by C. A. Larmer
“So, what happens to Abi’s Retreat now?” Ingrid asked eventually and for a few moments no one said a word.
Roxy wondered exactly who else knew of Abi’s meeting with the Lands Commissioner. Had this also become general knowledge?
“I heard that Abi was going to give it back to the locals,” Ingrid continued and at least one jaw dropped.
“The locals?!” said Maya, the only person around the table to look even remotely surprised. “How silly. As if!”
“How did you hear that?” asked Doc, ignoring her.
“The village people are all talking about it,” Ingrid replied, glaring at him defiantly. “They say she was going to make the will change before she died.”
“All gossip and innuendo, isn’t that right Doc?” Wade said, frowning hard at the doctor, but he shook his head sadly.
“Sorry, Wade, I really see no point pretending anymore. It is true, yes. Abigail was seriously considering handing the place back to the people. She mentioned it to me on several occasions.”
“No way!” squealed Maya, clearly delighting in this bit of gossip.
“That’s right—mentioned—but she didn’t actually do it, did she?” said Wade, also ignoring his wife. “So none of that matters a squat. The fact is Abi didn’t change her will. The place belongs to Helen. It’s Helen’s decision.”
“I’m sorry about Helen, I truly am,” Doc continued, “but you also have to consider Abigail’s wishes, what she wanted, before she died. Oh dear, it’s all so confounding. What do you think, Joshua? You’re a local.”
They all looked at Joshua who had been surprisingly quiet throughout. He glanced up from his mussels and shrugged.
“I dunno. I mean, yeah, I guess it’d be the right thing to hand it back, but then you gotta feel for Helen, too, eh? This is her home, you know. And she does a good job of running this place. I’d hate to see—”
He stopped, shrugged again and continued eating.
Doc’s eyes squinted. “You’ve changed your tune young man.”
Joshua looked up again. “Huh?”
“I thought you’d be firmly in the locals’ camp.”
“Yeah but Joshua’s not really a local, are you, Josh?” said Wade and the young man glared back at him.
“I’m more local than you’ll ever be, Governor,” he spat back.
Wade was unperturbed. “But you’re not strictly from Dormay are you? Weren’t you born on the mainland, at Beela?”
The penny dropped for Roxy then. “So that’s why Helen calls you Beela? I’ve been wondering about that.”
His jaw tightened. “My mum was originally from Beela but I came here as a baby. I’ve been brought up here and it’s my home.”
“Well, fair enough sweetie!” said Maya, one hand on her wine glass, the other still stroking her necklace. “Personally I have to be selfish and say that I desperately hope Abi’s Retreat remains exactly as it is. No offence, Joshy, but I really can’t see the locals running the place. Imagine it! Popeye holding court at the head of the table!”
She giggled at the thought and Doc coughed loudly as the man in question returned to fetch their plates. They all shifted uncomfortably and Joshua glared into his beer. Roxy decided that perhaps it was time to lighten the mood.
“That’s an interesting necklace you’re wearing, Maya,” she said and they all looked towards the black choker around her neck.
“Oh, this?” she said, attempting to peer down at it. “Wade gave it to me, for my birthday last month. Not sure if it’s quite me to be honest, but, well, Wadey tells me it’s precious, so...”
“Precious? It’s a bloody collector’s item!” Wade retorted.
“It is black coral by the looks of it,” said Ingrid. “I assume from this region, Wade?”
“You assume correctly. I got a local guy to knock it up into a necklace. Matching earrings, too.”
Maya smiled stiffly. “Mm, very attractive as you can imagine.”
“I think it eeze ugly,” said Luc now and Wade’s eyes darkened. “Why ’ave black coral when you can ’ave pink or purple or even gold? Black it eeze so ugly, non?”
Wade looked livid. “Because it’s rare you dickhead.”
“So? Eeet is rare. Pff! This does not make it beautiful.”
“I think it is very beautiful,” snapped Ingrid. “In my country this would fetch thousands of dollars.”
“So?” pressed Luc. “Again I say, this does not make eet beautiful. Eet just makes eet expensive. And stupidly so.”
