‘Bill, I’m sure you realise you may have been the last person to see Dr Chakra alive. I’ll need a formal statement. Everything you’ve told me and anything else that comes to mind while you’re writing it. It’d be best if you could give it to me before you go back to your camp.’
Burgermeister slumped further in his chair and resumed his fanning. ‘Sure thing, I get it. I’ve got my laptop,’ he muttered. ‘Hell, all I wanna do now is get back to camp, finish packing up and get off this cursed island.’
SATURDAY
38
SUVA
The pathologist and his assistant glanced up as Horseman entered the morgue on Saturday morning. ‘Glad you could come over, Joe,’ Dr Young said. ‘Poor old Vijay’s rather a puzzle.’
Horseman grimaced. ‘Not another one.’ He’d been hoping Chakra would turn out to be a straightforward heart attack. He was desperate to get back to Nisi.
‘Thought I’d have another look today. Leo and I are in the middle of getting the histological specimens ready. I should be able to start work with the microscope later on. I suppose you two have met?’
The plump young technician shook his head shyly. That round face and soft skin made him look about fourteen. And people joked about the youth of police constables! After introducing them, Dr Young rubbed his gloved hands together briskly. ‘But I’m getting somewhere now, otherwise I wouldn’t have called you.’
‘Not a heart attack or a stroke then?’ Horseman knew such everyday causes of death would not excite his friend to this degree.
‘Evidence of heart disease, certainly, but that’s not what killed him. His arteries were narrowed, but not blocked. If he’d lived, he could have done with bypass surgery sometime soon. In fact, it looks like he had a myocardial infarction in the last month or so.’
The cloying chemical smell and the sight of the corpse, dissected so precisely, hit Horseman in the guts. He concentrated on fighting the nausea while the pathologist’s words washed over him.
Dr Young frowned. ‘That’s heart attack to you, Joe. Look here, see this greyish white granular tissue?’ Horseman edged slightly closer as Dr Young thrust a stainless steel bowl too close to his nose and prodded the dissected heart with a scalpel. ‘See, the scar’s almost completely formed, but not quite.’
The rich smell of raw meat spiked with disinfectant made him gag. He fought his natural reflex and won. ‘But he was a doctor.’
‘So? Doctors die of heart attacks all the time, Joe.’
‘Yes, but wouldn’t he have realised he was having a heart attack? Then done something about it? He drank a bottle of whisky last night. . .’ He stopped, struck by how bizarre this conversation was, witnessed by Chakra’s disembodied heart. He swallowed hard again.
The pathologist ignored his reaction, probably oblivious. ‘Huh! Doctors are the very worst at ignoring their symptoms. We know very well what they mean, so we deny them.’ He looked up at Horseman. ‘I’m not joking, it’s true! Doctors are human beings, in case you hadn’t noticed, mate. Our behaviour’s not logical. Life’s not rugby, you know.’ He waved his hand at a chair. ‘You look like you could use a seat, mate. Don’t mind me getting carried away.’ He grinned.
‘It’s fine, Matt.’ However, Horseman sat down. ‘You said you were getting somewhere?’
‘Not conclusive yet, but yeah.’ He reached for a larger stainless steel bowl. ‘But see here—sorry, don’t bother, I’ll tell you. The lungs are congested and there are lots of fine haemorrhages. That suggests asphyxia. But how? No sign of choking or suffocation.’ He picked up a glass beaker. ‘Look at the urine,’ he commanded. The pathologist was a compulsive teacher and, as the technician and he were the only potential students, Horseman obliged. The fluid was dark, like mahogany. ‘Suggests a degree of renal failure. I won’t ask you to look inside the cadaver, but what you’d notice are pale areas in the muscle tissue, where cells have died. The extent of muscle destruction’s surprising.’
‘And you have an idea what caused it?’
‘Yes, an idea, that’s all at this stage. The microscope will show me more. I’ll get a full toxicology screen of the blood, urine, stomach contents and the whisky bottle, at least.’ Dr Young straightened his back, hands on hips. ‘Because it looks like poison to me, Joe.’
Good thing he was sitting down. ‘Poison? What kind of. . .?’
