Death by Tradition: Fiji Islands Mysteries 2

by B. M. Allsopp

  ‘Why not?’ Singh murmured.

  ‘She may have told her parents, friends, the head teacher, anyone. She may have accused me falsely. I think she might have complained to you about me. That phone call she made suggests that.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘She panicked, forcing me to restrain her. I stuffed my handkerchief in her mouth, led her to her cupboard, where I found adhesive tape to seal the gag and cord for her wrists. I wanted to take her to the vanilla curing shed in the spice gardens to think about our situation. That would have been meaningful. But I realised she would be missed at the funeral, so she had to go.’

  ‘Go, Ilai?’

  ‘She had to leave the village. So I marched her out the door, down to the bridge. There were few people about, and no one looked at us. I held her arm firmly, she couldn’t cry out. She complied, actually. I did need to show her my knife, unfortunately. I put her on the floor of my ute, tied her ankles, and off we went to Lailai village back down the road. I took her to a shed on a relative’s cattle project and made her secure there. No one would be going there that day because of Viliame’s funeral.

  ‘When I returned after the funeral, I brought her some dalo and a bottle of tea made from soporific herbs. She was thirsty by then, so she drank the whole bottle. While I was engaged in the afternoon search, I kicked myself for acting impulsively. I now had no chance of Kelera agreeing to my proposal. She would report me and I would lose all respect in the community. The people’s ill-will would mean I could no longer execute the chief’s wishes. My rightful position would be lost and with that, the customary hierarchy that enables Tanoa to function. In effect, I had set in motion a landslide to destroy our community.

  ‘After dark, I brought more food and tea to keep her quiet for the night. She begged me to let her go, said she would never complain about me to anyone. But she refused to become my wife, ever. I had to think.’

  Horseman thought, Why Kelera? Why did you do that? If you’d agreed, he may have released you. You could have left the village and never seen him again. He glanced at Singh. She looked as dismayed as he felt.

  ‘I spent last night tossing and turning, praying, coming to the same answer over and over. To save Tanoa and our traditional chiefly values, Kelera had to go. She claimed to be a good Christian, yet refused to sacrifice her own desires for the higher good of the community. She looked on the traitor Viliame as her husband. So, let tradition claim her as his widow, by strangulation.

  ‘I couldn’t risk leaving her in the shed any longer. After you took Tomasi away, your constable called for a break from the search and I went back there. Kelera was quite weak. She was very thirsty and drank two bottles of tea. Soon she was asleep again. The sinnet twine was quick. It did cut into her perfect neck, though; I am sorry for that.’

  ‘And then?’ Singh’s voice was soft, sympathetic. Horseman admired her ability to do that; she must detest Ilai.

  ‘I carried her over the rough paddock to the ute, which I drove back to the Tanoa car park. Everyone went to bed early last night, tired out from the search and the celebration preparations. It was quite late when I retrieved Kelera from the ute and brought her to the church in my wheelbarrow, covered in a tarp. I was lucky to miss Ratu Osea returning home from Suva. I had just finished in the church when I saw his torchlight outside and heard his heavy footfalls on the path. I waited for a while, had a smoke, and crept home silently. I’m practised at that. I have good night vision, too.’

  ‘I don’t believe you, Ilai,’ Horseman said.

  Ilai registered shock, as if he’d been insulted.

  ‘What! I have confessed!’

  ‘Not everything, Ilai. You are loyal to your chief, an admirable quality. So loyal, you have left out his part in this dreadful tale. Just as Ratu Osea plotted and ordered the theft of the club, he also ordered Viliame’s death, didn’t he?’

  ‘No, I’ve told you what happened.’

  ‘What happened, maybe. But not why. You murdered Viliame on the chief’s orders. He just wanted the young upstart out of the way, didn’t he?’

  ‘No, um, yes, he wanted him out of the way, but he wished he would just take himself off. He did not order me to kill him! The idea is repellent!’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. You want to return to tradition, the time before the missionaries, before the British. The chiefs’ role certainly included punishing wrongdoers and killing off threats. And it was your ancestors who carried out the chiefs’ orders.’

