My Island Homicide Read Online Free Page B

wife.’
    â€˜Bring him in.’
    The first thing that struck me about Mr Ramu was that although he was dark-skinned, he was grey. It was the same grey skin all grieving people have and I’ve never worked out exactly how it happens. I can say, after dealing with too many heartbroken relatives following the disappearances or deaths of loved ones, that grief brings everyone to the same level and with it comes waxy-grey skin. Early on in my career, I termed the colour ‘grieving grey’.
    Mr Ramu was carrying a caramel-coloured child. He extricated an arm and we shook hands. ‘Robby,’ he said. ‘And this is my son, Alby.’
    Since I took this job partly to connect with my culture, I attempted a little Broken English, which I’d practised with Mum before leaving. She’d never spoken it to me or my brothers when we were growing up and the little I’d learnt was from visiting relatives. The few times I did answer Mum in Broken English, she issued the terse command, ‘Ebithea, speak English.’ When I accepted this position, she backflipped and was happy to give me lessons.
    â€˜ I proper sorry one for yu. ’ Perhaps it should have been just proper sorry for yu.
    â€˜It’s important my son masters English. I never speak Broken English around him.’
    â€˜I’m sorry. Please, take a seat. Actually, our conversation might be distressing to Alby. Perhaps he could . . .’ I was flustered. I didn’t know what I was asking Robby to do!
    â€˜He won’t go to anyone, not even my mother. Please continue.’
    I hesitated. ‘Okay, do you know where Melissa may have gone if she didn’t go to the meeting?’
    â€˜This is so out of character for her. She’s never spent a night away from Alby before. We live at the bottom of Millman Hill. Do you think she could be another molester victim?’
    Robby’s cultured accent was a sure sign he was highly educated. An Islander who spoke the Queen’s English and wouldn’t speak Broken English to his own child, well, he could’ve been the male version of my mother.
    â€˜At this point, we have to consider the possibility that Melissa could be another victim. However, I need to know whether Melissa has been herself lately, or if something has happened to change her behaviour.’
    My words hung between us in the hot heavy silence, broken shortly by Robby’s long sad sigh. I knew I was onto something.

Chapter 4
    Robby kissed the top of Alby’s head. I rotated the ends of the pen between my fingers while I waited for him to start talking.
    â€˜Alby was an IVF baby and Melissa reacted really badly to the hormones. She is desperate for another baby, but I didn’t want her to go through the mood swings or further miscarriages. We’ve been trying naturally for three years but last weekend, I finally agreed to see the specialist about treatment.’
    â€˜When did Melissa arrive on the island?’
    â€˜Eight years ago. She had some issues in Cairns and came here to have some time out.’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘She’d got in with a bad crowd and needed to get away.’
    I knew what was coming – a violent relationship, prostitution or substance abuse. ‘What do you mean by “bad crowd” and “needed to get away”?’
    â€˜Melissa was not in a good space and had turned to drugs. Coming here was her way of starting a new life. She did well, stayed clean.’
    â€˜What sort of drugs?’
    â€˜Cocaine.’
    â€˜Tell me about Melissa’s work and social life.’
    Melissa worked as a teacher aide at the primary school Monday to Wednesday and was studying her final year of primary education at James Cook University Thursday and Friday. She had been attending CWA meetings for about six months, keen to meet other mothers.
    â€˜She does spend a bit of time with Georgia Finucane, a fellow student. She’s not a