‘Now, mate, I’m sticking my neck out a bit, and I won’t say more without evidence. I’ll lean hard on toxicology. I’ll even offer to go over and help them—that threat ought to get them jumping. But a respected doctor, pillar of the community, you know, could be a high profile case.’
‘Vinaka, Matt. It can’t be too soon, you know.’
‘I heard there’s a specialist toxinologist over at FIMS. I might consult him, depending how the tests pan out.’
He had to stop that happening. ‘Is there anyone else you can consult?’
‘Sure, I could make some calls to people in Sydney and Melbourne. Why?’
The phone rang. Leo answered it, then left the room.
Horseman shrugged off his reluctance to voice his suspicions. ‘Bill Burgermeister was at the resort on Thursday night, copping Chakra’s drunken tirades. So if it’s murder, Bill’s on the short list. The scientific community’s just too small here. Wiser not to consult anyone in Fiji.’
The pathologist’s eyebrows shot up. ‘I see. Yeah, of course.’ He stared at the array of tissue sections he was preparing for the microscope slides. ‘Tell you what, I’ll take the samples over to toxicology myself now—see if they can start them right away. Leo can make up these slides and I’ll start work on them as soon as I get back.’
His friend’s practical support gave Horseman heart. ‘I owe you, Matt.’
Horseman’s knee was protesting at clambering in and out of small boats the previous day so he caught a cab back to the station. Besides, there was a phone call he’d been dreading having to make. Now he could put it off no longer.
39
SUVA
‘Mum? Oh, bula Aunty Miriama, how are you?’ At least his mother’s mobile was switched on and someone had answered it.
‘Oi le! Josefa! I’m fine, thank you. Wait a minute, would you? I’m helping your mother with the cassava puddings for tomorrow—your favourites. She thought you’d ring today, so she charged the phone. She’s got to wash her hands, she’s mixing coconut cream into the mashed banana. The worst time to ring, my dear! We’re all so excited about seeing you tomorrow—the village is a hive of activity, I can tell you. Just a tick. Don’t hang up!’
‘I’ll wait, Aunty, don’t worry.’ He enjoyed hearing again the lilting cadence of the Fijian spoken in inland Viti Levu, his mother’s place.
Aunty Miriama was soon back. ‘Here now, here’s your mother. I’ll hand her the phone.’
He felt even guiltier as he heard his mother’s cheerful voice.
‘Bula, Joe. I’m so glad you rang. Have you solved that poor little girl’s death now?’
‘No Mum. Still, I was planning to come tomorrow. But unfortunately, there’s been another death at Paradise resort. . .’
‘What? God in heaven! What are you saying?’
‘It was the visiting doctor, Mum. He was found dead in bed yesterday morning. At first it seemed like he’d had a heart attack, died in his sleep. But the pathologist has just told me that wasn’t the case and it’s looking suspicious.’
‘Oi le! Poor man. God rest his soul. Who was it? I know a lot of the doctors.’
Of course she did. He should have remembered that. Matron Sala Horseman’s long career and her work for the Nurse’s Association meant she was a walking Who’s Who of Fiji’s medical professions.
‘Vijay Chakra.’ The phone was silent for a few moments.
‘Really? God rest his soul.’ His mother�
��s lively voice flattened, hardened.
‘So, Mum, I’m terribly sorry, but it’s all hands on deck tomorrow at the station here. I can’t possibly get away to the village.’ More silence. ‘Mum? Can you hear me?’
‘Io, Joe. I’m disappointed, and so will everybody else be.’ She heaved a sigh, her voice shaky as she continued. ‘I know it’s no use arguing, you have your orders. But to think that the death of Vijay Chakra, that devil, has divided my family!’
Shock stalled him for a few beats. ‘It’s not like you to call someone a devil. Why do you say that, Mum?’
‘Because he’s an incorrigible skirt chaser and philanderer. Not the only one among the medical fraternity here, but sufficient reason for any wife and mother to dislike him.’
‘Sounds like there’s something more, Mum.’
‘You’re right. He used to do a lot of D and Cs. Maybe still does.’
