My Island Homicide (15 page)

Chapter 25

L
ove is a grand thing especially when it involves a handsome man collecting me from my workplace. As soon as I saw him through the glass, I forgot about everything. The most bizarre part was that my heart was expanding with a delicious energy and everything – the room, my work, Jenny, Jonah, the police force, the world, the universe – was pure love.

‘I couldn't stop thinking about you all day,' he said in my ear, when he pulled me to him as we were walking.

‘And I couldn't stop thinking about what you might do with me tonight.' He whispered his intentions. ‘No?' I said in mock delight. ‘All night?'

‘After dinner. We're going to Mum's for
simur
.'

‘Really?'

‘Really.'

‘That's not necessary,' I said.

An expression of confusion and deep hurt crossed his face and he put his hand on my arm. ‘Don't you want to meet Mum? She's made chicken
simur
, you know,
simur
?'

Mum made
simur
when relatives came to stay, a traditional Malay dish adopted by Islanders during the pearling era when Malays migrated to dive for pearl.

‘I know
simur
,' I said.

‘But why not meet Mum and have
simur
? I thought you'd like to meet her. She's been wondering where I've been lately.'

‘Jonah, don't you think we should wait and see how things go? I mean, we've just got together. And I'm sure your mother doesn't want to meet another one of your women.'

‘She has never met any of the women I've been with. She'd love to meet you and she's made
simur
and fried scone. I'd like you to meet her. But only if you want to.'

She has never met any of the women I've been with.
We had reached the driveway. I was thrown off guard. He saw it because he raised his eyebrows and stared me down. ‘I'm sorry. Of course I'll go.'

Jonah smiled and lavished me with kisses, cooling my face that burnt with shame. ‘You know, you should just chill out and go with the current.'

‘Go with the flow?'

‘Yeah, I know that one, but current sort of fits up here. Don't you think?'

‘I do need to go with the current. Just remind me, hey?'

It was dark when Jonah took my hand and we walked with the dogs the short distance to his mother's house, following the rich fatty aroma of chicken simmering in sweet soy sauce. I had imagined Yenah to be tall and solid, but she was short, very short, and slim. She was stirring the contents of a cauldron on the stove, but as soon as she saw us, she rushed over, wiping her brow with a pastel
sweater
. She slung it over her left shoulder as she stood on her toes to kiss my cheek. Her skin was lighter than Jonah's and her almond-shaped eyes and fine features told of an Asian heritage. As I hugged her, I felt her wiry frame beneath her baggy island dress. She paused and regarded me with a serious expression. ‘You proper look like your daddy. Only
mina kind
pretty.'

My cheeks simmered as I followed her to the dining table. ‘How well did you know my mother and father?'

After scattering cutlery onto the table, she was already on her way back to the kitchen. ‘Come.'

I glanced at Jonah, who was sculling water from a bottle, and I wondered why she didn't answer me. Perhaps she was a bit deaf.

‘My boy, set the table. Ebithea, you here for work,
uh
?'

‘Yes, it was a great chance to get to TI.'

Yenah lifted the cauldron onto the table. ‘Come.
Kai kai
. Eat
.
'

As she served the food, she proudly recounted the details of Jonah's birth, the first son after three daughters. Jonah's father, Kaigus, wanted a son to pass on the family tradition of naming the first boy after a fish. I became confused when Yenah said Jonah's father named him Kibbim. Jonah had caught a fish called
kibbim
the other night. ‘So, your real name is Kibbim?' I asked.

‘
Em nor
speak you
?
' asked Yenah.

‘Kibbim is my first name, after the blackfish with the poisonous spine. It's sharp and hurts like hell if you get pricked. Jonah is my second, English name. My father was Kaigus and
athe
,
grandfather, was
Geigi.'

‘
Kaigus
is a shovel-nosed shark and
geigi
is trevally,' said Yenah. ‘Jonah been born early.
Mina
kind
small. Five pound. We been think,
em
go die. But, no, no.
Matha baidham
, now.'

‘
Baidham
is shark.'