Doc, clearly sensing more trouble to come, clapped his hands loudly and announced, “Okay, chappies, here are the mains. Let’s eat up and enjoy!”
Once again, they all settled into another stony silence as crispy red emperor and salads were dished out.
As Maurice placed the last plate before him, Doc asked quietly, “Has Helen requested any food this evening?”
Maurice shook his head.
“She will need to eat something. I think fish will be a bit much but perhaps you could rustle up some soup and bread. Get it up to her as soon as possible.”
Maurice nodded and returned to the kitchen.
As they ate their mains, Roxy yearned, suddenly, for a very large, very comforting glass of merlot, but held herself back. Instead, she studied the people around her. Unlike the previous evening, everyone was on tenterhooks tonight and it was not surprising. In the space of 24 hours, at least two people at this table had gone from grieving friend to chief suspects in that friend’s horrific murder. Another two were wondering whether their illicit affair was about to be blown wide open and a marriage ripped apart, and two more were clearly over this island and its hysterical occupants. Roxy did not doubt for one moment that the Zimmermans would be clear of the place the minute they got the chance.
Only the local staff were getting on quietly with the business of life, performing their jobs more diligently than ever. Yet it seemed to Roxy that they had lost more than anyone else here tonight. Not only had they loved Abi, they had depended on her. Their lives were now up in the air, and yet their feet were still firmly on the ground, serving Abi’s guests with dignity and grace. Roxy smiled warmly at Popeye as he refilled her water glass.
How much he must despise us self-centred white intruders, she thought sadly, and yet he offered her his wide, red smile anyway.
Just as they were finishing their mains, Maurice reappeared at the front of the restaurant, a tray of food in his hands.
“Excuse me, Doctor Spinks,” he said, and they all turned around to stare at him.
“What is it, Maurice?” asked Doc, a little impatiently.
“Miss Helen, I can not wake her sir. The door... it is locked.”
“She must be asleep.”
“I bang hard sir. She no open door.”
Doc and Joshua caught each other’s eyes then and both men stood up abruptly.
“What in the blazes is going on?” demanded Wade but they were halfway out of the dining room by then.
Roxy’s jaw dropped along with another penny. She jumped up and quickly followed the men out and through the lobby to the staircase. Joshua had passed Doc and was bounding up the stairs, three at a time, and within seconds had reached Helen’s door. He was banging on it loudly.
“Helen! Helen! It’s Joshua! Let me in!”
There was nothing but silence at the other end. Doc and Roxy had reached him by now and he turned back to Doc.
“You think she’s in trouble, don’t you?”
His eyes were frantic, his voice pleading.
Doc nodded solemnly. “We have to get in there.”
“I’ll get the spare key,” Josh said but Doc held him back. “No time, just break it open.” Joshua looked doubtful. “Now!”
The younger man stepped back and charged at the door. The lock broke easily and the door swung open to reveal nothing but darkness. Josh grappled for the light switch and Doc rushed to the bed.
Helen was lying face down in her silk
pyjamas, the sheets strewn around her, one arm hanging lifelessly over the side. There was the putrid smell of fresh vomit and several large patches of it on the floor.
“Helen!” Doc was saying, patting her hand, then her face. “Can you hear me? Helen!”
She didn’t wake up. He placed her in the recovery position on her side, reached for one arm and felt for a pulse. By now the rest of the group had joined Roxy at the door and they all held their breath.
Doc swung around to them. “Joshua, go to my room, get my medical bag.”
He pulled a key out of his trouser pocket and threw it at him. “Quickly! Roxy, cold water, a wipe, something.”
Roxy dashed into Helen’s bathroom to locate a facecloth and flooded it with water. Spotting an empty ice bucket, she grabbed that too and brought them back to Doc. “Is she... alive?” she asked.
He looked at her stricken. “I can’t get a pulse.”
There were several gasps from the door and Roxy looked back to find wide eyes and pale faces. Next, she surveyed the room. There was a bottle of whisky by the side of Helen’s bed and a glass. A small mouthful remained. Doc picked it up, smelt it and winced.
