Murder in the Caribbean

‘Whoa,’ Dwayne said, holding up his hands. ‘Back up there a moment. Fidel and me have got the boat to shore. But we need to process the blood we found on it. And lift whatever prints we can find. So I came back to the station to pick up the Crime Scene Kit. And when I got here – only minutes ago, I can tell you – I found Amy waiting for me.’

‘You came back to get the Crime Scene Kit?’

‘I said.’

‘So why haven’t you got it in your hands right now?’

Dwayne was puzzled that his boss was so interested.

‘I was thirsty after all that hard work in the sun. So I got a drink of water with Amy here, and now – what you’re interrupting – is me telling her I’m busy on a case and we’ll have to meet up later on.’

Richard didn’t believe a word Dwayne was saying. He’d been sloping off work and hanging out with his new girlfriend again, Richard was sure of it.

‘I’m sorry if I’ve caused a problem,’ Amy said in her lilting Edinburgh accent.

‘It’s not you who’s caused a problem,’ Richard said, stiffly.

‘And anyway, it wasn’t Dwayne I came down here to see,’ she continued, and then she gave Dwayne a playful punch on the arm. Dwayne winced in melodramatic pretence that the punch had caused him mortal pain. Amy pulled a shocked face, and Richard sighed internally at the whole teenage horseplay of it all. As far as he could tell, Amy was in her early forties, and she and Dwayne were surely old enough to have got beyond what his mother called the ‘giggling and pinching’ stage of courtship.

It was only once he’d finished his thought process that Richard realised that he’d not quite registered what Amy had said.

‘How do you mean, you didn’t come to see Dwayne?’ he asked, as Camille joined them on the veranda.

‘Well, isn’t it obvious?’ Amy said. ‘I came to apologise to you.’

‘Apologise?’

‘Of course. For answering the door to you wearing only a towel this morning.’

Richard’s face flushed, and Amy smiled with an understanding of his embarrassment that just made his cheeks burn an even deeper shade of red.

‘Yes, well,’ he blustered. ‘It wasn’t quite what I expected, but don’t worry, I’ve seen worse. I mean, better. Or not better – that’s not right. I just mean, I’ve seen . . . if I’m honest,’ Richard said in quiet despair, ‘I don’t quite know what I mean.’

‘You just mean,’ Amy said, smoothing over Richard’s awkwardness, ‘you’re used to seeing semi-naked women.’

‘Well, normally only on the mortician’s slab, if I’m honest,’ Richard said by way of keeping things light, but it was only as he looked at Camille and Dwayne’s horrified faces that he realised how creepy he must have sounded.

‘Anyway,’ Amy said awkwardly, ‘no harm done. I just wanted to apologise. And introduce myself properly to you. I’m Amy McDiarmid.’

Amy held out her hand, and Richard was relieved finally that normality had resumed.

‘Richard Poole,’ he said. ‘How do you do.’

‘Very well, thank you,’ Amy said, as amused as Richard’s team was at his formality. ‘Although, I wanted to ask. Did you manage to see any birds this morning?’

‘How do you mean, did I see any birds?’

‘Well, it’s just, I couldn’t help noticing. When you came to the door, you had a pair of binoculars around your neck.’

‘You did?’ Dwayne said. ‘I didn’t notice.’

‘That’s right,’ Amy said. ‘A nice pair of binoculars.’

‘But you’re not into birdwatching, Chief,’ Dwayne said.

‘I don’t think he was birdwatching,’ Camille said as she realised what the binoculars meant. ‘You were spying on Dwayne, weren’t you?’

‘It’s not how it looks,’ Richard said weakly.

‘You were spying on me?’ Dwayne said, amazed.

‘But Thursday mornings are for revising for your sergeant’s exam. And I’ve never seen you with any of the revision materials in the office. Or talking about how hard the work is. In fact, I’ve seen no evidence you’ve even started work on your exams. So I just wanted to check up on you. You know, that you were actually studying.’

Dwayne stared long and hard at his boss.

‘You know,’ he said, ‘if you’d been using your binoculars to get a glimpse of a beautiful naked woman, I reckon I could understand where you were coming from. But snooping on colleagues to check they’re looking at a load of old books . . .?’

Richard didn’t quite know what to say. Dwayne was making it sound like he was in the wrong and not Dwayne.

‘Now, I’ve got a Crime Scene Kit to get,’ Dwayne continued primly. ‘Amy, I’ll see you later.’

Dwayne gave Amy a quick kiss on the cheek, and then he turned and entered the Police station.

‘Don’t worry,’ Amy said kindly, touching Richard’s besuited elbow. ‘You know what Dwayne’s like. He’ll forget about all this in no time at all. He doesn’t bear grudges.’

Richard’s mobile phone rang in his jacket pocket.

‘If you’ll excuse me, we’re in the middle of an active case, I’ll need to answer my phone, it could be important.’

Richard stepped to one side, which gave Amy a moment alone with Camille.

‘You really answered the door to him wearing only a towel?’ Camille asked.

‘I’m afraid I did.’

‘I’d have paid anything to see his face.’

‘He went bright red.’

‘I bet he did.’

‘You know what? Your boss is just like Dwayne said he’d be. But even more so.’

Camille smiled. She’d spent a long time with Richard, and she’d long ago realised that most of his sudden squalls of anger and stick-in-the-mud curmudgeonliness came from an upbringing that had straitjacketed him from the moment he put on his first suit, shirt and tie aged four. Camille believed that inside her boss, just as surely was the case with every human, there was a free spirit bursting to get out. In the meantime, she found herself a wry spectator to his wrecking-ball social interactions. And the fact that Richard was utterly dedicated to solving crimes went a long way in her mind to making up for all his other inadequacies. Mind you, she thought to herself, he’d crossed a line when he’d started spying on Dwayne with a pair of binoculars. She knew she’d have to speak to him about that later on.

Richard returned from his phonecall, energised.

‘Okay, that was Fidel, Camille. He says he’s found something on the boat we need to see. At once. Amy, you’ll have to excuse us.’