by Morgana Best
“Then why are there candles on the table?” Benedict said. “There seem to be more candles than warranted, if you are simply trying to set up an ambience.”
Owen appeared to be quite taken aback at the remark. “If the power goes out, obviously I’ll have to go outside and flip the power over to the generator,” he explained. “During that time, there’ll be no lights or power at all, so it’s surely common sense to have candles burning as a precaution.”
Benedict glared at him, but I was more concerned about the prospect of the lights going out. If someone wanted to harm me, then a dark room would be the perfect place to do so. I needed to keep my wits about me, and for this reason I had declined the wine.
Abby stood up and nodded to her husband, who promptly sat down. “Please bear with us. We’re several staff members down, but that doesn’t mean we can’t continue as usual. After tonight, we will prepare each meal in the teaching kitchen, as usual. Because of the storm, the maids won’t be able to come tomorrow on the staff boat that passes by our island, and that will be the only inconvenience.”
The meal proved to be delicious, but the conversation was tense. Benedict continued to make snide remarks, which no one, apart from Laura, appeared to appreciate. He complained about the meal several times, and each time Owen’s face grew redder. Abby didn’t appear to mind, engrossed as she was with Michael.
“Vanessa, you look very like your sister,” Benedict said in a snarky tone.
Vanessa simply glared at him and did not respond. She was visibly upset by his remark. I thought it quite cruel of him to mention Vanessa’s deceased sister.
“You know, you’re…” he continued, addressing Vanessa once more, but he was interrupted by Owen.
“You’re Benedict Fletcher!” he said, standing abruptly.
Benedict laughed softly. “Of course I am. That is the name under which I have booked, is it not?” Laura laughed, too.
Owen’s cheeks puffed with anger. “You’re the famous food critic!”
Benedict smirked.
“How dare you come to our resort!”
Abby pulled on Owen’s sleeve, but he paid no attention. “You’ve ruined the reputation of many a cooking school with your nasty remarks.” Abby tugged on Owen’s sleeve harder, but he wrenched his arm away in what I guessed was a rare show of disobedience.
A supercilious expression swamped Benedict’s face. “Indeed, my article will be truly interesting this time. I shall comment on the amiable manner of the host and on the quality of the food, as well as the extra-curricular activities.” He said the word ‘quality’ with derision. “I hardly came under false pretenses.”
Owen approached Benedict’s chair in a belligerent manner. “I wasn’t expecting a famous food critic to come to Australia!”
Benedict appeared unperturbed by Owen’s proximity. “I’m conducting a tour of Australian cooking schools for my new book. I’ve heard a lot about your cooking school, and I’m here to see if the rumors are true.”
“But you’ll ruin us!” Owen said loudly, just as the windows shook in a sudden gust of wind.
Abby, clearly alarmed, hurried to position herself between the two men.
Benedict threw down his napkin with a flourish. “I am leaving!” he said as he stood. “Good night.” He hurried from the room.
The lights flickered and thunder boomed simultaneously. Abby turned to her husband. “Owen, we should serve dessert. Now!” They cleared the table and scurried from the room, whispering to each other. I clearly caught the words, ‘ruin us’ about five times.
More thunder and lightning accompanied their departure.
Laura pushed back her chair. “I’m scared of thunderstorms. I’ll go to my room. Goodnight. Please make my apologies to our hosts.”
I wondered if it was as plain to everyone else as it was to me exactly where she was headed—directly to Benedict’s room. I didn’t think there was much doubt, but it was none of my business.
“Are you all right?” Lisa asked Vanessa, who was furiously rubbing her temples.
Vanessa shook her head. “I have the beginnings of a headache. Nothing to worry about.” We all then sat in uncomfortable silence until Owen and Abby returned.
“Sorry we took so long,” Abby said when they finally did return, carrying desserts. “We were just, um…” Her voice trailed away. She deposited a heavenly looking dessert in front of me. “Caramelized lemon saffron tart with torched meringue. You’ll all learn how to make it later in the week.”
That was encouraging. I thought I would be good at torching the meringue—if I survived, that is. I still couldn’t imagine the type of danger I was in. Benedict was the only one so far to have made enemies. I would be careful to stay away from windows and doors in case the storm uprooted a tree and blew it inside the building. I had seen every Final Destination movie, so I wasn’t taking any chances.
When everyone had been served, Mandy said, “I forgot to charge my phone. Please excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
Owen stood up once more. “I forgot the flashlights. The electricity usually becomes intermittent in a storm, so please keep a flashlight with you during night hours.” His words were punctuated by such a loud clap of thunder that everybody jumped.
I had finished my dessert by the time he came back with the flashlights, and none too soon, as the lights were now flickering consistently.
“What took you so long?” Abby snapped.
“Just cleaning up,” he muttered.
Mandy returned to the table. “Oh, I’m so sorry, everyone’s finished their delicious dessert already. I got sidetracked and lost all track of time.” She immediately tucked into her dessert.
