DEATH ON PARADISE ISLAND: Fiji Islands Mysteries 1

by B. M. Allsopp

  ‘Almost, mate. A few cases made headlines in the media in the States, where young women died of systemic infection following apparently successful use of these same drugs. Tragic. But such cases are very rare. It’s a shame I haven’t got the results back from toxicology yet, I’ll know then. But it’s my bet she got that wound before she entered the sea.’

  ‘Take me through your reasoning again, Matt. I need to be sure I’m looking at this right.’

  ‘Okay, mate. Let’s start with the assumption that someone found dead in the water has drowned. Nisi had a bit of water in her lungs, but nowhere near as much as someone who was conscious and struggling to breathe would have. Also we know she was a strong swimmer. Therefore she must have been dead, unconscious or in a severely weakened state when she entered the water.’

  ‘Fine, I’ve got that.’

  ‘Second, her head wound didn’t penetrate the skull, but could still have been fatal. You never know with brain trauma. Sometimes people die after what seems to be a minor head injury—just minutes later. She could certainly have been stunned or knocked out by that impact, which would explain why she wasn’t able to swim to safety.’

  ‘I’m with you so far. But tell me how you know she didn’t knock her head on a rock diving into the water.’ Horseman craved certainty.

  ‘That’s the third crucial piece of evidence, Joe. The main damage to Nisi’s brain is under the head wound and that’s typical when a moving object impacts a stationary head. We call it coup injury. When a moving head strikes a stationary object, the focus of brain damage is on the side opposite the impact—that’s contre coup injury. Of course, there’s diffuse tissue damage as well, caused by shock waves through the brain in either case.’

  ‘Vinaka. So if the toxicology’s clear, we can be sure she was killed by someone who knocked her on the head then dumped her in the sea?’

  Dr Young nodded, serious. ‘Yeah, 99 per cent, mate. Such a pity her parents washed her, oiled and combed her hair. No traces of the weapon at all.’

  This still rankled with Horseman but there was no point harbouring resentment about it. He understood why the parents had done what they’d done and it couldn’t be undone. ‘I’ll be sweating on those tox results so we can be certain it was murder.’

  ‘It takes time, Joe. As I told Susie this afternoon, I’ll look in at the lab tomorrow, see how it’s going.’

  ‘Vinaka. The searches were worthwhile, though. Dr Ali rang to say the drugs found in Chakra’s house are abortion drugs and there’s a match with the foil we found on the island. Everything at the surgery was pretty much above board. Just a few drugs past their use-by dates, which he took away with him. No patient records for Nisi, nor any of the Paradise staff. His resort clinic records must be all that exist.’

  ‘You sound disappointed,’ Dr Young said with a smile.

  ‘It’s good to return from the hunt with a kill, Matt. Dr Ali’s helping us understand the records, Tomasi’s delving into the computer. I’ll be surprised if we find any evidence of abortions but it’s just possible he got over-confident. He’s arrogant enough. The super’s looking into charges over the abortion drugs, and supplying them to Nisi. I’m talking to Chakra tomorrow morning. He refused to see me tonight—he was incendiary about the search. He should be more cooperative in the morning after a night considering his options. No doubt his solicitor. . .’

  The first drops of rain, swollen and heavy, plonked onto his arm. He abandoned his sentence and looked up. Although the sun was still shining in the west, black clouds had rolled in behind them from the south-east and were now overhead.

  ‘Lovely light, isn’t it?’ Dr Young said. ‘Weird sort of green. I think we’re going to get drenched.’ They picked up their drinks and headed indoors to the packed bar lounge. He scanned the crowded tables near the band, but forgot about listening to jazz when he caught sight of Bill Burgermeister waddling over from the direction of the bar.

  ‘Hey, buddies!’ Burgermeister was all enthusiasm. ‘Matt, it’s been yonks. What are the good guys doin’ in a place like this?’ He chuckled. ‘Looking for a table? Why don’t you join me? Plenty of room. Whaddya say?’

  Dr Young glanced at Horseman. ‘Fine by me.’

  ‘Vinaka, Professor,’ said Horseman.

