A Plot to Die For (A Ghostwriter Mystery)

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A Plot to Die For (A Ghostwriter Mystery) Page 22

by C. A. Larmer


  He sniffed, wiped a tear from one eye. “But, yes, you’re right as always, Roxanne. I did have the means and opportunity.”

  “But why?” asked Helen, unconvinced. “Of everyone on this island Doc was my mother’s best friend. Why would he do such a thing, Roxy?”

  Doc shot Roxy a look of such trepidation that she couldn’t answer for a few moments.

  Eventually, not wanting to spill old family secrets here tonight, she said simply, “You’re right, Helen. No real motive that I can speak of. Which brings us to Maya and Luc.”

  Luc stood up indignantly and Maya looked scandalised.

  “Me!?” she said. “What have I got to do with any of this?! I haven’t done anything wrong!”

  Wade snorted beside her. “Except cheat on your bloody husband, of course.”

  “We’ve discussed that, Wade,” she hissed through crooked teeth. “I told you it won’t happen again. It was a mistake.”

  “A few months worth of mistakes by the sound of it,” he said, then glared at Roxy. “But she’s right. What’s Abi’s death got to do with Maya for God’s sake?”

  Roxy leaned against the veranda railing and took a quick sip of her wine.

  “A few days ago I overheard a conversation between Helen and Luc in which she warned him that Abi was not happy with his philandering, that she was about to have stern words with his benefactress. It got me thinking. Would Luc or even Maya kill Abi to stop her from revealing their affair?”

  “Ridiculous!” cried Luc, and Roxy nodded.

  “Yes, that’s what I thought, especially when I began to think about it like a French woman might. I just couldn’t imagine an elderly French widow being disturbed in the slightest by a younger, good-looking man’s affairs in a foreign land. She must, surely, expect that. I mean, I hate to play stereotypes, but, really.”

  “Exactly!” said Luc, looking pretty pleased with himself. “I told Helen this. I told her, eet will make no difference ’ow many lovers I ’ave.”

  “Ah yes,” said Roxy, not quite letting him off the hook yet, “but it would make a difference if you had a child to one of those lovers. That might make her angry. Supporting a stray lover is one thing, supporting his progeny, quite another.”

  Wade looked horrified at his wife and she sat forward with a start.

  “But... but, I’m not pregnant!” Maya blurted.

  “No,” said Helen, quietly. “But I am.”

  For a moment it was as though time stood still and even the crashing waves seemed suddenly quiet. Every eye had turned to stare first at Helen, and then, more tentatively, at Luc. It was Maya who finally broke the spell.

  “Luc?! Surely not... You? And Helen?”

  She looked disgusted by the thought and he shrugged slightly.

  “Oui,” he said eventually, and no sooner had he said it when a bottle smashed to the ground behind them. Roxy already knew who had dropped that bottle, she had been watching Joshua carefully through this exchange, waiting for the inevitable distress. Helen, too, had been watching and struggled to her feet, trying to get to him but he was holding one arm out, stiffly, like a stop sign.

  “Don’t you dare!” he said. “Don’t you fucking dare come near me.”

  “Oh Joshua, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really don’t know whose baby it is. Luc and I... we were just a fling. Hell, you and I were just a fling.”

  “We were more than that!”

  “No, Joshua, you wanted more than that. I—”

  “You never knew what you wanted!” he spat. “You just did exactly what your mother told you to do and fuck the rest of us. But I knew. I knew that with your mother out of the way you would finally see clearly. For the first time in your life, you would see me for who I am and we, we would have been a couple at last. Dormay would have been ours.”

  Helen didn’t appear to be listening now. She had stopped walking towards him, had wobbled a little and then dropped back down onto her chair. She was shaking her head with a look of horror on her face and he turned pale then, realising what he had done. She glared at him, aghast.

  “You?! You... killed... my mother?”

  There were more gasps around the room as the group slowly cottoned on. Joshua, too, realised what he had said. He was shaking his head fervently, but no one believed him anymore.

  “For what?” Helen was screaming at him. “For me?! For the baby?!”

