DEATH ON PARADISE ISLAND: Fiji Islands Mysteries 1

by B. M. Allsopp

  Two fit young men in low slung, knee-length shorts, the taller one wearing a baseball cap, emerged from the scrub.

  ‘Hey, Maika! Bula, man.’

  ‘Bula guys. How’s it goin’?’

  The shorter, Indian man solemnly extended his hand to Maika. ‘Real down, man. Can’t take it in that Nisi’s gone.’ His wavy black hair covered his ears and brushed the shoulders of his faded blue T-shirt, hiding all but a central section of his dark stubbled face.

  His taller Fijian companion clasped Maika’s hand too, then hugged him. ‘Me too. Sorry for you, Maika. True.’

  ‘Vinaka, guys. Have you met Detective Sergeant Singh?’ He turned to her. ‘This is Anil and Wes. They’ll help you. I’ve got to get back straight away for the guests’ snorkelling trip.’

  ‘Vinaka, Maika. Don’t worry about coming to pick me up, I’ll walk back along the track.’

  ‘Okay, see you later.’

  Wes smiled at Singh and held out his hand confidently. He was solidly built, clean-shaven and handsome, despite the dreadlocks springing from beneath his baseball cap. She couldn’t stand dreadlocks. He’d ripped the sleeves from his Greenpeace T-shirt, must have spent some time teasing out the threads to create fringes round the armholes.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Sergeant. I’m Waisele Tabualevu, field biologist. Call me Wes. Anil and I work with Professor Burgermeister here. Come up to the camp and say hello.’

  So this was the chief’s nephew, who was responsible for persuading his uncle to support the marine reserve. She followed the two boys, she couldn’t think of them as men, along a path through the dense scrub, which turned out to be only a few metres deep.

  Beyond it was a sandy clearing bordered by trees, neatly set up as a camp. There were several small dome tents on one side. In the centre, was an open-sided shed roofed in tarpaulin overlaid with coconut fronds, and set up with trestle tables. On the other side were two large rectangular canvas tents. Paths led away from the clearing in different directions. Two shoulder-high rectangular stacks just inside the thicket were covered in tarps and lashed down with ropes. Between the tents stood a very fat man in a wide-brimmed straw hat, peering into an open plastic bag on the ground. Wes made the introductions.

  Singh smiled. ‘Good morning Professor. I’ve come to speak to Anil Gupta and Sitiveni Doka. Waisele was at yesterday’s meeting, so we already have his statement.’

  The professor’s beady blue eyes twinkled as she shook his pudgy, damp hand. Firm grip, though. ‘You’re welcome, Sergeant. I spoke to Joe Horseman yesterday—I guess you know that. I’m done with my statement, but it’s still in my laptop. Printer needs charging. I dropped the battery off to the resort yesterday.’

  ‘You could transfer it to my memory stick, if you like, Professor. I’ll print it out at the resort and you can sign it when you come across to pick up your battery.’

  ‘Okay. Done.’ He regarded her intently, then turned his attention to the plastic bag again. ‘Ever see banded sea kraits mating?’

  ‘What? Are you serious, Professor?’

  Burgermeister puffed his chest out and grinned. ‘Bill, please. Yep, I’m serious. You know, we’re the first to systematically record their mating behaviour?’

  Singh was astonished. ‘Why do you want to do that?’

  ‘Why, Sergeant? Why?’ Suddenly animated, he waved his arms around. ‘Because it hasn’t been done before. Laticaudid species are all over the tropics, especially in these waters, yet we know fuck-all about their lives. Pardon the pun. We know how the American garter snakes make out, and European adders—but the sea kraits, that’s the laticaudids, are quite a separate evolutionary lineage. Is their courtship behaviour different? How? Who gets to score the most? What makes a female hot? Who do the hot females like to screw?’

  ‘I saw my first sea snake—did you say krait?—yesterday, Bill.’

  ‘Yep, these are banded sea kraits—that’s the common English name. Their Fijian name’s dadakulaci and their scientific name’s Laticauda colubrina. Take a look, girl, they won’t bite.’

