Amber StClaire And The Beast Of Sanur

by Brooke Dark

  Amber sits. Her breath is calm. Her eyes are shut. She has shrugged her spectral state. The colour has returned to her skin. The flesh has returned to her body. The fungus has wilted.

  She has ascertained that the girl’s spirit does not linger here… Yet Amber feels the ripples, pain… terror… angst… sadness…

  She fetches pink frangipani flowers. Their scent, exotic, pungent, sweet. She lays them upon the earth. Where the girl took her last breath. She dips her head. She whispers a prayer for the girl’s spirit.

  ♥

  ~ CHAPTER THREE ~

  REGRETS

  There’s no-one in front of her. No-one behind. She begins her walk back to her hotel. As she does, she cannot help but notice Misaki, the Japanese girl, still sitting on the beach.

  She’s alone now. Rokuro, her fiancé, nowhere in sight.

  Once more, the girl’s thoughts find their way into Amber’s mind. They are sad, lonely thoughts… Thoughts no-one deserves to endure on their holiday.

  Amber cannot help feeling a sense of sorrow for the girl’s predicament. No matter how hard she tries to ignore it, no matter how hard she tries pressing onwards, she continues to hear Misaki’s voice. Over and over in her mind.

  The girl is missing someone, Amber senses. A love… a woman. Reina. Somewhere in Japan… Miyazaki Prefecture. Rokuro was Misaki’s high school sweetheart, but the girl Reina has stolen Misaki’s heart… there was pressure for Misaki to except her engagement to Rokuro… by her parents, her grandparents, her friends, by tradition… they have had sex once… but… but she does not love him… she yearns for her love… her true love… Reina.

  Nonetheless, Misaki cannot help but feel she has let Rokuro down. She is making up her mind to try and love him. For the sake of her parents. Her grandparents. For the sake of tradition. After all, forbidden love shall only bring her family shame. Scorn. Ridicule. She ought to forget her desires. She ought to forget her love, Reina. She ought to try and find happiness somehow in her situation.

  Amber surveys the path behind and before her. In both directions it lies temporarily deserted. She removes her sandals. Clasping them in her hand, she steps onto the warm sand.

  Misaki sits there. A forlorn figure. Gazing at the surf. There it crashes and roars against the reef. She becomes aware of a presence beside her. She feels it isn’t Rokuro. The presence is soft. Calm. A vessel of peace. Lately Rokuro has been one of anger.

  She looks up. A western woman stands there. Gazing down at her. A western woman who now kneels down in the sand before her. Watching her.

  Their eyes do not leave each other’s. At first Misaki feels confused. About who this woman is. About what she’s doing here, kneeling so close to her. At first she thinks it must be a staff member from her hotel. Maybe Rokuro has gone and done something. Broken something in his anger. Or maybe he’s hurt himself…

  No, she’s not from the hotel. That much is obvious. Yet Misaki can’t help but feel there’s something curious about this woman. Something serene. Something angelic. Something gentle. Her head is tilted ever so slightly. Tender green eyes look back at her. Deep sympathy rests in those eyes. Empathy.

  So beautiful, Misaki thinks. So beautiful. This woman’s skin. Her lips. Her eyes. Who is she? Why has she come to me?

  Amber. Speechless. Takes in the sheer stunning beauty before her. Misaki’s long black hair. Tied in a ponytail. Draped over one shoulder. Tears dry in stunning Japanese eyes. Skin so white and fair. So soft and unblemished. The girl sits on her beach towel, on one thigh, her feet and toes curled around behind her. She is dressed in but a lime green bikini. Nothing more.

  ‘I don’t mean to impose,’ Amber says softly, offering her hand to Misaki. ‘My name is Amber. I sense… I sense that you are lonely. I just wanted to see if you’re okay.’

  Misaki speaks only basic English. Yet somehow she understands Amber completely. This intrigues her greatly.

  ‘My name Misaki.’ She shakes Amber’s hand. Then finds that she does not release it. The two women have not looked away from each other’s eyes. A mutual fascination grips them both. Misaki is confounded why. ‘I… yes.’ She laughs embarrassed, confused about what is happening. ‘I do feel ronely right now actuarry.’

  Amber nods, as if to say, It’s okay, I’m with you now, I understand. ‘You have a love back home. Reina.’

