Death by Tradition: Fiji Islands Mysteries 2

by B. M. Allsopp

  Horseman shook his head and forced a laugh. ‘Man, you were a cop! You’ve heard this line from thieves so many times, I’m amazed you can say that with a straight face. That’s what they all say, isn’t it? Except an honest few who admit they steal to get money.’

  ‘No, I am not a common thief!’ Tomasi protested.

  Singh turned to Horseman. ‘You know, Inspector, there’s a good reason why Tomasi didn’t discuss this with Ratu Osea.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Horseman asked.

  ‘Because he stole the war club in order to murder Viliame. He planned Vili’s death. Otherwise, he would have discussed his shame about the club openly with Ratu Osea. Isn’t that right, Tomasi?’

  ‘No!’ Tomasi shouted.

  Singh leaned forward. ‘It’s the only reason that makes sense. If you stole the club to kill Viliame, you couldn’t discuss it with Ratu Osea, obviously. He would never sanction murder, would he?’

  ‘Of course not! Our chief is upright.’ His voice dripped with scorn for the outsider who could never understand.

  ‘Well, then, I’ve made my case.’ Singh said, smiling.

  ‘Hang on a minute, Sergeant. I’ve just thought of another explanation,’ Horseman said. ‘How about this? Let’s turn your story upside down. Let’s say Ratu Osea requested Tomasi to lift the club from the museum. The reason he didn’t ask the museum directly was that he, the chief, wanted it to kill Viliame.’

  ‘No, what rubbish!’ Tomasi shouted again.

  ‘But why would Ratu Osea murder Viliame?’ Singh asked Horseman.

  ‘That’s for Ratu Osea to say, not me, don’t you think?’ Horseman looked straight at Tomasi. ‘Who’s right: Sergeant Singh or me?’

  Tomasi flung up his hands, beyond exasperated.

  ‘Neither of you are right! As you very well know! I’ve admitted getting the boys to bring me the club. As you suspect, my security guard mate lent me a key and left the cabinet unlocked. No damage was done. I’ve already told you my reasons. I’m prepared to make my statement about that. Ratu Osea had nothing to do with it.’

  Singh smiled. ‘One more question first, Tomasi. If neither you nor Ratu Osea murdered Viliame with the club, who did?’

  Tomasi dropped his eyes. The question seemed to sap his anger. Was he frightened again? ‘I don’t know,’ he answered after a few moments.

  ‘Come on, man! When did you take it back to Tanoa?’ Horseman asked.

  Tomasi’s eyes glided about. Clearly, he hadn’t thought about this part of his story. ‘The next day, 16th April.’ He sounded a bit uncertain.

  ‘Took it on the bus, did you?’ Horseman asked in a good-humoured tone. ‘I bet that aroused interest from the other passengers.’

  ‘Do you think I’m crazy?’ Tomasi was derisive. ‘I wrapped it in a blanket and put it in a sports bag. One of those long ones, for hockey sticks and cricket bats. Naca, my cousin, brought a load of dalo to Suva market that day. I returned with him in his truck.’

  ‘That club’s longer than a hockey stick,’ Horseman observed.

  Singh wrote in her notebook. ‘And when you got back to Tanoa, where did you put the club?’

  ‘In my house,’ Tomasi replied promptly.

  ‘I don’t think you could have left it there for long, Tomasi. Not with your tidy wife and your curious young son. You were kind enough to invite us to your house last Wednesday. Forgive me, but there’s not a lot of storage space, is there? Is the club still there now?’

  ‘Io.’

  ‘Good, what a relief. I’ll radio Sergeant Taleca to pick it up right away. The new radio gear is wonderful, isn’t it? Excuse me a minute, please, Inspector.’

  ‘Certainly. Ask them to send in some tea, will you, please?’ Horseman asked.

  As Singh opened the door, Tomasi said, ‘Wait. I’ve remembered it’s no longer at home.’

  Horseman was relieved. Tomasi may have become a thief and a liar, but something remained of the cop he had once been. He was still reluctant to waste police time by sending them on a wild goose chase.

  Singh said, ‘I’ll order tea anyway.’

  ‘So, where is the club now?’ Horseman asked.

  The man’s eyes wavered again. He would’ve had time to concoct these details and get them straight. No wonder he’d never been promoted.

