Deadly Deceit (30 page)

“
Please.
I
can’t
have anything happen to you too.” There was a pause. “And take Sally with you?”

He looked at her. “What about you?”

“I’m going to stay here.”

“This isn’t your problem either, Jess. You’ve been here for less than a week. You’re just helping a colleague. You must come with us.”

She shook her head. “I’m going to wait for the London team to get here. I have to help them.”

“Oh come on.” He was getting cross now. “You’ve got nothing to stay for.”

“I’ve got nothing to leave for either,” she flashed back.

He stared at her. “What about Simon?”

“What about Simon?”

He looked surprised. “Is he coming down? What does he think about you staying?”

“No, he’s not coming down.” She paused. “And I honestly don’t know what he thinks about me staying.”

“Surely…”

She put up her hand, wearily. “I have to go, or I’ll be late for the meeting.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Right.” He emptied his glass. “Let’s go.”

“I think I should go on my own.”

“Give me the keys,” he said. “I’ll go and get the office car and bring it round. I’m driving you there.”

*

Driving past the Office on their way to the Disaster Management Centre Jess saw the gardeners struggling in the wind to fit the wooden hurricane shutters over the windows. Alvita was directing them, pointing and wagging an authoritative finger. She turned at the sound of the car, and frowned as they went past.

Sally too was playing her part, ringing round resident Brits and other foreign nationals on the island, as well as hotels and guesthouses with tourists, to warn them about the hurricane and give them the chance to leave. After that, she said she would go to the supermarket before they got mobbed, to stock up with the provisions for the Residence.

As Tom drove her, Jess sat compiling a mental list of issues to raise at the meeting. The American airline operator would need to get extra planes in tomorrow to evacuate the tourists, who were mostly on Provo anyway; the local radio station would need to broadcast regular bulletins right across the islands; the generator at the Centre needed to be checked it worked; shipping in the area would need to be informed…

She glanced over at Tom, who drove in silence. She was relieved he’d accepted that he should leave tomorrow afternoon. A little wave of sadness rippled through her. She’d miss having him around. He was the only person on the island she knew she could trust. She’d never tell him that though, in case he felt pressured to stay.

On the main road into town, it was a normal Grand Turk rush hour. No-one was driving fast, or in a panic. These hurricanes were part of everyday life in this Territory. Most storms veered off course anyway, before they got near the islands. But the few direct hits they’d had loomed large in island folklore.

The salty water slopped up over the sides of the salina, and the rusty weather vanes creaked in the wind. There were no green herons or other birds to be seen now. They knew what was coming, and had already left.

Tom slowed as they approached the Dive Centre, and pulled up outside. He pushed the gear into park and looked at the building. “Just seeing if anyone’s about,” he said.

Jess peered at the small hut-type structure. The diving gear and clothes that normally lay out on the grass had gone, and the door was shut tight. “Looks all locked up to me.”

Tom shook his head and pointed to the jetty. “Those two dive boats will need to be moved, or they’ll get smashed up in the hurricane.”

“Will they bring them onshore and store them in a boat shed somewhere?”

“Someone told me there’s a natural harbour at the north-west creek,” he said. “Boats shelter up there during hurricanes. Brad might take them up there.”

Out to sea, the sun had already gone down and in its place was a mottled, purply black sky. “Here comes the storm,” she said, quietly.

They sat for a moment, then he pushed the gear into drive and continued along the road.

“You still haven’t told me about the diving accident,” she said.

“It wasn’t an accident.”

“
What?
”

He shrugged. “We all went down to the bottom. I got pretty occupied watching a sea turtle. And when I looked up, I was alone. Everyone else had gone.”

“Everyone else?”

“Yeah, Charles and Carrie came out with us too.” He sighed. “Then I couldn’t breathe. I read the gauge and saw the tank was empty. I tried to make some noise to attract attention, but no-one responded.” He shrugged again. “Had no alternative but to make an emergency ascent.”

She shuddered. She hated the thought of diving herself, although she understood its attraction for others. “You might still be down there now.”

He nodded. “Very easily. That’s the first time I’ve ever had to do an emergency ascent.”