  Burgermeister winced. ‘Ouch! Call me Bill. Please!’ Squeezing between the packed tables, he led the way across the room to a nook screened by potted palms. The man hunched over the low coffee table turned his head. It was too good to be true. Here, in a blue and white bula shirt, was Winston Lee. Horseman stepped back, rang the station to call off the search, then caught up with Burgermeister and Dr Young.

  Burgermeister made the introductions. ‘I guess you’ve met Winston at Paradise already.’

  He couldn’t have given Horseman a better lead in. ‘No, but I’ve read your statement, Mr Lee, and I’d like to discuss it with you.’

  Burgermeister interjected. ‘Joe, we’re all on first name terms, okay?’

  Dr Young smiled in apology. ‘Joe’s never quite off-duty, you know. Tell me, have you two known each other long?’

  ‘Oh sure, a few years now. Winston was our first customer for FIMS Aquarium Supplies. One of our best, too. He’s a big player in the business in Hong Kong, y’know.’

  Lee shook his head modestly. ‘Oh, you exaggerate, Bill. Hong Kong’s a big market—there are many suppliers. I only deal in top quality stock, which is why I buy from FIMS.’

  Dr Young shot a warning glance at Horseman and asked, ‘How’s the FIMS business going now, Bill? I’ve only been back from Sydney a few months. I’m out of touch.’

  ‘We’re doin’ okay, Matt. Listen, who’s peckish? What say you and I get another round and order some food from the bar?’

  ‘Sure. Any special requests, gentlemen?’ Dr Young asked. The other two shook their heads. ‘Good, Bill and I will get what we like.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ Horseman smiled at Lee. ‘It’s really great luck running into you like this. If I could ask you a few questions now, that would save us both time.’

  Lee smiled a formal business smile. ‘Maybe it would be better another time. I’m returning to Paradise for dinner this evening. Bill and I are catching the resort boat leaving Navua at eight.’

  If Lee caught a cab from The Waterfront at seven, he’d catch that boat with time to spare. As if the man didn’t know that. Horseman made a show of checking his watch. ‘You don’t need to leave here for another forty minutes. I won’t be able to get out to Paradise tomorrow. I promise I’ll be quick.’

  ‘I know you are quick, Joe. I’ve seen you play in the Hong Kong Sevens. Great tournament. I always support Fiji, you see. But I really don’t know what I can tell you that is not in my statement.’ Although Lee’s English was excellent, the flat, even rhythm of his speech gave away his origins.

  ‘You were on the beach west of the staff quarters with Nisi and Guy Dawson when the blessing boat passed by.’

  ‘Yes, I was. As I noted in my statement.’ Lee’s face was calm, smooth like his voice.

  Horseman smiled apologetically. ‘I’m afraid you left that out, actually.’

  Lee didn’t miss a beat. ‘Really? I wonder how I came to omit that? Must have been the shock, I guess. Nisi suddenly dead.’

  Horseman nodded. ‘Were you close?’

  ‘Not at all, Joe. You must have seen what it’s like at Paradise. Boutique resort, staff always friendly and keen to please. The personal touch. It’s wonderful to be a guest there, that is why I keep coming back. Nisi was like the other maids: friendly and helpful, even chatty. I didn’t know her better than any of them. I certainly hadn’t known her as long as the others. She was working there on my last visit, so that’s when I met her. Now, people like Sai, Ledua and Essie—I have known them for five years.’

  ‘How did you
come to be there together last Saturday?’

  Lee raised an eyebrow. ‘How? I ran into Nisi after lunch, just as she was leaving the kitchen. I told her I was going to look for a vantage point away from the crowds to watch the chief’s boat. Nisi said the beach further around to the west would be good, and that she would go with me. We met Guy on the way.’

  ‘How did Nisi seem to you?’ Horseman asked.

  ‘Seem?’

  ‘Yes, did she seem well, happy, sad, worried? What impression did you get of her mood?’

  ‘She did say she was tired after all the extra work they’d done preparing for the big day. But she seemed happy enough to me. Enjoying the excitement of it all.’

  ‘What did you talk about?’

  ‘Not a lot. She told me she was in charge of the decorations. She was pleased about that. I told her what a good job she had done, not that I really noticed. Not my thing. She asked me what I thought about the marine reserve, so I said how wonderful it all was.’