  Misaki frowns deeply. The fingers of her free hand are clasped across her mouth in quiet astonishment. How could this woman know?

  ‘You miss her terribly.’

  Somehow Misaki feels this woman knows her, her deepest secrets. For some reason it does not alarm her. Instead she finds herself warming to this woman. Finds herself yearning to give herself over to this woman. For the life of her she cannot fathom how, nor why. Is it desperation? Loneliness? She replies in Japanese. ‘Yes. Yes… how do you know this?’

  ‘I just know. You have loved her since the day you met her. Yet you cannot express this, for fear of what it could mean in the face of your family.’

  A small tear fills the corner of Misaki’s eye. ‘But how can you know this?’

  ‘I don’t know how. Or why. But I hear things sometimes. See things that others can’t. All I can say is I was walking by, back there on the path, and your inner voice seemed to call out to me.’

  Misaki wipes the tear from the top of her cheek. When she speaks, she does so in Japanese, though Amber understands it all. ‘Yes. I have a secret love. Yes, her name is Reina. But I have recently become engaged to a man. Rokuro. Though I realise now I do not love him. And I do not know how to tell him. He grows angry with me for not letting him touch me. I tell him I want to wait for our wedding day. That I want to be traditional. He is very successful in business. My family want me to marry him so that I do not have to worry about my financial future.’ Another tear fills her eyes. She shrugs. ‘Maybe they are right. Maybe I should listen to them.’

  Amber watches her calmly, nodding. She says, ‘I hear you. They make a lot of sense. We live in a heartless, capitalist world. I do not begrudge anyone for doing what they need to do in order to stay afloat in it. So I guess it’s a question of happiness. Will you be happy with him in the knowledge that you might be financially secure? Or might you grow miserable knowing that you ignored your heart?’

  Misaki wipes her tear. A quiet sob escapes her. ‘I do not know.’

  ‘You live but once, Misaki. Life is too short. Be kind to yourself, follow your heart. Yes, there will be short term pain. Though I see a future where you will be financially secure without Rokuro.’

  Misaki blinks at her. A renewed look of hope in her eyes. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. Go home to your Reina. If you love her… if she is your love… then love her.’

  A tear trickles from Misaki’s eye. She reaches out her hand and touches Amber’s cheek. ‘Who are you? How do you know all of this?’

  Amber shakes her head. ‘There’s much I do not understand. Yet, I believe I have been blessed with a strange gift.’ She holds Misaki’s hand. ‘Have you felt the touch of your Reina? Have you not felt the touch of a woman?’

  Misaki shakes her head. More tears fall.

  Amber senses she has ten minutes before Rokuro returns. Maybe fifteen. She senses there might be five to seven minutes before another holiday maker comes along the beach path. ‘Would you like… would you like to see how it might feel?’

  Misaki frowns. Curious.

  Amber comes forward. Her own hand touches the side of Misaki’s head, her delicate ear, her luscious hair. There’s a delicious scent to Misaki. Faint. Understated, yet alluring. Almond and orange peel. As if she recently stepped from a bath.

  Amber watches Misaki. Their mouths are no more than four inches adrift. Amber feels a primal urge. To kiss her.

  More importantly, she feels the same desire from Misaki.

  Eventually… slowly… gently… their mouths come together.

  At first their kiss is soft. Though Amber senses the pent up ener
gy within Misaki. The caged passion. She realises Misaki has not had the opportunity to release it. Ever. Amber shuffles closer to the Japanese woman. Her knees either side of her in the sand, one knee beneath Misaki’s thigh. One hand still gently clasping Misaki’s face. The other hand she places on Misaki’s hip.

  Misaki now holds Amber. Her hands either side of her ribs. Before sliding them up behind Amber’s shoulders. She leans into Amber. Pulling Amber to her. The swell of their breasts touch.

  Their kiss grows in passion.

  Then as if sensing the other’s thoughts, as if sensing they are tracking too fast, they stop and gaze at each other’s eyes once more. To gauge the other’s thoughts.

  A moment or two passes. Ever so slightly, Misaki smiles.

  Amber reflects it and glides her fingers over Misaki’s hip. She senses that Misaki would like Amber to touch her. Caress her.

  Slowly Amber runs her fingers down Misaki’s inner thigh. To the soft swell of her groin. All the while she gazes into Misaki’s eyes.