She stared at him. “I thought you were an
experienced
diver.”

“I am. But it’s not every day someone tampers with your oxygen tank and tries to kill you.”

“
Kill
you? Are you sure? Could it have been an accident?”

“I checked that tank thoroughly before we left, and while we were in the boat. There’s no doubt in my mind, someone tampered with it.”

Jess was shocked. Only Brad, Carrie and Charles were on the boat, apart from Tom. Was he saying one of them did it?

He glanced over. “Anyone on the boat could have done it. We were chatting, moving around. The noise from the wind and engine was loud.”

“But it doesn’t make sense. Why would anyone want to kill you?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’ve been asking too many questions?”

She shuddered again. “I don’t know who told the Police Commissioner, but he knew what had happened. And do you know what he said?” She paused. “He warned me to restrain you or you’d find yourself in real peril.”

Tom’s steely eyes narrowed. “Did he now?”

Jess could feel her head throbbing, and rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry about what happened, Tom.” It sounded a trite thing to say.

“Why are you apologising? It’s not your fault.”

“No, but if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, and if I wasn’t here, I might have stepped off the side-walk and under a bus in Miami.” He glanced over at her.

The blunt detective she’d known back in Australia came shining through. She stayed silent as they passed the Haitian settlement. A few women stood in a group outside, each with a small child in their arms. The ever-present skinny dogs sniffed around, foraging for food. Jess’s eyes flicked over the flimsy shacks and corrugated iron roofs that would never withstand a hurricane. Where do these people go for shelter? Another issue on her list for the meeting.

Suddenly a face caught her attention. She peered through the window. “Is that Maggie?”

“Where?”

She pointed to one side of the settlement. “Over there. Amongst that group of women.”

Tom slowed the car and pulled up alongside the kerb. “I can’t see her,” he said.

“No.” Jess sounded confused. “I can’t either now. But I’m sure it was her. She had a child in her arms.”

He shrugged. “Want to go and have a look?”

Jess checked her watch. “It’s nearly six, I need to get to the meeting.”

He nodded and drove on. Halfway up the hill, he slowed and pulled up again. “See that house up ahead on the left? That’s Clement’s.”

Jess could see a house standing alone. “Lovely spot.”

“Yes. It’s got a great panoramic view over the island and sea from the lounge and deck. But…”

“But what?”

He hesitated. “It’s a bit weird in there.”

She glanced over. “It’s bound to feel eerie, with a suicide and murder in the basement. The Police Commissioner told me about the voodoo doll pinned to the beam, by the way, with a knife through its throat.”

He nodded. “Did he mention the hall mirror was turned to face the wall?”

She shook her head.

“Chuck says mirrors represent doorways to the world of the dead in voodoo. Someone wanted to stop Mrs Pearson resting in peace. Apparently now she becomes a zombie or a ghost to wander around the house and the island for eternity.”

Jess stared at him, but he looked serious. Was all this getting to him too. “The Police Commissioner’s fixated on voodoo too. He’s brought her Haitian domestic staff in for questioning.”

He glanced at her. “Very convenient. Chuck says the brutal way she was killed has terrified everyone.” He paused. “You know, Jess, I can’t help feeling that’s what it was meant to do.”

“Mm.” She nodded. “Did Chuck say anything about the way she was strung up by her feet, and her throat cut? Is that something to do with voodoo? I mean I know they sacrifice animals, but…”

Tom gave a dismissive laugh. “Sacrificial ceremonies. What nonsense!”

“It’s not though” she said. “Don’t forget I’ve seen one. And the Chief Justice takes voodoo seriously too. Rebekah’s convinced the Haitians took her dog.” She paused. “I believe voodoo
is
practised here, Tom.”

“Jesus! No wonder the Police Commissioner’s brought Mrs Pearson’s domestic staff in for questioning, then.”

“You know what’s really bugging me,” she went on, “the
way
she was murdered. And why?” She paused. “Do you suppose she knew something about her husband, or about his death? Maybe she was going to speak out, and someone decided to shut her up for good?”

They fell silent.

“I think that key you found at Clement’s is the link between him and the Governor,” she continued. “I mean, why would they both have a copy of the same key?” She paused. “Where’d you find it anyway?”