  Singh had felt humiliated by her display of fear in front of Horseman yesterday and would not repeat her behaviour here. She steeled herself, stepped up to the bag and peered in. It wasn’t really a bag, but a frame of wooden stakes wrapped in plastic, about a metre high. Inside were about four gleaming black and white banded snakes, maybe more; she couldn’t really tell where one stopped and the next started. After her instinctive horror subsided, she could see that one was a lot bigger than the others, and the smaller snakes coiled more or less parallel to it, as if their aim was for every millimetre of their bodies to be in contact with the big one. Far from the frenzied writhing she feared, the snakes were totally still. Then one of the small ones twitched slightly.

  ‘There, see that twitch? He’s courting her. The big one’s the female.’ The excited professor marked something on his clipboard. We’ve painted numbers on them all, see? Each hour we check them and record any action.’

  ‘Maybe there’d be more action if they weren’t penned in a bag.’

  Burgermeister looked at her with admiration. ‘Great hypothesis! But probably not. We did the same set of experiments last year, and it looks like the sea kraits are in no hurry at all.’

  Could his enthusiasm possibly be genuine? It did seem to be. ‘What’s the point of doing it all again?’ she asked.

  ‘We’re repeating everything now to confirm last year’s results. Or not. Last year could have been aberrant: a rare fuck-fest, or a rare year of celibacy. How is anyone to know if we don’t check?’

  ‘And if you do confirm your results?’

  ‘Ah, then we publish, dammit! Fame and glory, Detective Sergeant! The Nobel Prize for Herpetology is within my grasp!’

  She liked him so much she couldn’t help going along with his hype. ‘I didn’t know there was a Nobel prize for herpetology.’

  ‘There isn’t. What I just said was bullshit,’ Burgermeister said.

  Singh was becoming intrigued now. ‘How do you know which snakes to put together? Do they hang round in groups, have friends, and so on?’

  He gasped, wagging his finger at her. ‘Oh, I could make a scientist of you, girl! Another good question, and one we’ve asked ourselves. Turns out they’re basically loners, apart from the mating season.’

  ‘Are there any useful applications of all this?’ she asked.

  Burgermeister’s flesh quivered in mock horror, while Anil and Wes laughed out loud. ‘Useful? Oh, you disappoint me. But yes. We’re collecting venom to develop an anti-venene to treat victims of their bite. The venom analysis could also lead to pharmaceutical applications later.’

  Singh stepped back from the pen. ‘Venom—you mean they’re poisonous?’

  ‘Oh yeah. Extremely! But they’re not in the least aggressive. Fishermen sometimes get bitten when the snakes get tangled in their nets. Sometimes die.’

  ‘They look quite tangled in there, Bill.’

  ‘Don’t worry. They’re otherwise occupied and you’re not gonna disturb them, hey?’ He turned to Wes and Anil. ‘Which reminds me, you slackers, when are you due to check your pens?’

  ‘Ten thirty,’ Wes said.

  ‘Do you both need to talk to our new honours student here?’

  Singh was annoyed she’d let herself be distracted. It was high time she took over from the professor. ‘Bill, I can work around your timetable easily.’

  She addressed Anil. ‘I do need to speak to you, but I can wait until you’re free. In the meantime, perhaps I could see Sitiveni Doka. Is he around?’

  The professor butted in before Anil could answer. ‘No, Steve went over to Delanarua earlier. We’re looking into the homing behaviour of the sea kraits and he’s gone to check on that. We used to be able to beg a boat from our friends here
at the resort just about any time, but since their outboard theft, it’s more difficult. So Anil’s gotta go back in our dinghy to pick him up around four this afternoon.’

  ‘Well, I’d better not enquire into how you study the homing behaviour of sea kraits or I’ll never be able to drag myself away.’

  Anil spoke up. ‘You could come to Delanarua with me this afternoon and I’ll tell you all about it on the way. Maybe talk to Steve on the way back. Might save you some time.’

  She’d seen an aluminium dinghy pulled up on the beach when she arrived. Compared with the Paradise runabout, it seemed very small. ‘Thanks, Anil, I’ll see how the rest of the day goes and let you know.’

  ‘Sergeant, we’re getting in the way of your job. Anil, I’ll check your pens if you’re not done with the sergeant by ten thirty. Please take a seat at our dining table, Sergeant, and I’ll put the kettle on.’