“What the hell’s going on?!” yelled Wade from the door and Doc held a hand up to silence him.
“Somebody fetch Popeye’s wife. She used to be a nurse.”
“I’ll do it,” Ingrid said firmly, passing Joshua as he ran back in with the doctor’s kit.
Doc reached for a hypodermic needle, a syringe and a small vile of clear liquid labelled MIN-I-JET. He filled the syringe with the adrenaline and injected it very slowly into one of her veins. They all held their breaths.
It seemed an interminably long time but of course it was less than a few minutes before Helen’s eyes shot open and she gasped, her chest heaving upwards before collapsing again. Audible relief could be heard from behind them.
“Stay with me, Helen,” Doc was saying loudly. “Come on, Helen, you can do it.”
The woman was groaning now, slipping in and out of consciousness, waking occasionally to vomit into the ice bucket Roxy held for her, then drifting into blackness again. By now, Joshua had ushered the others out and all that remained were Doc, Roxy and the patient.
“Quinine?” Roxy said and Doc nodded.
“Looks like it.”
“But who? Why?”
Before he could answer, Popeye’s wife, Tara, appeared at the door, a steaming pot in her hands. She was a tiny woman, stooped over a little with tightly curled grey hair and a traditionally tattooed face. She went straight to Helen and began stroking the woman’s cheek. She placed the pot to Helen’s lips and let a little of the dirty smelling liquid drop into her mouth, before placing it to the side and stroking her cheek again.
Doc took Roxy’s hand and led her outside where the rest of them were now scattered, leaning against the wall or perched on various steps. Most of the staff were there, too, including Popeye, Maurice, Mary, Patricia and a few of the older local children looking alarmed. They all stared at Doc anxiously.
“We need to get Helen to the hospital, she needs some charcoal and fast,” he told them all. “It’s touch and go.”
“We’ll use my boat,” Wade said and Doc nodded.
“I’ll come, too,” Joshua added.
“No! That won’t help,” Doc said firmly then softened his tone a little. “You need to stay here, with the guests. Wade, get your boat started. Maurice, help me carry Helen to the dock. We’ll also need Tara for the trip. The rest of you, please, go back downstairs. We need you out of the way and Helen on the mainland as quickly as possible.”
They all did as instructed and watched from the lobby as Helen was carried down the stairs, now quite conscious but wailing deliriously, Doc and Tara firmly by her side.
“Dark, so... dark...” she was moaning, her eyes rolling about, her mouth drooping open. They carried her gently out of the hotel and down towards the beach.
Less than 10 minutes later, the guests watched from the main veranda as Wade’s boat charged away from Dormay and towards the mainland.
Maya was sobbing again, Luc now at her side, while the Zimmermans simply stood watching silently. Roxy sighed and, spotting Mary standing meekly by the door, called her over.
“I know you’re not on duty, but any chance of some coffee? I can help you make it.”
“Yes, Miss, I can do it,” she said, clearly keen to have a purpose and set about making a plunger full of coffee. Roxy reached behind the counter and pulled out some cups. Maurice soon returned from the dock and helped out while the small group took their seats.
“I do not understand any of this,” Ingrid was saying. “Was Helen also poisoned?”
Roxy squished her lips to the side. “Looks like it.”
“But why?!”
“Maybe she tried to kill herself,” said Luc. “Maybe she was feeling ’ow you say—remorse.”
“What for? You don’t really think she killed her mother do you?” said Maya.
Joshua, who had been absent from the veranda, appeared at the door then. His face was stony, his eyes cold.
“She didn’t try to kill herself,” he said firmly. “No way. Not Helen. It’s not her... way.” He turned and walked back inside.
“But, but that means someone tried to kill her then,” said Maya. “That means...” She stopped short, not wanting to say what was on everyone’s minds.
Roxy took a cup of coffee from Mary and then followed Joshua into the lobby where he was now standing behind the front desk, staring at the phone. She offered him the coffee but he shook his head, no.
“Are you going to call your Uncle?” she asked.
