A Plot to Die For (A Ghostwriter Mystery)

by C. A. Larmer

  “A miserable bastard all round, really,” she replied, finishing her coffee and also getting up to leave.

  “Morning, ladies!” Doc called out cheerfully as he entered the dining room.

  He was wearing an old, black Greek fisherman’s cap and tipped it at them as he spoke. Helen ignored him completely and walked away.

  “Hello, Doc,” Roxy said. “Everyone seems a bit surly this morning. Something in the air, perhaps?”

  Doc shrugged. “Don’t ask me, I just keep my head down and mind my own jolly business.”

  Roxy looked at him sideways. “Somehow I doubt that very much. Something tells me you know exactly what’s going on around here.”

  He laughed. “Very perceptive. I knew you were a clever one.”

  He helped himself to a selection of pastries and breads then followed her back to the veranda.

  “Mind if I join you, my dear?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Tell me, what’s on your schedule this morning? A spot of swimming? Some snorkelling perhaps?”

  “Sadly, I’m not really here for fun and games, I’m going to get cracking on this book.”

  “And you said you weren’t here for fun and games, tsk, tsk.”

  He paused to order some English Breakfast tea off Mary.

  “The Zimmermans took off already I suppose?”

  “Yes, ages ago, looking way too adventurous for me. It’s exhausting just watching them. So, come on, level with me. What’s the story with those two?”

  Doc slathered inches of jam on a piece of fresh bread.

  “They’re an odd couple that’s for sure. Own some kind of jewellery shop back in Geneva I believe. Have turned up twice in a row now, same time as last year with very little to say and far too much to do. Short of meal times, I haven’t seen them sit still since they got here. Busy, busy, busy.”

  “They must be fanatical divers. Is the reef really that good around here?”

  “It’s better than that. Thanks to Abigail it hasn’t been overfished or razed with dynamite like half the reef in the area. It’s as healthy today as the first day I saw it. But no, they don’t always dive. They seem fixated with the other side of the island, have taken long hikes through the area right around the strip. Probably do the dash up to the look-out and back every afternoon for all I know—it’s enough to give an old guy like me the shakes.”

  “Do they take the sail boat out, too?”

  “No, much too impatient for that. They’re into speed and efficiency by the look of them. Now, me, I’d much prefer to lounge about on a sundrenched deck, the wind slapping against the sail, the water breaking against the bow...”

  “Sounds poetic. I’d much prefer sitting on firm ground with a glass of merlot and a good book,” Roxy said with a laugh, and he laughed along.

  “Speaking of terra firma, what’s the look-out like? I noticed a map to it in my room. It’s called Abi’s Point, right? View must be amazing from up there.”

  “Best view on the island. I’m not sure you’ll want to haul your bottle of merlot up there, though. Damn hard climb, but it’s worth it. I used to gallop up it! Now, well, the heart’s not what it used to be. But we showed ’em there for a while didn’t we?”

  He patted the left side of his checked shirt as though chatting to a dear friend.

  “So how long have you been at Dormay, Doc?”

  The doctor sat back in his chair and thought about this for a while.

  “I guess I moved here about ten years back. I’m British-born, in case the old accent has you stumped, but I grew up in Melbourne. Had my own company there. A group of medical practices actually. Very profitable.”

  “Really? Why did you leave, then?”

  “Oh my dear, the heart doesn’t always keep up with the head. They said I’d drop dead within a year if I didn’t slow down and take stock. Bloody doctors!”

  He winked and took a bite of his bread, dribbling a little jam onto his cleanly shaven chin.

  “So you retired to Dormay?”

  “Yes indeed. Gave it all away for the Robinson Crusoe lifestyle.”

  “Sounds fabulous. Abi must have been happy to have an old friend around.”

  “Well, it took a bit of convincing I have to tell you, but she came round eventually. Now I like to think she does enjoy my company. I wasn’t always this useless, either. I used to oversee the boat trips, and the walks, although I’m not up for much of that now. And of course it helps to have a doctor about should a rich socialite suddenly come down with sunstroke. Quelle horreur!”