‘You mean abortions?’ ‘Io, but it’s difficult to prove—no, impossible to prove that the purpose of the surgery was abortion. You know, there’s a view in the Association that it’s better that some doctors are prepared to break or twist the law, because girls who’ve made a mistake can have it corrected safely and get on with their lives. I understand that view, but I don’t agree with it, especially as Dr Chakra demanded a hefty fee to break the law. My goodness, all the costs of these operations were borne by the hospital, and he did them in normal hours for which he was paid a good salary! He wasn’t saving girls’ lives, he was simply making money!’
Chakra might well have been doing both, but Horseman knew better than to challenge his mother’s uncompromising moral principles. ‘There’s something more to it, isn’t there, Mum? Something more personal. I can hear it in your voice.’
‘The great detective! Mind now, I’m only telling you because it might help you out. A friend of mine in Savusavu gave all her meagre savings to that greedy man so that her silly daughter, a university student who should have known better, could have a safe abortion. The upshot was, it was really too late for a D and C, the girl haemorrhaged and died. No charges, no complaints, of course. Above all, the daughter’s virginal reputation must be preserved in death. And no refund, naturally! What can change when people persist in such attitudes! Can’t you understand why I get so angry?’
‘Of course, but not many people are fearless like you, Mum.’
‘That’s what your father used to say to me. I think he’d have preferred I didn’t stick my neck out so often.’
Horseman was pretty sure that was indeed the case, but he said, ‘He loved you for it, Mum. Proud of you, too.’
Mrs Horseman sighed.
Savusavu again. ‘Can you remember when this happened, Mum?’
‘It was nine years ago. I can’t tell you the date, but it must have been January, because the youngest child was about to start high school. My friend was forced to borrow money for the boy’s school fees, which had gone to pay that devil. I don’t know how she explained the loss of their savings, but she never told her husband her secret. Their grief ate away at the family. Her husband died a few years later.’
He smiled into the phone. ‘I suppose it was you who lent the money for the school fees?’
‘None of your business! I was glad to help. I was the only one she felt she could tell, because I was a nurse—she knew I wouldn’t be shocked and that I could keep a secret. But I was saddened, Joe, very saddened. My friend’s not well now. It’s cancer. I think I’ll go to Savusavu and visit her. We always caught up at the choir competition in Suva every year but she wasn’t well enough for that last June.’
‘You should do that, Mum. See your friend, I mean. Tell me when you plan to go and I’ll buy your air ticket. No need to be uncomfortable on the overnight ferry.’
‘Vinaka vakalevu, Josefa. I’ll accept that with pleasure.’
‘And I’m sorry I can’t come tomorrow, Mum. Truly I am.’
‘I know you are, Joe. Moce.’ She sighed and cut the connection.
He sat for a bit, feeling bad, thinking about Savusavu. His mother’s anecdote of Chakra’s time in Savusavu tallied with the information from Singh’s nurse friend Maraia. But this news of a girl dying because of his negligence was worse, much worse. He jotted some figures down, dates and ages, question marks. He needed to check. While ideas whirled in his head, connecting then breaking away, he drummed on the desk with his pen.
Taleca turned round. ‘Boss, either we all join in and have a jam session or I take you down to the park with my packed lunch. He jiggled a shopping bag. Plenty here. Don’t know if the wife put in any jam sandwiches, but there might be a drumstick or two.’
Horseman laughed. ‘To the park, then, Keli.’ He could think better in the open air, and some food wouldn’t go amiss. As Singh had reminded him a week ago, food for thought.
SUNDAY
40
SUVA
At three o’clock the detectives gathered around Horseman’s desk in the crowded CID room. When he reported the pathologist’s diagnosis they stared at him, speechless. Then the hubbub broke out—simultaneous cries of amazement. ‘What! How? Can’t be!’
Despite the grim situation, Horseman smiled. ‘I know, I know. I couldn’t believe it myself at first. But Dr Young is certain. Dr Chakra died from the effects of the venom of Laticauda colubrina, the banded sea krait. No doubt you all saw them coiled up asleep here and there at Paradise. They’re almost a totem for the lagoon.’
Young Musudroka looked alarmed. ‘The dadakulaci? I thought they were harmless.’
