by Jean Harrod
He smiled. “I’ll do whatever I can to help. But I’m afraid I can only stay for three days. I have to be back at work next week, you see. The Illegal Immigration Task Force I’m working for have to include the findings from my overseas trip in their report for the PM. I’m a member of the panel presenting it to him next Friday.
Only three days. She felt deflated, especially after being so relieved to see him walk off that plane. Of course he had no locus in these islands to do any detective work, and wouldn’t be able to do any actual investigating. But he’d be company, a friend she could trust. And right now, that’s what she needed. “You don’t have a problem flying, do you?” she asked, as their flight was called. “We have to go over to Grand Turk on propeller planes.”
Those steely, grey eyes she remembered so well narrowed. “I’m an Australian Federal Agent. We fly everywhere on helicopters, single engine propeller planes and whatever else.”
“You’ll be right at home here, then, won’t you?” she quipped.
On the flight over to Grand Turk, Jess stared out the window at the sugary sand banks popping up out of the sea. She tried to relax, but couldn’t help worrying. She hadn’t managed to get Sally on the phone, and she’d specifically told her to stay in the office.
On a single seat across the aisle from her, Tom sat remarkably still.
She glanced over and saw him drawing in his sketch pad, a habit she found both intriguing and irritating. She peered sideways to try and get a look at his drawing, but she couldn’t quite see it. She hoped it wasn’t of her.
It was impossible to talk much on the plane. Everyone was so quiet they would have heard everything. She settled back into the seat, but her head was buzzing. It wasn’t just Sally she was worried about. Simon hadn’t replied to any of her texts. She started sifting through the events of the last few weeks in her mind. Had there been any signs that something was wrong with him? Now that she thought about it, he had seemed rather preoccupied. And he’d been working later than usual. Was something wrong at work, perhaps? She hoped he was all right in Los Angeles. He’d call if he wasn’t, wouldn’t he? If she didn’t hear from him soon, she could always ring his secretary in Washington to check he was okay.
It was a relief when the plane landed to be able to get off. The sun was still hot as they walked across the tarmac to Grand Turk’s domestic terminal. She left Tom at the baggage carousel to wait for his suitcase while she went out to find Sally. She looked around, but there was no sign of her in the terminal.
Pushing through the door, she was relieved to see her pacing around on the pavement outside.
“Sally?” she called and waved.
Sally came rushing over.
It was only when she took off her sunglasses that Jess saw her red-rimmed eyes.
“It’s the Governor.” Sally’s breath caught in her throat. “He p-passed away in hospital about an hour ago.”
21
Maggie came straight out of the Residence the moment the car drew up outside, as if she’d been waiting by the window for them to come back.
Jess climbed out of the car and went over. The tears in Maggie’s eyes said it all, and she put her arm around her. “I’m so sorry, Maggie.”
Maggie pulled a handkerchief out of her uniform pocket and wiped her tears. They stood together in silence, until Jess looked over to the car and beckoned to Tom. “We have a guest, Maggie,” she said, quietly. “Will you be able to look after him?”
Immediately Maggie straightened up and nodded.
Jess smiled at Tom as he walked over. She knew he felt awkward arriving at a time like this. “Tom,” she said, brightly, “this is Maggie, our housekeeper. Maggie already knows who are you.”
Maggie shook Tom’s hand. “Come in,” she said, warmly. “Please.” She ushered him through the front door.
Tom stood in the hallway and looked at them in turn. “I’m really sorry about the Governor.”
Jess nodded and put a reassuring hand on his arm. “And I’m sorry you’ve arrived in the middle of all this.”
“I don’t want to be in the way,” he said, quickly.
She shook her head. “You won’t be. I can assure you. I’m very glad you’re here. We all are.” She turned to Maggie. “Did Sally ring about supper tonight? Only we can cancel it.”
Maggie shook her head. “I’ve got everything in hand, Miss Jessica. It helps me, keeping busy.”
Jess looked into Maggie’s soulful eyes. “I don’t know what we’d do without you?” She turned to Tom. “Can I leave you in Maggie’s capable hands to settle in while I go back to the office and make some calls?”
He nodded. “Yep. You go and do what you have to do.”
She looked up at the still cloudless sky. The sun had gone, leaving a soft, mellow light. “It’s lovely on the beach at this time of day if you want a swim after all that travelling. But don’t go out too far... there’s no-one to help if you get into trouble.”
He frowned at her, as if to say are you serious?
“Yes, I know you Australians live at the beach,” she said. “But...”
He smiled. “No worries. I’ll be careful.”
“Right, Mister Tom. Follow me.” Maggie looked relieved to have the distraction of another guest in the house. “I’ll show you to your room.”
Jess left them together, and returned to the car, where Sally sat silently, hands still gripping the wheel. “You okay, Sally?” she asked as she got in.
Sally nodded. “London rang to tell us about the Governor while you were in the air. I didn’t know what to do.”
Jess could still see shock on Sally’s face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got that news,” she said, kindly.
That display of sympathy prompted the floodgates to open. Tears spilled down Sally’s cheeks. “Poor Jayne, she’ll be devastated... and the kids.”
