The House at Sandalwood (29 page)

Berringer shrugged. “It must, I suppose. William! What the devil do you think you are staring at? Come along.”

Bill Pelhitt looked around with a nervous start. “I don’t think you will need me, Vic. It doesn’t seem to matter any more.”

“Are you crazy? What doesn’t matter? My daughter has been murdered and you say it doesn’t matter? We can’t even be sure what the weapon was. A blow. It tells us nothing. I mean to find out who struck that blow. Someone too cowardly to face her.”

“We don’t know,” put in Lieutenant Padilla. “It may have been a blow from a fall. Anything. An accidental death.”

“And her burial? That can hardly have been ‘accidental’!” He added with cold deliberation, “The man—or woman—who did this is going to pay! And if it was two of them, they are both going to suffer for it. Ingrid Berringer was not some barefoot native girl killed by a jealous
kanaka
. She was Victor Berringer’s daughter!”

Unconsciously, Stephen and I looked at each other. I knew he felt as I did, that no girl, whatever she may have done, deserved that epitaph: to be of importance after death solely because she was Victor Berringer’s daughter!

Ten minutes later, when three men from Kaiana, including Dr. Lum of the Kaiana Hilton, arrived by boat, Lieutenant Padilla went off with Stephen and the two who had loved the dead woman to the improvised airstrip.

Stephen’s last instructions were for Nelia, who would try to act as Deirdre’s companion, since Deirdre was still refusing to see me. The knowledge hurt but did not surprise me. As Nelia and I watched the men go, Nelia remarked, “Funny that a man can care so little about his only child, and so much about himself.”

“I suppose so. It’s hard to know what men like that are really feeling.” I didn’t even know what Stephen was thinking at this minute, with all his terrible responsibilities and worries. But I was impressed by Nelia’s view, which was both cynical and penetrating.

The four men dissolved into the tight-laced jungle growth to the west of the village path. A short while later Ilima Moku came stalking along that path in a red-and-green flowered
ho
-
loku
.
Queen Ilima’s height and bearing and her vivid, deep color were emphasized by the long gown.

Nelia and I were taking in the dirty glasses and what remained of the ice and bottles when Nelia muttered, “Uh-oh. The queen arrives. Get out the red carpet. I’ll go up and see if Mrs. Steve needs anything.”

Considering the roadblock laid in the way of Stephen’s jeep at the time of the funeral, I dreaded a confrontation with the woman. Deirdre must never suspect the reason why the woman was here. She had gone through enough trouble, including her jealousy of me, and the uncertainties of her past, which she had long ago blotted out of her memory, but which existed, I was sure, in her subconscious mind.

I tried to behave toward Queen Ilima with the utmost naturalness. It was not easy. The lady came to the veranda and set one sandaled foot on the step. I said, “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Moku. It seems it was important to Lieutenant Padilla.” Ilima Moku’s proud, dark head inclined very slightly in my direction. “Is Mrs. Stephen in her study now? Or in one of the bedrooms?”

I trailed along after her anxiously.

“Would you mind being very careful in what you talk about, Mrs. Moku? She has no idea that—that—”

I couldn’t finish. It was like a nightmare replay of Claire Cameron’s death long ago. Once more the threat hung over Deirdre. If she realized that she was suspected of such a hideous crime, I couldn’t imagine what tricks her mind would play.

Mrs. Moku had already started upstairs. She did not look back. “I am not concerned with Mr. Berringer’s daughter, you may be sure, but with my own.”

This in no way reassured me. Her daughter had been buried only a few hours ago. Her mood could scarcely be charitable. I let her go on. She must have discovered where Stephen had left Deirdre, because I heard her open a door. Feeling like a sneak-thief, I went up after her as quietly as possible. To my surprise, it was Stephen’s own room whose door closed gently. At least these horrors had accomplished the object for which I had come to Hawaii. Deirdre must have finally grown up enough to accept Stephen, not only as a “guardian” but as her husband. I heard whispers. Then Queen Ilima backed out, followed by Nelia Perez, who was trying to quiet her.

“Poor thing. She’s only just got to sleep.”

“This is no matter of mine. Let me see her. I have given my word that she will not run away.”

“All right. Just a peek.”

With an impressive grace, Ilima moved silently into the room, satisfied herself, and came back out, closing the door with care.

“Very well. But I must take the room opposite. I will know then if she makes as if to leave.”

Nelia Perez said briskly, “That’s entirely up to Miss Cameron. She’s the housekeeper here. As for me, I wish I was on my way home. I should never have let myself be talked into staying here tonight. But Mr. Steve has his winning ways.”