  ‘You sound sceptical.’

  Lee shrugged slightly. ‘I’ll wait and see how it works in practice.’

  ‘What else did you talk about?’ Horseman asked.

  ‘That was about it. When the chief’s boat motored past we waved and it slowed down. Nisi explained the blessing ritual, which was really nothing more than prayers for the health and abundance of the lagoon species. Then we walked back to see the grand finale at the main beach, when the chief would return samples of those species to the sea. As it turned out, that was more dramatic than planned, with the chief and minister tipped into the sea. Almost. Well worth seeing!’ Lee smirked.

  Lee’s amusement at what he probably regarded as primitive antics rankled with Horseman, but he let it go. ‘Where did the three of you watch from?’

  Lee paused, frowning. ‘I was on my own, actually, on the terrace. I thought I’d have a better view from there, over the heads of the crowd on the beach.’

  ‘And Nisi and Guy?’

  ‘They ran off ahead of me. Nisi wanted to race the boat, like a kid. I looked around when I got there but I couldn’t see them.’

  Guy Dawson claimed Nisi had returned with Lee. Either Dawson or Lee was lying, possibly both. But Lee wouldn’t be one to change his story just because someone else contradicted it. Horseman was sure of that. A waiter brought the drinks Burgermeister had ordered and a bowl of bhuja. Horseman scooped a handful: he’d missed the spicy snack mix in Oregon. The band had switched to a jaunty Caribbean rhythm.

  ‘Ah, St Thomas, one of my favourites.’ Horseman tapped his feet, jigged his head and shoulders in syncopated time.

  Lee looked blank. ‘I’m not into music.’

  ‘What other Fijian commodities do you trade in, Winston? Apart from aquarium fish, I mean.’

  ‘It’s not just fish. FIMS have developed successful techniques for growing certain species of coral, anemones, clams, even nudibranchs that can live in aquariums. Avoids wild harvesting—greenies getting touchy about that now. Expensive, but aquarium fanatics aren’t satisfied with a few pretty fish any more, the next big thing will be to establish a balanced, sustainable ecosystem in a tank. And they’ll pay anything to get the best.’

  ‘That can only be good for both you and FIMS. What about turtles?’

  ‘Hatchlings do okay. Very cute in a big aquarium.’

  Horseman nodded. ‘Does FIMS supply turtle eggs?’

  ‘Of course not—they’re protected. I buy hatchlings collected off certain Hong Kong beaches. You know, only two per cent survive birds and other predators in the wild, so I’m saving their lives.’ He laughed.

  ‘Fascinating.’ An appetising whiff of fried food attracted his attention. Burgermeister and Young appeared with a waiter who set out bowls of samosas, cassava wedges, sour cream and chilli sauce, white linen napkins and shiny forks.

  ‘Just something to take the edge off,’ Burgermeister announced happily. All four men tucked in.

  ‘Winston’s been filling me in on the aquarium trade,’ Horseman said. ‘Certainly fascinating.’

  ‘You should come down to FIMS, Joe. I’d be glad to show you around,’ Burgermeister said.

  ‘I’ll do that, definitely. What about turtle shell, Winston? Do you trade in that?’

  Lee unhurriedly dealt with a mouthful of samosa. ‘As a matter of fact, I do. No need to go checking, Joe. It is all quite legal, under a provision of CITES that protects traditional artisans. I supply hawksbill turtle shell to craftsmen in Hong Kong who transform it into beautiful things—jewellery and exquisite objects. You’ll even find some of them for sale here at the high-end resorts and gift shops.’

  ‘Quite a loophole!’

  ‘There is always a loophole,’ Lee agreed smugly.

  Burgermeister was looking distinctly uncomfortable. He pushed the bowl of wedges towards Horseman. ‘Excellent wedges, Joe. What is it—paprika? Have another!’

  He took another, dipped it in chilli sauce, then paused, fork in mid-air, dripping sauce onto the table. ‘That’s crazy, isn’t it? If this is legal, and I don’t doubt what you’re telling me, it’d make more sense for our own craftsmen to be carving the shell here.’

