Bakers Rock (2/2)

There we were, six of us on a tiny island in the South Pacific halfway between New Zealand and Antarctica. I’d got up in the middle of the night to get a cup of Milo and had a huge fright when I found Wiremu, one of my housemates, was sitting up in the communal lounge looking like a zombie. I’d only just realized that he was sleepwalking when I got another shock. Another housemate, Shelley, burst through the back door. She’d been wandering about in the stormy weather and was suddenly bright and cheerful after weeks of suicidal depression.

All this was strange enough, but then I looked out the window and saw something bizarre. Out of the darkness, a red light shot suddenly and at great speed up into the sky, gradually growing in size. When it reached as high as it was going to go, it grew steadily larger and redder lingering in one spot as if it were floating there. Then very slowly, it sank, trailing a little tail of smoke. I realized then that it was some kind of flare.

My adrenal glands took over. I knew I needed to get out there to see what was going on. I also had to have someone go with me. I went to Shelley’s room and knocked on the door but there was no answer. I figured she might be listening to music with her headphones on or something so moved on to Katie’s room and opened her door. To my surprise, she wasn’t there. The covers were thrown back so it seemed as if she’d been sleeping then got up suddenly. She couldn’t have seen the flare from her room. She’d selflessly taken the only room with no window.

I moved on to Rob’s room and saw that his bed was still made up—he hadn’t even slept in it. I remembered then that he sometimes preferred to camp out.

“Wiremu!” I yelled, banging on his door. “Are you awake now?”

After a few moments he opened his door and looked at me with bleary eyes.

“What is it?” he asked through a yawn.

“I just saw a flare go off. I need you to go with me to see what’s happening.”

“OK, two ticks,” he said.

I rushed off to get dressed and met him at the front door fitted out in boots and headlamp.

At that moment there was a sound that reverberated against the wet rock and hit us like a physical slap.

“That’s a gun,” said Wiremu with dull conviction, mirroring my own internal dread.

As we descended the dirt track leading to the jetty, the moon came out from behind a cloud. I grabbed Wiremu’s arm and pointed.

“Look,” I said. “What’s that there in the water?”

“The kayak,” he said with a note of incredulity in his voice.

Our team had a kayak that we used sometimes to go fishing or to do experiments. Whoever was inside was paddling hard, making their way out to sea. In the distance, at the mouth of the harbour, we saw the black shape of something that looked like a whale back.

“Shit, I think that’s a submarine,” said Wiremu in wonder.

“Hey!” I yelled feebly at the kayaker.

Needless to say, there was no reaction.

“Do you reckon we could swim out there?” I asked Wiremu.

“I dunno, it looks pretty far out to me.”

Even so, we set off running but just before the jetty I tripped over something, landing flat on my stomach and pressing the wind out of my lungs.

“Oh Christ,” Wiremu said. “Oh Christ!”

“Don’t worry,” I said irritably, “It’s not that bad, I’m just winded. I’ve done worse on the rugby field.”

“Look what you tripped over.” He pointed his flashlight at the ground behind me.

I turned and saw a leg—somehow I’d missed it in my rush. Training our lights on it we realized it was attached to a body. Judging by his size and his dress, it was Ian. You couldn’t tell from his face because that was a bloody mess. Holding my breath, I leant over him and felt his pulse. Nothing.

“Stone cold dead,” I said.

“What do we do?” Wiremu said.

“Well, we can’t leave him here, can we?” I said doubtfully. “We should take him up to the house.”

“I’m not touching him,” said Wiremu. “It’s tapu.”

I’m Ngai Tahu and I know perfectly well that tapudoesn’t exactly work like that. Nevertheless, I was in no hurry to touch the corpse again.

“All right, we’ll go up to the house and get a stretcher,” I said.

When we returned to the house Katie was at the door. I noticed she was fully dressed, her hair was wet and she had a flashlight. She looked on edge.

“What’s going on?” she asked sharply.

“We saw a flare and went to see what it was.”

“Oh, so that’s what that was,” she said. “I got up to see that.”

I didn’t tell her that I’d been in her bedroom and she hadn’t actually been there. But I made a mental note of the fact she was lying.

“While we were going to see what was going on, we heard a gun shot,” said Wiremu.

“Shelley…” Katie said, with a catch in her throat.

“It’s not Shelley,” I said.