  Misaki’s smile fades. Replaced with a look of sheer, unbridled lust. Her eyelids almost shut.

  Amber presses softly. Sliding her fingers up and down the soft swell of Misaki’s groin. Slowly.

  Misaki swallows. Momentarily her eyes shut. They open again. Never leaving Amber’s. Misaki’s thighs part slightly. An inviting gesture.

  Amber continues to caress her through the thin fabric of Misaki’s bikini briefs; her middle finger finding the groove in Misaki’s flesh.

  Misaki’s lips part. Her breath is shorter. Her tongue moistening her mouth. She has never had a woman touch her like this. She has but only dreamed of this. Her dreams were no match for reality. She never thought her body could elicit such pleasure.

  Once more she pushes her mouth against Amber’s. Their kiss is hot and wet.

  Amber finds the edge of Misaki’s bikini. Slides her finger beneath it. Touching the soft flesh. She slides in a second finger. Rubs them around the delicate fleshy folds. Locating the clitoral bump and fingering both sides of it. Misaki shudders. Her pussy is moist. Amber slides a finger inside her with ease, though the opening is tight. Misaki arches her head back. She shivers. Moans. Gasps.

  Amber watches her. Her vulnerable neck exposed. Her chin pushed upwards. Amber draws moisture from Misaki’s labia, uses it to rub her clit.

  Misaki’s hips are already moving. Back and forth, her body quivering. Her breasts beneath her bikini top shake. One hand grips Amber’s. The other is white knuckled, clawing the beach sand. Her eyes are shut. Her body still arched. One final gasp, a long gasp, a sharp intake of breath, holds it, holds it… and then her body gives over to waves of pleasure gushing from her groin, outwards in shuddering waves, down her thighs, through her hips.

  Her body falls backwards into the sand. Her eyes are jammed shut. Her teeth are gritted. Aftershocks of pleasure ripple through her. Making her muscles pulse. Her thighs clench inward as her muscles contract. Then relax. Contract. Relax. A rhythm that lasts for what feels like a minute, slowly fading… slowly… fading…

  She breathes again.

  Amber watches her. Misaki opens her eyes at last. She stares at the sky. A mild sweat dampens her cheeks, her bare belly, her thighs, her forehead.

  She swallows again. Her hand still clasps Amber’s. It begins to relax now. So too her fingers in the sand.

  After Misaki has composed herself, after her legs and belly have stopped quivering, she sits up with Amber’s help. They eye each other once more. A smile passes between them both.

  ‘Who are you?’ Misaki whispers again. ‘Are you an angel?’

  ‘I am Amber StClaire.’ Amber smiles and touches Misaki’s cheek. ‘I am no angel. Though I best leave now. Your Rokuro returns to talk. You fly home to Japan in two days. Enjoy the remainder of your holiday. Remember though, Reina awaits you. I cannot tell you what to do. I simply hope I have shown you what your future might be like with the girl whom you love.’

  Misaki leans forward. Gently she moves her mouth to Amber’s. They kiss. One last time. ‘Thank you,’ she says. ‘Arigatou gozaimasu.’

  At the beach path Amber turns and gazes back at Misaki. Through the sand Rokuro strolls toward his fiancé.

  ♥

  ~ CHAPTER FOUR ~

  BRATA

  Inspector Brata waits in the foyer beside Garuda. Checking texts on his cell phone. Waiting…

  Amber knows him. From photos. A shortish man in person. A cheerful face. Smile-lines crease the corners of his eyes. He is not in uniform. Instead he wears grey trousers with shining black shoes, and a white button up shirt. A pen is clipped to the inside of his shirt pocket beside a packet of cigarettes. His black hair is combed neatly. A side part. Strands of grey run through it. Beginning to bald on his crown.

  ‘Inspector Brata,’ she says as she approaches. He turns. He smiles. A gold cap on one of his teeth.

  ‘Amber StClaire?’

  She nods.

  He holds out his hand. ‘Salamat siang,’ he says, ‘Apa kabar?’

  They shake. He looks only at her face.

  ‘Apa kabar?’ she says. How are you?

  ‘I’m fine. How woss your flight?’ he asks, a heavy accent in his voice.

  ‘Long. I’m glad to be here at last.’

  ‘Your first time to Bali?’ He has a humble nature about him. Though his eyes show distinct authority.

  ‘Yes. It’s beautiful. What I’ve seen so far.’