Owen rapidly ate his dessert, and then checked that all the flashlights were working. He took the batteries out of the only one that he said didn’t work properly and fiddled with them for ages. Abby was visibly annoyed. “I’ll clear the table while you’re doing that,” she snapped. “Would anyone like coffee?”
We all said that we would. Michael offered to help Abby, as did Lisa, but Abby declined her offer of help.
“We would usually have our coffee in another room,” Abby said when she and Michael had served everyone the coffee, “but the storm’s getting quite wild and it’s best if we stay together at this table with all the candles.”
Just then, the lights went out. I reached for my flashlight, and then froze. I was relieved to see that the candles provided sufficient light to see everyone. In fact, they provided more illumination than I had thought they would.
“Don’t worry,” Owen said. “The lights will probably come back on soon, so let’s just wait and see. I won’t go out to the generator house unless it’s clear that they’ll stay off.”
Vanessa stood up abruptly. “I’ll have to go and take some Advil,” she said. “Then I’ll come back and enjoy my coffee.”
The storm outside was wild, so wild that I thought the roof might come crashing in. I had never experienced a tropical storm before, but I took comfort in the fact that Owen and Abby had experienced many and did not appear the least bit concerned.
Lisa rubbed her arms. “I’m getting a little chilly,” she said. “I’ll just go to my room and get my wrap. I’ll be right back.”
With that, she too disappeared from the room. I wondered if she was coming down with the flu, because it was anything but chilly. Still, I was used to a cold climate and these people were likely used to the tropics.
I had finished my coffee by the time Vanessa returned. “Where’s Lisa?” she demanded to know.
I shrugged. “I’m sure she’s coming back. She said she was just going to get her wrap.”
“How long has she been gone?” Vanessa asked imperiously.
“She left just after you did.” I had no idea why it was so important to Vanessa.
Lisa walked in at that moment, but Vanessa barely looked at her.
I wondered if Vanessa was going to demand fresh coffee, when a torrential gust
of wind blew the shutters open with considerable force, and the candles went out.
Chapter 5
I was terrified. I heard, but did not see, at least one person running in the direction of the windows, and I heard the shutters slam shut. The howling in the room stopped, but the lights did not come back on. Just then, everyone in the room must have remembered their flashlights, because we all turned them on at once.
“It’s quite wild out there,” Owen said in something of an understatement. “I’ll just pop out to the generator shed and switch over to the generator.”
The rest of us sat at the table while the walls shook. The howling was now clearly audible in the room.
“This is just a typical tropical storm,” Abby said calmly. “Please don’t be alarmed. It will all pass by morning, or in a day or two.”
A day or two? Surely she couldn’t be serious.
“Anyway,” she continued, “we should all stay together until Owen gets the power back on. I know you all have flashlights, but it’s safer to wait for the power. The resort is set up for storms such as this, so when you return to your rooms, make sure that all the shutters are firmly latched. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you not to go outside until we give you the all clear.”
We all murmured our agreement.
“I hope Benedict and Laura are all right,” Michael said.
Abby nodded. “If they have any concerns, I’m sure they’ll come out and speak to us.”
“But they don’t have flashlights,” Michael pointed out.
Right then, the room reverberated violently, whether from the boom of thunder that had just cracked overhead or the gale-force wind, I had no idea.
Michael stood up. “I should go and check on them.”
Abby nodded. “Thanks, Michael. Here, take my flashlight and this spare one, and give them one each. Benedict’s room is quite close. It’s the closest room to the staff kitchen, number eight.”
The lights came on for a second and then went off just as Michael reached the far side of the room. I took it as a good sign that Owen was getting the generator working. I put my flashlight down on the table, and realized that all my muscles were tense. I made a concerted effort to relax, but, try as I might, I could not get Alder’s text out of my mind.
The shutters were now banging in a constant rhythm, and the howling wind outside sounded like something out of an old horror movie.
To my relief, the lights came back on, and did not flicker. Just as they did, Michael burst back into the room. His face was white and ashen and he was clutching his throat. Abby raced to him. “Whatever’s wrong, Michael?”
My first thought was that he was having a heart attack, and I wondered what would happen to him, considering the storm had stranded us on the island.
He pointed over his shoulder and tried to speak. We all left our seats and hurried over to him. “Benedict, Laura, Benedict, Laura,” he stuttered.
“Are they all right?” Abby asked him.
He shook his head. “No.”
Abby pushed past him and hurried down the hall, with the rest of us hard on her heels. Benedict’s door was open.
Abby was the first in the room, and I heard her gasp. I stuck my head around the door. Benedict was lying on his back with a large kitchen knife protruding from his chest, and Laura was in his bed. She, too, had been impaled with a kitchen knife.
I averted my eyes from the gruesome scene and stepped back into the corridor. The others did likewise. Michael, who appeared to have recovered quickly, took charge of the situation.
“Abby, do you have the key to this room?”
Abby stared ahead, her eyes glazed. Michael shook her gently and repeated the question.
“There’s a master key in the office.” Her voice trembled.
“Okay, you go and get it and then come back here.”
After Abby left, the others spoke, but all their words merged into mumbo jumbo to my ears. All were expressing surprise, wondering who could have done such a thing, but no-one commented on the fact that Laura was in Benedict’s bed. Their relationship must have been obvious to everyone.