  “I’d imagine it’s been ideal for Abi,” Roxy said and then, noticing the time, picked up her sprig of pink coral and added, “Speaking of which, I’d better be off. We have a meeting in five.” She stopped, turned back. “Love your cap, by the way.”

  His craggy face broke into a wide smile and he tipped it at her again.

  Roxy dashed back to her room, placing the coral carefully on the window ledge, then collected her recording gear, notepad and pen. When she returned to the lobby she found Abi deep in conversation with Joshua, and the hotelier did not look happy.

  “Willie’s up to something, Joshy, I can smell it. The man is trouble.”

  She spotted the writer and said, “Ahh, here you are, Roxy. Josh, love, we’ll continue this later. Okay?”

  He glanced at Roxy and nodded. “Of course Abi, no probs. I’ll see you at lunch, hey?”

  “Trouble in paradise?” Roxy asked.

  “Nothing I can’t sort out,” she said, leading Roxy away from the main part of the hotel and out the northern end to the small patio with sweeping stone steps leading down the cliff to the beach.

  There was a shady nook at one end and a table had already been set up with iced water and fresh fruit. She indicated for Roxy to take a seat and then did so herself.

  “We can have a bit of privacy here,” Abi said, pouring them both a drink. “Now, where do we start?”

  Within minutes, Roxy had the elderly lady waxing lyrical about her childhood in Cairns. For an infamously private person Abi was opening up very easily and Roxy doubted it had anything to do with her honed interviewing technique. Instead, she guessed there was some specific reason Abi had decided to ‘tell all’ now. The woman was elderly but couldn’t have been much past 70. Was she sick, perhaps? Roxy studied her for signs of illness but came up short. She seemed positively glowing and, apart from the obvious hip problem, appeared to be in perfect health.

  What then, she wondered?

  “You are such a suspicious person, Roxanne!” she could hear her agent chiding her as he always did when her imagination ran wild, and she gave herself a little shake and refocused on the interview. Whatever Abi’s reasons, she would no doubt reveal them in good time.

  Two hours later, Abi reached for her cane and, after a slight wobble, stood up.

  “Rightio, that’ll have to do for now, love, I have some staff issues to sort out. I’ve arranged for Joshy to meet you back at the lobby. He’ll give you a proper tour of the island and answer any questions you have about that.”

  “Of course, thanks Abi. Did you want to reconnect after lunch some time?”

  “Yes, look, you do your own thing and I’ll come and find you around 3ish. Alright?”

  Roxy nodded and gathered her things, then followed Abi down the stone pathway and back into the hotel. There they ran into Maya who was just finishing breakfast.

  “Afternoon, Maya,” said Abi. “Hard at it as usual I see.”

  She didn’t wait for a reply but headed off to the kitchen.

  “Battle axe!” Maya hissed before turning to Roxy with a crooked smile.

  She was wearing pleated cream shorts belted at the front and a low plunging halter top that only emphasised her flat chest.

  “Getting on with your mysterious book then?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well, it looks like her Highness has given you a reprieve. Shall we hit the beach?”

>   “Sorry, no, I’ve got a date with Joshua.”

  “Really?!” Her blue eyes lit up.

  “He’s taking me for a tour of the island, Maya, we’re not heading to a shed to make out.”

  Maya giggled like a schoolgirl. “You wouldn’t have any luck anyway. You’re not exactly Joshua’s type.”

  “Oh? And what is Joshua’s type?”

  She placed one finger across her lips. “Let’s just say, he goes for ice maidens.”

  “In that case, I’m absolutely his type,” Roxy replied and Maya burst into peals of laughter again.

  “So what are you still doing around here anyway? I thought your husband said you were heading back to the mainland today?”

  Her smile dropped and she blew a stray strand of hair away from her face.

  “He can do whatever he likes. I am staying here where it’s much more my style. Have you been to the mainland?”

  “Just to catch my flight.”

