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“They’ll kill him in no time,” Porter said. “Why don’t you send me? I’m a dead man anyway.”

“Shut up,” I said.

Kaz rummaged in his musette bag and came up with three cans of chopped ham and eggs, and a supply of crackers. Porter looked surprised when Kaz handed him his share, but took it eagerly.

“I’m not an evil man, you know,” he said, running his finger around the edges of the can to get the last of the egg mix. “Just a bloke from Sydney who started down a road without thinking about where it might end.”

“You murdered three people on Tulagi,” I said. “Not to mention the deaths you caused on Pavau.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” he said. “At least not directly.”

“What really happened?” Kaz asked, using a few drops of precious water to rinse his fingers. Ever fastidious.

“What I told you before was true enough,” he said, licking his fingers. “Except it was me who went to hide the boat and Silas Porter who gathered the workers together. They were scared, having heard stories about the Japs on Bougainville. No one wanted to stay.”

“You took Porter’s Ross rifle,” I said.

“Right. He gave it to me to take away so the Japs wouldn’t find any weapons in his house. On my way back, I saw Japs coming up the road from the dock. They had two natives in tow, and it looked to me like they were being forced to carry supplies. They were stooped over with heavy packs on their backs. One of them tripped, and this Jap officer took out his sword and chopped his head off. For tripping.”

“So you shot him,” Kaz said.

“I did. Without thinking. I was ahead of them, in the bush along the roadside. Good concealment, only a hundred yards or so. Put the bastard down with one shot. But then I realized what I’d done, and tried to get back to warn the others.”

“Doesn’t seem like you did,” I said.

“No, I couldn’t get there, even though I tried my best. If I’d taken the road, they would have spotted me. I hoped the shot would have alerted the others, but even so, I tried to make it through the bush. About a quarter mile out, I checked the road and saw the Japs coming at a trot. I figured I’d riled them up plenty, and they were looking for anyone to take it out on. I fired one shot wild, to slow them down, but that only got them screaming and running faster.”

“So you ran off,” Kaz said.

“Yes! I ran, and no man can say he’d have done different, unless he was there. I didn’t mean for it to happen like that, but it did. I ran into the nearest grove and climbed a coconut tree. I watched Silas stand in front of his workers, trying to protect them. The Japs killed them all, shooting and bayoneting everyone. They set fire to the main house after that. Their blood was up, and it was likely my fault.”

“Likely?” I said.

“Well it was, I guess, but you never know with the Japs. I heard in some places they were almost polite to the plantation owners. In other places, they burned them out. So the same thing might have happened even if I’d never pulled the trigger.”

“Either way, you decided to take advantage of the situation,” I said.

“Yeah, I did. Silas didn’t have any family I knew of, and no friends, really. The only visitors had been Josh Coburn and Sam Chang. Josh had set off for Bougainville the day before the Japs invaded, so I figured him for a goner. I’m kind of glad to hear he’s alive, even if it did bugger me. He’s a good old bloke. As for Chang, I heard the Japs were murdering Chinese everywhere they found them. So why not take a chance? Folks aren’t big on paperwork in the Solomons, so I decided I’d take over as Silas Porter and work the plantation after the war. A fresh start, after I’d done my bit.”

“So far, you have only committed the crime of fraud,” Kaz said. “What made you decide to become a murderer?”

“Take a look at that sky,” he said, arching his head back and sighing. The sun was edging low, tinging the thin clouds with streaks of orange, the sea sparkling in the distance. “I wanted a peaceful life, with money and the beauty of these islands around me. I couldn’t face going back to Sydney after the war. I didn’t want to die a broken man, like my father, his health ruined after a lifetime of factory labor, his legs crippled.”

“Luckman told us your father had been in an accident,” I said.

“Yeah, a lorry backed into him, crushed his legs. It was a contractor’s vehicle leaving after a delivery, and Luckman claimed my dad had been negligent in stepping behind it, so it wasn’t the company’s responsibility. Best he would do was to give me dad’s job, so I could earn enough to provide some care for him. I took it, of course, hating every minute of working in that damned, sweltering factory.”

“And you left after your father died,” I said, trying to feel some pity for him.

“Yes, I wanted to start over. When the Japs came along, it was like everything fell into my lap. I knew that after the war I could rebuild and work hard, hard enough to turn a profit and sell the plantation.”

“But any buyer would want a deed, some proof that they owned the property,” Kaz said.

“I knew that,” he said. “Before I left I’d helped Silas bury his strongbox. It held cash, the deed to the property, a few gold coins, some other papers. All I had to do was come back after the war and dig it up. I thought I had everything worked out. When Daniel Tamana came along and threatened to ruin everything, I snapped. I surprised myself, really.” He shrugged, as if admitting to a minor character flaw.

“He recognized you,” Kaz said.

“Yes, but he wasn’t about to go running to the authorities. He wanted my old job when the war ended. Said he knew what it took for a man to succeed out here, and he wanted his share.”

“You went along with it,” I said. “Lured him to the beach.”

“Yeah, and I might have made that deal with him. There’s enough work to go around, and he seemed eager enough. We went to the beach separately, so no one would suspect we had any connection. But then he told me about Sam Chang, and how if I double-crossed him, he’d get Sam to confirm his story and take it to the authorities. Well, that was that. I couldn’t trust him if he was going to blackmail me. Who knows what he would have demanded next?”

“So you hit him on the head with your Australian commando knife and then threw it into the water,” I said.

“Damn, Boyle, you are a detective. That’s right. I didn’t plan it, really. It was like my anger took over, and suddenly the knife was in my hand, Daniel gazing out to sea, and then he was dead on the ground. It sickened me, to tell the truth. But after that, I couldn’t leave Chang as a loose end. I had to eliminate that threat as well. Very distasteful, but it left me safe and secure.”

“Why did you kill Deanna?” I asked, my voice soft and soothing, wanting the details to keep coming.

“Oh God, that was awful. I called the signals section from Sesapi, the day you showed up there. I got Gordie on the telephone. He mentioned that Deanna was on the prowl, looking for some Chinese woman. I knew exactly what that meant; she was looking for the Chang sisters. She and Daniel had been friendly, and I figured he’d blabbed the story to her. So when Gordie told me he was dropping her off in Chinatown, I took my chance.”

“You met her there, and killed her in that alley,” I said.

“Yes,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “I’d sent Kari off on an errand, and I knew if I acted quickly, I could be back at the dock before he returned.” His face clouded over, the pain and guilt overcoming his desire to tell us how clever he was. I’d seen this before, the criminal’s need of an audience to appreciate his audacity and skill, to share his belief in his own superior intelligence.

“You had it figured pretty close,” I said. “I saw John Kari in Chinatown, but I missed you.”

“Jesus, if I knew things would end up like this, I never would have started. I’d be glad to be plain, penniless Peter Fraser again. But I was in so deep, I didn’t see any other way out. I mean, after two killings, it’s almost a sacrilege to let the fear of a third stop you. Otherwise, the first two would have died in vain,” he said, in the remorseless logic of a murderer. “Don’t you see, Deanna’s death would have finished things? I’d be Silas Porter for the rest of my life. A plantation owner, a man of property, and a war hero to boot.”