DEATH ON PARADISE ISLAND: Fiji Islands Mysteries 1

by B. M. Allsopp

  Singh said, ‘It all depends on how sick Nisi was, doesn’t it? I mean, it would be interesting to know the exact nature of her illness and whether it was due to the miscarriage, but that’s not crucial to understanding how she died. How probable is it that she dropped dead or fell into the water unconscious, hitting her head on a rock? That’s what we need to know first. Probably only Dr Young can tell us that.’

  ‘I agree,’ Taleca said. ‘But, supposing that did happen, how did she end up where she did? I’ve checked the shoreline right around the island, and there’s nowhere she could have fallen where she’d be washed out on that ebbing tide except at the resort. Okay, there are two places at the resort: the end of the jetty and possibly the end of the sea wall at the main beach. But those places are so public, and particularly so on that afternoon, that someone would have seen her.’

  ‘Unless we revive the scenario that she fell and was trampled in the stampede to the boat at the main beach. That would be more likely if she was ill, or even just dizzy. What do you think?’ Singh asked.

  Taleca shook his head. ‘It’s just possible, but unlikely, Sarge. If she hurried back from the western beach, where we know she watched the boat pass by, she’d probably have been on the fringes of the spectators for the final blessing. There were a lot of people watching, as well as those who rushed in to help the VIPs. Wouldn’t someone have noticed her long before she was washed out?’

  ‘You’re right, Keli,’ she answered, looking dejected.

  Horseman put his fork down, tilted his chair back and pronounced, ‘In my opinion, the most likely way she entered the water, dead or alive, is from a boat.’

  Singh nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I agree. Could she have been alone on a boat any time that afternoon?’

  Horseman rocked his chair back and forth for a bit. ‘No, after the ceremony all the resort boats were out ferrying the day visitors back to other islands or Navua. Not that the records are much help. There aren’t separate entries for each boat trip like on normal days. Just a note that all boats were in use.’

  He brightened and swung the front legs of his chair back to the floor. ‘But what about a resort kayak? Or a catamaran? If she was sick or faint and the craft capsized, she might not have been able to get back on board. She could have hung on to the craft until she lost consciousness and slipped into the water.’

  Singh nodded. ‘It’s possible, sir. I understand the kayaks are self-righting and unsinkable. But if one rolled, a dead or nearly unconscious person could fall out. Then the resort would be missing a kayak. We can check on that.’

  ‘Yes, if no kayaks were missing, or found beached, we can rule out that scenario. But I think it’s more likely that, dead or alive, she was in a boat with someone else, who threw her in the sea,’ Horseman said.

  Taleca spoke up. ‘It’s very frustrating. I could almost wish she’d been stabbed or strangled—at least we could concentrate on finding the culprit instead of still speculating on how she died four days afterwards.’

  The proprietor approached with tea and a plate of dainty Indian sweets. ‘Compliments of the house, Ovisas.’ He poured the tea with a flourish and left them alone again. The three detectives sipped in silence for a moment.

  Horseman resumed his line of thought. ‘Let’s focus for now on the most probable circumstances, even though we can’t exclude the others totally. Nisi was attacked, on land or in a boat, she suffered a head wound. Her attacker or an accomplice dumped her in the sea from a boat of some kind. Almost impossible to prove unless we get a confession. So, it’s urgent we check on the whereabouts of all the kayaks and catamarans that afternoon. Keli, I want you to ring Mr McKenzie, ask him about their procedures for monitoring the use of the guest craft and if any were missing last Saturday.’

  ‘Right, boss. I’ll get him to fax copies of whatever records they keep. Leave it to me.’

  ‘Then I want you to track down Winston Lee. He was on an all-day fishing trip when we were on Vula yesterday, so we haven’t questioned him about being seen with Nisi on the western beach. Adi Litia believes he came to Suva on business this morning. Try the up-market lunch places and the Chinese restaurants too. Get Ashok in photography to work his magic with the copy of Lee’s passport photo and circulate A4 copies to uniforms on the Suva beat. I’ll tell Ashok this is ultra-urgent.’

  ‘Right, boss.’

  ‘Lee’s a keen kayaker too,’ Singh said. ‘He paddled all the way to Delanarua and back to Paradise on Monday.’