He nodded this time but didn’t move. Just stood staring at the phone.
“I believe you,” Roxy said and he looked around at her.
“What?”
“I don’t think Helen tried to kill herself either.”
“But who would want to kill her? It’s so insane. Everything’s just gone mad. Mad.”
Roxy reached over and squeezed his arm.
“Call your uncle, then get to bed. There’s nothing more you can do tonight. Maybe things will be a whole lot better in the morning.”
He looked at her dumbfounded. “You’re kidding, right?”
Roxy didn’t know what more she could say to him. Yes, perhaps someone really did just try to take out Helen the way they tried to take out her mother. Perhaps it was just as well, then, that she was off Dormay and safe from further harm. But she couldn’t say any of this to the distraught man standing, staring forlornly at the phone. As far as he was concerned his world had just come crashing down around him. There was no silver lining. Everything was bleak.
Roxy eventually left him and returned to the veranda but everyone had dispersed and all that remained were some dirty coffee cups and the glistening black of the ocean beyond. She stepped out towards it, holding onto the railing as the wind gusted up and whipped across her face. She scanned the horizon, desperate to spot a flying fish. Helen had promised it would bring her good luck. Right now, Roxy figured, they could all do with some.
Chapter 16
Chief Davara was not a happy man. His usually smiling eyes and soft demeanour had been replaced by a deep frown and clear exasperation, and while he was speaking in the local language, it wasn’t hard to tell he was berating his nephew in no uncertain terms. Joshua was staring at the floor, not meeting his eyes. The young writer quietly slipped past them and into the dining room. The Zimmermans were just finishing off their breakfast.
“Come, join us,” Ingrid said, leaving no room for refusal and Roxy did so, asking Mary for an iced latte at the same time.
It was stinking hot, the hottest day so far, and, despite her lethargy, she didn’t think she could handle a hot beverage today. She glanced out at the beach and noticed that the sand looked scalding. The waves were barely ripples and there wasn’t a breeze to be found. She longed for the promised rain. Hell, she’d even put up with a min
i-cyclone, she thought. Anything to break the heat.
“You guys aren’t diving again this morning,” Roxy said.
“How can we dive at a time like this?” Ingrid replied, brushing a crumb from her perfectly ironed Polo shirt. Despite the sporty clothes, the Zimmermans were both adorned with an array of gold jewellery including thick gold necklaces and bracelets. Roxy noticed Ingrid had what looked like a large ruby on one finger and was twisting this over and over as she studied Roxy’s face. Bernard’s watch, also glittering gold, looked very expensive, like a Rolex. He leant forward.
“What is going on out there?”
“Chief Davara is giving Joshua a bit of a spray,” Roxy said. They stared at her blankly. “Basically, he’s very angry.”
Bernard looked alarmed. “But why is he so angry?”
“Dunno. Probably because he almost got himself another corpse last night. Speaking of which, does anyone know how Helen’s doing?”
Ingrid was nodding. “Yes, she will be fine. Doctor Spinks called Joshua this morning and says he will be back with Wade later. This was a scary night, no?”
“Yes, very scary, especially for Helen.”
“Tell us, what do you think is going on here?” said Bernard who was proving to be uncharacteristically chatty this morning. “Has this killer tried again?”
“I really don’t know. I guess you should ask Chief Davara that.”
Mary, looking worn out and worried, placed the iced coffee in front of Roxy and enquired about breakfast.
“I’ll just grab myself some fruit, thanks, Mary.”
The heat had stolen Roxy’s normally healthy appetite and she wondered what Maya ate on days like these. Alfalfa sprouts?
“So, when this is all over will you be heading straight back home? It’s Geneva isn’t it?”
“Yes we will,” said Ingrid, hooking into some ham and eggs. “We have a business to run. We were due to leave today so if we have to stay any longer things will get very difficult.”
“You’ve got a shop, right? You sell jewellery?”
Ingrid’s eyebrows rose sharply. “We design jewellery.” She dropped her fork and thrust her ring towards Roxy to admire. “It is much more than a shop.”