  He pushed his hands through his hair, he looked suddenly sheepish.

  “I did it for us!”

  Helen had paled too. “But... but you loved Abi so much... How... how could you do that to her?”

  “I loved Abi more than she deserved,” he spat back, a red glow creeping into his cheeks. “Abi never thought I was good enough, for you, for Dormay. She just worked me to the bone, made me clean up after those bloody lazy local bastards, and then to thank me, was going to hand the place over to them. No questions asked. Dormay, the hotel, the whole lot! Are you serious?”

  “But I thought you loved the locals,” said Maya now, her blue eyes wide with shock.

  He scowled at her. “What’s to love? They’re fuckin’ slackers. They never worked a hard day in their life. I’ve covered for them since I was a child. My mum before me. She told me, these people don’t deserve this place. All they do is put their hand out to Abi and she keeps giving them more and more. Then, as a final stab in my back, she was going to hand them Dormay. Just like that! Not give it to me, not to Helen, but to the people whose ancestors were born here and never did a fuckin’ thing with the place. If it had been up to them it would still be a few grass huts and some coconuts. As for me? I helped turn it into what it is today, into a world-class resort. But do I get any thanks for that? No I don’t. I’m from Beela, right? So I’m not strictly ‘a local’.”

  He did the quotation marks with his fingers and Roxy wanted to walk across and swipe him one, but she let him continue on.

  “I don’t get a thing—well, apart from a pathetic payout that doesn’t come close to covering it. Guilt money, that’s all it was.”

  He had stepped out from behind the bar and his whole body was shaking. He wasn’t really addressing anyone now, just throwing his voice around, his eyes darting desperately from left to right.

  “You know what Abi said to me? ‘You can go back to your home now’ like she was handing me a gift. What home? I haven’t been on the mainland since I was one! Dormay is my home. My home.”

  “Ah, Joshua,” said Davara softly from the side.

  His eyes were laced with sadness and Roxy felt for him more than anyone at this point. The Chief had been incredibly strong throughout this exchange but it must have been hard watching his nephew hang himself. She wondered if he wanted to caution him, to shut him up, and she admired his restraint.

  “Dormay would not have been yours anyway,” he said. “With Abi dead, Dormay still belongs to Helen. You are not the beneficiary.”

  Joshua stopped then, turned away, finally looking ashamed. So Roxy spoke up again.

  “But you thought Helen was pregnant with your child, didn’t you? You thought, finally, you had a legitimate claim to the island. Then, to find out Abi was going to give Dormay to the locals anyway. Deny not just the woman you loved but your unborn child. It was too much for you, wasn’t it? Of course, you must have suspected what Abi was up to for some time because you’d already got the pilot, Davo, to bring you a supply of quinine, just in case. I watched him hand the package over. I thought later that he must have given you a pregnancy kit for Helen, but she says he’d forgotten it. So what was in that parcel? Boxes of quinine, right?”

  He didn’t answer her so she continued on. “You’d obviously been considering doing it for some time, but then, just before dinner on Abi’s final night, Helen confirmed your worst nightmare. She told you Abi was meeting with her lawyer the next day to sign the land over to the locals, to the true locals of Dormay. That’s when you attacked. You must have run back to your room, grabbed so
me quinine and dropped a little of it into her G&T during dinner that night. Probably during the kerfuffle over the entrees.”

  “I hardly gave her any!” he said at last. “The tiniest amount.”

  “That’s because you didn’t get the chance to,” scoffed Roxy. “Before you could pour the rest in, Doc was whisking her off to bed. That’s why you offered to take her up, you wanted to finish the job. When that didn’t work, and you spotted her up and about the following morning, you followed her to the track and killed her.”

  His jaw clenched and unclenched. “It wasn’t like that. I tried to talk some sense into her. I gave her plenty of chances. But she insisted she had to do the right thing. The right thing?! And then, worse, she laughed at me. She fuckin’ laughed when I told her I loved Helen, that Helen was having my baby. She said... she said the baby wasn’t even mine. I... didn’t believe her. I thought she was just trying one more way to break us up. But this... this fuckin’ French dick? Jesus, Helen, how could you?!”