“In the garage, wedged under the seat in his boat.”

“Bit odd, isn’t it? Why didn’t the police find it? They must have searched the whole house.”

He nodded. “Except the open back of the boat was covered with a tarpaulin. I guess the police didn’t check it thoroughly. I have to say Chuck was spooked in there. He couldn’t get out fast enough. No doubt the rest of them were too.”

She nodded. “They did that to Mussolini, you know. Strung him up like a pig. He was executed, then hung upside down in a service station for everyone to see. It was done to confirm his demise to the people.”

Tom glanced over. “Is that what’s going on here, do you think? Someone wants to confirm the death of Clement and his wife to the locals?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. But whatever the reason, the manner of her death was so horrific, everyone’s terrified of being next.” She pointed through the window. “Turn right here, Tom.”

He turned the car into the narrow track and bumped along to the building. There were several cars parked haphazardly outside. “Is
that
the Disaster Management Centre?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, good luck with that,” he said, flatly. “I’ll pop up to the lighthouse while you’re in there.” He glanced over. “I’m just going to take a look. Nothing more.”

She sighed. “I might be a while, Tom. Nothing happens very quickly in these meetings.”

“That’s fine. Just call me, I’ll be back in five minutes.”

She was about to get out of the car when she remembered. “What happened at the Government Garage when you and Chuck got there? Only London have arranged for an accident forensic expert to come over from the Cayman Islands to examine the Governor’s car,” she said. “He’s due to arrive tomorrow.”

“You might as well stand him down, Jess. There’s nothing to see.”

“Is the car still missing?”

“Oh no, the Land Rover’s there, and it’s the Governor’s all right. But that’s the only thing that
is
certain.” He pulled a face. “The vehicle’s now a burnt out shell. Looks like someone took it, set it alight to remove any trace of the accident and forensic evidence, and then kindly returned it.”

The white-washed lighthouse looked like a ghostly statue against the darkening clouds. Tom opened a gate in the white picket fence that bordered the plot, and went over to it. A fierce wind blew sea-spray in his face. Must be about 50 to 60 feet tall, he thought, as he looked up at the structure. He reckoned the view from the glass observation tower at the top would be stunning, and walked up the few steps to try the door handle. It was locked. He wondered who kept the keys?

Close by stood another small building, which he guessed was the old kerosene store. The lighthouse was electrified now, but still working to guard the northern end of the island.

He sat down on the steps and looked out to sea. It was a fantastic sight as huge waves broke up on the north-west reef. Rays of light beamed down from behind purple clouds like spotlights on the dark, swirling sea. It looked magical, but he was uneasy.

How could he go and leave Jess on her own? He understood why she didn’t want to leave, although he would never tell her that. She felt responsible. He’d witnessed her sense of duty in Australia. And he knew well enough that he would never be able to persuade her to do something she didn’t think was right.

A loud roar interrupted his thoughts. He stood up and looked back towards the road. It had sounded like a motorbike, but there was nothing coming. Something glinted further along the headland. He squinted, but he couldn’t see what it was.

He turned back to the sea, and walked over to the edge of the bluff. Now the wind seemed to be pushing him back. Was it a warning? He smiled at the very idea.

About 50 yards further along, he could see a path along the top of the cliff, and even further along, a dirt track zig zagging down to a small beach. Directly below him, water swirled treacherously around jagged rocks. The rock formation was unusual, and he wondered if there were any caves down there. It was impossible to see from the top, where he stood. He would only be able to check that out from the beach.

He looked up at the sky. Dusk was fast approaching, but he reckoned he still had about 15 minutes or so of daylight. He stood up, pulled a torch from his trouser pocket, and started walking along the cliff path. Reaching the dirt track, he started down. At first the going was good. The trodden down earth was easier to negotiate than he’d thought. As the path got narrower and steeper, the wind strengthened, making it more difficult to keep his footing. He could feel the reverberation of the waves pounding the reef underfoot. He tried to concentrate on the path, but he could hardly take his eyes off the sea. The roar of the wind and the waves was strangely menacing.