  A pickle jar of beach hibiscus and spikes of tiny white flowers welcomed her to the weathered pine trestle that occupied half the length of the shed. Burgermeister was busy at another trestle with a kitchen set-up at the back. She sat down but Anil hesitated. ‘What is it, Anil?’

  Anil shrugged. ‘Nothing, ma’am. Never questioned by the police before.’

  ‘Anil, I’m here to find out how Akanisi died, and I’m sure you can see why that’s vital, quite apart from it being a requirement of the law. At this stage, we’re trying to get a picture of Akanisi’s life, especially the last few days. You did know her, right?’

  He stepped over the bench opposite her and sat. ‘Sure, but not really well. She was usually with Maika, and, you know. . .’ He lowered his head, his face hidden by tangles of hair. He seemed more comfortable that way.

  ‘When did you meet Nisi, Anil?’

  ‘Nearly four months ago, when I came here to work for Bill’s field work camp. I’ve worked here before as a student. I finished my M.Sc. last semester, so now I’m employed as a biologist.’

  ‘Congratulations, that must have been a lot of work.’

  ‘Yep, but it’s cool.’

  ‘Tell me about how you met Nisi.’

  ‘Through Maika. He’s always helped us out with boats, and we started hanging out with the young guys on the resort. Nisi often came with Maika to visit us. She was nice, really nice.’

  ‘What did they do while they were here?’

  ‘If we couldn’t take a break, they’d help us where they could. A lot of what we do is pretty much routine. You can train anyone to do it in an hour. Less. Nisi liked painting the numbers on the sea kraits and clipping their scales. Maika’s a licensed diver, so we trained him to help with the underwater surveys of different species.’

  ‘Did Nisi ever come to the camp by herself?’

  ‘Yes, she did, and more often recently. She’d walk over by the track when she had free time but Maika didn’t, I guess. You see what Bill’s like. He hooks anyone who’s even a bit interested.’

  The professor waddled over and placed a tray on the table. He unloaded a carton of UHT milk, a plastic sugar container, steaming aluminium teapot, three large melamine mugs and a plate piled with thick slices of fruit cake. He looked at Singh sternly.

  ‘Eat plenty of fruit cake, girl. Very sustaining in this climate, y’know. I’ll pour my tea first and take it with me to start your ten thirty obs, Anil. Take your time.’

  As he plodded away, Singh poured tea for them both, added sugar to hers and said, ‘Seems like a good boss.’

  Anil nodded. ‘Yeah, the best, I reckon. He’s tough as, you soon learn near enough’s not good enough. None of us knows much, but he always says we and us, always tells people we’re working with him, not for him.’

  ‘Anil, do you know of any conflict involving Nisi?’

  He looked at her directly, his eyes opened wide. ‘No, not at all. We all liked her here. I don’t think anyone could dislike her.’ He ripped open the UHT carton, added milk to his tea and sipped it.

  ‘When did you last see her?’

  ‘At lunch on Saturday. We were all invited to that. I didn’t speak to her, but I saw her waiting on tables.’

  ‘Did you notice anything unusual at the lunch, even if Nisi wasn’t involved?’

  ‘Not really, other than how crowded it was. I don’t understand Fijian well, so a lot of the speeches escaped me.’

  ‘You must be excited about the marine reserve happening. I imagine you were all in a mood to celebrate on Saturday.’

  ‘Yes, especially Bill and Wes. I felt a bit out of it, you know, being Indian. It was really a day for the Fijians.’ Anil shrugged, swallowed more tea and bit into a piece of cake.

  ‘Well, Bill’s American isn’t he? Didn’t he celebrate?’

  ‘Yep, he deserved to. More than anyone.’ Anil shrugged.

  ‘What did you do after lunch?’ she asked.

  ‘I hung around the jetty with Steve and Wes to watch the chief’s boat take off to do the blessing. Then we walked back around to the resort beach to wait for the boat there. That’s what most people did.’

  ‘Did you see what happened to the chief’s boat?’

  He looked directly at her again. ‘Yes, it suddenly tipped sideways, looked like it was going to capsize. But I couldn’t tell what caused it.’

  ‘How could Jona make a mistake like that, d’you think?’

  ‘Dunno.’ Anil shrugged.

