A Plot to Die For (A Ghostwriter Mystery)

by C. A. Larmer

  Roxy stared at her, stunned. “So you really did see Abi? When was that?”

  “She walk through here, no look good, say she need fresh air. About quarter past six. I try to stop her, Miss. She look real bad. Tell me she been sick, ask me to clean her room. I tell her, no walk today, Missus! You go back to bed! But she no listen, she say she must walk today. Very important.”

  “Did she say that, ‘very important’?”

  “Yes.” Mary hissed. “She too stubborn Miss Abi. But I should stop her, I should not let her go.”

  Roxy squeezed the local woman’s hand. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault, you weren’t to know.”

  At that moment Doc arrived and Mary hurried off to attend to him while Roxy’s brain started whirring into motion. She didn’t need the forensics report to know, now, that Abi must have been killed some time between 6.20am, just after Mary had seen her, and 7.50am when Roxy had discovered the body. It was a relatively small window of opportunity, but a window nonetheless. And as far as she could tell there were at least a few people up and about at that hour. Not only were the villagers up then, so were the Zimmermans, and so was Joshua. She wondered about him.

  Doc arrived at her table and took the seat opposite her. He looked like he hadn’t slept well. His eyes were puffy, and his face unshaven.

  “This is a late morning for you, Doc,” Roxy said.

  “I could say the same about you, my dear,” he replied.

  “To be honest, I’m a fraud. Late mornings are much more my style. Abi was the only reason I was dragging myself up at the crack of dawn.”

  The mention of Abi’s name brought a lull to the conversation and Doc concentrated on his grape fruit for a while. Roxy felt sorry for him, too. His best friend had been taken so savagely and yet he’d remained stoic throughout.

  She waited a few moments before asking gently, “So what happens to you now?”

  He placed his spoon down. “It’s in the lap of the Gods I’m afraid. And Helen of course. But I’ll be fine my dear, don’t you worry about me. I would think you are in a mighty hurry to get away and back to your life now?”

  “No, not really. I mean, yes, it’s been a real shock, but there’s worse places to ride the storm.”

  “Yes indeed. And something tells me you can hold yourself well in a storm.”

  “I guess so.”

  He took a tentative sip of his tea. “So, tell me your theories then?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Come now, my dear, a clever one like you. You must have a few theories.”

  Roxy chewed her bottom lip, wondering how far to trust him.

  “To be honest, Doc, I’m still trying to get it all straight in my head. Have you got a theory?”

  He placed his cup down. “Yes I do. I do indeed.”

  “Oh?”

  “Did you know Wade was here yesterday?”

  “Yes, we all saw him arrive.”

  “No, we saw him arrive for the second time.”

  He had that cat-got-the-canary look and Roxy frowned.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Only that our esteemed Governor came to Dormay much earlier yesterday morning. And completely neglected to mention it. To anyone.”

  Roxy’s eyes widened. “Really? How do you know?”

  Doc glanced around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard.

  “Maurice came to see me last night, just after coffee. He was most distressed, poor lad. He had seen Wade’s boat arrive at the jetty, just before sunrise—must have been about 5.45 yesterday morning. He didn’t know whether to mention it to the authorities. Didn’t want to stitch up Wade for some reason. God knows why, Wade’s been pointing the finger at him and his lot from the start. Still, I told him he must speak with the police at his first opportunity.”

  “Hang on a minute, you say he saw Wade’s boat at the jetty? Just near the hotel? You’re sure he didn’t mean near the airstrip?”

  “No, no, he said he was out fishing at main beach, on the southern side, and saw it come in from the direction of the mainland, heading towards the jetty. Why?”

  Roxy hesitated. “Because Helen told me that a local child had heard a boat out near the airstrip at about the same time.”

  “Couldn’t be. That’s the other side of the island. The child must have been mistaken.”

  “Hm, possibly, unless there were two boats, of course. And you say Maurice definitely saw Wade’s boat?”

  “That’s what he tells me.”