  Horseman worried about their increasingly diverse lines of enquiry. ‘Yes, Lee’s urgent. But I want you to follow up Nisi’s pathology test results, Sergeant Singh. Matt Young’s still waiting on some lab results for her, and on Ledua’s herbal concoctions too. We’ve got to know if there’s any indication she could have lost consciousness from infection or drugs.’

  ‘No problem, sir.’

  Horseman glanced at his watch. ‘Let’s get cracking on those jobs now, but we’ll drop everything when the search warrant comes through. I’ll take Tanielo Musudroka with me to Chakra’s surgery. Kelepi, you’ll go with Sergeant Singh to his house at the same time. I left him writing his statement. Constable Epeli will type it up while Dr Chakra waits to check it and sign. I reminded Epeli of the need for accuracy, not speed. I can’t force Dr Chakra to wait of course, but with some luck the warrant will be signed before Dr Chakra’s statement.’ He smiled at his colleagues in anticipation.

  30

  SUVA

  At three o’clock a few weary-looking patients sat on the narrow stairs leading up to Dr Chakra’s consulting rooms. Their lethargy lifted at the purposeful approach of the two blue-uniformed officers, the detectives and the two specialist search officers with their cases and zipped bags. Curious, they jumped up smartly and climbed to the landing for a view of whatever was about to happen.

  ‘Police, excuse us please,’ the leading constable said as he reached the landing. Horseman’s knee protested at the steepness and he wondered again at the medical practitioners’ choice of premises. Dr Chakra’s door was locked, but Horseman could hear the radio was on. A chair scraped in response to their loud knock. No one came to the door.

  ‘This is the police. Open up, please.’ The constable’s voice was commanding. The waiting patients had now edged forward into the corridor. The second constable motioned them back. A few obeyed, retreating to the landing; the others just made themselves smaller, lowering their heads and trying to merge into the wall. They all waited. The constable struck the door with his baton and shouted. ‘Police. We have warrants to enter and search the premises of Dr Vijay Chakra. Open the door please.’ The radio still murmured, but no other sound broke the silence.

  ‘What’s all this? Officers, please!’ Horseman recognised Dr Pillai’s light tenor voice, and as the police at the door turned away, saw him approach the door, holding his keys aloft.

  ‘Ah, Dr Pillai, you’ve come just at the right time. But I’m surprised to see you. I understood Dr Chakra was taking surgery this afternoon.’

  The doctor seemed only mildly perturbed. ‘Good afternoon, Detective Inspector. Yes, Wednesday’s his afternoon, but he asked me to take over for him today. What’s going on here? Anything wrong?’ When Horseman explained the situation and produced the warrant, he became grave. ‘What’s happened to Mrs Nath? Why hasn’t she opened the door to you? My goodness, this is concerning. Come in, come in.’

  The waiting room was empty. Horseman followed Dr Pillai into the surgery. Mrs Nath’s face peeped out between the drawn curtains of the examination couch. She emerged frightened but still defiant, her head held high. ‘I didn’t know what to do, Dr Pillai! I could not let these men invade Dr Chakra’s premises.’ Her pitch rose to a quivering treble.

  Dr Pillai patted her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Nath. It’s alright. Goodness me, the police have the proper authority to look t
hrough our rooms and really, you know, it’s our civic duty to assist them anyway. I’m sorry you were distressed. Are you alright now? Perhaps you could make us a cup of tea? Officers?’

  The police party saved Mrs Nath further outrage by declining. ‘I’m sure you won’t think us rude if Mrs Nath and I have one. Make a large pot, please Mrs Nath, the officers may change their minds.’ The receptionist glared at them all but set about her task briskly enough. ‘What is it that you’re looking for, Detective Inspector Horseman?’

  Before he could reply, the constable at the outer door came into the surgery with a middle-aged, scholarly-looking man carrying a fat briefcase. Horseman intercepted him. ‘Vinaka, Constable—yes, I’m expecting Dr Ali.’ He shook the newcomer’s dry, bony hand. ‘You’re the chief pharmacist from the hospital? Thank you so much for making the time, Doctor.’

  ‘Not at all. If you don’t have the time, you have no choice but to make it, eh? Always happy to help Matt Young. I know he wouldn’t ask anything that wasn’t important. I’ve brought the drug schedule as he suggested. If you could explain exactly what you want, I’ll get on with it right away.’