The meal was sensational. Aunty Emma taught me to make
simur.
She said it was one of the first dishes an island girl learns to make after tinned meat stew. While
simur
is always served with steaming white rice, each woman adds her own special touch. Some use more soy sauce, some use the sweet ABC sauce instead, some simmer the noodles longer to absorb the liquid. Sometimes spices, like cinnamon, are added. Aunty Emma loved using Chinese five spice. Other aunties have made it with shiitake mushrooms and bamboo shoots. Yenah's
simur
was perfect for the moment and silence descended on the table while we sucked the soft chicken flesh from the bones.

Yenah went to serve me a second bowl. ‘
Kai kai. Yu nathakind
skinny.'

‘I'm full,' I said, patting my belly.

‘
Beliclapan
,' said Jonah. ‘Meaning belly full. I'm gonna learn her Broken English.'

‘Huh? Masalgi never been learn you? How come?'

‘She was busy, I guess, and working. Maybe she was trying to learn English.'

‘Really?' Yenah said in a posh English accent.

‘Ebithea's doing well.' Jonah winked at me.

‘Which way them big brothers
blong
you?'

‘Thomas, he's married to a doctor in Brisbane, and William, he's a principal at a small country school near Mackay.'

‘Them two
lego
Broken English?' asked Yenah.

‘No. Well, just the bit we've learnt from family who've visited.'

She humphed then said, ‘Come, I go show you photos of my boy.' Jonah moaned. ‘Wash up
, gar
.'

Yenah pulled two albums off a shelf and patted the space next to her on the couch. I wondered what Jonah had told Yenah about me.

The earlier photos were soft-focus black and white squares with white edges. Kibbim being baptised. Kibbim with his first crayfish held out on a bamboo spear towards the camera. Kibbim practising karate, much taller than the other children. Kibbim and three older sisters in white dresses with frills and their hair tied in ribbons. Adolescent Kibbim, his father's arm around his shoulders.

‘First day of his apprenticeship, here, standing next to his father.' She pointed. ‘When
em
been 16,
em
been speak me and Daddy
blong em
, “No more Kibbim. I'm Jonah, now.
”
'

The next photos were in colour but faded with age. From adolescence, Kibbim became Jonah, small fish to big. Subsequent pages featured Jonah and a woman, thin and dark. On their wedding day, she garbed in lacy white, Jonah in a white dress shirt and
lava lava
, the traditional sarong. The happy couple in a dinghy. Jonah with his arms around her bulging belly. He faced the camera, beaming, proud of his beautiful wife and the baby they would soon be holding. I became aware of the dishes clinking in the kitchen.

‘That's Kuriz.
Em
been speak you?'

‘No.' I stared at Jonah's back curved over the sink, willing him to turn around.

‘
Em
been drown.' She placed a long brown finger on the photo of Jonah and the pregnant Kuriz.

She closed the album and we sat in an awkward silence until Jonah turned around to pick up the soy sauce from the table. He looked at the album and then at me and his eyes grew wide. ‘We go go, Mum. Gotta get up early for work.' He put the soy sauce back down and came over and kissed his mother's cheek. ‘Goodnight.'

Jonah apologised as we walked home. ‘I haven't taken anyone to meet Mum and I just didn't expect her to say anything.'

‘That's okay. I don't need to know.'

‘People live and die. My father died 11 years ago. Lung cancer. Smoked rollies for years. Bad things happen.'

‘That's awful.'

‘I really miss him. I was working on the Sunshine Coast when we found out about the cancer so I came home and spent the last year with him. That's how come I been built the cottage on Friday Island.' We climbed the stairs to my unit, our footsteps slow and heavy. ‘I needed something to do between working and helping Mum look after Dad. I started collecting materials that builders were dumping. Sort of had an idea for a shack, you know, to get away to. The day after Dad's funeral I started building it.' He looked around, as if he was lost. ‘I'm really tired. Might hit the sack.'

I sat at the dining table for an eternity, just thinking everything over. I guessed he was still grieving about Kuriz, and as much as I wanted to ask about her and how he coped, I wasn't going to question him. My mother would be proud. I needed to go with the current. I crawled into bed. Jonah reached for me and held me curled against him.