  “But did he actually see Wade, or just his boat?”

  Doc smiled and wagged his finger at her. “See! You’re too smart for this lot. Indeed, Maurice says he did not actually see Wade, per se, just the boat. He couldn’t see the jetty from where he was standing, plus it was very early. It seems Maurice considered shooting across to the jetty to help him tie up but got a nibble on his line so kept fishing. He says he didn’t think any more of it until he heard the boat taking off again, about 20 minutes later.”

  “That’s a fleeting visit. And it was definitely Wade’s boat?”

  “As far as he could tell. I wouldn’t put it past Wade, though.” He leaned in again. “It seems pretty open and shut to me.”

  “Oh?”

  “Wade must have snuck in early, skirted around main beach to the other side, then hidden in the bushes near the track, knowing too well that our Abi would be on her morning walk. He encountered her and did the deed.”

  “He’d have to be quick. It doesn’t sound like he was here for long. Could he really have tied up a boat, bolted to the other side of the hotel, miraculously run into Abi, killed her, buried her, and bolted back again in such a short time? And all without being spotted?”

  “What if he had planned to meet Abi? Had timed it to perfection?”

  Roxy considered this for a few moments while they ate their breakfast in silence.

  Eventually, wondering how much the doctor knew, she said, “Why do you think Wade would do such a thing?”

  “A dozen reasons!” He lowered his voice again. “For starters, he’s had his eye on this island ever since he got to the region.”

  “So I hear. When did he get here, exactly?”

  “Oh, about 20 years back, I believe. Abi had already come, taken the pick of the islands and he was left with the dregs. This might be a lovely area but most of the place is infested with sandflies. For some unknown reason Dormay is quite immune.”

  “Yes, Abi was lucky wasn’t she?”

  “Luck had nought to do with it! Abi was smart, she knew a good investment when she saw one, and Wade has coveted Dormay from the start. Constantly hassling her to sell up or let him come in as a partner. Said she was wasting the place. He was determined to turn this wonderful old hotel into some kind of trashy resort, complete with beach huts, pools, jacuzzis, the lot!”

  “Sounds glamorous,” said Roxy.

  “Sounds obscene! Of course Abi was having none of it. ‘Over my dead body,’ she said.”

  He caught himself then and looked down. “Oh dear... oh dear.”

  Roxy placed one hand on his shoulder. “Well, if it was Wade, then he’ll get found out soon enough. The police will be back today so Maurice needs to see them and let them know the minute they arrive.”

  In fact, the mainland police were already on the island and had established a new headquarters on the small veranda at the entrance to the hotel. No sooner had she finished breakfast, than she was being ushered into another interview with Chief Davara. As Roxy took her seat across from him, facing the ocean, that pang of guilt hit her again and she wondered whether Helen had managed to chat to him yet about her little PI job. If so, he was giving nothing away. He had his notepad and a pen before him.

  “I have a few more questions for you, plis,” he said and she nodded for him to continue. “I must ask you, did Mrs Lilton ever discuss the future of Dormay with you? In your interviews?”

  This took Roxy by surprise. “How do you mean?”

  “D
id she say to you what she will be doing with the island when she has passed away?”

  “No, not really. I mean, she obviously felt indebted to the locals, said she was going to dedicate the book to them, but I guess I always assumed it would go to Helen. Why? Helen is in the will isn’t she?”

  “Oh yes, yes, Miss Lilton is very much the main beneficiary of Dormay. That is true. I saw the will yesterday. But what I want to know is: did Mrs Lilton ever tell you that she had changed her mind about this? That she had other plans for the island?”

  Roxy tried to think back. “Well, I do recall her saying something kind of related to that. I can pull the tapes out and go through them. But that could take a while.”

  “Try to think now, plis, if you can.”

  His deep brown eyes implored her, so she thought some more.