  ‘That is true of the past. But not here, not now. Do you think me incapable of making decisions and acting on my own?’

  ‘Not at all. When Ratu Osea is away, you are effectively the chief, aren’t you? You run everything.’

  ‘No, when Ratu Osea is absent, he is still the chief. But yes, of course I can manage village business.’

  ‘We’ll prepare your statement according to what you’ve told us, Ilai. You can read it through and make any corrections necessary. Police investigations are still continuing, but as it stands, you’ll be charged with murder, kidnapping, imprisonment, and assault.’

  Ilai Takilai, headman of Tanoa, said nothing.

  46

  ‘I had to escape, Susie. I couldn’t breathe. Ilai’s version of tradition suffocated me.’

  They sat at a tiny table in the corner of the eighty-year-old warehouse that housed Arabica, roasters of Fiji’s highlands coffee beans.

  ‘Know what you mean, sir. What really surprised me was how calm he was. Only hours after a rampage with a deadly war club and a hostage!’

  ‘It’s often the way. There comes a point when a criminal accepts defeat. Then it can be a relief to tell their side of the story, and at length.’

  ‘Do you really believe Ratu Osea was behind the murders?’

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps we’ll never know. The super’s questioning him. He’s more likely to cooperate with a senior officer, and a Fijian of pure stock, unlike you and me.’ He grinned, but Singh frowned.

  She said, ‘You see, Ilai has a much stronger motive. To Ratu Osea, Vili was annoying, arrogant. He could even have hated Vili as time went by. But for the past two years, the chief has been focused on today. Ilai, on the other hand, was obsessed by Kelera, he loved her. He murdered Vili out of jealousy and Kelera out of a twisted love. It’s simple, when you leave out all the red herrings.’

  He pondered, nodding. ‘You always make sense, Susie. Yet I keep seeing Ratu Osea’s face, his eyes focused on something beyond. He’s obsessed by his idea that today’s ceremonies would save the village’s future. I guess that’s abstract, quite different from being obsessed with a woman who will never love you back. That’s more likely to drive you to murder.’

  ‘Glad you see it my way,’ Singh replied, smiling.

  ‘I need another espresso. Make it two?’

  ‘A latte, please.’

  ‘Don’t know what you see in latte, myself. All that milk drowns the coffee.’

  His phone buzzed. Melissa. ‘Bula, Melissa, how are you?’

  Singh went to the counter to order.

  ‘I’m okay, Joe. A few scrapes, which the nurse has dressed very nicely. The doctor wants me to stay for four hours, because of shock. Your sister Eva is here, she wants me to stay too. But you’re the one who’s hurt. How about you, honey?’

  He was pretty sure he’d cracked a rib; the pain when he moved was on the high side. From chest to waist, he was a throbbing mess. But he’d taken worse pummelling on the rugby field. ‘I’ll survive. When I pick you up, I’ll let the medics do their worst. Does that satisfy you?’

  ‘Yes, Joe. Perfect. I’ll wait till you come. Any idea when?’

  ‘You’ve already been there one hour. So, in another three?’

  ‘Okay, I submit. Maybe a nap would be good. Joe?’

  ‘Mm?’

  ‘You are one very brave guy!’

  ‘Nonsense, call of duty, darling. Don’t think you got preferential treatment!’ he teased.
>
  ‘Oh no, never! Ciao, babe.’

  Singh brought their coffees when he ended the call. They sipped in silence. The waiter delivered coconut shortbread. He wondered how different he would have felt if Ilai had grabbed Elisa, or Mere Tora. He decided his actions would have been the same, but had to concede that the terror that gripped him would have been less intense. He could live with that.

  The phone buzzed again. Navala’s greeting sounded sombre. ‘Super? Any news?’

  ‘Ratu Osea maintains he’s cooperating, but who knows? He denies any knowledge of the murders, but eventually owned up to asking Tomasi to steal the club. Says his motive was to reclaim his own property, which he wanted to destroy in today’s ceremony as an act of sacrifice. He is obsessed, Joe! You were right, I’m sorry I doubted you.’

  ‘It’s hard to imagine, until you meet him.’