  “That’s about the only place worth visiting—the airport! Urggh, the place is just awful. Hot, sticky, and boring as bat shit with all these awful vagrants following me around! No thank you, I’ll stick with Dormay. It’s a lot more fun. Speaking of which—have some!”

  She blew Roxy a kiss and sashayed past her, up the stairs.

  Roxy wondered if Maya had her own room on permanent reserve, then spotted Joshua waving to her from the front door and raced through the lobby to join him.

  “Good to go?” he asked, leading her down the stairs and into his 4WD.

  She jumped in and held on as he reversed the car and began hurtling back down the road they had arrived in on just the afternoon before.

  “Thought I’d take you for a tour of the coastline first, then we can head for the look-out.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She relaxed back into her seat, enjoying the icy air-conditioning and Joshua’s apparent inability to make small talk. They were heading in a south-easterly direction, back towards the airstrip, but hadn’t gone much beyond the small jetty when he slowed down at a clearing in the mangroves. He turned the car down a side track and towards a large sand dune in front of a totally separate beach she had not noticed from the road. He parked the car.

  “This is Taboo Beach, the surf beach,” he said, leaping out and racing around to open the door for her. “This is about the only part of the island worth bringing the boards to.”

  “What a pity I left mine behind then,” she joked, grappling through her handbag for her sunglasses and then following him along the sandy pathway and over the dunes. They stopped and both removed their shoes before stepping down onto the hot, white sand. The ocean was incredibly loud and the waves that rolled in were wild and erratic.

  “Not a great day for learners!” he yelled and pointed out to sea.

  Roxy spotted someone on a surfboard well out and she looked enquiringly back at Joshua.

  “Luc!” he said, and she was surprised.

  Gorgeous, artistic and athletic! What more could a woman want? Seconds later, she watched as a wave wiped him clean off his board and she heard Joshua laugh beside her.

  “Dunce!” he said, turning back to the car.

  They drove on, reaching the airstrip about 20 minutes later, but Joshua didn’t stop there. He continued driving, past the airstrip and back in a northerly direction towards the coast on the other side of the island. The road here was clearly less travelled, and he ploughed over fallen branches and through hanging vines, passing what looked like an old, dilapidated shed right on the beach front along the way. Its roof was covered almost entirely in a thick, tangled vine and there were several very faded orange life buoys hanging from its walls. She spotted some broken poles leading out from the shed into the shallow water of the bay.

  “What’s that?” Roxy called out.

  “Oh, just the old boatshed. We don’t use it now. There used to be a jetty there, too. It’s the one I was telling you about that got torn to shreds in Cyclone Yono.”

  “Why did you even have a jetty on this side of the island?”

  “Oh it was quite handy to be honest. Used to service the village and the airstrip—boats could meet up with planes. Couple of the neighbouring islands didn’t have their own strips so they used to use this one. ’Course most have their act together by now.”

  Joshua kept driving for a few more kilometres until they reached a fork in the road. He stopped and pointed to his left, back in the direction of the hill.

  “That’s the road to the look-out,” he said, then cranked the car into gear and chose the right-hand road. They didn’t drive for long before they came to a clearing where an assortment of grass huts were scattered.

  “This is the village, where most of the staff live,” he told her.

  Roxy spotted the ocean on one side and thick forest on the other.

  “How many staff are there?” she asked.

  “’Bout ten all up. There’s Maurice and his missus Mary, and Popeye and old Tara. They all work up at the hotel, well, except Tara these days—she’s getting on a bit. So’s Popeye of course but that doesn’t stop him. Then, there’s two groundsmen who also help out with the boats, driving guests to the strip, that kind of stuff. One’s Abe—that’s Popeye’s son, named after Abi—and a fairly new bloke called Willie. He used to work for Wade.”

  “Isn’t he the one Abi was griping about?”

  Joshua glanced across to her. “Willie? Oh he’s alright. Abi gets a bit neurotic sometimes. Anyway, you’ll see them both about the place. Oh and there’s also Patricia, that’s Abe’s missus. She’s the chef, and a top one at that. We really lucked out there. We bring in guest chefs from time to time, but to tell you the truth, I reckon Patricia pisses all over the lot of them. She’s a natural. There’s also a couple of young women who come from the mainland, they help clean the rooms, do the washing up, general domestic stuff.”

