Deadly Deceit (18 page)

Jess changed the subject. “Do we have a condolence book for the Governor?”

Sally nodded. “We always keep a spare one in case the Queen or Prime Minister pop their clogs.”

“Well, let’s put it on a small table in reception for the general public to come in and sign, alongside a framed photo of the Governor.” Jess paused. “Can you take charge of all that, Alvita?”

Alvita looked interested now.

“Can you also place an advert in the local papers inviting people, and I mean everyone, not just dignitaries, to come and sign the condolence book?”

Alvita was warming to the task. “I’ll ask the radio and TV broadcasters to advertise it too. And I’ll put some flowers on the table.”

“Good idea,” Jess said. “The Police Commissioner thinks the other islands will want to open their own condolence books too.” She paused. “As you know them best, Alvita, can I ask you to organise that directly with them?”

She nodded. “I’ll find some more condolence books, and of course some fountain pens for signing. We must do this properly.”

“Absolutely.” Jess was pleased to see Alvita being co-operative. “And if you think of anything else we should be doing, please let me know.”

Alvita went to get up.

“Before you go,” Jess said, quickly. “I want you both to know I’ve asked for a British police team to come over and help.”

Alvita looked up, sharply.

Jess wasn’t going to tell them yet of her suspicions about the Governor’s accident. “The Police Commissioner feels he has enough resources here to do the job, but I think they may need extra help investigating Mrs Pearson’s murder.” She looked at Alvita. “How are the locals bearing up?”

Alvita spoke slowly. “They’re shocked and frightened, but they have faith in
our
police to catch the killer.” She paused. “Don’t you, Jess?”

Jess hesitated. “I just think resources will be overstretched, and that it would help to have forensics and other experts to help out. You know, once the British media get wind of it, they’ll be over here like a shot. They’ll dig around this island until they find out the truth.” She paused. “It was my decision to point this out to London, and request police assistance.”

“Do you have the authority to do that?” Alvita asked.

“Yes.” Jess paused. “Now I don’t want either of you talking to anyone outside the office about this. No speculation, and no gossip please.”

Alvita gave Jess a look she couldn’t quite read. “These islands may be under British rule, Jess, but they don’t operate like the UK.” She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “There’s a certain…
order
to them. If you rock the boat too hard, you may capsize it. Then everyone will drown.”

The words were spoken in a level voice, without a hint of malice, but Jess got the distinct impression it was a warning. Or was it a threat?

There was a pause.

Alvita took the opportunity to get up. “Sorry, but I have to get home.”

Jess just let her go.

Sally jumped up. “We’ve got to go too, Jess. It’s nearly 6.30. Everyone will be at the Residence in half an hour for dinner.”

Oh God, yes, Jess thought. Another dinner. She looked at Sally’s weary face and dark eyes. “I’d understand if you wanted to drop out this evening. You look tired.”

“Oh no.” Sally shook her head. “I don’t want to be at home on my own, I’ll only brood about everything.”

Was Sally afraid to be in the house alone after Mrs Pearson’s murder, Jess wondered? “You can come and stay at the Residence for a few nights if you’d like to. Until things settle down a bit.”

Sally’s face brightened. “But you’ve got your policeman there.”

“He’s not
my
policeman. Anyway, there’s plenty of room for you too, if you’d prefer not to be on your own.”

Sally’s face was saying she’d like nothing more than to stay at the Residence, but still she hesitated.

Was Sally worried about intruding? “I won’t take no for answer,” Jess said, firmly. “I’d like you to stay with me until all this is over.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Sally said. “I’ve got a change of clothes in my office. I keep them here to save me going home if I’m invited out unexpectedly in the evening.”

“Right, well you go and get them while I lock these papers away. We can walk over together.”

While Sally went to get her clothes, Jess sat down at the Governor’s desk again, trying to make sense of everything. If only he were here to explain himself. If that woman in Provo could be believed, he’d been about to confess to something. What? He’d had a brilliant career, a top job, and a lovely family. Why would he do anything to jeopardise that? Of course if this was about drug running through the islands, as Tom thought it might be, huge sums of money would be involved.