Chapter 26

Karen Jane Wakeham rang me on Thursday morning. She had good news and bad news and I had the choice as to order.

‘Give me the good.'

‘Nil on DNA matches to the crim register.'

‘Can I refuse the bad news?'

‘No. Miss Melissa was no innocent. Traces of cocaine.'

‘My God.'

‘God won't help you.'

‘I don't believe this. Melissa was a young mother and studying and desperately trying to fall pregnant. Yeah, she may have hit a rocky patch in her marriage and was depressed. Okay, she had a distant history of drug abuse too. But you reckon she's been snorting?'

‘Affirmative. It's a dopamine reuptake inhibitor. It would've given her feelings of euphoria, pretty tempting for someone struggling with depression. Or if she was addicted, it could've caused her depression. Or a combination of both.'

‘Cocaine, from what I can understand, is not big on the substance abuse menu here. Marijuana is more popular.'

‘The thing about cocaine is that it's a popular drug among professionals, more so singles with a high disposable income. Fit any profiles your way?'

‘Actually, we have public servants, twenties to forties, on salary packages, which means they have a higher disposable income. There's not much for them to do except drink and fish.'

‘I tried coke. Didn't go for it.' Her voice sounded far away. ‘Made my nose itchy. Ecstasy was all right but the thing about synthetic drugs is you don't know the long-term effects, so I always came back to marijuana and alcohol. They've been used for thousands of years. Safe when used responsibly.'

‘Karen Jane Wakeham. I remind you I am a police officer.'

‘I was speaking hypothetically. Now, for the piece de resistance,' she said in a terrible French accent, ‘Miss Melissa was pregnant. Twelve weeks.'

‘Are you sure?' I remembered Melissa's swollen belly in the well. I'd assumed it was just the build-up of gases.

‘Pregnancy is probably the most easily diagnosable condition in a corpse, noted by the presence of a foetus, in this case, a female foetus.'

Alby would have loved a little sister, a sort of pigeon pair, a perfect family. I told Karen Jane Wakeham that Melissa had been having an affair and that her husband said she was dying to fall pregnant.

‘Well, he got the dying bit right.'

‘Thanks, Karen Jane Wakeham. It's always a pleasure talking to you,' I said. ‘And off the record, go easy when you next alter your mood.'

She was chuckling as I put down the phone. I wondered whether Melissa knew she was pregnant. Possibly not if she was snorting. Then again, she was a recovered user so perhaps the pressures of her life had seemed insurmountable. She would have missed a couple of periods, but she had fertility issues and may not have had periods. I'd never had a regular period in my life and knew I'd probably never have a baby. Well, not without hormone injections, petri dishes and thousands of dollars for the service without a money-back guarantee. Now I was forty, I'd accepted that motherhood wasn't on my life agenda. I'd forced myself to realise that while I could control most of what happened in my life, I had no control over a dodgy reproductive system.

I needed to get DNA samples from Robby, Dave and Franz to determine if there were any matches. And organise a search of Robby's house for evidence relating to the cocaine. I rang Jack and asked him to prepare the search warrant ASAP.

‘Sure, but really quickly, what is your personal email address? Got something that might interest you.'

‘Jack, I donate to different charities. I hope you're not thinking about signing me up to Flying Doctors or Rotary.'

‘Thea, of course not.'

‘Raffle tickets?'

‘No way.'

‘Malnourished little ones?'

‘No,' he said with a sigh.

‘Very well.' I gave him my personal email.

I phoned Dave and told him about Melissa's pregnancy and that he would need to provide a swab sample for a parentage test at the medical centre.

Dave whispered, ‘That is so devastating. But I don't want people finding out and gossiping. What if I refuse to take the test?'

‘The police would make an application to the court for an order and in the first instance the courthouse staff and the JP would find out and—'

‘All right. I get the picture.'

I rang Robby to arrange a visit.

‘Come now. It's not like I have anywhere to go.'

The dog, Bear, growled from the backyard as Robby opened the front door. His skin was pasty grey and his eyes had retreated into their sockets. ‘Alby went to school this morning without crying. My mother flew home to Cairns yesterday.'

