Devil-Devil (27 page)

Read Devil-Devil Online

Authors: Graeme Kent

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: Devil-Devil
6.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

38

GRADUATION CEREMONY

The female students of Nazareth College outside Honiara were wearing grass skirts,
leis
of brilliant hibiscus flowers, and anklets formed from clusters of nuts. They were performing a Fijian cane-cutting dance taught to them by a sister from Suva.

Kella walked away from the crowd of onlookers and entered the empty bamboo church. Most of the Catholic expatriates in the capital had been invited to the graduation ceremony and the blessing of the college buildings. Kella could see at least one of the British chief inspectors of police, in his dress uniform of white jacket, trimmed with gold braid, black trousers with gold stripes, and white gloves.

Sitting in the cool calm of the church, Kella wondered who could have invited a lapsed Catholic like himself to the ceremony. Already this afternoon he had seen Father Pierre in the distance, and he knew that Sister Conchita had been teaching the students here occasionally during her enforced stay in the capital. He had not spoken to either of them since his return from Malaita several days before.

He had made his report to Chief Superintendent Grice in his office on the day of his return. Inspector Lorrimer, hawk-like and inscrutable, had also been present.

‘How's Professor Mallory?' asked Kella, before either of the white men could say anything.

‘He flew out an hour ago,' said Chief Superintendent Grice, looking pleased, but as usual bewildered by events. ‘He seemed a bit tired and disorientated. But that's only natural considering the ordeal he's been through.'

‘Quite so, sir,' said Kella. On their way down from the killing ground he had agreed with Mallory that no point would be gained by including details of the activities of the three Sikaiana women in any official report on the American, chastened as he was and soon to be reunited disenchantedly with his wife.

That would not prevent the saga spreading rapidly over the bush telegraph, but it would be a long time before any of the expats got to hear of it. By then, the tale would have grown so embellished in the repeating that it would have entered Malaitan folklore, and no one would ever be certain exactly what had happened in the cabin up by the waterfall. All of which suited Kella very well.

‘I think it's marvellous what that man did,' harrumphed Grice. ‘The way he came to your assistance and pushed Hita over the ledge, why, the professor deserves a medal.'

‘Somehow, Chief Superintendent, I think that Professor Mallory regards himself as already being well rewarded,' answered Kella.

Grice, accustomed to years of snide but inexplicable remarks from subordinates, grunted suspiciously. Kella managed to keep a straight face. He did not dare look at Inspector Lorrimer.

‘I've read your report,' said Grice, indicating the pages typed up by a fastidious secretary from the sergeant's waterlogged, sweat-stained and almost indecipherable notes.

‘Extraordinary story,' continued Grice, regarding Kella with new respect. ‘How long had this headmaster Bulko been smuggling custom carvings out of the Protectorate?'

‘For quite some time, I fancy,' said Kella. ‘He had help from Mendana Gau of course, and we suspect that John Cho has been fencing the items here in Honiara and arranging their departure overseas.'

That would explain why Cho had been so eager to recruit him on that night in his office, Kella thought. The Chinaman had been alarmed by his investigations on Malaita and had sought to deflect him from them. His declining of Cho's offer had also probably led to Cho sending so many islanders after the sergeant to try to kill him on the beach by the wharf.

‘And Bulko's desperate effort to steal the
havu
from the waterfall triggered everything off?' asked Grice. ‘The killing of Senda Iabuli by his people, Professor Mallory's kidnapping, Peter Oro and Gau being hacked down by Hita, Pazabosi leaving his area to put the bones curse on you, to try to stop your investigation.'

‘Just about,' confirmed Kella. Actually, many things had swum together in a pattern because different spirits had been out of harmony at the time, but there was no point telling Grice that.

‘Solomon Bulko got greedy,' he said. Kella thought of the contents of the headmaster's leaf house, the battery-powered lamp and record player, the collection of films, the basketware furniture, the expensive stove. All these possessions on a mission school headmaster's salary should have alerted him long ago, but he had always expected Bulko to live well. It was all a part of the man's expansive ambience. Kella had allowed his friendship with the witty and happy-go-lucky headteacher to blind him to the obvious, until it was almost too late.

‘When Bulko sent the boxes of carvings to Honiara,' Lorrimer told Grice, ‘he bribed someone at the Customs station to extract the genuine artifacts from the boxes and take them to John Cho. It was a nice little scam. They might have carried on almost indefinitely, but then Sister Conchita turned up, who could spot genuine carvings from those made at the mission. Bulko tried to get rid of her.' The inspector glanced at Kella. ‘And that aroused the ire of our friend and colleague here,' he concluded.