That’s when it occurred to her that if drugs were finding their way from the Turks and Caicos into the US, the authorities over there would have got wind of it. In which case, the US National Security Agency were probably monitoring all their phone and internet communications. If the NSA knew about it, the CIA would too. Could any of the Americans down here, or locals even, be working for the CIA, she wondered?

If only she could have a chat with Simon, he’d start digging straightaway. She looked at her watch. Los Angeles was three hours behind the Turks and Caicos, it was just after lunch there. She picked up the phone and dialled his mobile. When it immediately switched to voicemail, she hung up without bothering to leave another message. She’d left enough already. She would just ring his office in Washington, and make sure everything was okay.

For some reason, she had butterflies in her stomach when she picked up the phone again and dialled his office. Being on the same time zone, she hoped Simon’s secretary would still be there at 6.30. They both usually worked until seven. But the phone just rang and rang. She was about to hang up when a female voice came on the line: “British Embassy switchboard.”

“Oh hi, I was trying to ring Simon Hill’s office,” Jess said.

There was a pause. “Sorry Ma’am, he’s on leave right now.”

On leave? For a moment Jess didn’t know what to say. “He’s… he’s working in Los Angeles, isn’t he?”

“It says on my chart that he’s on leave until 3 September, Ma’am.”

Two weeks’ leave?
That couldn’t be true, surely? “Do you know if he’s on local leave in Washington?” she asked. “Or has he gone away?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Ma’am.”

Jess’s mind was racing in all directions. “Well, can I speak to his secretary, if she’s still there?”

“Just a moment, Ma’am.”

As she waited, Jess’s heart was pounding.

The switchboard operator came back on. “Sorry Ma’am, she’s on leave too.”

Jess tried to steady her voice. “Do you have a contact number for him? I need to talk to him urgently. I’m his…” Jess stopped. How could she say she was his partner? What a fool she’d look when she didn’t even know he was on leave.

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I can’t help you,” the telephonist said. “But if you phone back in the morning and speak to the Management Officer, he may be able to give you more information.”

Tom Sangster took another sip of cold, white wine. It felt weird to be in the Governor’s dining room with a bunch of people he’d never met before, on an island he’d never heard of before going to Miami. Surrounded by antique furniture, gilt-framed paintings, and a table covered with sparkling china that could have come straight out of Buckingham Palace, it was like being on a film set.

Except this was no fantasy island, this was real.

Jess smiled from the other end of the table, as if reading his thoughts. She’d probably had the same reaction when she arrived. Now, she seemed to fit right in.

He pressed the cold glass to his cheek to get some relief from the stifling heat. Had no-one thought of installing air conditioning? He put the glass down, and rubbed the back of his neck with the same hand to cool down. He didn’t think anyone had noticed until Jess smiled at him again.

“Stuffy in here, isn’t it?” she said. “Believe me. It’s better than being eaten by mozzies out in the courtyard.”

“Too right.” Sally scratched her arms.

“Mozzies don’t like my blood,” Tom replied.

“Lucky you!” Sally groaned. “Anyway you’re probably immune, from spending your life having barbies at the beach.”

Jess laughed. “Australians don’t spend their
entire
lives at the beach, Sally.”

“We would if we could,” Tom joked.

“Well
I
do,” Brad piped up.

Everyone laughed.

“Do you dive, Tom?” Brad went on. “I’d be happy to take you out.”

Tom smiled. “I love to dive, but I don’t have any gear with me.”

“No worries, mate,” Brad joked. “I’ll fit you out. How long are you here for?”

“Only a few days,” Tom replied.

Brad nodded. “Leave it with me.”

They fell silent as Maggie came in with a large oval platter of a local chicken and rice dish.

“Put it in the middle of the table, Maggie,” Jess said. “We’ll help ourselves.”

Tom watched Jess in these unfamiliar surroundings. He felt he knew her well, but in truth he knew little about her life. He didn’t even know where she’d been born, or if she had any family, or what books she read, or what music she liked. He tried not to stare because she knew he studied faces, and she didn’t like him sketching her. No wonder, he thought, after that one he did of her in Australia, with blank eyes. She’d been like some ice queen back then. Of course he hadn’t known about her husband and child.