  ‘Io. You won’t be happy about this, Joe. His expensive solicitor has taken it higher, and I have no choice but to charge him with procuring the theft, then releasing him on bail to his Suva home.’

  ‘Hell! Hardly surprising, though. What about searching his houses, both here and Tanoa?’

  ‘Working on it. Solicitor is fighting that, too. But no problem with Ilai’s house. We can search that tomorrow morning.’

  ‘That’s something.’

  ‘When I say we, that does not include you, Joe. Tanielo’s reported on this afternoon’s highlight. You’re ordered to the hospital for a check.’

  ‘Fine, sir. I promised I’d pick Melissa up when she’s discharged in three hours. Singh and I are having a coffee, perking up now. We’ll be back at the station in fifteen minutes. I’ll have time to file my reports.’

  ‘Alright, I was going to order you to hospital immediately, but I’ll compromise in return for those reports. I’m sorry Melissa has had such a terrible introduction to Fiji. I’m ashamed, in fact.’

  ‘Me too, sir. But she assures me she enjoyed everything until Ilai grabbed her, and that lasted less than half an hour. I hope she’ll be okay.’

  ‘Thirty minutes of terror can have a big impact, Joe. We’re all very concerned. I’m confident medical opinion will support my decision to put you on one week’s sick leave from tomorrow. That can be extended if a doctor recommends it. You won’t need to take your rec. leave. Recover and do some serious PR work for Fiji on Melissa. I won’t have you leaving her alone. Singh and the team can handle the mopping up.’

  He was about to protest, but stopped himself.

  ‘The super is right,’ Singh said, smiling. ‘We’re all ashamed of what Ilai did to Melissa. You’re the only one who can make up for that. I don’t like mopping much, but in this case… I’ll try to do as good a job as you, sir.’

  Tears came to his eyes. Partly pain, partly gratitude. Sometimes the captain needs to go along with what his team wants.

  ‘Vinaka, Susie. I know you will. The others, too.’

  His hands on the table, he pushed himself up from the chair, paused to find his balance. The adrenaline was subsiding. He straightened gingerly, head swimming. No one was indispensable.

  Singh suggested they call in at the pharmacy just down the street. Horseman didn’t know why this hadn’t occurred to him. He downed several ibuprofen capsules on the spot and they got a cab back to the station.

  47

  His head swam as he mounted the stairs, but he eventually made it to the CID room. The constables’ reports were on his desk. Musudroka was the only one still there, labouring over paperwork. Fair enough, it was still Sunday.

  Horseman, Singh, and Musudroka sat together and set to work. Although there was a great deal to report, Horseman’s rule about completing paperwork daily made the job manageable. As the ibuprofen kicked in, Horseman found he could get to his feet, carefully. He checked the unoccupied desks for papers that needed to go in the case file. On a table pushed against the wall, there was a pile of books and a stack of manilla files. Ah yes, Musudroka and Taleca had hauled this lot back from the USP Library. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. When was it—Tuesday?

  ‘Did you read this lot, Tani?’ Horseman asked.

  Musudroka looked wary. ‘Hmm, I started on the photocopies, sir. Pretty much heavy going for me. Didn’t get very far. I’ve been at Tanoa most days, then we had the NLTB files to check…’

  Horseman grinned. ‘No need to be evasive, Tani. What did you read?’

  ‘DS Taleca gave me a report on Rev. Weston’s murder. It was interesting, but that old English confuses me a bit. I couldn’t see how it could help our case, after all this time.’

  ‘You’re wrong there, Tani. The past can reach through the years and land a punch on us today. Especially in Fiji. It can pay to find out what we’re dealing with. But after your sterling service today, I’ll let you off lightly.’

  Musudroka grinned. ‘Vinaka, sir.’

  ‘Is everything you got from the library here?’

  ‘Except that report I started reading. Do you want it now, sir?’

  Horseman needed to sit down again. He hobbled back to their table. ‘Sure, can you bring the whole lot over here, please? I’ve got time to get an overview before I leave for the hospital.’

  Singh brought him a mug of water. ‘You look like you should drink this. Can I help you with the reading, sir?’