Jess felt a lump in her throat too. She hadn’t known the Governor, but she knew exactly what his wife and children were going through right now. “At least Jayne was at his bedside when he died.”
Sally nodded and wiped her eyes. “London asked if you could ring as soon as you got back.”
Jess nodded. “I’ll do that. Come on, let’s go back to the office.”
Sally turned the car round and headed back along the drive. “I got hold of the Police Commissioner. I told him about the Governor.” She looked over for reassurance that she’d done the right thing.
Jess nodded.
“He asked me to ring him the moment you got back, and he’d come round.”
Jess sighed inwardly with frustration. She’d tried to phone and text him several times during the day. Why hadn’t he got in touch? That question was really bothering her. “Please phone him back and ask him to come here straightaway.”
*
Dexter Robinson let out a tired sigh as he lowered his bulk into a chair, and placed his peaked hat on the Governor’s conference table in front of him. He had the ever present beads of sweat on his forehead.
Jess had decided to see the Police Commissioner in the Governor’s office. She wanted him to be under no illusion that he had to deal with her now. And, hopefully, being in a room he was used to would make him feel more at ease.
She noticed the tremor in his hand as he pulled his handkerchief from his uniform pocket and mopped his brow. His face looked drained.
“I’m sorry about the Governor.” His voice was grave. “It’s the worst possible news.”
Jess nodded. “We knew he was badly injured in that accident, but we hoped... well, we hoped he’d pull through.”
There was a pause while they both collected their thoughts.
“Has there been any decision about funeral arrangements?” he asked. “Will it be held here, or in the UK?”
“I haven’t heard yet, but I expect it’ll be at the Governor’s home in the UK. We’ll hold a memorial service for him here of course.” She was thinking aloud now. “And we’ll open a book of condolence in recep
tion for people to come in and sign.”
He nodded. “I’m sure the other islands will want to open one too, for people who can’t get here.”
“Of course.”
As they talked about the Governor’s death and all the arrangements, the Police Commissioner seemed to sink lower and lower into his chair. He looked exhausted, and had now lapsed into his customary silence. Jess was still irritated he hadn’t kept in touch during the day, but she decided to try and work with him. He was a man of status in these islands, and well respected by the local people. She had to try and gain his trust. First, she wanted to know what he’d been doing all day. “We missed you at the hurricane planning meeting,” she said.
He nodded. “I went over to Provo on an early plane, but I flew straight back. We had a problem with Mrs Pearson’s daughter. She wasn’t being very co-operative, and my officers wanted me to talk to her.”
“Problem?” Jess asked.
He nodded. “She was the one who found her mother’s body yesterday.” He looked up. “Around midday, when we were up at the lighthouse.”
Jess frowned. “Why didn’t she find it earlier?”
“Oh, she doesn’t live with her mother,” he said. “She’s married with a child of her own. She’d been ringing her mother all morning, and got no reply. So she picked her child up from the kindergarten around 11.30 for lunch, and drove up to her mother’s house.”
Jess could just imagine what a dreadful scene the poor woman had walked into. “Must have been terrible for her.”
“Yes.” He stopped. “Now, she refuses point blank to go back into the house. But if burglary was the reason for the murder, she’s the only one who can tell us if there’s anything missing. But she insists that she will never set foot in the house again.”
“Do you think it might have been a burglary gone wrong?” Jess asked.
He looked down. “We’re exploring all lines of enquiry at the moment. But there were no signs of a forced entry. The front door was closed as usual when the daughter turned up. She let herself in with her key.” He sighed. “We’re interviewing the domestic staff at the moment. They’re Haitians.”
Jess looked up. “Talking of Haitians,” she said. “Your officers don’t seem to be taking Mrs Canning’s fears about her dog seriously. On my advice, she phoned yesterday to report that her dog’s collar had been returned and left on her back patio. There were three so-called coffin nails punched into it.”
He nodded, wearily. “Yes. I heard about it.”
“So why didn’t your officers take the collar away for examination? And why aren’t they taking her safety seriously? It might seem like a simple voodoo joke to them, but don’t forget she’s the wife of the Chief Justice on this island. He’s been responsible for jailing local criminals here, so this could be some kind of payback.”
“Oh my officers don’t think it’s a joke.” Dexter shook his head. “No, they were... nervous of handling the collar.”
“Why? Because of the... curse those nails are supposed to bring with them?”
He nodded. “The local people don’t really believe in voodoo, but that doesn’t stop them being scared to get involved.”
“It’s their job,” she said. “Would you please ask them to go back and get the collar and investigate the disappearance of Mrs Canning’s dog properly?” She paused. “With everything that’s gone on, we should be taking this curse, or rather the threat it conveys, more seriously. As the Chief Justice is away, don’t you think it would be prudent to put a police guard on her house for a while?”
He sighed. “You’re right, of course.”
“And could you please keep me informed of developments on these investigations as they progress,” she said, pointedly. “I have to report regularly to London.” She paused as her mind turned to the Governor’s car crash. How could she broach her suspicions that it wasn’t an accident, without mentioning that woman in Provo and her warning. “Have you found the vehicle that hit the Governor’s car yet?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, my officers are still searching.”