  ‘Very good. I am happy to hear dis.’ He smiles widely. ‘So, you need to rest? Or we should get to business?’

  Amber considers her brief liaison with Misaki. ‘I am quite revitalised, thank you. I think if things are as urgent as you expressed over the phone then we ought to get down to business as soon as we can.’

  ‘Yes, I think dis iss a good idea. Okay so, in your email you said you want to visit da location where da body of each girl was found. You still want to start dis way?’

  ‘I do, yes.’

  ‘You will inspect their bodies at a later time?’

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps I won’t need to. I get quite a lot from surveying actual crime scenes, more so than visiting the deceased, I find.’

  ‘Really? Interesting. My officers have picked through each crime scene,’ he tells her. ‘I don’t know how much more you can find.’

  ‘I don’t exactly work conventionally,’ she tells him. ‘That’s probably the best way I can put it at this point.’

  Brata shrugs. ‘Okay. I leave it up to you. Da first victim woss killed not far from here. Da grounds of da Bali Sanur Resort. Maybe we start there if you like.’

  ‘Forgive me, but I have visited that location already.’

  His eyes widen. ‘Already?’

  ‘I got in over the wall on the beach front.’

  He looks puzzled. ‘You found da place where da body woss left?’

  Amber nods. ‘I did.’

  He eyes her quizzically. As if meaning to ask how she could know the position.

  ‘I get a feeling,’ she tells him, ‘about… certain things. Like I said, I don’t quite work conventionally.’

  He looks like he intends to ask about her methods. He wants to ask. For now though he refrains. ‘Very well. Den we visit da other ones.’ He indicates his car. Unmarked. They take the three or four steps down to the turn-around, into humid sunshine. He offers her the front passenger seat. Opening her door. ‘Thank you,’ she says. He waits for her to get in. Shuts her door.

  Cool air-conditioning blows from the dashboard vents. There is an odour of sun baked vinyl seats and spiced cigarettes. A lei of flowers swings from the rear vision mirror. Brata drives out into Jalan Danau Tamblingan, one of Sanur’s main streets. Several toots of his horn gives other road users the hint that he intends to merge, and he pulls out into the traffic. A scooter zips by with a dog sitting in the foot well.

  Brata speaks. Amber listens. So far all victims have been young women. Virgins. All of them local Balinese. Exc
ept for two foreigners. One woman from Holland, one from Russia.

  ‘I know I asked you this on the phone from Oxford,’ Amber says, ‘but you’ve reason to believe this is no conventional perpetrator? Otherwise I would not be here.’

  He takes a moment to answer. ‘My colleagues do not believe we need outside help. The ting is, if I am going to be perfectly honess, we are struggling to come to grips with the situation. No-one has any idea what iss killing these young women.’ He pauses. Goes on. ‘Of course, I have a vested interest in dis case. I have three daughters. My eldest, Ayu, will finish her schooling dis year. Next year she wish to go to university. Maybe she go to Jakarta where we live before I was transferred here to Bali, or maybe to Sydney. So far, I do not know. I might be a policeman but I am a caring father also. I fear for her safety. I want dis killer captured.’

  ‘Have there been any witnesses to the killings?’

  He considers this. ‘No-one has come forward. If people have seen anything, I tink maybe dey are too scared to come to us. One common ting we have heard is some people talk about seeing a strange old man. Or a strange old woman. You know, in da vicinity where da girl’s body woss found… usually sometime before da girl iss found dead. Dey say dis old man or woman ride a bicycle. If dis person actually exist den we do not know who it is. Or if dey have any actual connection to da murder.’ He goes quiet.

  Amber watches him. She senses there is something he wants to tell her but is somehow reluctant to. ‘You have seen it?’ she asks him. ‘You have seen it, haven’t you? The killer.’

  He looks across at her. Then looks back at the busy road ahead. A mangy dog stands on the road side. Chickens peck about the grassy verge of a vacant property. ‘Maybe.’ He sinks into his thoughts again for a few moments. Then continues. ‘Three weeks ago I have dinner with a colleague of mine, a man called Satri. He iss Police Chief Commissioner from Jakarta. One of our topic of conversation woss dees murders. I am having no luck on dis case and we were discussing extra resources. As I explain to Satri, I already have people working around da clock on dis case. But we have no good fortune so far.