The lounge room was furnished with chunky Bali-style furniture. There were three tall carvings of emaciated dancers wearing hessian loincloths. What bowled me over were the bookshelves crammed with novels. As he led me to the verandah, I took in as many titles as I could and noted Peter Carey, Jane Austen, DH Lawrence, John Banville and authors I'd never heard of with Indian- and African-sounding names.

Robby's view over the islands was superior to mine. He had a 180-degree view of the islands from Horn Island in the east to Prince of Wales and Friday Island in the west. Jonah's island education was sinking in. As Robby sat down, he saw me scanning the vista and pointed out the mainland glimmering in the distance. Then he slumped over the table with his chin in his hands. I had to break the news as gently as I could about Melissa's pregnancy. I decided to start with something positive.

‘The teacher aides have provided statements in support of your allegations, along with Veronica Heard.' I told him about Veronica's observations of Dave's behaviour. ‘We've got some results back from DNA testing, which didn't take as long as we anticipated. Unfortunately, the samples don't match any of the DNA samples on the police registry. And I do have a bit of bad news.'

‘Thank God it's only a bit of bad news.' He smiled weakly. ‘Just imagine if it was a lot of bad news.'

‘Melissa was pregnant. Twelve weeks. Did you know?'

‘No.' He covered his face with his hands. ‘Now I've lost them both.'

‘The affair means we don't know whether it is your baby or Dave's.'

‘The one charm of marriage is that it makes a life of deception absolutely necessary for both parties.'

‘I'm sorry?'

He looked up. ‘Oscar Wilde's take on marriage. It seems relevant. I haven't slept for two weeks and that's what I thought of.'

I patted his hand. ‘You're holding up pretty well. You'll need to provide a DNA sample.' He opened his mouth to say something. ‘We expect some of your DNA to be on her, like fibres of your hair.'

‘Of course.'

I was trying to work out how to broach the subject of cocaine when Robby said, ‘I finally went through her stuff on the weekend, hoping she had a diary. She didn't, but I found something else instead. Wait here.' He walked down the hall.

While I examined my fingernails, I thought I'd start by asking ask him about Melissa's drug issues when they met and lead into a discussion about some behaviours she may have exhibited if she was snorting. Most of my nails were chipped but my thumbnails were half a centimetre long. Really, I should just come out and tell him. Robby returned and dropped an unlabelled press-seal bag containing a small quantity of fine white powder onto the table. If there was an appropriate moment for a non-believer to consider God's existence, this was it.

‘I was about to tell you that traces of cocaine were found in Melissa's body.'

‘I thought she was over all this. I had no idea she'd gone back to using.'

‘This means we have to conduct a thorough, formalised search of your house. The officers will be here soon.' I tapped the bag. ‘This must be close to a trafficable quantity.'

‘Which means?'

‘That she was working with someone else.'

He groaned. ‘Do the search. Like I said, I'll be here.' He looked up. ‘Melissa's body arrives on this afternoon's flight with her father. Her funeral is tomorrow. Please come.'

I stood up with the packet.

‘I don't know what to do about Alby. I was thinking about getting him a kitten to take his mind off things.'

‘Actually, my neighbour has kittens. I'll get her to call you.'

‘Please do.' His eyes lit up briefly and then he turned to stare out to sea.

On the drive back, I remembered Franz would have to provide a DNA sample. He'd need to get to a doctor, or a doctor to him. There was no way I was dealing with Izzy. I'd flick that one to Jenny. I found her busy behind the counter in reception. She was being harangued by a well-dressed white woman, fortyish, with fashionably dyed striped hair. I introduced myself.

‘I'm Liz Gardner, John Gardner's wife, the district manager at the hospital.'

‘Sorry. I don't know Mr Gardner.'

Mrs Gardner wanted a restraining order against her neighbour, who was harassing her, allegedly, from her back verandah. Jenny tried to explain it was not a police matter, but a civil issue that required a peace and good behaviour bond.

‘This is ridiculous,' Mrs Gardner snapped. ‘My children have to watch her carrying on and you're saying I've got no protection.' She rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air.