  ‘Vinaka, Susie. You and Tani, both of you head off home. It’s been a long and eventful day, to say the least. You’re due for some rest.’

  Without further ado, Musudroka gathered his things and said goodbye.

  Singh stayed where she was. ‘Not for me, sir. Not yet. I’m still too hyped. Reading old documents might be just what I need.’ She smiled cheerfully, but her eyes were troubled, probably with concern for him. He got the feeling she did not intend to leave him alone.

  ‘Okay, I know better than to argue. Here, take half the folders. I’ll check through the books first. Hope they have indexes.’

  After forty minutes, Horseman had marked about a dozen pages from three of the books with torn scraps of paper. ‘Could you copy these for me please, Susie?’

  Singh took them to the photocopier. Horseman saw she was making good progress with the folders; the stacked pages to her right bristled with purple and green sticky tabs.

  He picked up the folder Musudroka had started on. It was a report to the new British Governor, Sir Arthur Gordon, from Ernest Smith, the District Officer sent to investigate the murder of Mr Weston. As he read the pages of copperplate handwriting, the turbulence of those early days of Queen Victoria’s sovereignty over Fiji hit him. Old enmities smouldered, especially among the hill tribes of Viti Levu, at times flaring into secret raids and open battles where heads and slaves were taken.

  Nevertheless, Ernest Smith and his Fijian constables trudged up to Tanoa and investigated the Weston murder as thoroughly as they could, even retrieving some long bones and the chief’s ceremonial club, Destroyer, alleged by proud Tanoans to be the murder weapon. Sifting and piecing together the accounts of both the survivors of Mr Weston’s party and those of the chiefly spokesmen of Tanoa, Ernest Smith came up with mixed motives for the killing. One factor was envious opposition to the Christian Bau chiefdom, recognised as paramount by the British. Another was perceived insult to the chief by Mr Weston. Five Tanoans admitted proudly to ambushing and attacking Mr Weston’s party after they left Tanoa, but three of them claimed to have wielded the fatal blow. Horseman wondered if Ernest Smith understood that implementing a chief’s wishes was an honour worth competing for.

  At any rate, the three men who confessed were brought to Korovou to appear before the Magistrate. However, justice was not served. After a few days in the lock-up, all three succumbed to high fevers and died within a week. Rev. Weston’s murder was overtaken by the calamity of the measles epidemic, which wiped out 20 percent of the population.

  Despite the perfection of the copperplate, the digital photocopier had not coped with the varying pressure of Ernest Smith’s upstrokes and downstrok
es. Horseman could only guess at the unfamiliar names of the confessed Tanoan murderers. But what did it matter now? Mr Smith wisely referred to the three accused as “probable culprits”. Horseman wanted to know who they were.

  When Singh returned with the photocopies and a bag of rotis to share, he asked her to read Ernest Smith’s report while he marked up the photocopies. Their significance seemed peripheral now he had the report.

  Sunday rotis were never as good as Saturday’s, probably because they were Saturday’s leftovers. But lunch had been a long time ago. He demolished two while Singh nibbled one as she read.

  ‘Susie, I accept what you say about Ilai’s motive for the murders being stronger. Maybe that just made it easier for him to kill Vili at the chief’s bidding.’

  ‘You heard the super. You’re excused from mopping up. You’re due at the hospital in twenty minutes and you’re on leave tomorrow.’ He was surprised at the edge to her voice.

  ‘Susie, I know you’ll understand. I can’t take a holiday without following the names in this Smith report as far as I can. I bet you feel the same.’

  Singh sighed heavily. ‘I know. Good luck, sir.’

  MONDAY

  48

  ‘Vinaka vakalevu.’ The Pacific Collection librarian smiled warmly at Horseman as he delivered the borrowed books. ‘Not too many borrowers return on time these days. It’s getting so bad we’re considering stopping loans altogether. But the rare items shouldn’t be exposed to the photocopier flash, so what’s to be done?’

  Good, a chatty librarian.

  ‘I wonder if you could help me with interpreting this photocopied report, please?’ He leant his crutch against the counter and placed the Smith file between them.