“Then who…?”

“Ian,” I said. “I need you to help me carry him up here. But prepare yourself…as you can probably guess, it’s not a pretty sight.”

I pointed to Wiremu, who was busy being sick against the hut wall.

Katie and Shelley got a stretcher from the store house and hefted the body up the hill, into the storeroom, wrapped it in a sheet and tarp, where it would be protected from animals and the elements. Then Katie radioed HQ to let them know. They said it would probably take a week for someone to get out to the island.

After doing all that, we gathered in the lounge for a cup of tea. Neither Fern nor Rob were anywhere to be found. I mentioned to Katie that Rob had probably camped out, though now I was wondering if it had actually been him in the kayak.

It was just as we were talking about him that he came striding through the door, looking like the original wild man—long hair and beard matted. There was a strange grassy smell about him

“Where have you been?” Katie said accusingly. “Ian’s dead,” she added.

“Finally got fed up with him, did you?” he joked.

It was in bad taste and everyone was shocked into silence. He looked around, surprised.

“You’re serious?” he said. “But I saw him just a couple of hours ago—mucking about down by the jetty.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“Nah, I saw him through my binoculars. I was stargazing in the tent up on the hill when I saw a light down by the water. I realized it was him because he had that blue light on his headlamp.”

“Did you go and see him?” Katie asked.

“No, why would I?” Rob shrugged. “Not like we were best mates.”

“Rob,” I said, annoyed by his insistent levity, “Someone shot him right in the face.”

Rob whistled.

“And we can’t find Fern. We think she left in the kayak,” I added. “It looked like it was going out to a surfaced submarine just beyond the point.”

“Ohhhh!” he said as if he’d suddenly seen the light.

“What?” we all said at once.

“It all makes sense. You know how she hadn’t been checking her traps lately?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“She had a radio set up in the bush there—where she used to do her botanical drawings. I stumbled across it tonight on my way to the campsite. I also found this.” He produced a piece of paper from the breast pocket of his Swanndri.

I took it. It was a laminated map of the Southern Ocean, with rays spreading out from Canberra to Antarctica, with several points marked as ‘New Canberra’, ‘Southern Woolongong’ and ‘Cape Vegemite’.

“Weird!” I said.

“Do you know what that looks like?” said Wiremu, pointing to the lowest landmass. “I saw this article in New Zealand Geographic where they mapped out the Antartic coastline, what it will look like when the ice melts. She’s put those daggy Australian names on the peninsulas and capes.”

“Well, why didn’t you stop Fern from leaving?” Katie asked Rob.

“I didn’t see her. I was on the other side of the island by then,” he shrugged.

Katie had us light some candles and we agreed on a schedule so each one of us would keep vigil over the body for a couple of nights. None of us had liked Ian, it’s true, but the ritual was comforting. When you’re hundreds of miles away from civilization, ritual helps somehow. It’s a buffer against the enormities.

I watched over the body first. Secluded in the cold storeroom, bundled up in my sleeping bag, alone in the flickering light, my mind was a confused tangle of fears, suspicions and emotions.

On the face of it, it seemed obvious what had happened. Clearly, Fern was not your average hippie. She was involved in some kind of plot with some power that had at least one submarine. They’d arranged to set off a flare out at sea as a sign that she should come out. Ian must have seen her sneaking out at night. He followed her. Maybe he’d tried to stop her from leaving and she’d shot him in the struggle. Or maybe she’d just shot him because she was leaving anyway and it was the perfect riposte to all his snide little jokes. Then she’d jumped into the kayak and started paddling.

It seemed simple, neat. But somehow it didn’t track. Why not?

As usual, when I’m working through a problem I got out a notebook and jotted down the things that were bothering me. I started with a timeline of the evening as I remembered it.

Alibis

1.30am I woke up and went into the lounge. Wiremu was sitting up (sleepwalking?)

1.40 In kitchenette making Milo. Shelley comes in backdoor, soaking wet. Walking (how long?)

1.55 I see flare out at sea. I check bedrooms: Katie and Rob are not there. (where were they?)

2.05 Wiremu and I hear a gunshot & go down to the jetty.

2.10 We see the kayak off shore (maybe 1km?). We find Ian’s body. Cold

At that point I realized what it was that was bothering me. Five minutes after hearing the shot, we found the body and it was completely cold. I’d never touched a corpse before but I knew enough to know that a body didn’t get that icy in five minutes. What’s more, how could Fern have had time to row out so far in such a short time?

