Murder on Easter Island Page 4

  His mind buzzed with all the information Gomez had given him, and, for the first time in his career as a detective, he was baffled.

  He didn’t like the feeling — not one bit.

  Chapter 6

  September 2, 2014, Easter Island

  The two detectives rode in silence to the scene of the crime. Daniel had yet to take a tour of the island and was stunned at the beauty of the undeveloped countryside. When the road turned alongside the black volcanic beach, the view took his breath away.

  It was without doubt the most spectacular vista he had ever seen. The deep blue ocean pounded the shoreline, and thundering waves produced showers of sparkling droplets. In the distance, though, he could see a group of cars parked around an area next to the beach demarcated with bright yellow police tape.

  Gomez pulled his police car into the area, and, as he and Daniel got out of the vehicle, they were approached by a trim, Polynesian, early twenties man wearing sunglasses. He had on grey slacks and a long-sleeved blue dress shirt.

  Gomez asked the man, “Any news?”

  “Nothing you don’t already know.” He glanced at Daniel and added, “You must be Detective Fishinghawk?”

  “Yes,” Daniel said as they shook hands.

  Gomez put in, “He goes by Hawk for short. Hawk, this is Detective José Tepano.”

  “José, nice to meet you. Tepano . . . isn’t that a Rapanui name?”

  “It is, and I’m proud of it. I was born and raised here but got my police training in Santiago so I could come back and serve my people. Currently I am the only native Rapanui policeman on the force.”

  Gomez groaned, “You might like it here, but when these murders are solved, if they ever are, I’m not spending a second longer on this shithole island than I have to. I’m going back to my home in Valparaíso where I can have some peace and quiet. I miss my wife and children.”

  José paid no attention to the comment and asked Daniel, “Are you ready to have a look?”

  “You bet.”

  With that, they pushed past the gawking bystanders and stepped over the tape. Around twenty yards toward the beach Daniel got his first sight of the victims, an elderly couple, one man and one woman. As they drew closer he discovered the victims were sitting naked in white beach chairs facing the ocean. Their arms were tied behind their backs and they were securely lashed to the chairs with rope. Large pieces of flesh were gone and teeth marks were scattered everywhere. Cloth gags were in their mouths. Their eyes were frozen open in horror.

  Daniel thought he had seen everything.

  Not so.

  José said, “This couple from Australia thought they’d have a little quiet time on the beach. They both were having a little champagne when they were ambushed. They never had a chance.”

  Gomez asked, “Do the fingerprints match the other crime scenes?”

  “Yes.”

  “How about the teeth marks? Any evidence of sexual assault?

  “Yes they match and, like all the other cases, no sexual contact.”

  Gomez asked, “How much longer do you need to complete the forensics collection?”

  José cocked his head and estimated, “Another hour or two and we’ll have it all wrapped up.”

  “Good. I’ll go to the office and get the paperwork done. I’m going to need another goddamned filing cabinet if this shit keeps happening. Call me when you’re ready, and I’ll get the bodies picked up and put on ice.”

  Gomez turned to Daniel. “Have a look around for as long as you’d like, then Tepano will take you into town to rent a car and buy a cell phone. For this investigation, you’re going to need to be mobile — these murders are happening all over the island. And, believe it or not, I want you to take tomorrow off and do a little sightseeing. Get a feel for the place before we start working your ass off.”

  Daniel paused in thought and finally advised, “Gomez, I don’t think you can keep this under wraps any longer. I’m not a betting man, but I’d bet everything I have that a number of these murders could have been prevented. This couple would never have been out here alone if they had known what was happening. They were easy pickings.”

  Gomez scowled at Daniel. “If the public knew, they wouldn’t be here. And this island would dry up and blow away without tourist money. I have orders from my Chilean superiors to keep this top secret — at any cost.”

  He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Hawk, you’re not here to make judgments on how we do things around here. You’re here to solve this mess, so if you know what’s good for you, you will keep your mouth shut. Do you hear me?”

