He must try harder to get her onside. ‘Help me get an insight into Nisi’s life here, Litia. Who was she closest to?’
‘Possibly her roommates, Eseta and Vasenai, but not necessarily. Ledua was always very kind to her, and I think Nisi probably looked on her as a mother figure. But whether she confided in her—you’d have to ask Ledua.’
‘Was she close to her uncle, Jona?’
Adi Litia’s eyebrows and mole shot up again. ‘Oh, I don’t think so. Jona’s quite serious and stern, you know.’
‘And what was Nisi like?’
Adi Litia didn’t respond right away, but gazed out the window for a few moments. Then she looked at Horseman intently. ‘Nisi was a keen worker who was competent and even showed initiative. She had a real flair for floral decoration, skilled at making salusalu, all of that.’
This aristocrat was a hard nut to crack. He tried again. ‘That sounds like a reference, Litia. Nisi’s dead, she won’t be applying for another job ever again. Can you tell me what she was like as a person?’
‘She was eighteen, knew hardly anything beyond village life. She was pretty and lively. Ultimately she was silly.’ She sounded defiant now.
‘How was she silly?’
Adi Litia sighed impatiently. ‘Suddenly she was transplanted to a high-end boutique resort where she was exposed to worlds she’d never dreamt of. On a clear day she could look out of the dining room and see the hills of her own island, her old life. She wanted to go further, literally. She thought she could, and would. That was silly.’
‘Why? It’s been done.’
‘Yes, it has, but not by people like her.’
Horseman found it hard to believe the woman was serious. ‘Did she have an escape plan?’
‘I think so. I think it was marriage. For the first nine months she was here, she was quite a flirt, but she spent a lot of time with Maika. I thought they were a suitable couple, would probably marry and continue on here. But the last few months, I think she was looking further afield.’
Adi Litia spoke as if it was completely natural for her to arrange her staff’s lives, in their best interests of course.
‘Where?’
‘At anyone who came with a flight out of Fiji, I thought. She was often hanging around the scientists’ camp, I believe. They’ve been here since October.’
‘Do you think she was interested in anyone there?’
‘Not that I know of. She was popular with everyone, and she revelled in that.’ Her musical voice was laced with the resentment of the unpopular.
‘I wouldn’t have thought much would escape your notice, Litia. Where do you suppose Nisi was yesterday afternoon? It seems everyone was watching the blessing ceremony.’
‘That’s right. No one was on duty, apart from Jona, Maika and a couple of boys managing the boats. I’m not sure if everyone from the camp came over, though. It was the biggest crowd I’ve ever seen here, so I really couldn’t say for sure who was here and who wasn’t, unless they did something remarkable.’
‘Well, something remarkable happened, didn’t it? What’s your theory about the incident with the boat?’
Adi Litia drew herself up straight in her chair. ‘An accident,’ she answered decisively.
‘Surely Jona knows every single hazardous rock near Paradise?’
‘Yes, he certainly does. But I think it was stressful maintaining such a slow speed, and keeping the boat steady so my father and the minister could stand and move without clinging on. . . with all that, his attention must have wavered for a moment. And I’m not sure if the boat actually hit a rock or not. Hitting the bottom broadside would have much the same result. I don’t blame Jona at all.’ She made it all sound perfectly plausible.
‘I’ve heard that Jona opposes the marine reserve.’
‘It sounds like you’ve heard about his intervention at lunch—the grace?’
‘I have.’
She shrugged. ‘It was a bit embarrassing, but best ignored. I hope the media don’t pick up on it and blow it up. Yes, Jona disapproves of the reserve on theological grounds, he claims. But he can’t actually oppose it. It’s a done deed, it’s in operation now.’ She smiled reassuringly.
‘If you remember any more about Nisi’s whereabouts yesterday afternoon, please tell us.’
‘I will indeed do that. I’ll ask my father, too.’
‘About the records I requested from Mr McKenzie. . .’
Adi Litia picked up the manila file and handed it to him. ‘You’ll find printouts of everything you requested here. We don’t really have originals, or books—everything’s computerised. You’ll find notes beside the names of guests who checked out yesterday and today.’