Ian must have been shot much earlier. Maybe that was what had woken me up.

I felt goosebumps spread over my flesh as the implications of my realization dawned on me. It was possible that Fern hadn’t killed Ian, at least not the way we’d imagined it. Had someone come ashore from the submarine? Were they lurking in the bushes with a knife in their teeth planning to kill us all?

As frightening as that thought was, the other possibility was almost worse: the killer was one of us.

It occurred to me that there were three rifles in the storeroom. If one of them was missing, it would prove my suspicion. I went to see them and shone my light there. There were three, as usual. However, two of them looked dusty and covered in spiderwebs. The third was spotless, as if someone had wiped it clean not too long ago. Someone had taken it, shot Ian, wiped it down and put it back here. Who?

I went back to my notebook. At this point it seemed like it was my only ally in a hostile universe. I imagined a different scenario for each person.

Scenarios

Fern: Fern sneaks outside when she thinks everyone’s asleep. Ian follows her and confronts her (around 12am??). She shoots him, then goes up to the storeroom to replace the gun. She waits in the kayak for the flare (1.55) then makes for the submarines.

Motive: She panics because he was going to stop her escape

Wiremu: He sees Ian follow Fern out. He follows Ian with the rifle, shoots him, replaces the rifle in the storeroom. He then sits in the lounge, maybe horrified at what he did. When I arrive he pretends to be sleepwalking.

Motive: Angry at Ian’s hateful, racist comments. He wants to teach him a lesson.

Shelley:  She follows Ian down to the jetty and shoots him. She puts the gun back and comes through the back door. When I surprise her, she pretends she was just taking a walk.

Motive: She wants to take revenge on Ian for killing her chick.

Rob:. The ‘stargazing’ excuse is bullshit—it was a stormy night!! Maybe the real reason he is camping is because he knows Ian plans to ambush Fern. Rob decides to ambush Ian instead. He kills him, puts the gun back and comes in late pretending not to know what went on.

Motive: Unknown. Was he trying to protect Fern?  Does he have his own agenda?

Katie: She says she got out of bed to investigate noise. This might be true—maybe she hears that the birds are upset when Fern and Ian go out. Katie goes outside with the gun and surprises Ian…he realizes he’s being followed and there’s a scuffle. Katie shoots him and returns the gun to the storeroom.

Motive: Accident? Something else?

“Whatcha writing there?” I heard a voice behind me and nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Shelley!” I said, closing the notebook with a slap. “God you scared me. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I can be quiet,” she grinned in a way that was a little eerie in the candlelight, emphasizing the dark hollows of her eyes.

“I was just arranging my thoughts, you know. Had to keep my mind occupied. It’s a bit creepy in here.”

“Oh yeah, I know what you mean,” she said, “I brought my music in with me. She held up her headphones.”

“Listen, Shelley,” I said, “You know when you were out walking?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you…hear anything?”

“Like what?” she asked, waiting. Her eyes narrowed. The storeroom suddenly seemed incredibly quiet, so much so that I imagined I could hear my own heart beating. I was suddenly acutely aware that by suggesting the killer was still at large, I could be taking a fatal risk.

“Oh, just…anything unusual,” I said. “I’ve been trying to replay what happened in my mind. I guess it’s normal after a—” I was going to say ‘murder’ but stopped myself. “After an accident. You know, replaying it all in your head.”

She nodded.

“Yeah. I know after I found Riley dead, I was like that…I kept imagining ways I could have stopped it.”

She was still looking at me intently.

“Exactly. Anyway, what are you doing in here already?”

“I thought I could take over for you. I can’t sleep anyway and you’re probably tired.”

“Oh, OK. Thanks, that’s really kind of you.”

“No worries,” said Shelley. “Oh, and Jane?”

“Yep?”

“Take care of yourself, won’t you? Don’t think about it too much. Otherwise…you know.”

“Yeah, thanks Shell,” I said. I pretended to take her advice as a sign of sympathy. In fact, though, I heard it very much as a threat: don’t talk, or else.