  Daniel met his steely-eyed stare and nodded.

  Gomez turned and walked away, heading for his vehicle. When he departed, the tires squealed in anger.

  José informed Daniel, “There’re a number of us here who agree with you, but Gomez calls all the shots, and there’s not a thing we can do about it.”

  “I understand, but I’ll still check with HQ about this.”

  “Do what you need to. It’ll be a while before I can take you into town, so go ahead and snoop around.”

  “I will,” Daniel said as he looked at the sky, “By the way, what are those large hawk-like birds I see flying around?”

  “They’re caracaras. They were brought to the island years ago to control the rat population. Whoever had that bright idea didn’t realize the rats were nocturnal. Since the caracaras don’t fly at night, the rats could care less whether they’re here or not.”

  “Whatever,” commented Daniel, “they’re beautiful birds, that’s for sure. They remind me of the red-tailed hawk back in Oklahoma, my home state. Anyway, I’ll check around. Yell when you’re ready to go.”

  Daniel left to examine the dead couple on the beach. He had sensed something earlier but thought better about saying anything. As he moved closer he was sure of it. Even though it was many hours after the actual murders, his fine-tuned sense of smell — the same sense that had helped him track the eastern cougar — picked up a faint, but distinct odor, which he was sure no one else had noticed. He had never smelled anything quite like it — an odd mixture of body odor, campfire smoke and earthiness.

  But there was more . . .

  Something else besides that macabre blend of odors was completely unique. As he closed his eyes and thought about it, his inner voice told him loud and clear what it was . . .

  Evil — pure unadulterated evil.

  Later that evening, Daniel drove his newly acquired Suzuki four-wheel drive rental car back to the Te Manutara Hotel. He pulled into the parking area, turned off the ignition, and sat — thinking.

  He was, to put it mildly, bewildered. Never had he come across a case that had no immediate answers, no pathway to a solution. For the first time in his life, he began to doubt his skills.

  What if I can’t figure this out?

  The more he thought about it, the more he realized this case would require thinking outside the box — way outside.

  No quick fix to solving this series of murders. Daniel knew he would have to begin a slow, methodical investigation, and he hoped, like when he sat in meditation, answers would eventually come to him. But this would be no short meditation; rather, one that could last for months.

  Daniel also figured he would have to learn the Rapanui language. Yes, he decided, to get at the nuances of the culture, he would have to be able to communicate with the local people. He had the distinct feeling that someone, somewhere, would eventually give him a clue that would set him on the right track.

  Perhaps he could find a book that would help him learn the language. His ability to assimilate and retain information was his ace in the hole.

  As Daniel stepped out of the SUV and began the walk to his room, he noticed an attractive middle-aged woman, wearing a short dress with a bright red floral pattern, sitting to his right in a lawn chair. He guessed she was Rapanui.

  “ ‘Iorana,” she said with a bright smile. “Welcome to the Te Manutara Hotel. Yo
u must be the new guest my husband told me about?”

  “Well — yes,” Daniel answered, surprised. “My name is Daniel Fishinghawk, but everyone calls me Hawk.”

  She motioned for him to sit in the empty chair next to her. “My name is Alame Koreta.” Her smile deepened. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just call you Daniel.” Her mid-length hair was brown and wavy, and her dark eyes smiled at least as much as her face did. She had a youthful and assured presence about her.

  “I don’t mind at all,” he said as he sat down beside her.

  “How do you like Rapa Nui so far?” she asked.

  “Rapa Nui?”

  “Yes,” Alame affirmed, “Rapa Nui. It is the name most islanders prefer.”

  “I see. Well, so far, so good, but I’ve been so involved with work I haven’t had the chance to see much of it.”

  “To really get a feel for our island,” she explained, “you must see what it offers. The moai — our lovely carved stone figures — and the beaches, the hills — there is much for you to explore. As you come to know us and our history, you will be better equipped to discover the answers to your questions.”

