to radio or telephone. Tanoa is cut off and the situation there could now be dangerous.’

  The super raised his eyebrows in agreement. ‘Nothing we can do to change that, Joe.’

  ‘Sir, I know the new Motorola radio equipment is due. Have any shipments arrived yet? If so, the situation surely warrants using one of the pilot vehicles. From the specs I’ve seen, the vehicle-mounted radios have the reach to communicate with Tanoa.’

  His boss shrugged. ‘I know some equipment has arrived and the techs are checking it out.’

  ‘Susie will return tonight, sir. Before then, why not get the techs to test it with her? I don’t know if the new stuff is compatible with the field radio she’s using now, but they could test that today. If not, we’ll need to requisition one of the new vehicles and a number of field sets and test them out tomorrow. I can’t think of a better field test, myself.’

  ‘True. Leave that to me. Whatever is possible, I’ll organise it.’

  ‘Vinaka, sir. Next Singh needs more support than Musudroka and the local uniforms. I propose you deploy at least one more detective, perhaps DS Taleca? Plus as many experienced constables as possible to go to Tanoa in the morning.’

  ‘I don’t know where I’ll get them from, but I’ll try.’ Navala sounded more positive.

  Kelera’s safety was at stake. Even Singh could be at risk. Horseman persisted. ‘A second vehicle would provide more flexibility, too. I assume that could be the current Land Cruiser we’ve been using?’

  ‘That should be okay— the vehicle is signed out to this case. Look Joe, I can organise what’s possible on one condition.’

  ‘Io, sir?’

  The super looked stern. ‘You eat your lunch and get back out to Nausori airport in time to meet your guest. Your job is to look after her.’

  ‘Io, sir. Please keep me in touch.’

  Horseman surprised himself by pushing the super so hard. But it was the super who had told him only yesterday, ‘Never give up!’

  27

  It was only after the funeral service for Viliame that anyone seemed to notice Kelera’s absence. Kelera hoped that the villagers were ignorant of her relationship with Vili, and maybe they were. It hardly seemed likely to Singh, however. Only one person needed to glimpse each of them heading off to the spice gardens on Saturday nights, no matter they took different paths, and the secret would be out. Unless it was their own family members who found out about them. They would certainly guard their secret, for who would want to smart from gossip about their own daughter or sister? No one. Vili’s younger sister had guessed correctly about her brother and Kelera, but Singh was sure Elisa would never confide this to anyone else, even her parents.

  Singh stood near the church, watching the village women, and some men too, carrying large pots and platters of food over to the thatched feasting shelters erected for Sunday’s ceremonies, now co-opted for Viliame Bovoro’s funeral feast. Pandanus mats carpeted the ground beneath the thatch, bolts of floral-print cloth were unrolled along the centre of the mats as tablecloths and the food was arranged. The drifts of smoky vapour from the lovo set Singh’s tastebuds tingling.

  Mere Tora came up to Singh, smiling. ‘My dear, come and sit with my family, over here. We do appreciate your presence, you know. Come, you’re most welcome.’

  The kindly pastor’s wife sat next to Singh. On her other side was a son, a boy about twelve who would look exactly like the pastor in ten years. He might also grow up to be an eloquent speaker, but for now he was tongue-tied, staring determinedly at the food. Singh couldn’t elicit more than one soft syllable from him in response to her friendly questions.

  The pastor prayed in Fijian. The whole community sang a hymn that Singh did not know but which moved her. Then they passed dishes and tucked in heartily to the mounds of baked pork, river fish, and heaped vegetables. Gradually, the feasting lifted their sadness, earnest conversations became bright chatter, and laughter broke the gloom. The half-full platters disappeared, replaced by trays of small puddings. Singh adored Fijian puddings, a special treat of her childhood in the backblocks of the west. They were a sweet mash of cassava, banana, and coconut, intricately tied in a leaf and steamed in the lovo. So filling, they induced contentment and sleep.

  However, she had a job to do, which could wait no longer.

  ‘Mrs Tora, where do you think Kelera could be?’

  ‘I don’t know, dear. This is not like her. I know she is most distressed by Vili’s death, but she has a strong sense of duty. I’m disappointed she has missed the funeral. She’s not in our house, that’s all I know.’