The next morning I felt like I had to go for some exercise or I’d go crazy. I decided to go for a long walk about the island. I passed by Fern’s usual hide-out. It was a little cave scooped into a cliff face. I saw the radio Rob had mentioned, together with a green-and-yellow scarf and a small koala with Velcro on its paws holding onto the side of the scarf.

Then I walked further than I usually do and found myself in an area I’d never been. I saw something strange: Rob’s tent and another tent of clear plastic that seemed to have a lot of condensation on the inner walls. I went closer and looked inside.

“Ingenious! It was a homemade hothouse full of cannabis. He’d managed to keep it warm with a pot of hot coals in there.”

“Aw, hello!” said a voice behind me. “So you know my secret.”

“Yeah. But I don’t know why it’s a secret,” I said. “It’s not like any of us would dob you in.”

“Er, Ian?” he smiled wistfully.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point there. He’d dob you in in a heartbeat,” I admitted.

“You want a joint?” he said politely.

“Heck yes,” I said.

We sat down on a piece of driftwood and gazed out to sea as we smoked.

“I’ll tell you something,” he said. “Fern told me shit was going down. But I didn’t believe her”

“Did she say why?”

“Hinted at it. She said something about enemy agents had uncovered her. To be honest with you, I thought she was just being a bit paranoid. Happens with some people when they smoke this stuff.” He waggled his joint before passing it to me.

“This is exceptional weed,” I said, impressed.

“Thanks, yeah. It’s a hobby of mine. Doing my own science experiments out here.”

We had a pleasant chat and I was in a much better mood as I made my way back to the house. I realized it was about my turn for sitting by the body and came near the shed, whose window was open slightly. There were two voices in there. Katie and Shelley. Some instinct made me stop and listen.

“So what are we going to do…lie?” Shelley asked. She sounded different somehow, sharper.

“No, there’s no need to lie,” said Katie. “It’s entirely possible that Fern died, isn’t it? I mean, you saw me shoot at her.”

“Shoot in her general direction, maybe.” Shelley grumbled. “You were trying to miss.”

“As far as we know, she was hit. OK? Target did not make rendezvouz”

“Why protect the enemy?”

“Why not? Listen, she wasn’t an enemy. She was our friend who deserved a chance. Besides, who would you rather please, the Brits or the Aussies?”

“Neither.”

Gulping, I decided to take the risk and pushed the storehouse door open.

“What the hell is going on here?” I said, glaring at the two of them.

“Jane…” Katie said.

“Tell me the truth,” I said. “Go ahead and shoot me if you want.”

“No one’s shooting anyone,” said Katie.

“More’s the pity,” mumbled Shelley.

Katie glanced at the tarp.

“Look, this joker’s not going anywhere. Why don’t we head into the lounge for a cuppa. I’ll tell you about it.”

Katie sank into an armchair and sighed.

“Look, Jane, I owe you an apology. We’re not who we’ve been saying we are. We’re with the NZSIS. Katie and Shelley aren’t our real names. I’m not authorized to tell you who we really are. The reason we were assigned to this team was because we had word that there was an Australian operative sent here on an intelligence-gathering mission.”

“What, Fern?”

“Yeah,” said Shelley. “We didn’t know exactly what it was at first, we had to track her movements. That’s why I pretended to be looking after that blasted chick. I needed an excuse to be up at nights and investigating her hideout.

“Turns out she was aiding them in something called Operation Frozen Vegemite—as ice melts and landmasses become inhabitable Australia wants to settle bases there. Bakers Rock was going to be part of that. Goodbye to the gannet colony in that case.”

“So, Ian didn’t kill Riley?”

“No, Riley died of natural causes, poor thing.”

“I thought…” I stopped myself in time.

“You thought I killed Ian because of the bird?” Shelley smiled. “Nah.”

“She killed him because he was aiming a sniper rifle at Fern,” said Katie.

“What?”

“Yeah, Ian was with MI5. The Brits were onto the Operation Vegemite plot. They’d been tracking the sub’s movements. Much like Queen Victoria, they did not approve. Ian was planning to take Fern out of action.”

“But, the NZSIS and MI5 were working together weren’t they? Haven’t you just killed a friendly agent?”

Katie and Shelley exchanged a look.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Jane. There was a struggle. Fern shot him and then escaped. That’s how it happened. Right?” Katie said.

I nodded.

“Right. Of course.”

“Tragedy, of course, but these things do happen,” said Shelley.