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I watched. Wes and Steve jumped into the water and swam out to help. Once the chief and the minister got ashore, everyone seemed to be having a good time splashing around. I walked back here and had a nap.’

  ‘Did you see Nisi at the beach?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, she wasn’t there.’

  ‘Was it likely you’d have noticed her among the crowd?’

  Anil answered immediately. ‘Likely? I’d say so. I’d have known if she was there.’ He took a hasty swig of tea and looked up at Susie, his brown eyes brimming.

  15

  SUVA

  Horseman stood on the footpath outside Harley Consulting Chambers, wishing he’d handled Mrs Nath’s obstructive behaviour better. He was definitely rusty and glad Singh hadn’t witnessed the disaster. An empty taxi lumbered up the hill towards him. On an impulse, he hailed it and got in. If Mrs Nath had just rung Dr Chakra, he might be at home.

  The grey-haired driver smiled and held out his hand. ‘Bula vinaka, Josefa Horseman,’ he said in Fijian. ‘Good to see you back in Fiji.’

  Horseman relaxed into Fijian again, his exasperation melting away with the language switch. ‘Bula vinaka. It’s good to be back.’

  ‘It’s my great pleasure to drive the star of the Hong Kong Sevens, Josefa. Where are you off to this morning?’

  ‘Vinaka. Up the hill to Prince’s Road, Tamavua. Do you know Dr Chakra’s place?’

  ‘Io, you can enjoy the view as we go along. The old girl’s got to take it a bit easy these days, you know, Josefa. She’ll get there, but it doesn’t do to rush her, eh? Touch of the arthritis in the hips, like me.’ He chuckled, patting the Toyota’s dashboard affectionately.

  ‘Suits me. Ex-army, are you, sir? If it’s not a rude question.’

  ‘Io, I’m an old soldier. I was Corporal Livai Yayawa. I was only ever a peace-keeper—but that’s better, eh? Lebanon, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Kosovo. I was discharged when I returned, so I bought the old girl with my savings. Bought her sister too, my son drives her.’

  ‘Good to hear it. You’ve done well, Livai.’

  ‘We’ll manage. God will provide, eh?’

  Once past the congested Samabula junction, Horseman began to enjoy the drive. The spacious lawns and gardens of the Australian High Commission sloped down to a low white stucco wall almost obscured by creeping fig and bougainvillea. Prince
s Road climbed along the ridge of the Suva peninsula through suburbs elevated both geographically and socially. The lucky residents enjoyed spectacular views, sea breezes, spacious homes.

  Horseman broke the silence. ‘Things are happening along here, aren’t they? Look, there’s another concrete building going up. That must be the third I’ve noticed along the eastern side. I remember there was a little wooden house there a year ago. Another embassy?’

  ‘I hear it’s a new home for one of the lawyers.’

  ‘It sure wouldn’t be for one of the police!’ Horseman enjoyed the driver’s appreciative chuckle.

  Just before the perfectly tended shrubbery at the entrance to the Japanese Embassy, Livai turned left into a private bitumen driveway. It curved steeply down to a tight turning circle positioned rather precariously on a narrow terrace eight metres below the embassy. Two long, narrow houses had been squeezed onto the ledge, linked by a carport between them. They looked identical, their back walls less than two metres from the cliff face festooned with red bougainvillea and golden alamanda. He hoped the plants could hold the unstable red clay in place under the onslaught of a cyclonic deluge. The low white stucco buildings looked pretty under their brilliant floral waterfall, but he could easily imagine them buried in red earth slipped from above, or even toppled as the terrace slumped into the gorge below.

  ‘Livai, how was this site ever approved for houses?’

  ‘You’d know better than I, Josefa.’

  ‘Come on, man, no one knows better than a taxi driver!’

  Livai grinned. ‘Flattery from the police? I’d better take care, eh? I really don’t know, Josefa, but it’s always who you know, eh? Unless it’s who you can buy, or who you can threaten. Must be one or more of those in such cases as this.’

  Washing hung from lines strung in one of the car spaces so Livai pulled into the other. Horseman got out and walked to the edge of the terrace to take a good look at the buildings. Dr Chakra’s was the house further away from the road, with the better view down the valley and out to sea. There was no sign of life.