‘I'm sorry, Mrs Gardner. Until this woman breaks the law,' I said, ‘police have no jurisdiction. This is a civil matter and needs to be dealt with in the appropriate forum. There are dispute resolution serv—'

‘Oh. This has been a waste of time.' She turned and stalked off.

‘What was her neighbour doing to constitute harassment?' I asked Jenny.

‘Making faces.' Jenny poked out her tongue and made cross-eyes. ‘That was easy, that one.'

‘If only all matters were that easy.' There was something different about Jenny. ‘You've lost weight.'

‘Thank you,' she said, smoothing a hand over a slightly less-rounded stomach. ‘Two point eight kilos. Unfortunately, two point seven five of those have come off my breasts.'

‘You look great,' I said, laughing.

‘Sadly, it's true what they say about exercise and calorie restriction.'

‘What's that?'

‘That it's the only way to lose weight.'

I told her I needed help to arrange a doctor to visit Franz to take a spit sample.

‘I'll make you a deal,' said Jenny. I followed her to her desk. ‘I'll handle Franz if you look at Jack's files for me. He thinks there's something spooky going on.'

‘He's not still on about
maydh
?'

‘Not at all. He's wondering why there's been so many stealing charges lately. Jack thinks something's up because two young defendants are too keen to plead guilty. Cast your eye over them and see if you think something's going on.' She pulled out her phone. ‘I'll ring Dr Carla Dimaggio. I think you saw her with Shay. She does house calls. I'll sort Franz's sample with her and hopefully we'll have it in the bag today.' Jenny handed Jack's files to me. She was almost out the door. ‘Check your emails. Jack's making a great offer.'

‘Sure, sure.' I couldn't begin to wonder what Jack was up to now.

I went back to my office, logged onto my Hotmail account and found a group email from Jack:

Please pass on to your networks.

Hello, my name is Gapu and I need a loving home on TI. My master, Athe Lorio, just passed away. I am very sad and will be a loyal friend to the kind person who gives me a good home. I don't need walking because I am old and have three legs.

The photo showed an old and ugly, but lovable, brown bitsa dog with grey whiskers.

I forwarded the email to Jonah to distribute at his work. Then I read Jack's files. Two 17-year-olds had been charged with numerous counts of stealing property, including an expensive-looking camera with lots of buttons, a handheld GPS, two GPS sounders (those alone were worth two grand a pop), and a Delonghi espresso machine. Since when did young Islander boys with limited English steal or have in their possession items they had no hope in hell of knowing how to use or even wanting to use? They were hardly going to impress their friends by drinking short blacks and lattes. And on an island this small and welfare-dependent they would've had great difficulty selling or passing on the goods. eBay was out of the question – it's unlikely the boys would've had the computer literacy skills or even the computers to sell the stolen property online. It just didn't add up. Just after two, Shay came in and placed a bagged-up laptop on my desk. I thought it might be part of the mystery I was reading about in Jack's files.

‘Melissa's laptop. Jack and I just did the search. There might be something on this to identify her killer, something to nail Dave maybe.'

Jack followed, whooping with delight. ‘You've never see this before on TI, I bet?' He held up an exhibit bag containing smaller plastic bags of white powder.

Salome stuck her head in and looked around, as if checking out the possibility of action.

‘Talcum powder?' Jenny was at the photocopier outside my door. She scooped up some papers and followed Jack into my office.

‘Sure, Jenny, just listed on schedule three of the Drugs Misuse Act.'

‘What's the go?' asked Salome and Jenny filled her in. ‘Shit, man. Cocaine on TI! I don't believe it.'

‘So no history of cocaine on TI?' I asked.

‘Not officially,' said Jenny. ‘We suspect cocaine is used by some of the European public servants on TI, as well as ecstasy, but drug use of that nature doesn't lead to violence so it's unlikely to come to police attention.'

Jack's face lit up. ‘You know, I watched this great documentary on SBS. It was hard following the subtitles, but it was about professionals and academics who managed heroin and cocaine habits for years because they were sensible about their using and had respectability so they could keep doing it.'