  Daniel studied her closely. It seemed she and Jack had pretty much figured him out.

  “I agree with what you’re saying,” he said. “In fact, I need a book on the language and a mentor to teach me about your island. Can you give me a recommendation?”

  “Let me do some checking, but there is an older woman who lives on Tu‘u Ko Ihu who might be willing to help you. She is in her nineties, easily the oldest living Rapanui, and knows much of the history of our island. Besides that, she has taken upon herself to learn English and Spanish. You would enjoy making her acquaintance. As for a book, I’m not a bookish person, but she might know of one.”

  “Good,” said Daniel. “One more thing, please. Tomorrow I’ve been given a day off to do a little sightseeing. What do you suggest?”

  She clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, the hike to Mount Terevaka, the highest point on the island. From there you will have a panoramic view and can see the island from end to end. Drive your car to the trailhead, and you should have no trouble finding the way.

  “Afterward you should hike down to ‘Anakena Beach, the place where our legendary founder, Hotu Matu‘a, first landed on our island. At ‘Anakena you may see some of our beautiful moai.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “It is,” she said. “Do you need a guide for the trip?”

  “No. I’ve got a map, and I really need some time by myself. But, come to think of it, I will need someone to pick me up at ‘Anakena to drive me back to my car. Could you arrange that, say, for around seven p.m.?”

  “I’d be glad to.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Koreta.”

  “O te aha no — you’re welcome. And please call me Alame.”

  As Daniel rose to leave, he felt Alame’s hand on his arm, and her ever-present smile had disappeared.

  “One more thing,” she added. “Be careful — watch your step. You are being watched.”

  “By whom?” Daniel asked.

  “That, I do not know.”

  Daniel nodded and walked across the lawn to his room. After he closed the door behind him, he checked it twice to make sure it was locked. Then he checked it again — just to be sure.

  Chapter 7

  September 3, 2014

  The morning brought a chill in the air as Daniel shouldered his navy-colored backpack and walked from his room. A green, manicured lawn spread out before him, divided by a stone walkway. As he strolled down the path to the building, which doubled as reception and breakfast areas, he enjoyed the sweet aroma of flowering shrubs.

  He entered the indoor dining area, which was surrounded by large glass windows. The outside was beautiful, and the inside equally attractive. The dining room was well lit and offered tables covered with bright blue tablecloths, while the decorated walls were a brilliant green. Two wooden statues, which represented moai, stoically guarded each side of the entranceway. He sat down at an open table and looked forward to another delicious breakfast.

  Daniel was served by a pleasant young Rapanui woman, and he couldn’t help but smile as he noticed a pink flower in her hair. A short time later, as he sipped on a cup of Earl Grey tea, he was presented with a large cheese omelet, toast and fresh pineapple, and a matching pink flower adorned the plate. Daniel had just started to eat when Alame arrived to greet him.

  “Good morning, Daniel, I trust you slept well?”

  “Like a log,” Daniel lied. After the warning she had given him, he had slept with one eye open.

  She chuckled and said, “Somehow, I believe that’s not true. Anyway, I wanted to let you know that the pickup has been arranged, and Jack will be there to meet you today around seven p.m. at ‘Anakena.”

  “Great.”

  “Also, last night I placed a call to the elderly woman I had mentioned, and she said she would be happy not only to tell you the history of our island, but also to teach you our native language. You know how older people can be — they love to talk about the past.”

  Daniel couldn’t help but think of his grandpa, and how much he wished he was still around to tell him stories about his Cherokee ancestors.

  Alame paused for a moment, as if she could read his most precious and personal thoughts. “Anyway, I believe you’ll find her most interesting. Her name is Tiare Rapu; Tiare means flower in the Rapanui language. I think you’ll agree that her name suits her quite well. She is as colorful of a person as you’ll ever meet.