  “Let’s see...,” she sat back and started whirring her brain cells into gear. “Okay, so, first she told me she loved the place, loved the people—really that goes without saying, it was so obvious to me from the start. Um, that’s right... then she said something about needing to do the best thing by the island. No, not the best thing, the right thing. She needed to do the right thing. When I asked her what she meant by that she wouldn’t elaborate, said she had to talk to someone first before she could explain it all to me. I’m pretty sure she meant Helen.”

  “Why do you think this?”

  “Because, you see, Helen was still cranky at being left out of the loop about the autobiography. Abi had told Doc she was writing the book but didn’t bother to inform her daughter.”

  “So Helen was angry?”

  “Yes... but not viciously so. She was more disappointed than anything.”

  “Did Mrs Lilton talk to Helen? About ‘doing the right thing’? Do you know?”

  “I have no idea. Look, what is all this about? It would really help to know.”

  The Chief paused a moment, clearly puzzling over something.

  Finally, he said, “I think you can be trusted. Certainly Miss Lilton thinks you can. She has mentioned her little job for you. She thinks you would make a good investigator.”

  Roxy blushed. “Look, I really don’t want to tread on your toes—”

  “It does not matter to me, Miss Parker, if you are playing detective. If this is what Miss Lilton wants, then so be it. But I have done some investigating of my own and it seems that Mrs Lilton had an appointment with her lawyer the afternoon of her death.”

  “Yes, Abi mentioned something like that,” said Roxy. And then her eyes widened. “You think she was going to change her will! But why? And how?”

  The police chief shrugged. “We can not know now for sure. But I do know that Mrs Lilton had earlier in the week met with the Lands Commissioner, the man who is responsible for the leases in this region, and she had made some enquiries about Dormay.”

  “What sort of enquiries?”

  “She had discussed land rights in some detail. The Commissioner got the impression that Mrs Lilton was considering whether the local villagers were really the rightful owners of Dormay.”

  Roxy sat back with a thud. This had caught her completely off guard, and yet, somewhere in the back of her brain, a bell was ringing. Clanging, in fact. She just couldn’t work out why.

  So she asked, “Did the locals have a land rights request in?”

  “No, no. The Commissioner tells me there were no submissions from the villagers. There has been, many decades ago, but nothing recent. No, it seems strange to me, but Mrs Lilton was doing the enquiring for them. This is most peculiar. Most expatriates, they want to hold onto their land, they do not want to give it back to the people.”

  Roxy studied his face then, looking for signs of the fanaticism that Helen spoke about, but the Chief was giving nothing away.

  Eventually, she said, “Yes, well that does fit with what she was saying to me in the interview, about doing ‘what’s right’. Perhaps she really was going to sign it over to them. Still, I can’t help thinking how disappointed Helen would have been.”

  Her eyes widened again. “Oh. You don’t think Helen killed her mother to stop her changing the will?”

  He held his hands up. “I do not know yet what I think, Miss Parker. Let us not get too carried away, too early. At this point, we do not even know if Miss Lilton knew of her mother’s meeting with the Commissioner. She may have had no idea of the fact that Mrs Lilton was considering leaving Dormay to the locals. Indeed, we can not know for sure if that was what she was going to do.”

  Roxy’s hands flew to her lips. The clanging bell had finally reached fever pitch. “Actually, Chief Davara, I think we do.”

  He looked at her puzzled.

  “At the same time that Abi was giving me her last interview, Helen was looking up land rights online.”

  She took a deep breath and explained how she had happened upon Helen in the library, how Helen had hastily shut down the page and how Roxy had accidentally opened it to discover an Australian government website on traditional land leases. The Chief scribbled away.

  “This is most interesting, most interesting,” said the Chief. “Tell me, was Helen using the main computer in the hotel?”

  “Yes, you can go and check the web browser’s history, you’ll find the page there. In any case, even if she was looking it up for some unrelated reason, and I can’t think what, it’s likely her mother did tell her about it. Helen and Abi had a meeting together that evening before she died. Doc told me, over cocktails, that they’d been at it for hours. I assumed it had something to do with the book. Now, well, I realise she had much bigger fish to fry.”