Horseman shrugged. Singh spoke up. ‘When I visited the FIMS camp last Monday Professor Burgermeister told me they’re extremely venomous, but they’re docile and hardly ever bite. How did he get bitten, sir?’
‘He didn’t.’ Horseman paused, couldn’t help dragging out their suspense just a little. ‘The venom was injected into his thigh with a syringe. It was murder. No doubt this time.’
Taleca spoke first. ‘How does the poison work?’
The pathologist tells me it acts on both the muscles and the nerves. The nerves are progressively paralysed until the diaphragm stops working so the victim can’t breathe.’
‘How long does it take, sir?’ Musudroka asked.
‘Seems no one can be sure about that. A natural bite might take days to kill an adult, but this was a big dose—might have been a few hours. The murderer could have injected Dr Chakra not long after he fell asleep. Paralysis would have been gradual, because Dr Young thinks he didn’t die until six or seven o’clock on Friday morning.’
Singh looked worried. ‘Would he have woken up, sir?’
‘We’ll never know, but there were no signs of struggle, so perhaps not. He was in a drunken stupor, remember, and a fine needle is hardly painful—nothing more than a mosquito bite. The injection wound was subtle—that’s why Dr Young missed it at first. But let’s not get distracted by the novel choice of murder weapon. This is wonderful news for us. We know this is murder, and the number of suspects with the means at their disposal is limited and obvious. Agreed?’
‘But surely not the scientists, sir?’ Musudroka could not accept that idea.
‘Why not? Who else? Professor Burgermeister told Sergeant Singh last Monday that one of their projects involves collecting the sea snake venom. So, who would have better access to the means?’
Singh picked up a fax. ‘Latest update from the SOCOs. Not so wonderful. Nothing around Dr Chakra’s bure. The sandy partial footprints on the steps are too fragmented and indistinct to be any use, and the fingerprints on the whisky bottle and elsewhere in the room belong to Dr Chakra. Housekeeping staff wipe everything down after a guest leaves as a hygiene measure, which makes things simpler for us. The killer left no prints. The vomit traces in the bathroom basin had a high alcohol content, so it’s safe to conclude it belongs to
Dr Chakra, as his prints are the only ones on the taps and porcelain basin. All this indicates a planned murder and a careful murderer.’
‘Vinaka, Sergeant. That’s also consistent with a scientist suspect. To begin, we’ll make a list on the board, consider opportunity and motive, and eliminate who we can.’ Taleca wheeled in a whiteboard and set to work with coloured markers.
‘Can you rustle up photos, Sergeant? Not all of us have met the scientists.’ Singh went to her impeccably neat desk and retrieved a red wallet-file. Before long the board was complete.
Horseman perched on a stool. ‘Here’s the way I see it. Top of the board and head of the FIMS team we have Professor Bill Burgermeister, who was staying at the resort on Thursday night, and who was the target of Dr Chakra’s angry outbursts that evening. As far as we know, he was the last to see Dr Chakra alive when he walked him back to his bure some time between 11.30 and midnight. The professor claims to be an acquaintance of Dr Chakra—no more than that. Opportunity confirmed.’ He drew a large green O to the right of the Professor’s photo. ‘Any comments?’
Everyone shook their heads and wrote in their note-books.
‘Let’s move on to Anil Gupta, twenty-three-years-old, research assistant. Both he and the professor claim Anil was at the camp on the other side of the island that night, and that’s where we met him on Friday afternoon. Still, he was on the island and so had opportunity. He could have walked to the resort in fifteen minutes or less if he was hurrying.’
‘What possible motive could he have?’ Musudroka asked. The new boy certainly wasn’t shy of speaking up, Horseman was pleased to see.
‘That I don’t know, Tanielo. Any ideas? Sergeant, you’ve had more dealings with the scientists than any of us. Any insights?’
‘No insights, sir, but a few times I’ve felt Anil knows more than he’s telling. He tends to steer the conversation round to his research whenever I ask about Nisi. I thought he’s probably just nervous, suspicious of the police. He’s not alone there. I also thought he might be in love with Nisi, the way his eyes welled up when he spoke of her. But that’s no evidence and no motive either.’
DEATH ON PARADISE ISLAND: Fiji Islands Mysteries 1 Page 23