  ‘I—I’m not sure,’ Tomasi answered after a prolonged pause, just as Singh returned.

  ‘Why not, did you pass it on to someone?’

  ‘Io, I was worried about my son, like you said, so I put it in the storeroom at the school. The one they use for all the meke costumes. I hid it well.’

  ‘My officers searched that room thoroughly on Wednesday. They didn’t find it.’

  ‘Um, I didn’t put it there until Thursday, after the search.’

  ‘Oi lei! Did Vili’s murderer take the bag from your house before last Saturday and return it sometime before Thursday, then? And you didn’t notice?’

  ‘No, sir,’ Tomasi muttered. Even he could see that rag of a lie wouldn’t wash.

  Horseman sighed. ‘Okay, then. When Sergeant Singh radios Sergeant Taleca to seize that bag from the store room, and he can’t find it, I’ll add obstructing the police to your list of charges. Understood?’

  Tomasi said nothing. A constable brought in tea.

  Tomasi mumbled, ‘I’m confused with the dates. I put the bag with the club in the storeroom on Friday when I returned with Naca.’

  ‘Oh, you did, did you? Have you been to check it since?’

  ‘No sir.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I knew it was safe there, sir.”

  ‘Man, how wrong you were!’

  ‘Io, sir.’

  ‘Let me put a different story to you, Tomasi. You returned to the village that Friday 16th April, gave the war club to whoever asked you to bring it to him, and that was that. You weren’t aware it was that man’s chosen murder weapon.’

  ‘No sir. I didn’t give it to anyone.’

  He might be telling the truth. Just. It was possible that Ratu Osea, or Ilai, told Tomasi to leave the club in the school storeroom. If so, that was clever. Tomasi could deny handing it over to anyone, without perjuring himself.

  ‘Do you know who killed Vili? Singh asked.

  ‘No, ma’am, I do not.’

  ‘Tomasi, you’ve been with me since yesterday, searching for Kelera. I’ve been grateful for your hard work.’

  Tomasi looked up, surprised.

  Singh looked directly into his eyes. ‘Do you know where Kelera is, Tomasi?’

  Tomasi held her gaze, shaking his head slowly. ‘I do not, Sergeant.’ His voice was firm now.

  ‘Do you know if Kelera is alive?’

  ‘I do not. I pray she is.’

  ‘Was Kelera at school when you took the sports bag containing the war club to the store room there?’

  ‘No, school had finished. It was about six o’clock.’

  ‘Kelera often did her marking and preparation in her classroom after the children left. Did you notice if she was there when you went to the storeroom?’

  ‘I didn’t notice.’ But he frowned and broke eye contact.

  ‘Vinaka, Tomasi. After I take your statement, I’m going back to Tanoa to carry on the search. If you remember anything that might help me find her, please ask the duty sergeant here to get in radio contact with me. The new equipment means I can act immediately on any information HQ in Suva receives.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Horseman realised in focusing on the club theft and Vili’s murder, he’d omitted an important question. ‘Kelera’s a pretty young woman. She must have had a few admirers, Tomasi.’

  Tomasi shrugged. ‘I suppose so, but I don’t know who. The young men don’t confide in me.’

  ‘Well, I don’t think they would only be young men. She’s studious, quite serious, isn’t she? Mature men are often attracted to young women like that.’

  ‘Maybe, I don’t know.’

  �
��You were a cop most of your life. You’re observant. Did you notice any man, young or not, paying her particular attention?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Think, Tomasi. You owe Kelera, after holding up this investigation with your lies and deception. Picture her going about her work at the church, the school, the spice gardens. Do you see any man looking at her a lot, watching her? Hanging around her house or the school? Looking at her in church?’

  Tomasi shook his head. ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Very well. Sergeant Singh will take your statement, then I’ll be back to charge you as I told you before. You will be detained in the lock-up here at Nausori until transport can be arranged to Suva.’ He picked up his enamel mug of tea and walked out, badly in need of fresh air.

  He called the super and told him the news. Navala sighed. ‘I agree with you, Joe. Tomasi may have been carrying out the chief’s wishes, but he won’t betray him. His confession to stealing the murder weapon isn’t enough to charge him with Vili’s murder.’