  Dr Pillai was obviously unsettled by Horseman’s explanation of the drug audit and search process, but he had the good sense not to resist and unlocked all the secure storage in the surgery. Horseman directed Musudroka to shadow Tomasi, the senior search officer. While they checked the surgery’s contents methodically, Horseman returned to the waiting room, nearly colliding with Mrs Nath’s tea tray.

  ‘Let me take that from you, Mrs Nath. Shall I put it on the desk?’

  ‘I’ll do my job and you do yours, Inspector,’ she replied haughtily, and pointedly took the tray over to a side cupboard.

  Dr Pillai, at the far side of the room, could not have heard her, or surely he would not have called out cheerily, ‘Thank you, Mrs Nath, we’ll pour for ourselves. You take your own cup and show the officers the files, or whatever they need, please.’ He turned to Horseman, his tone apologetic. ‘We do have patients waiting, so I would like to open the surgery as soon as possible.’

  ‘Understood, doctor. I’m truly grateful for your cooperation.’ Horseman waited while Mrs Nath poured tea into a china mug decorated with yellow roses, added two teaspoons of sugar, then led the way to her domain behind the reception counter.

  The clutter on her L-shaped workspace surprised him. Along with the commander phone, computer and foolscap appointment book, jumbled together were rough heaps of papers, note-books and folders of various sizes and several spike stands, almost hidden by the wads of mismatched paper impaled on them.

  ‘Could you show me how you organise your patient records, Mrs Nath? Do you have a hard copy or CD backup for the computer files?’

  The receptionist looked blank, staring at him as if he’d spoken a strange language. After some time she said, ‘The computer has templates of various documents that I fill in and print out. That’s all I am using it for. Patient records are on these index cards.’ She gestured to a set of steel index drawers which occupied the far left of the bench return, against the wall. A portable electric typewriter sat on top of them. Probably Dr Chakra had achieved much in getting Mrs Nath to use a computer at all.

  ‘I am still using my typewriter for envelopes. So superior to that mail-merge on the computer. Hopeless, that is!’

  ‘You’ve got a point there. Mrs Nath, I just have a few names to check.’

  ‘Give them to me, then.’

  He tried to sound gentle. ‘The terms of my warrant require that I check them myself, Mrs Nath.’

  ‘Wait while I am getting Dr Pillai to authorise this!’ Her stout little body quivered indignantly as she marched into the surgery. When she returned with the doctor, her mouth was clenched tight in an effort to hold back the tears that already filled her eyes.

  Dr Pillai spoke kindly, patting her shoulder. ‘Now, my dear lady, you take your tea into the surgery, sit down, drink it, and leave me to help Inspector Horseman.’ When she had left the room, the doctor smiled. ‘She’s so proprietorial, I’m afraid. My goodness, she’s looked after this practice for twenty five years, much longer than Dr Chakra, even. A good soul, but. . . as you see.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Quite understandable, Doctor. I have a few names to check. Mrs Nath said you don’t have patient records on computer. Is that correct?’

  ‘I fear so, Detective Inspector. And we’re unlikely to make that change while Mrs Nath is with us. Still, she’s quite efficient, you know, and it goes without saying she’s devoted to the practice.’

  ‘You’re welcome to watch while I delve into the index cards, Doctor. Then I’ll hand over to the search officer, who’s anxious for me to get out of his way.’ Tomasi had come through from the surgery and was looking critically around the simply furnished waiting room. After a few minutes with the card index, Horseman failed to find any records for Nisi or key Paradise staff: the McKenzies, Dawson, Adi Litia, Ledua and Jona. He waved Tomasi over.

  Horseman turned to Doctor Pillai. ‘I’ve finished now, thank you. I might take you up on your offer of a cuppa while Tomasi looks at the computer.’

  At first Dr Pillai looked doubtful, but innate kindness got the better of him. ‘Please do, I might have another myself. Come through.’

  Horseman poured tea for them both. He decided to share an idea that had just occurred to him, even though the timing was not propitious. ‘Dr Pillai, you’ve told me about your love of rugby and your concerns about athletes’ health. Let me tell you about a crime prevention project I’m starting up here in Suva.’ He proceeded to outline his vision for the Junior Shiners. Dr Pillai listened intently.