Impressive. ‘If all offices had you at the helm, my job would be much easier. And just one more thing, please. I have Akanisi’s photo album here. It would be useful to identify the people in the photos. Would you be able to help?’
Adi Litia raised her eyebrows but said pleasantly enough, ‘I suppose I know her family. I’ll do what I can.’
‘Vinaka vakalevu Litia.’
‘I’ll see you at dinner, Inspector. Ian has invited you to join our table this evening. Would you like me to arrange dinner for your officers in your bure?’
He hated this sort of social dilemma. Always unsure what to do, the stress of such situations distracted his mind and sapped his energy from the job. His instinct told him to stick with his team. ‘Vinaka, Litia, but I feel my presence could inhibit your business discussions.’
Adi Litia’s jaw dropped. Then she laughed a rich, melodious laugh.
‘Oh, Inspector, you quite misunderstand! There’s only one topic we want to talk about—rugby. It might not seem right, the day after Akanisi’s death, but we can’t let this chance to talk rugby with the great Joe Horseman go.’ He suspected her of irony, but she sounded perfectly sincere.
‘In that case, I’d be delighted to accept. Could you also reserve a table for four for my team, please? They’ll eat in the dining room too.’
10
PARADISE ISLAND
Horseman and Professor Bill Burgermeister sat talking over drinks at a table on the edge of the terrace overlooking the beach and beyond. The air was cooler now, but still incredibly thick and damp. No escape from it until April at the soonest. How the obese American could work in this climate was beyond Horseman, but the man was infectiously enthusiastic, even while complaining about his exhaustion. The waiter set an icy Fiji Bitter before Burgermeister. Horseman would have liked one too, but stuck to his Chapman soda. It could be all too easy to go along with the professor’s casual charm while sharing a beer.
‘Cheers, Inspector, I’m dyin’ for this. I can’t take this goddam humidity no more. Won’t be sorry to pack up camp in another week. We’re in shock over Nisi’s death, we got to know her pretty good the last two months. I think our camp spirit’s taken a king hit.’
‘How are your projects going?’
‘On track by and large. But we’ll be flat out next week to finish up. Boy, what a day yesterday was. If it weren’t for Nisi’s accident, I’d be singing Hallelujah! Tell you what, there were times in the last two years when I thought the reserve might never happen.’
‘Do you think it can work?’
Burgermeister shot him an indignant look, but answered levelly. ‘All the studies elsewhere show that reef species repopulate way beyond expectations once harvesting stops. The results might be different here, but I can’t see any reason why they should be. Everybody wins with this deal. Okay, the lagoon waters are out of bounds, but these days the yield’s pitiful anyway, and the people know it. Anything can still be taken outside the barrier reef. Most fishermen concentrate their efforts there already.’ The professor’s piggy blue eyes bore into him.
Horseman thought
the local fishermen would see it differently. ‘Who else wins?’
The professor grinned, liking this question much more. ‘Who else wins? The traditional owners win down the track by getting their reef stocks back, and by the ban on commercial fishing in lagoon waters. The resort wins because in a few years they’ll be able to take guests to dive and snorkel inside the reef without them demanding their money back. And being able to promote Vula as “set amid a protected marine reserve” is worth big bucks in new business, let me tell you. Us scientists win by having a to-die-for project that will attract research students, and it gives us the immense pleasure of doing some practical good.’ He took a swig at his beer. Horseman noticed for the first time scratches on his hands and forearms, grazed knuckles, all yellow with iodine.
‘I certainly hope it’s a success. To get back to yesterday afternoon, Professor. You were playing reef golf with Dr Chakra when you found Nisi?’
‘Yep, Christ, that guy’s competitive!’ He pointed out past the sea wall. ‘We were near the edge of the fringing reef—way out there. I hit my shot too hard and the ball dropped out of sight behind the coral rise. I thought “Shit!” Can’t litter the reef. I picked my way through the coral and pools to where my ball went. Y’know, the golf ball was fluorescent pink, I saw it right away nestled in a clump of funnel-weed, probably Padina gymnospora. In a rock pool about a metre deep. I sat down on the edge and tried to hook the ball up with my iron. Got nowhere near.’