I was dumbstruck. My first thought was that the murderer was standing, if not only feet away from me, then elsewhere on the island. The storm had isolated all of us, so unless there was someone on the island I did not know about, the murderer was either Abby or Owen, one of the guests, or the pool boy. The only person I could rule out with any certainty was myself. I leaned back against the doorpost for support.
Abby returned and made to lock the door, but Michael stopped her. “The police won’t be able to get to the island until the storm blows over, so we need to take photographs of the crime scene. I’ll do that now.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and went back into the room. I assumed he was taking photos with his phone, but I had no wish to watch. That was a sight I would never forget, and I did not want to see it a second time.
I had forgotten about Owen, until he appeared in the corridor. He was drenched. “What’s going on?” He looked genuinely surprised, so unless he was a good actor, perhaps I could rule him out as the perpetrator.
Michael came straight to the point. “Benedict and Laura have been murdered.”
Owen’s jaw dropped. “What?”
When no one said anything else, Owen marched into the room. He wasn’t in there long before he emerged white and shaken. “But who, who?”
No one had any response. Michael was the first to speak. “Owen, you and I should remove the bodies to the cool room, while Abby can take the ladies back to the dining room.”
“The cool room?” Mandy asked.
Michael nodded. “The police won’t be able to come until the storm blows over, so we can’t preserve the crime scene as it is. I suggest Owen and I take the bodies to the cool room, and then lock the door to preserve the crime scene as best we can for when the police actually do get here.”
I was grateful for his quick thinking.
“Actually, someone should stay at the door while we’re taking the, err, bodies to the cool room,” Michael added, “just so any evidence in there won’t be tampered with.”
“Who would tamper with any evidence?” Sarah asked.
“Why, the murderer of course,” Michael said. Mandy gasped, but he pressed on. “That’s why I suggest you all stay together, perhaps just down the corridor, to make sure no one goes into the room.”
“I’ve had an awful shock,” Sarah said haughtily. “I need to go and sit down. I need a brandy.”
Michael agreed. “That should be all right, but I insist at least three women remain.”
I knew where he was going with that statement. He suspected more than one person might be involved in the murder.
Abby led us to the end of the corridor and we all studiously looked the other way while Owen and Michael took the bodies out of the room one by one. As soon as they had left with the second body, Abby hurried back and locked the door. “Come on ladies, I think we all need a strong drink.”
I had to admire her. Her voice was shaking, but she was doing her best not to show that she was scared.
When we joined Sarah at the dining table, Abby lit the candles.
“Surely the power won’t go out again?” Sarah snapped.
Abby shook her head. “I’m sure it won’t, but I’m not taking any chances.”
I checked my phone out of habit. No service, but then again I hadn’t expected any.
“Amelia,” Abby said, “there won’t be any service here in the storm.”
“How will you call the police?” Vanessa spoke for the first time since the discovery of the body.
Owen, who just then was returning to the room with Michael, answered her. “That’s just it. I don’t know if we can call them.”
“You obviously can’t, you silly man,” Sarah snapped. “There is no cell service. We’re stranded here all alone on a desert island and one of us is a murderer!” She burst into hysterical tears.
/> I didn’t know whether to point out that it was a tropical island, not a desert island, or to slap her across her face to cure her hysteria. I wanted to do both, but in the end, I did neither, much to my regret.
“There’s usually service at the top of the hill,” Owen said evenly.
I spoke up. “Do you mean the mountain?” I thought of the hill I had seen upon my arrival that looked like a volcano covered with dense vegetation.
“It’s just a hill,” Owen said. “Even in the worst storm, we can usually get intermittent service up the top.”
“But isn’t it too dangerous to go outside in the storm?” I asked him.
“We have two tunnels,” Owen said, “quite big tunnels that were built many years ago, no doubt by pirates. The tunnels don’t continue all the way to the top of the hill, but they do go most of the way, and we will only be outside when we’re going the short distance from the end of one tunnel to the start of the other.”
“Who is this we?” Lisa asked him.
“Michael and I have just had a conversation about it, and we think we all need to stick together.”
Sarah pulled her hands from her eyes. “You’re afraid the murderer is going to pick us off one by one, aren’t you?” Her tone was still hysterical.
Michael shook his head. “I’m afraid there’s no nice way to put this, so I’ll come straight to the point. As you’ve said, this island is now cut off from the outside world. Yet someone murdered those two people. It’s one of us.”
“What about the pool boy?” I asked him.
“He went on the boat yesterday,” Michael said. “He was supposed to come back tomorrow on the staff boat that goes past here to the next group of islands.”
“There’s no one else living on the island?” I asked Owen.
Abby answered for him. “No, the island’s too small for that.”
The others fell silent for a moment, no doubt trying to digest, as I was, that one of us was a cold blooded killer.
“It’s dark now,” Michael said, “so I don’t think we should risk going to the top of the hill to call the police tonight. Let’s all go to our rooms and then meet back here in the morning to try to get a call out to the authorities.”