‘Unfortunately, it never occurred to me that it was Bulko who was trying to kill us in the swamp that night,' said Kella. ‘I couldn't see who it was in the dark. It was obvious that our attacker couldn't move too easily, so at first I assumed that it was Mendana Gau, who's in pretty poor condition.' The police sergeant hesitated. ‘Or, I thought it could have been John Deacon,' he concluded. ‘He's got a gammy leg.'

‘The plantation manager?' Grice was scandalized. ‘How could he have been involved?'

‘He exports seashells without a licence,' said Kella. ‘It would only be a short step from that to buying carvings and smuggling them out. But the man who was chasing us was a poor shot, so that ruled out Deacon.'

‘I should think so,' snapped Grice. ‘He's a white man.' He noticed that Lorrimer and Kella were looking at him. He flushed slightly. ‘Go on,' he ordered. ‘Can you prove that it was Bulko who attacked you and Sister Conchita that night?'

‘I managed to inflict a pretty severe cut on the leg of the man who shot at us,' said Kella. ‘Bulko has a nasty gash in the same place. I noticed that on the couple of occasions I visited his school afterwards, Bulko had stopped wearing shorts in favour of slacks or a long
lap-lap
. I should have put two and two together at the time, but I didn't. Perhaps I didn't want to. Sol was my friend.'

‘Mendana Gau's evidence will convict Bulko,' said Lorrimer confidently. ‘We'll find their man in the Customs Department, and he'll probably talk as well.'

‘So Bulko overreached himself when he stole that
havu
,' said Chief Superintendent Grice.

‘As I said, he got greedy,' said Kella. ‘He was the brains behind the operation, not a thief up in the bush like Mendana Gau. Mind you, you can see the temptation. The
havu
will fetch tens of thousands of dollars from the right collector in Australia or the USA.'

‘Why on earth weren't the police sent for in the first instance?' demanded Chief Superintendent Grice indignantly. ‘That's what we're here for.'

‘You're forgetting, sir,' Kella reminded his superior with quiet satisfaction. ‘There was no one on patrol in the high bush at the time. You had withdrawn me from Malaita in the run-up to the theft. That's why Pazabosi was able to kidnap Professor Mallory and hold him as a possible negotiating tool in case he had to confront the renegade Hita.'

In fact, thought Kella, Pazabosi had kidnapped Mallory for the same reason that he had placed a public bones
tabu
on the police sergeant. The old chief had known that his ostentatious flouting of the official law would only incense Kella and make him all the more determined to invade the high bush country to find out what was happening there. In the process, it was highly likely that the sergeant would come up against the hot-headed Hita and either arrest or kill him, thus disposing of the old chief's only rival, and allow him to enter the last days of his life in the tranquil contemplation of the
trochea.
Again, this would all be too complicated to attempt to explain to his English superiors.

‘Incredible,' said Grice. ‘Let me see if I've got it right. The two villagers who murdered Lofty Herman before the Japanese could find him are dead. Hita slaughtered Peter Oro as a sign for saltwater people to keep out of Kwaio country, and half-killed Mendana Gau for taking custom carvings from the area, but now Hita's dead as well. The headman ordered the custom killing of Senda Iabuli because the old man was in league with the devil. Well, we'll never be able to prove anything there.'

‘That's about it, sir,' said Kella.

Grice brightened up. ‘On the other hand,' he said, ‘we've broken up an artifacts smuggling racket. We've arrested Solomon Bulko and Mendana Gau for the smuggling. We've also recovered Professor Mallory unharmed. All in all, not bad work, not bad at all.'

‘Thank you, sir,' said Kella humbly.

‘Although,' frowned the chief superintendent, ‘we can't prove that John Cho was involved in the Honiara end of the smuggling, and above all, we haven't recovered the
havu
.'

‘I'm afraid not, sir.'

‘So there you are,' said Grice sententiously. ‘It's rounding off the details of a case which is important. Tidying matters up. Bear that in mind in future, Sergeant Kella.'

‘Oh, I shall, sir,' said Kella. ‘Thank you very much.' To his right Lorrimer was unable to suppress a snort of derision. ‘Excuse me, sir,' the sergeant went on. ‘Do you know what's going to happen to Father Pierre and Sister Conchita, now that Father Pierre is no longer a suspect?'