Horseman couldn’t see how Burgermeister would have a chance balancing on the razor-sharp coral and slithery algae.
The professor’s eyes were fixed on the edge of the reef, where small waves now broke. Horseman let him recover in his own time, unwilling to break the spell of memory relived.
Burgermeister’s focus remained on the reef when he started speaking again. ‘Vijay caught up, got in the pool, water past his waist, and picked up the ball in his toes. So agile. He turned to face me, holding the ball up in one hand like the Statue of Liberty. Then he kinda gasped and froze. The look of him scared me somehow, so I called out. “Got a cramp, Vijay? What’s the matter, buddy?”
‘Then he came to, took a few steps and ducked under the overhang where I was sitting. I’ll never forget his face when he came out. He could hardly croak. “It’s Nisi. Caught under the overhang. We’ve got to get her out, man. God! Nisi!”
‘I said. “Christ! Tell me what to do.”
‘Vijay recovered himself and called, “She’s caught. I’ll try to free her and float her out. Between us we should be able to roll her up over the edge.”
Horseman was now caught up in reliving the scene with Burgermeister. He had no doubt that the man was describing what he was seeing again with precision. Then Burgermeister looked directly at Horseman. ‘Y’know, when I saw her she was still dressed in the new uniform all the staff wore yesterday. The shirt’s rugby balls and palm trees, black and white, your national colours, for Chrissake—only in Fiji! Sorry, I know you’re a national rugby star—great game! I spewed up.’
Burgermeister turned his gaze to the reef again and continued. ‘Vijay got the poor girl alongside the edge and hoisted her up. I was kneeling, struggling to maintain my balance, I admit. I could only grab one upper arm and pull. Sweet Jesus, the coral grating her flesh. . . horrible. I managed to grab her under the arms and pull while Chakra pushed from below. Then I toppled backwards. I felt ashamed, y’know. There I was, too fat to be any use, flailing around on the sharp rubble, pinned down by the girl’s body. In the end I managed to roll her off, I’ll never know how. By the time I’d hauled myself upright, Chakra had Nisi on her side. Water running from her mouth. Her legs and feet all cut up.
‘I said to Vijay, “I’m bloody slow over this rubble. You’d better run for help while I stay here with the body.”
‘But he wouldn’t. He said, “Don’t you see, she mightn’t be dead, Bill? I’ll work on her. Just go as quick as you can, it’s getting dark. Get them to bring lights!” Vijay stuck his fingers in her mouth, fished out some algae and a crab, rolled her onto her back, and started mouth-to-mouth.
‘I picked up both our irons and managed somehow to jog back to the sea wall using the irons for support. I yelled out for help and by the time I got to the beach a coupla staff came running. When McKenzie and the others got back out there, Vijay was still doin’ the CPR.’
Burgermeister came back to the present, looked at Horseman questioningly, picked up his glass and drained the beer in one gulp. When he tilted his head back, the folds under his chin stretched into smooth pink pelican skin, striped with white. How the man managed to shave, he couldn’t work out.
Shaken by the horror Burgermeister had relived for him, Horseman knew he’d heard the truth. But it might not have been the whole truth.
11
PARADISE ISLAND
The dinner with the McKenzies and Adi Litia was going better than Horseman had expected. For both the Fijians and New Zealanders, rugby was a serious topic of conversation. They analysed the relative strengths of the teams competing in next season’s Super Fourteens, Tri-nations and Sevens international tournaments. Rugby somehow provided respite from the shock of Nisi’s death.
McKenzie said, ‘We all take for granted that Fiji’s a major world team, but when you think about it, it’s amazing, isn’t it? This scatter of islands, population less than a million, not much money for training, and you can win the international Sevens! I put it down to Fijians’ innate ability and sheer guts.’
Horseman nodded. ‘You forget that the whole population is rugby mad, so there’s total moral support for boys who want to play seriously. And there’s not much else for kids to do except play sport, even in Suva and Lautoka. That helps.’
Pat McKenzie knocked back her glass of wine and asked, ‘Why does Fiji do so much better in the Sevens than in the full team competitions?’