  ‘Pastor?’

  Pastor Joni shook his head. ‘I feel just the same as Mere. Kelera’s absence is inexplicable.’

  ‘Yesterday, Kelera telephoned me from the police post at Kumi. She told me she would come to Suva after the funeral today to talk to me. She may have wanted to give me information about Vili’s murder.’

  Kelera’s parents looked stunned. ‘I knew nothing about this, did you, Joni?’

  ‘Not at all. She didn’t come home until just before dinner, but I thought she’d been working at school or the spice gardens. I was busy preparing the funeral service.’

  ‘Would she walk to the police post? Could someone have driven her there?’

  ‘She could have walked. The vehicles here each made trips yesterday, bringing in extra supplies for today and Sunday.’

  ‘Waisele or Isi might have picked her up along the way. They were both carting yesterday. I hear Ali brought a load of vegetables up from his farm down at the road junction. So kind of him. His farm’s about forty minutes’ drive from here. If he passed her on the road, he would have offered her a lift. He’s here today.’

  ‘I’ll ask all of them,’ Singh said. ‘Most likely Kelera will return when she’s ready. But I’m going to start a precautionary search as soon as possible this afternoon. Could you spread the word that any volunteers should meet DC Musudroka and me at the school in half an hour?’

  ‘Io, anything to help. Are you sure it’s necessary?’ Mrs Tora’s eyes widened in fear. Her husband put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Let’s follow Sergeant Singh’s advice, my dear.’

  Singh had turned Kelera’s parents’ puzzlement about their daughter into alarm. She regretted that, but she had no choice. She spotted Musudroka talking to some young men and caught his eye. When he joined her, she filled him in.

  ‘Circulate and sound people out about when they last saw Kelera. Take notes—we need an accurate timeline. Invite them all to join the search, but no pressure. Many will have jobs they must do winding up the funeral feast. Some may have ideas about likely places to search. I’ll need to stay around the village to coordinate. I want you to lead a small party to the spice gardens. That’s got to be one of the most likely places she would go if she simply wanted to avoid people. Divide up and search along both paths. You know the drill.’

  ‘Yes, Sergeant, starting now!’ Singh was pleased to see him perk up at the prospect of action. She felt the same.

  ‘Get all the volunteers to gather near the church for a briefing first. We don’t want any lone rangers going off half-cocked. Half an hour to round them up, Tani.’

  Pastor Joni was as good as his word, even setting up the church porch with trestle tables and chairs. He produced an official Lands Department survey map of the area a
nd interpreted the main features around Tanoa for her. Mere Tora rustled up a huge pot of tea and plenty of cups from the church’s store. Their fear had become purposeful action.

  As each volunteer showed up, Singh wrote their names in one of the spare exercise books that lived in her backpack. She recorded when and where they had last seen Kelera and where they thought she might have gone. Eventually, twenty-three adults and thirty children turned up. It was touching that Kelera’s pupils wanted to help, but Singh sent them home. Musudroka led nine searchers to the spice groves over the ridge. Both Tomasi and Ilai volunteered to lead parties, so Singh directed Tomasi and six others to search the village and the adjacent plantations. She asked Ilai to supervise the remaining six in a search along the river banks and cliffs. Pastor Joni joined Ilai’s party.

  Within five minutes all had disappeared from her view. Loud calls of ‘Bula! Kelera!’ from different directions reassured Singh. She read through her notes on the searchers, annotating each entry with a number. This ranked each sighting of Kelera from earliest to most recent. From this data she would construct a timeline. She fished a ruler out of her backpack, turned to the double page in the centre of the book, and began. All the searchers had last seen Kelera either yesterday or the day before. None had seen her today. She ruled three lines representing those days across both pages. She crossed each line with vertical bars representing hours, labelled them, and began to add red crosses for each ‘last sighting’.

  Mere placed a sweet-smelling cup of tea at Singh’s elbow. ‘Milk, dear?’

  ‘Yes, please. I’m very grateful for your support, Mrs Tora.’

  ‘It’s my Kelera who’s missing, my dear. Bless you, what’s this you’re doing?’