  The pharmacist was kneeling on the surgery floor checking through the contents of a low drawer. While Horseman downed his tea and talked with Dr Pillai, Dr Ali made notes on his thick document, re-packed the drawer, put his own things in his briefcase and got to his feet. ‘All done now. Afraid I’ve got to rush back to the hospital. I will telephone you, Detective Inspector.’ He handed Horseman his card.

  Dr Ali turned to Dr Pillai. ‘Thank you so much for your cooperation, Dr Pillai. I’ve retained some medications for further examination. Here’s the list. Could you check them and sign please?’ He held out a clear plastic bag containing several small boxes and bottles.

  Dr Pillai looked confused. ‘My goodness, I suppose I have to. . . very well.’ He took a minute to match the labels with the list and signed.

  Dr Ali shook hands with Dr Pillai, murmuring more apologetic courtesies.

  Horseman said, ‘I’m grateful to you, Dr Ali. I’ll wait for your call.’

  The police team were less than ten minutes behind Dr Ali. The number of waiting patients had grown, but in the end Mrs Nath was able to usher them in only an hour late. No one in Fiji would complain about that.

  Once outside Horseman rang Singh. ‘Got anything, Susie?’

  ‘We’re heading back from Dr Chakra’s house now, sir. He was already back at home when we knocked on his door and he went purple with rage. I think you can cheer up a bit. Kelepi found an unmarked box at the back of a desk drawer. Inside are foil sheets of tablets, labelled Misoprosol and Mifeprostone. Kelepi’s ecstatic—he found it.’

  ‘Wonderful! Great work! Drop it in to Dr Ali in the pharmacy unit of the hospital on your way back. He’ll need to confirm exactly what it is. He’ll call me later when he’s checked the items he took away from the surgery.’

  The searchers were piling into the police vehicle when Horseman heard a familiar voice cut through his colleagues’ conversation and the traffic noise. ‘Su-sine, auntie, su-sine, uncle, su-sine, su-sine, suuuu-siiiine!’ Then three resounding raps of the brush handle on the box. He spotted Tevita further down, outside the optometrist’s premises. Had the boy discovered that spectacle wearers were well-heeled? Or was he merely hoping? He told the driver to w
ait.

  Tevita saw him coming, stopped his rapping, and grinned a welcome. He’d lost half a front tooth. ‘Joe, Joe, bula, bula!’

  Despite the kid’s poor situation and worse prospects, the exuberance with which he plied his trade somehow lifted Horseman’s spirits. ‘Bula vinaka, Tevita. How are you? Looks like you’ve been fighting.’

  ‘No way, Joe, rugby. Practising down Albert Park with boys. Trials on soon, Joe. Gotta train hard. You know!’

  On closer inspection the poor kid was sporting more than his usual array of scabs and bruises. ‘Tevita, I’ve got something to show you, perhaps you can help me.’ He handed Lee’s photo to the boy, who examined it closely.

  ‘Joe, I see today! Io Joe, I see this Chinese man! Brown sandals! What he done, Joe?’

  ‘Nothing, Tevita, but he might be able to help me with my case. Where did you see him?’ Tevita was probably mistaken, but Horseman dared to hope.

  ‘Market, Joe. I set up there this morning. I polish his brown sandals. He talking to turtle vendors. Long time, Joe. Look at turtles and talk to vendors.’

  ‘Are you quite sure it was the man in the picture?’

  The boy’s smile vanished, his brown eyes rounded, his delicate pride bruised. ‘Io Joe, true!’

  Horseman clicked his heels and saluted. ‘Vinaka vakalevu, Tevita.’ Their hands smacked in a celebratory high five. As he turned down the hill towards the market, the energetic rapping resumed behind him.

  31

  SUVA

  ‘Let me put it like this, Matt,’ said Horseman. He leaned forward over the table, anxious for the answer he needed. ‘Susie’s told me you think it’s unlikely, but can you rule out the possibility that Nisi died of natural causes related to the abortion? An infection, like you suggested.’ The pathologist frowned, took a few thoughtful sips from his glass of beer as he gazed at the glassy waters of the bay and the hazy horizon beyond the greenery of the Waterfront’s gardens.