  He threw his body across the bar, hid his head in his hands and began to weep, big gulping sobs.

  Doc stood up and stepped back from the bar, as though repulsed by the sight of the man. He looked like he had aged 10 years in 10 minutes, and he was shaking his head furiously at Joshua. When he spoke, he could barely get his words out.

  “So... so... you not only... resent the woman who took you in, under her wing, gave you wealth, education, a life!? But you poison her? And when that doesn’t work, you hit that beautiful, elderly, sick woman over the head and shove her into a dirty hole to die?!”

  He was spitting now and Joshua was just shaking his head, not looking up.

  “You buried her like that, with that lack of dignity. With her poor head out for the crabs to feast on!” He choked back a sob.

  “I thought it would make the locals look guilty,” Joshua whispered hoarsely.

  “You really hated them all that much? The locals, Abi, even Helen?”

  “Not Helen!” he said, looking up, his face streaked with tears. “I have always loved Helen. Too much.”

  “No!” growled Doc. “You don’t love anyone but yourself. How could you possibly love Helen and do that to her mother? To her unborn child? Oh no, young man, deep down you are filled with hate. You think you are entitled to this.”

  He waved one hand around the place, indicating the resort, the island, the moonlit ocean beyond.

  “Why? Because you worked here for a few years? Abi paid you well didn’t she? She paid you fair and square? You were entitled to nothing. It wasn’t yours to take!”

  “What about you old man!” he spat back. “You’re one to talk. You’ve lived off Abi for years. Helen’s right about all of you—Wade, his bimbo fuckin’ wife over there— you’ve all used and abused Abi for decades.”

  Maya muttered some outrage to Wade but Doc simply shook his head sadly and returned to his stool.

  “Ah, Joshua, you might be right but at least we all loved her. Without question. That’s the difference. And we didn’t kill her and leave her to die in a ditch. All alone.”

  Chief Davara nodded at Inspector Sikani then and the young officer moved towards the bar and took Joshua by the arm. He didn’t put up a fight, didn’t say anymore, he simply bowed his head and let them lead him away while Helen sobbed quietly into her shaking hands.

  Two more police officers entered the veranda then and approached the Zimmermans who both looked stony faced, their heads held high as they were escorted out of the hotel and to the waiting police vessel. By now Maya was at the bar, pouring herself a very large wine, so Chief Davara sat down beside Wade. The Governor looked at him, almost matter-of-factly, as though he’d sat down for a chat.

  “It’s your turn next,” Davara told him and Wade nodded mutely. “We will not hold you overnight but I expect you to report to my office tomorrow by lunch time. Do you understand?”

  He nodded again then sighed heavily as he stood up and followed Davara out. On the way both men looked back at Roxy. Davara offered her a small triumphant smile while Wade simply shook his head irritably at her, wishing perhaps, that the ghostwriter had never set foot on Dormay.

  Within the hour, Joshua, the Zimmermans and Wade had all been escorted off the island and the remaining residents—Roxy, Helen, Maya, Luc and Doc—were seated at an unset table in the dining room. Roxy and Doc had managed to find bread and meats in the kitchen fridge and they made a small platter for those who felt hungry. Very little was eaten and even less was said. It had been an exhausting evening, draining them all, so eventually they drifted off to bed, each one heavy hearted and alone.

  As Roxy drifted off to sleep underneath the billowing mosquito net with the ocean roaring away in the distance, images of Abi began to float in front of her eyes. But this time there was no silent scream or glassy-eyed horror. This time, the elderly hotelier was smiling warmly, a bright hibiscus flower wedged into her frizzy grey hair, her bejewelled fingers waving Roxy goodnight.

  Chapter 20

  The rain came at last on Roxy’s final day and she welcomed the torrential downpour as she flung open her wooden shutters and drank in the cool air. It had been a dramatic evening but she had slept well last night, the best sleep of the entire week. The pieces were now all in place and she felt an enormous burden lift as the rain shuddered down. She spotted the nautilus shell she had souvenired after that first time at main beach and the sprig of coral Abi had given her, and was about to place them both in her half-packed suitcase when a gentle knock interrupted her. She placed them down and padded over to the door to open it.