  ‘No, we need just one piece of hard evidence. I’ve been nagging at the labs, but nothing so far.’

  ‘Keep nagging, Joe. I’ve found it helps. And after you’ve charged our retired cop, you’d better get back here as soon as you can or I’ll be finished with these files.’

  35

  By the time Horseman got back to Suva at three o’clock, the constables had completed contacting every person on Kelera’s parents’ list, plus others suggested by relatives and friends. They’d discovered nothing, so the super sent them back to their own units.

  Horseman sat in Navala’s office, the box of Chatterjee’s files between them. ‘I’ll let Chatterjee know he can come and get these,’ the super said. ‘I finished reading them just now. Quite an education about the methods of our art crime expert. What did you make of them?’

  ‘To be fair, I only got through about a quarter of them, and those focussed exclusively on finding the club. Chatterjee seems to have the world of art dealing at his fingertips, I’ll give him that. But his assumption that the club was stolen to order for immediate export was dangerous. It limited his investigation, as we’ve seen.’

  ‘Io, it raised questions in my mind. The reports of interviews with museum staff are so sketchy, I wondered if Chatterjee just wasn’t very interested in that line. Or wasn’t very capable. So, Joe, always remember our key question—who benefits? In Triple C, who benefits from a rushed investigation?’

  ‘The thieves, who in this case are the young rascals and Tomasi. But I can’t believe Chatterjee was in on this too.’ What was the super getting at?

  ‘No, no. However, if the Tanoa chief is pulling Tomasi’s strings, he becomes the main beneficiary of a poorly focused investigation. The closed circuit of the chiefs’ network takes in the top echelon of the force, and we’re proud of that. The choice of Chatterjee as IO suggests to me that someone at the top did a favour for Ratu Osea and ensured the museum case would never be cracked by giving it to an inexperienced officer. Classic, isn’t it?’

  This suggestion shocked Horseman. ‘I’m not sure, sir. You mean a senior officer is complicit in the theft of the club?’

  ‘No, that’s not how it works. Top brass wouldn’t want to know the details, Joe. Ratu Osea might just hint that the thieves may possibly never be discovered. If so, there’s not a thing we can do about it. Just be aware of the possibility lurking in the background.’

  Horseman couldn’t go along with this. When did his upright, dedicated super become so cynical?

  Navala sighed and continued. ‘The second question this case raises is training. CID recruits specialists, like Chatterjee, who may have skills we need, but then neglects to train them properly as police detectives. All this fast tracking doesn’t lead to fast results, or any results at all, as in this case. We can’t blame Chattterjee, who’s done as well as his limited training allows. I should write a submission, but is there any point when I’m retiring at the end of the year?’

  ‘Absolutely, sir. I think you should. Your experience mustn’t be lost to CID. That would be a disaster.’ Horseman heard his voice shaking, to his surprise.

  ‘Vinaka, Joe. I’ll see. But as far as Chatterjee’s concerned, I doubt he sees his future with us. He’s not a cop by nature, and he hasn’t had the training to make up for that. If he can wangle it, he’ll be back in Paris in UNESCO with a tax-free obese salary and all the perks. Failing that, some sort of cultural advisory sinecure in the South Pacific Commission.’

  Horseman’s dismay deepened, but he smiled. ‘Maybe, we’ll see. How’s the work with the NLTB files going?’

  ‘Methodical, if not productive. As we haven’t got any support available here since the search for Kelera began, the Financial Crimes Unit has taken the files back to their own offices. Sai reckons they should be finished tomorrow.’

  ‘Sorry I wasn’t much help with that, sir.’

  ‘Nonsense, you were called away by urgent developments. And you’ve had half a day off. Terrible! How is your guest, Joe?’

  ‘Fine, thank you, sir. I’m sure she’ll be enjoying herself at Colo-i-Suva with my sister and her family.’

  ‘Good, good. Now we’ve got Tomasi, I trust you’ll close this case quickly. As soon as you do, disappear with your guest immediately on that leave you’ve got due.’

  Horseman felt aeons away from closing the case. He needed some space to be still and imagine. Perhaps while he was driving—that often worked. And there was someone he needed to visit without delay.

  ‘Sir, before any paperwork attacks me, I intend to break the news about Tomasi’s arrest to Ratu Osea in person. I know he’s taking the Weston descendants on a tour today, so he may not have heard.’