Adi Litia leapt into the fray. ‘Because you Kiwis, Australia, and France poach so many of our best players, of course. We can only muster seven of our finest. Thank God, they never kidnapped you, Joe, well not for long, anyway. I remember you did go to France, didn’t you?’
Horseman smiled. ‘Just for a year. The police wouldn’t release me for longer and I didn’t want to resign. Later on I had another year in Japan.’ He didn’t want to admit to them he’d never looked very far ahead, never had long-term plans. Just assumed those glorious days would go on and on. Enjoying the challenge of the job, but living for the thrill of the game. He’d work hard on his rehab, and next season he’d be ready again.
He looked at Mrs McKenzie. ‘There’s something in what Litia says, you know. It does come down to numbers. But the lack of money also means players can’t spend so much time training. They have to earn their living. The coaches are all amateurs too, apart from the national coach. But I often think our most serious weakness is stamina. The Sevens games are only fourteen minutes long, with twenty minutes for the finals, so the Fijians can perform at their best.’
‘Joe Horseman will be hard to replace, I must say,’ McKenzie said with a smile.
‘Vinaka, but there are plenty of terrific young players on their way up. I’m only out of the game for the coming season, you know. I’ll be getting too old if I miss any more.’ The others all nodded their heads sadly. Surely they realised he was joking, they couldn’t really believe he was too old for rugby! Could they?
Pat McKenzie drained another glass of wine and leaned towards Horseman. ‘If I may be personal, Inspector, I’ve been speculating about the origin of your family name. I mean, you look totally Fijian. Where does the Horseman name come from?’
‘It’s a long story, and even my grandfather wasn’t sure what was fact and what was family legend.’
‘How intriguing. Let’s hear it.’
‘If you don’t mind, of course,’ McKenzie hastily added, glaring at his wife.
Horseman smiled. ‘You asked for it, remember. The first Horseman could have come ashore in Fiji at the beginning of the 1800s. A few deserters from visiting trading ships, shipwreck survivors and even escaped convicts from the Australian colonies fetched up here. Most didn’t last long. Into the fire, literally. But once the rival chiefs traded sandalwood and bêche-de-mer for guns, they needed people who could use and maintain them. A number of these desperate drifters, like the notorious Charles Savage, saved their skins by becoming indispensable to warring chiefs who gave them wives and land. But I like my ancestor’s story better. Legend has it that he was a survivor of a ship wrecked on a reef off Vanua Levu. A few men managed to get ashore, where they were clubbed and prepared for the ovens.’ He paused, trying to gauge if they were really interested.
‘Come on! Truly? I’m sure all those cannibal stories are highly exaggerated for ghoulish tourists,’ McKenzie protested, ever the diplomatic host.
Horseman glanced at Adi Litia, who calmly replied, ‘Not at all, Ian. The victors ate all the enemy killed in battle, for a start. The chiefs’ cooks roasted anyone put to death for offending the law or the chief too. There were even raiding parties whose main purpose was to bring back meat. All Fijians praise God for sending the brave Christian missionaries to deliver us from those evils.’ She put a forkful of rare steak into her mouth and chewed it with strong white teeth.
McKenzie subsided into a stunned silence.
Horseman went on. ‘My ancestor clung to some timber and washed up in a different bay. He came to on the beach as he was being nuzzled by a horse, part of his ship’s cargo. The club-wielding warriors were keeping their distance, terrified. You’ve got to remember, none of them had ever seen a land animal bigger than a pig.
‘The chief’s men reported the wreck to him, and he came along to inspect the flotsam and jetsam for himself. It was true love at first sight. The chief would have given anything for the horse—guns, war canoes, slaves, women—anything and everything. My ancestor sensed the chief’s desire and stayed close to the horse for protection. He stroked and soothed the traumatised animal, and kept repeating the word Horse, trying to placate the Fijians. Desperate to convince the chief of his value, he climbed on the horse’s back and showed off his riding skills before the gob-smacked Fijians. Up and down the beach. Bareback. Trotting, galloping, wheeling and rearing. Impressive.
DEATH ON PARADISE ISLAND: Fiji Islands Mysteries 1 Page 7