  Helen was standing outside, a little colour had returned to her cheeks. She was clutching a cheque.

  “I thought I’d better repay you... it’s the only way I know how.”

  “Please, come in,” said Roxy, returning to her packing. Helen closed the door and took a seat on the bed, placing the cheque beside Roxy’s bag.

  “I love the rain,” Helen said. “It always cools the place down. It’s quieter in the rainy season, too. Or, at least, it used to be. I don’t think this year was a good example.”

  “No, it certainly wasn’t quiet. So, what are you going to do now?”

  Helen shrugged. “I’m going to do what my mother wanted. I’m handing Dormay back to the people.”

  Roxy looked up at her, wide-eyed. “Really?”

  “Absolutely. She’s right, this isn’t our land, it never was. It got stolen from their ancestors many moons ago and it’s time to give it back. Besides, my heart was never in the place. She knew that. In many ways, I realise that if my mother had disinherited me from Dormay it would have been a gift. A way out.”

  Roxy nodded. “Where will you go? What will you do?”

  She patted her lower belly and smiled. It was the warmest smile Roxy had ever seen cross her face.

  “Who knows? But I have a baby to think about now.”

  “You’re going to keep it? That’s great.”

  “Yes, and strangely I don’t feel trapped like I did before. Funny, really, now that I’m knocked up and homeless, I feel free for the first time in my life. I’m free of my mother, of Dormay, of worrying about whether Popeye will splash red wine all over the guests.”

  She laughed, then a frown flickered across her face. “And, I’m finally free of Joshua.”

  A tear sprang from her eye. “You know, he used to sneak out of his Brisbane boarding school and into mine sometimes, when we were teenagers?”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” She smiled sadly. “He used to call me his princess and say that Dormay was our kingdom. That one day we’d rule our own little world. I just laughed, I thought he was being dramatic. I never knew he meant it so literally, I never knew...”

  She stopped, choked a little. “I never knew he’d kill for that.”

  Roxy sat down beside Helen and put an arm around her.

  “Of course you didn’t. You can’t blame yourself, Helen.”

  She shook her
self a little and brushed a finger under her wet eyes.

  “I know, I know. Still, we created quite a monster, didn’t we? My mother and I?” She sighed. “My poor mother. Chief Davara is releasing the body now, they’re bringing her back to Dormay. We’re going to hold a proper funeral this afternoon, give her a decent sending off.”

  “Good to hear.”

  “You know it’s ironic. Despite what Doc said, my mother actually wouldn’t have minded the way Joshua... did it. She really did love these people, their traditions. I think she would have liked being buried in the sand at her favourite beach, the way these people have been buried for generations. And she would have wanted to eventually be moved to their final resting place. So, we’re taking her to the burial site on the other side of the island. We’re putting her to rest with her people. The locals have asked if they can run the ceremony, the traditional way.”

  Roxy felt herself choking up. “That’s beautiful,” she managed to say.

  “Will you stay for it?” Helen’s eyes were imploring. “I can call the pilot, ask him to pick you up later?”

  “Of course. I would be honoured.”

  “I have one other thing to ask you.” She hesitated. “I know I have asked more than enough of you. But...”

  “What is it, Helen?”

  “I’d like you to come back, as soon as you can, to complete my mother’s book.”

  This, too, caught Roxy by surprise. “You really want to do this?”

  “It’s what my mother wanted. Now it seems more important than ever. She deserves to have her story told, to not be remembered as the woman who was left in a ditch to die. I need you to tell her story the right way.”

  Roxy thought about this.

  “Again, Helen, I’d be honoured. But I’ll need to interview the locals, and I’ll need to interview you, to fill in the missing pieces. Will you still be around? When will you be handing it over?”

  Helen stood up. “Oh I guess it will all take some time. I have to organise a meeting with Mum’s lawyer, the Lands Commissioner, get it all in place. Plus I’ll have to spend some time training Maurice up for the job.”

 

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