‘The old priest was never a suspect,' said Grice quickly. ‘He was just giving us the benefit of his considerable experience on Malaita. I understand that he and Sister Conchita will be returning to Ruvabi in the near future.' The chief superintendent paused for effect. ‘So you'll be able to see them both when you return to Malaita,' he concluded with a flourish.

‘Return?' asked Kella, his pulse quickening.

Grice waved an embarrassed hand. ‘You didn't do such a bad job over there this time,' he conceded gruffly. ‘I suppose there's something to be said for local knowledge. You're being put back in charge of the Auki sub-station — strictly for a probationary period, of course.'

‘Of course,' said Kella contentedly. ‘Thank you, sir; that's good news.'

‘Incidentally,' said the chief superintendent, changing tack, ‘this Sister Conchita, could she be described as eccentric?'

‘Sister Conchita could be described as many things, sir,' replied Kella, his heart beginning to sink. What sort of trouble had the nun got him into this time?

‘Extraordinary woman. She stopped me in the street the other day to praise you to the skies.'

‘I'm sorry she bothered you,' said Kella.

‘No, no, it was no problem. Bit of a surprise, that's all. Still, we need all the good public relations we can get. Well done, sergeant!'

‘Thank you, sir,' said Kella.

It certainly was good news about going back to Malaita, thought Kella, still luxuriating in a warm glow as other guests, white and Melanesian, began to enter the thatched church and fill up the benches. Sister Conchita may have overdone it as usual by teasing Chief Superintendent Grice in public, but by her standards it had been a relatively minor riposte, and as such one to be thankful for.

Someone slid into place next to him. It was the rotund Sergeant Ha'a, glistening with sweat and looking unusually excited.

‘That Mallory,' he said wistfully in an undertone. ‘Shacked up for days with three Sikaiana women. Do you think he'll ever recover?'

‘I don't think he's bothered much whether he does or not,' whispered Kella. ‘Bound to have some good memories though.'

‘Even if only from a wheelchair with a rug over his knees as he sips his cocoa.'

‘Anyway, what are you doing here?' asked Kella. ‘Do you want to talk about Sikaiana women, or are you thinking of turning Catholic?'

‘I know which of those two I'd prefer,' said Ha'a promptly. Reluctantly the plump police sergeant tore himself away from his erotic reverie and returned to business.

‘We've cracked the artifacts smuggling business,' he said with an air of triumph.

‘How did you manage that?' asked Kella.

‘One of the sisters from the mission was down at the wharf the other day. She noticed that a box of schoolboy carvings from Ruvabi contained genuine custom carvings. She came to HQ with the news. Luckily she met me there, and I took over.'

‘Was that Sister Conchita?'

‘As a matter of fact it was. How did you know?'

‘I guessed,' said Kella.

‘Right. Anyway, there's more. I flew back from the Western District this morning. Joe Dontate has given up his job as a troubleshooter for the Cho family. He's returned to Gizo to open another trading store.'

‘He told me he was going to do that,' said Kella, recalling his conversation in Chinatown with the broken-nosed bartender. ‘What about it?'

‘As you know, the Cho family already own stores around Gizo and Munda in the West. They're trying to give Dontate a hard time.'

‘Big mistake.'

‘I'll say,' chuckled Ha'a. ‘Joe wants to reciprocate and provide the Chos with some grief before he squeezes them out.'

‘How?'

‘When the custom carvings reached Honiara, one of the Customs inspectors in Cho's pay took them out of the box from Ruvabi and and smuggled them out to Cho. From what I can make out, Cho has a network of suppliers all over Malaita — traders, planters, teachers and the rest. Dontate told me that he knows where John Cho keeps those carvings. The Chinaman hasn't had time to ship the last lot out yet, with all the fuss over Bulko's arrest and the heat being on. The crates are in a warehouse behind the Lantern Bar.' Ha'a paused for effect. ‘Dontate thinks that the
havu
is probably stashed among the loot.' Ha'a hesitated and then said tentatively, ‘Seeing as it's your case, I thought you might like to lead the raid on the warehouse.'

Other books

Fire Mage by John Forrester
TheSurrenderofLacyMorgan by Suzanne Ferrell
Miriam by Mesu Andrews
The Osiris Ritual by George Mann
Persuasion by Martina Boone
Isobel by James Oliver Curwood
The Mouth That Roared by Dallas Green
Never Me by Kate Stewart