  “I’ve written her name and telephone number on this piece of paper. Give her a call at your convenience; she is anxious to meet you. By the way, I know a little about Native American culture. Is Fishinghawk an Indian name?”

  “It is.”

  “That’s what I thought. When I shared my suspicion with Tiare, she said she would like to know more about your heritage.”

  As a large group entered the breakfast room, Alame said, “I must go. But before I do, I have one more suggestion. Spend some time sitting before the moai when you have the chance. You may discover that they will speak to you — as they speak to me.” She smiled. “And do have a good time in your explorations.”

  “I will,” Daniel said. He took his time and leisurely enjoyed the rest of his breakfast. As he was eating, he looked over at one of the expressionless wooden moai and thought:

  Speak to the moai?

  Daniel hiked up the gentle slope toward the highest point in Rapa Nui, Mount Terevaka. He had read that the word Terevaka meant “take out canoes,” and it was so named because the early settlers harvested wood from the area to make canoes.

  Most of the surroundings had been deforested, except for groves of eucalyptus trees on the hillside that had been planted in hopes of preventing soil erosion and reestablishing the forest.

  Daniel shook his head as he thought about it. Just like when the caracaras were introduced to control the rat population, efforts to manipulate nature often backfired. In the case of the eucalyptus trees, it was later discovered they had large tap roots that invade water aquifers, gradually depleting the ground water supply. Equally damaging, the trees used up large quantities of soil nutrients and produced chemicals that suppressed growth of surrounding vegetation, which tended to make the soil around the trees infertile.

  Daniel couldn’t help but remember the old saying, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

  Along the way up the mountain he discovered numerous caves. From his readings he knew they were actually lava tubes, conduits for lava flow during the eruption of volcanoes, formed in the island’s distant past. One particular cave had a large, flowering hibiscus bush at its exit. While he was a loner, for one brief moment he wished for a woman in his life, one who would enjoy having him place one of these beautiful red flowers in her hair.

  Some hours and much sweat later, Daniel made it to the summit and found a lone eucalyptus tree. He paused and looked aro
und to see 360 degrees of ocean. To the southwest was the city of Hanga Roa, sitting next to the ocean. A pair of cinnamon-colored caracaras circled over him.

  He was glad to have this moment of peace.

  Daniel lay down on the soft soil, put his backpack under his neck and fell into a soft slumber. Before long, he began to dream . . .

  He found himself stumbling through a dark cave, hopelessly lost in a quagmire of tunnels, angling up and down with seemingly no end. In his hand he held a flickering wooden torch, barely lighting his pathway. He was searching for something but didn’t know who or what it was.

  He heard the shuffling of feet from somewhere up ahead — something that felt dark and evil. He had to follow it. Somehow he knew that to stop would be death — and to find that sound might also mean death.

  The tunnel began to grow smaller and smaller, and soon he was crawling on his stomach through a tight space. All at once he became trapped. He couldn’t move forward and couldn’t back up. Then his light went out, and he felt something sticky, warm and wet ooze onto his outstretched hands. He couldn’t see anything, but he was sure it was blood — his blood.

  He could smell it.

  Daniel woke, stifling a scream.

  As he jerked upright to a sitting position, he thought: What’s my mind trying to tell me?

  After a short lunch of trail mix and a banana, Daniel followed his map and headed down the gently sloping hills toward the beach at ‘Anakena. After several hours of hiking, from a distance he could make out a number of tall palm trees, along with two groupings of moai, a solo one close to the water and a group of five, along with two statue fragments, farther away from the sandy beach.

  Daniel knew from his readings that the single moai was a much older one and was sitting on an ahu — a raised stone platform. This particular one was called the Ahu Ature Huki. In 1956 this moai was the first to be re-erected, and he recalled it took twelve men a total of eighteen days to raise the eleven-foot-tall statue, using a ramp of piled rocks and tree trunks for levers.