  The Chief looked at Roxy, confused. “She was frying fish that night?”

  “No, sorry, that’s just a figure of speech.”

  He let it drop. “So tell me, plis, did you see Miss Lilton after this ‘meeting’ with her mother? And how was she?”

  Roxy hesitated. Despite Helen’s frosty ways, she’d grown on the writer and she wasn’t yet willing to point the finger even more firmly in Helen’s direction. But it needed to be said. The Chief was watching her, waiting patiently, his pen poised.

  “When they joined us for dinner Helen wasn’t happy, that’s for sure. I remember one of the staffers, Popeye I think, ruined the entrees and she was pretty irate. Or not so much irate, more, um, unsurprised. She gave her mum a little lecture about how the staff would destroy the hotel in the end. I just thought she was being melodramatic. I mean, dropping a few plates isn’t going to ruin a hotel. But of course if Abi was going to leave it to the locals, that would be a whole different story.”

  “Yes, yes, a whole different story.”

  Roxy felt her heart sinking. “I know it’s not looking good for Helen but I honestly can’t imagine her killing her mother, and leaving her body like that.”

  “It is too early to say but you must know, Miss Parker, that people do crazy things sometimes to the people they love. Love and hate, it is a very fine line.”

  And an overused cliché, she thought, letting it drop.

  “You’re right, I know that, but surely, if Helen knew about Abi’s plans, others might have, too. I mean, Helen wouldn’t be the only one to lose out if the island went back to the people.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Again Roxy hesitated, and then told him of how Wade had mentioned meeting with the Lands Commissioner over dinner that first night, and of how he had wanted to speak with Helen urgently. Perhaps he had found out about Abi’s plans and revealed all to her daughter.

  “Look, I don’t want to land anyone in it, but I heard there were a few boats about that morning—”

  He cut her off. “I know about Mr Thomas’s boat, Miss Parker. I am heading back to the mainland very soon to question the Governor.”

  “And the other boat? The one the village kid heard?”

  He shrugged. “That one we are not so sure about.” He smiled. “You have been busy with your investigating.”

  “Sorry, can’t h
elp myself. Just tell me you’ll look into it further before you hoick Helen off in chains.”

  He smiled again. “No one is ‘hoicking’ anyone away yet Miss Parker. We still do not have the autopsy results.”

  “That’s slow.”

  “That’s our country. I am expecting them in a day or two. We haven’t even established cause of death yet so, no, no, I will tread carefully for now. And, Miss Parker?”

  “Yes?”

  “You need to tread carefully, too. If you are doing the digging, as Helen tells me, then you must be careful. I can not stop you from asking people questions, but I need to warn you, plis. This is no game. This is real life and one person has been killed. There is nothing to stop the murderer from killing again.”

  She looked at him and shuddered. He was right of course. If there was one thing she’d learned in her time, it was that no matter who it was—Helen, Wade, even the charming Luc—once a murderer, always a murderer. If they thought Roxy was getting close, they would not hesitate to strike again.

  Chapter 13

  After chatting with the police chief Roxy considered heading to the beach when a better idea struck her. She grabbed a cool drink from the dining room and made a beeline for the hotel library. Once at the computer, she logged in to the web browser, looked around quickly, then took her cursor to the top of the page, to the word ‘History’ and scrolled down. She needed to double-check that Land Rights page, to make sure she hadn’t conjured up the whole thing.

  When she got to the day in question, Tuesday, the day before Abi died, Roxy quickly went through the various web pages that had been opened up that day. There was quite a collection, everything from airline websites to news pages, including a Swiss one called Zurichsee-Zeitung. There was a Wikipedia site on Indian Tonic Water and several health websites, including one on tropical diseases. And, yes, even a few on Roxy Parker herself. Helen wasn’t kidding when she said she’d done her research. Eventually, Roxy located the one she’d used, twice, to email from, and took that as her guide. Just below it, in plain print was the AusAid site, the one on territorial land rights, the one that proved that Helen knew at least something of her mother’s plans to give the island back to the locals.