  ‘As far as I know, there is nothing to stop them. But there’s a lot more to the business than carving, you know.’ Lee looked at his watch. ‘Time I was leaving to catch that boat. A day in Suva has been interesting, but I want to get back to Paradise, to the peace and quiet. Looks like the rain’s stopped for the moment too. Are you coming with me, Bill?’

  ‘Sure. Get us a cab while I use the Men’s, will you?’ Burgermeister pushed himself upright, picked up a canvas bag and headed off.

  ‘Right.’ Lee stood and bowed slightly. ‘Nice to meet you Dr Young, Mr Horseman. Good night.’

  THURSDAY

  32

  SUVA

  At nine o’clock the next morning the big CID room was humming: telephones ringing, voices speaking in English, Fijian and Hindi, footfalls, fax machines beeping and whirring, computer printers chugging and even the halting clacking of typewriter keys and thuds of their carriage returns. Horseman thought the typewriters would have finally been pensioned off with full honours during his absence, but he’d thought wrong. Not only were their diehard fans stubborn, but the machines proved useful during the frequent power cuts. Nevertheless, the invading computers were unstoppable and their complete takeover inevitable. The young detectives competed for desk duties so they could use the computers, where once they would have done anything to get out of the office.

  Horseman reviewed the mounting files and the running summaries for his own case. Through fieldwork and deskwork his own small team had invaded the lives of a number of people only coincidentally involved with Akanisi’s death. Scores of statements had been checked, business and phone records trawled through, fingerprints taken, airline lists and police records searched. But there was no other way. He would discover who had killed her, find him and arrest him. Or her? Keep an open mind!

  There was a mountain of facts about the denizens of Paradise, some of them revealing what their subjects would strongly prefer to keep private, but nothing Horseman could see related to Nisi’s death. Twelve years before, Guy Dawson had been convicted of marijuana possession in New Zealand and fined. Dr Chakra had a string of traffic charges for speeding and illegal parking, all of which he contested in court, pleading medical emergencies. He won some and lost some. Consistent with his arrogant personality, in Horseman’s opinion, but unrelated to Nisi’s death.

  When Jona Vaturua had been working years ago at Port Denarau, he was twice charged with assault against his late wife, but she withdrew the charges each time. Jona should be the prime suspect. If he’d hit his niece on the head in a fit of violence no one would be too surprised. Except his alibi was watertight. Matt Young had estimated Nisi’s death ha
d occurred before 5 pm. Jona had been in full view of others, skippering boats all that afternoon until 6.30 pm. So had Maika, the other obvious suspect. If he’d found out about her pregnancy, and also her abortion, he could have lashed out at her in a confusion of suspicion, jealousy and anger.

  Horseman’s own phone startled him from his thoughts.

  ‘Bula Inspector, Tomasi from Search.’

  ‘Bula vinaka, Tomasi. You’ve got something for me?’

  ‘Interesting cache on Dr Chakra’s surgery computer. Hundreds of pornographic images. My boss has checked it out and unfortunately, nothing we can charge him with. All adults and no evidence of him distributing the stuff on the internet. If he has been, I mean distributing, he’s been very clever.’

  ‘Vinaka, Tomasi. Any chance Mrs Nath stumbled across these by accident?’ Horseman contemplated Mrs Nath’s reaction if she had done so.

  ‘I’d say zero chance, sir. The files were well hidden and protected. Mrs Nath’s skills are minimal, and that’s an overstatement.’

  ‘Pity. I’m talking to the good Dr Chakra in an hour, so call my mobile if there’s any news.’

  Singh handed him a fax just as he was putting the phone down. She looked more formal today: her hair in a severe bun, a blue and white striped business shirt tucked in her navy skirt. Was this in honour of their interview with Chakra?

  ‘This has just come in from Hong Kong, sir,’ she said.

  ‘Good, this’ll be about Winston Lee. I asked my Hong Kong copper mate on the Rugby Sevens Board to check him out.’ He scanned the fax. ‘Interesting but doesn’t help us. Lee was investigated in connection with missing funds from the Hong Kong Water Sports Club when he was the honorary treasurer, but no charges were laid. Another for the files.’