“Do you still think the stolen supermarket truck was involved?”
He nodded. “I do, because we can’t find it. Someone has it well hidden.”
She wondered just how difficult it could be to find a large supermarket truck on such a small island. “I find the whole incident bizarre,” she said. “Why was the Governor driving down from the lighthouse in the early hours of the morning anyway? It seems his car and the truck were the only two vehicles on the road. Funny that they should hit each other, and that no-one saw anything.” She paused. “Or have any witnesses come forward now?”
He shook his head. “No witnesses.”
Why was she not surprised? “If the Governor’s car was travelling as fast as you seem to think, Dexter, the impact would have been serious. Wouldn’t the driver of the truck be injured too?”
“We’ve checked with the clinic and doctors on the island,” he replied. “No-one has presented with injuries of that nature.”
Something in the way he shifted on his seat before answering her last question suggested he wasn’t telling the whole truth. “Are you sure it was an accident?” she asked, in a level voice.
His eyes widened briefly, then he replied: “I have a copy of the accident report for you.” He grunted with the effort of bending down to his briefcase on the floor and pulled out a document. “The preliminary findings, anyway.”
She got up and took the document. “What does it conclude?”
“That it was an accident,” he said.
“An accident? How can it conclude it was an accident when you haven’t found the other vehicle and driver yet?”
He went on: “The Governor’s car which, as you know, he was driving himself, was travelling at a speed of almost 70mph. That is very fast on that downhill, single-lane stretch of road. At the only junction along that road, a truck coming from another direction ploughed into the driver’s door. It was a serious impact. The Governor’s car caught fire and, well, we know the rest.”
Jess was pacing around the office now, thinking back to the wreck in the Government Garage. The sequence of events sounded plausible, and the damage reported seemed to correspond with what she’d seen. The car was burnt black, so it had been a serious fire. But how had the Governor got out alive?” She looked at Dexter. “I saw the Governor’s car in the Government Garage last night. How did he get out of that blaze alive? Not out the driver’s door, that’s for sure, the metal was too buckled.”
Dexter shifted again in his seat. “We think he climbed across the seat, and out the passenger door.”
Jess turned that over in her mind. It was the impact that caused the serious injuries to the Governor, not burns from the fire that followed. If he’d been so badly injured at impact, how could he have climbed across the seat and got out the passenger door? She looked at Dexter.
But he just looked away.
Her mind turned to the argument that Sally had heard between Clement Pearson and the Governor just before Clement committed suicide. Again, she wouldn’t tell the Police Commissioner about the argument, but she would ask him about the two men. “How well did the Governor and Clement Pearson know each other?”
“Very well,” he replied. “They were colleagues.”
“Did they get on well?”
“They were both gentlemen,” he said, as if that answered her question.
So what were they arguing about, she wondered? And why? “There’s a sequence of events here, Dexter, that are puzzling. First, Clement Pearson commits suicide. Why? Then the Governor has a serious car crash, and later dies. Then Mrs Pearson is brutally murdered. Again, why?” She paused. “These events are shocking. The question is, how are they connected?”
Dexter mopped his forehead again. It was too chilly in the cold air conditioning for him to be sweating this time. He was buying time to think.
“Do you know how they are connected?” sh
e asked again. “Do you have any leads or motives?”
The colour had drained from Dexter’s lips. “You’re getting ahead of the investigation, Jess.”
She sat back in the chair, and rubbed her eyes. She was getting nowhere.
“We need to be patient,” he insisted, “and wait for the evidence to emerge.”
But Jess had no more patience. She would definitely request UK police assistance, but she wanted Dexter to agree to this. “Have you got enough officers and resources to continue to investigate Mrs Pearson’s murder as well as to find the vehicle and driver who killed the Governor?” Her words were rather blunt, but she wanted to shock Dexter into doing something. “The Governor’s crash was a hit and run. So until you have found the truck and driver and established it really was an accident, don’t you think we should keep an open mind?”
For a brief moment, she saw panic in his eyes.
Then he replied: “I am quite sure we can manage both the investigation into the Governor’s accident, and Mrs Pearson’s murder, with the resources and manpower we already have here.”
“Can you, Dexter?” She knew it would be easier to bring UK police officers onto the island with his co-operation. He was the Police Chief, and commanded the respect of the locals. “Wouldn’t it be helpful to have more boots to cover the ground? And more forensics, and other, experts.”
The Police Commissioner said nothing.
She went on: “Once the British media get to know about the question marks still hanging over the Governor’s car accident, and the horror of Mrs Pearson’s murder, they’ll be all over these islands. They’ll poke into every nook and cranny until they get to the truth.”
He stared at her.
“The pressure will be intense You do realise you’ll be in the firing line if there’s no quick resolution.” She paused. “Wouldn’t it be better to work with outside assistance to share the pressure and responsibility?”
She noticed the tremor in his hands again. He was clearly weighing her words up carefully in his mind, like the measured man he was.
