The beach was flawless that day. A shower that had passed through a few days earlier had washed it of footprints. He looked off at the spot where he had found the body of that poor old man, that man who had come to paradise to die. Edward had always felt the murder was a vandalism of his island. But there were no signs of it on the beach now. Everything had been erased. That was the difference between people and nature. Nature would always heal itself. It couldn’t be disfigured forever. His gaze moved onto a piece of seaweed floating in the bay, hopping over the waves in the middle of the bay where the inlet’s current was strongest. And then he realized where the murdered man had floated from and who had killed him.
“That body, you know that body I found – when was that?” Edward spoke to Woodes while looking down at his feet.
“We can talk about it back at the station.”
“But that body…”
Woodes didn’t respond. He hovered close to Edward, his arms slightly out, ready to guide or grab Edward.
“If you killed a man who found your secret stash, would you keep using the same place?”
“Edward…”
“No, right?”
Edward huffed like someone who’d just found money on the ground. He looked up at Woodes and started laughing, and everyone stared at him. Even Woodes’ eyes widened.
“Think about it. You don’t use the same hiding spot.”
“Edward, whatever you want to talk about can wait. Right now, you will step into that boat—”
“I thought those drug runners killed that man, but it wasn’t them. The body – when was that? Please just answer. I’ll come with you. I’m not going to resist or try to run away. But please tell me do you remember when I found that body?”
“Edward,” Chief Inspector Woodes said, “it was March tenth.”
“Wow. You remember the exact date. I don’t even know what day today is. But that’s more than eight months ago, right?”
Woodes slowly nodded. His eyes narrowed, obviously concerned about Edward’s state of mind. Edward looked around, seeing it all about to end, and vowed that he would never keep secrets. He would never lie again – even if it ruined him.
“I swam to that island so many times, fighting that current. That current – really strong – runs from the other side of the island straight into the bay. See, Inspector, I know it like the back of my hand. I once found this little yellow drink box on the other side of the island, there at the north shelf, and I threw it out into the water. Do you know what happened to it? It washed up on this beach the next morning. I think it could have taken ten hours for that drink box to float around the island and into the bay and up onto the beach.”
“Edward…”
“You said the man was killed within twenty-four hours – I remember that. The next night, one day later, in the darkness of the sea, there was big fire. You have to go to the village and talk to Joe the Bartender. He’s a little crazy, but he told me he saw a fire out past the island the night before I found the body. He told me that. You need to ask him.”
“What?” Woodes brought his hands up to rest on his hips.
“Yeah.” Edward laughed under his breath, driving his fingers into his hair to brush it back. He could see it all clearly now that he was drifting away from it. “That man’s body floated over during the night, washed up on this beach. I found it in the late morning. That means the poor guy was probably murdered right on the other side of that island. I thought it was those men, the drug runners. At first it made sense. He finds their secret stash. They don’t like it, so they kill him, burn his boat.”
“I understand. You told me before. Some men have been using that island to hide drugs.” Woodes nodded in a circular manner to push Edward to finish.
“Yeah, the drug runners. I would love to blame them – I would love to see them hanged, Inspector. Really, I would. You don’t know how much, but…” Edward shook his head. “But, it wasn’t them. They continued to use the area for their stash. If someone finds your secret hiding spot, wouldn’t you find another? There are thousands of places they could use. Why would they go back to a spot that’s been discovered?”
“Edward,” Woodes said, tilting his head slightly to the side, “How do you know what happened?”
“Because I know the man who murdered that guy,” he said sharply. “He owns this property. He’s right here. It’s Mr. Murrell.”
When Edward said this the five businessmen standing around Murrell gasped. Henry’s eyebrows jumped. Mr. Murrell jerked his head up and narrowed his eyes on Edward.
“That’s quite enough. That’s slander.” The commanding force of Woodes’ voice reappeared.
“But, Inspector, you might want to ask these men if they knew the victim. I forgot his name, but you told me he was the chairman for a company called Waterfall? Waterfall, right? Well, did you know Mr. Murrell, here, just bought that company?”
No one moved for a second, not even to breathe, and the only sound was the waves slapping against the boats. The men around him turned their heads to look at John Murrell, Murrell twisting his cigar in his mouth with his thumb and index finger, smoke collecting in a cloud before his face. Woodes glanced at Murrell without turning away from Edward. He studied Edward a while before turning to face Murrell.
“I apologize, Mr. Murrell. But I need to ask. Is his statement true?”
“Officer,” John Murrell said, “I think it’s like you said, that does sound very much like slander. And I’m pretty sure British territories have strong protections against it.”
“Yes. I am quite familiar with British law, Mr. Murrell. And once again, I apologize, but I need to know, is his statement true? Did your company buy this company, Waterfall?”
Edward looked off, further out, past the inlet where the sea was clear. He scanned the horizon for any ships that might be passing and listened for any boats nearby. And then with that bravery of someone with nothing left to lose, he turned to Mr. Murrell.
“That man, “Edward said, “he was one of the leaders of the company – a CEO or chairman or something. Your accountant, Henry, said it took months of negotiations – probably because that man didn’t want to sell his company to you. Is that right, Henry?”
He could see the blood draining out of Henry’s face. Henry shook his head like he was having a seizure and stepped back.
Edward turned to Murrell.
“What did you do? You found out the chairman of that company you wanted kept a boat on Tortola. So you invited him out to go fishing and talk about the deal. Probably asked him to keep it private, so no one knew about you and him meeting. So both of you headed out here without telling anyone. I’m thinking that man thought you wanted to do some fishing and negotiate, so he met you at the pier. You both went out on his boat. You suggested he take it somewhere around here. Did he know you had a house here? Probably not. Then you waited. Waited till no one was around and you strangled him with fishing line and tossed his body off the boat. He fell into the water and you started preparing the boat. You must have taken some gasoline and poured it around. The boat was all wood – that’s what the Inspector told me – an old wood hull. But, the body didn’t sink. The fishing line was knotted around his throat. Air was in his lungs. You didn’t consider that, did you? So, just out there beyond that island, you poured gas all over the deck and got ready, ready for your swim. When it was dark, you lit up that gasoline-soaked deck. Somewhere on the other side of the inlet island – because I didn’t see any fire. Then you jumped into the water. I didn’t see it, but Joe saw a boat burning from the peak above Pirate Cove village.”
Edward turned around and pointed at the main house.
“My God, Inspector, he was right there. When you were picking up the body, he was hiding out inside the house. The boat burned up completely and sank. Whatever evidence there was sank to the bottom of the sea. I bet – I bet, Inspector, if you dive that area, you’ll find it.