  But the super was in a rare talkative mood. ‘Did Singh fill you in on our gate-crashing call on Ratu Osea?’

  ‘A bit. We caught up when we grabbed a pizza for lunch.’

  ‘You’ll understand that I’ll be persona non grata with him then. I was annoyed and let my emotions get the better of me.’

  ‘No worries at all. I’ll be as nice as I can be and hope he’ll agree to meet me.’

  ‘Good luck, Joe.’

  ‘Vinaka. Why don’t you call it a day? I’ll let you know if anything important comes up.’

  ‘You’re right. There’s nothing more I can do here. I can’t get at the genealogy records until Monday. Everything set for the big day at Tanoa tomorrow?’

  ‘Io sir. It’s a different story with the new Motorola transmitters. Brilliant! Vinaka for collaring those for us. Moce mada.’

  The super’s eyes twinkled, but he looked bone-tired as he pushed himself to his feet, left his office, and started down the stairs.

  ***

  To Horseman’s surprise, Ratu Osea picked up his call immediately. ‘It’s always a pleasure to speak to you, Detective Inspector Horseman. However, now is not the best time. I am with my overseas guests for our reconciliation ceremonies.’

  ‘I beg your pardon for interrupting, Ratu. I’d like to meet you as soon as possible. I have news of our investigation that I think you should be the first civilian to hear.’

  ‘Vinaka, you may tell me now. Has Kelera been found?’

  ‘Not yet. Ratu, I would prefer not to convey this news by telephone. I would appreciate it if you could agree to meet this afternoon.’

  There was silence. Horseman forced himself to wait it out. Then the chief spoke again. ‘We’re having afternoon tea at the Fiji Regiment Club. You can meet me there in half an hour. On one condition.’

  ‘I’ll meet your condition if I can, Ratu. What is it?’

  ‘Permit me to introduce you to my guests, Inspector. I’ve found some keen rugby devotees among them. They’ll be impressed that you’re my acquaintance.’

  Was the chief being sarcastic? ‘I would be honoured, Ratu. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.’

  Thank God he kept a decent outfit in his locker for such occasions, rare though they were. He grabbed his clothes an
d towel. With the help of the stair banister, he dashed downstairs to the shower room, emerging ten minutes later in tailored grey sulu and white business shirt. He flagged a passing taxi and arrived at the steps of the Fiji Regiment Club with three minutes to spare.

  Ratu Osea sat with his guests at a round table set with the regimental silver service. A waiter was serving each guest with hot savouries, while another poured tea and coffee. Yet another waiter placed baskets of hot scones, trays of sandwiches, and cakes in the centre of the table for guests to help themselves.

  The chief glanced up and beckoned with a tilt of his head. ‘Friends, allow me to introduce our most distinguished rugby exponent, Josefa Horseman. Joe has successfully captained our Sevens national team several times, not to mention being indispensable in the Tri-Nations, World Cup, Commonwealth Games—you name it!’

  Horseman really wished the chief hadn’t said that. Was he deliberately needling him? He had no idea, but if that was the price he had to pay for the chief’s cooperation, so be it. He went around the table, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. A guest pulled up a chair and so Horseman sat, feeling like a fly lured into the spider’s parlour. His tea was poured, curry puffs placed on his plate. What could he do?

  So he enjoyed his tea, curry puffs, and scones. He certainly enjoyed the knowledgeable rugby talk of two Weston descendants. However, after twenty minutes, he decided he had paid his dues and must extricate himself from the sticky web. He stood up and bowed slightly.

  ‘This has been delightful, ladies and gentlemen, but please excuse me now. I’m a police officer in my other life, and I must return to duty.’

  This revelation led to yet more friendly questions from the guests. They did seem nice people, and in another context he would have been happy to talk to them longer. He looked at the chief. ‘Ratu Osea, can I speak to you for a moment, please?’

  ‘Certainly, Inspector, if my friends will excuse me.’ He led Horseman to a small table at the opposite end of the verandah, waving away the attentions of waiters.

  ‘I can’t tell you what a true pleasure it is for me to entertain these descendants of the Rev. Weston. They are such nice, simple people, so ready to forgive our terrible wrong.’ He gazed at Horseman with his characteristic intensity.