At Miami Airport the other day, he was surprised at how happy she looked. Now, her face was tired and drawn. Not only that, there was sadness in her eyes again.

Brad interrupted his thoughts. “So what do you do for a living, Tom?”

“I work for the police.” Judging by the lack of reaction around the table, he guessed everyone already knew. “The Federal Police, in Canberra.”

“Is that where you and Jess met?” Brad asked.

“No.” He wondered how much Jess would want her guests to know about her. “We met on a murder case involving a British citizen in Brisbane.”

“So, you are colleagues?”

Was Brad trying to suss out his relationship with Jess, Tom wondered?

Jess intervened. “We
were
colleagues. I was the British Consul in Australia at the time. Now, Tom and I are friends.”

Tom smiled at that.

“What does a Consul do?” Rebekah asked.

“A Consul is responsible for the protection of British citizens,” Jess replied. “If a Brit gets into trouble in a country, the Consul’s job is to try and help them. They’ll liaise with the local police on any investigation, and with the next of kin or relatives of whoever is in trouble.”

“Why don’t we have a Consul here?” Rebekah sounded petulant. “God knows we need one.”

“Because we
are
the Government,” Jess replied.

“Huh! Dom says no-one in London gives a
toss
about these islands.”

Jess couldn’t disagree with her.

When the conversation fell silent again, Tom had a mouthful of fried chicken. It was a simple dish, with rice and vegetables, but it hit the spot.

On the wall behind Jess hung a painting of a former Governor, with wrinkles and grey hair. People wouldn’t be used to having a woman in charge here, he thought, especially a younger woman. Just how old was Jess? She hadn’t changed in the two years since he’d seen her. Back then he’d thought she was in her mid to late thirties. She was still slim, and her hair blonder than he remembered. He noticed her attractive brown eyes were alertly watching everyone, including him.

She might not be the Governor, but she was definitely in charge. He could tell that by the way Sally stopped having a pop at Rebekah immediately Jess gave her a pointed look. Rebekah too had insisted on having a private word with Jess when she arrived, and seemed calmer after their chat. What was that all about, he wondered?

It didn’t escape his attention that Jess moved the wine bottle out of Sally and Rebekah’s reach at every opportunity. It was clear those two ladies liked the grog.

Even the American twins, Brad and Charles, deferred to Jess when she spoke. They were an interesting pair, and Tom itched to pick up his pad and pencil to capture them on paper. Apart from their hair, their features were identical, yet their personalities so different.

Brad looked at ease in his surroundings. Charming and funny, he kept the conversation flowing, without mentioning any of the recent troubles. Tom could see Jess was grateful for that. Brad acted like a man who breezed through life. Running his own dive company, he obviously spent his days doing what he loved. Most of the beach guys back home with ponytails and sun-tans were bludgers on the social. Brad was not in that category.

Tom became aware of a trickle of sweat running down his back, and hoped it wouldn’t seep through his shirt. Brad on the other hand, dressed in that colourful Hawaiian shirt over his trousers, didn’t even look hot.

Brad’s twin Charles was different altogether. He had the same bright blue eyes and laconic smile, but his hair was short and dark. He was a New York banker, according to Jess. She thought Charles financed the brothers’ dive business. He certainly looked like a highly paid executive, with his flabby paunch and expensive clothes. He had a dead pan expression. Poker-face, that’s what Jess had called him. He was sharp too. A little too sharp for Tom’s liking. Many of his quips were more cutting than clever. Had the two brothers been educated at the same school or university, he wondered? Of course, it wasn’t unusual for one son in a family to be brighter than the other. Did that apply to twins too?

The most interesting thing about Charles was his preoccupation with Rebekah. He barely said anything to anyone else. Whenever he wasn’t eating, his arm lay possessively along the back of her chair. He fussed over her and leant closer whenever he could. Rebekah on the other hand, alternated between leaning into him and moving away, as if she couldn’t decide which way to turn. Tom wasn’t surprised to see her there without her Chief Justice husband, because Jess said they were all friends. But Rebekah’s obvious relationship with Charles intrigued him.