  “What’s with the name Popeye?” she asked.

  “He’s got a gammy eye, you didn’t notice?”

  She confessed she hadn’t. “He’s not offended by that nickname?”

  Joshua laughed. “Hardly. These people get called a lot worse by some of our guests.”

  “Oh?”

  He hesitated.

  “It’s okay, Joshua, I haven’t got my tape recorder on now.”

  He smiled. “It’s just that, you know, the rich and famous don’t exactly waste time with their Ps and Qs, man. They don’t have to be polite, do they? The world revolves around them, after all.”

  She’d clearly hit a raw nerve and waited for him to continue.

  “These people—my people—they put up with a lot of crap from Westerners who come here thinking they own the place, that they can do what they want with it, that we’re not good enough. But it’s not theirs to play God with is it?”

  He ran a hand brusquely through his hair.

  “Shit, sorry, man, I get a bit carried away.”

  “Fair enough. It’s the same story everywhere, Josh. Money talks.”

  “Blood oath it does.”

  He left it at that and steered the car slowly past the workers’ houses, which had been built in a traditional grass hut style. She spotted several small children racing out from the shade to wave hello and Joshua laughed, waving back.

  “They’re Mary and Maurice’s kids,” he told her and then, spotting several more appearing from the beach, “and those are Abe’s and Patricia’s.”

  Roxy waved, too, and couldn’t help laughing at their wide, delighted smiles.

  “Can we stop and say hello?” she asked.

  He looked surprised by this then glanced at his watch.

  “Better not, I gotta get you back for lunch. Abi’ll have my hide. But, you know, you can backtrack anytime you like to say hi. They’d love that. It’s just a short walk from the hotel. You walk east along main beach, there’s a clear pathway, you can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks, Joshua, I might just do that one day.”

  “
Really? Good.”

  He seemed genuinely pleased with this and she knew she’d struck a chord. Roxy wondered how many other guests had ever bothered to take the time to meet the locals. Judging from Joshua’s animosity, she suspected the numbers were low. He was clearly a proud man, even prouder of his people, and Roxy wondered how far his loathing for the rich and famous guests extended. It must be hard to keep up the friendly façade when you have patronising and racist guests.

  Within minutes they had swung back around and were heading towards the fork in the road. This time, Joshua took the road that cut straight across the island and up towards Abi’s Point.

  “I’m just gonna take you to the base of the look-out,” he told her, cranking the car up a few gears to tackle the steep incline. “You can continue up to the look-out any time you like but, sorry, it’s almost midday so...”

  “No worries, Joshua.”

  The air grew rapidly cooler now that thick jungle was surrounding them and the road became muddy and slippery. He slowed down a little and then parked by a signpost that had directions to the top. They jumped out of the car again and within seconds Roxy was surrounded by mosquitoes.

  “They’re buggers up here,” he told her. “I’d get you some repellent but we’re not stopping for long.”

  “They don’t seem to be eating you alive,” she said, slapping at her arms and legs, and he laughed.

  “Yeah, sorry, man, something in my blood I reckon. They hate me. Always go for the juicy tourists though!”

  “They clearly have good taste.”

  “Anyway, this is the first stop for the walk. You continue along this trail and it winds its way up to the top. Takes about half an hour, an hour if you’re a lazy bastard, but it’s worth it. Awesome view from there, mate, awesome. You can walk to this point easily enough from the hotel, an easy 20-minute trek, or just ask one of us for a ride. Just don’t forget your water bottle—”

  “Ow!” she screamed, feeling another sting.

  “And some Rid repellent. You might need tropical-strength I’d say.” He chuckled. “I’m glad I’m amusing you so much.”

  “Sorry. They really do like you, eh? Come on, let’s get you back to the hotel.”

  She was never so relieved to hop back into Joshua’s vehicle and speed away.