Queen Ilima’s deep-voiced reply cut like a rapidly flashing knife. “His winning ways have destroyed my daughter. And now another is dead. And on that sacred ground. The
kahunas
put it under
kapu
long ages ago. Who disturbed that ground? The Giles family!”

I ran downstairs and was entering the little back parlor when Ilima called to me. I didn’t think it would accomplish anything if I forbade her to use Deirdre’s pink bedroom, so I merely asked what she would like for dinner.

“Nothing, Miss Cameron. I will not touch any food or drink in this house. I will go to that bedroom now and remain there. With the door a little open.” Having given her ultimatum, she returned to the upstairs region, doubtless to play detective all night.

By the time my own evening was over, although it involved very little work, I was not only praying to have Ingrid Berringer’s murder solved as soon as possible, but was hoping almost as strongly that Stephen would make peace with the Hawaiian villagers. Surely, no one could bear this house for more than a few nights without the usual friendly household staff coming and going. The place was a tomb. The roar of the Ili-Ahi falls deafened me at times. Then there were moments when the noise seemed to fade into distant obscurity, and that was worse.

Nelia and I saw each other when she came down to the kitchen for Deirdre’s supper.

“No,” she said in answer to my first question. “She’s not ready to see you yet, but I think, between you and me, she’s coming around. She really wants to be friends with you. It’s just—well, you know ... Anyway, all she will eat is toast and soup. Any of the
lomi-lomi
salmon left? That will be for me. That and the pork, and some beer.”

I asked about Queen Ilima. “Do you think she will ever forgive the Giles family? Surely, the new baby should comfort her a little.”

“It’s her sister’s baby. Still, Ilima may soften too. Some day.”

“Will they ever allow any of us
haoles
to visit Kekua’s grave?”

With a nervous little shiver, Nelia said, “The Kalanimokus are buried on that mountain above the village at the source of the river. Unless you’re a pretty good hiker, it’s no picnic. They’ve always chosen that area because it is hard to get to, through all that swampy patch at the base of the mountain. Of course, Mrs. Steve is devil-bent to go. She and Kekua were friendly, you know. But you can depend on it, Queen Ilima will never let her leave Sandalwood unless—that is, until Mr. Steve gets back.”

In the end our brief dinner together was the only bright spot in the long night. Nelia slept in the guest room, and I in mine. As I closed my door I thought, when this murderer is found—and it
has
to have been a stranger, not someone I love—I will leave here. Or was I hedging? I had said I would leave as soon as Deirdre recovered.

Where would I go? Back to California. Or farther east. There was a world there. Mine had been confined too long—it was time I saw that world. If only Deirdre and Stephen could be happy together, I knew that in spite of my own infatuation, I would be relieved. Enormously so.

I heard sounds occasionally in the night. A wind blew up and when I looked out the window toward the north and west, I could see rain clouds hanging over the distant peak below which Kekua had been buried today. I looked out into the hall several times. Always one light was on in Ilima’s room, and always the door was open a foot or so. But Deirdre did not leave her husband’s room.

I got back to sleep again and awoke a little after a clouded sunrise. I may have heard a sound without being aware of it, but when I opened my eyes to see someone standing beside the bed, looking down at me, I blinked and I may have cried out. It was only Nelia Perez, still in her nightgown. She was looking tense and reached out one hand. I backed away, but her finger touched my lips and my eyes opened wide.

She whispered, “She made it.”

I tried to ask, “Made what?” but I had to push her finger aside. “What is this all about?”

“Sh! Queenie doesn’t know. The old dragon’s finally fallen asleep. I could hear her snoring.”

I sat straight up in bed but kept my voice down. “Deirdre?”

“Read this. I found it on her bed.”

It was one of Stephen’s letterheads folded twice and sealed with a bit of Scotch tape. My name was scrawled on the back of the paper in the childish writing that reminded me of Deirdre’s letters to me in prison. I had the unpleasant sensation that I was back at the institution. Eagerly I broke the tape seal.

Darling Judy:

Forgive me. I’ve been horrid. A real louse.
Hold off Queen Ilima. I’m going to Kekua’s grave and plant a little slip from our shower tree. She always liked it. Please
,
please don’t let Ilima or her family know
.

Love,

Deirdre

“Good heavens! You don’t mean you let her go!” I was already out of bed.

“Not me! My room was farther away from her than yours is. I just heard one of those stairs creak and on a hunch I went to her room. Gone. Evaporated!”

Things didn’t look quite so bad to me. “Maybe I can call someone from the village to ... No. They’d only contact Ilima. But you must know the—” Her face clearly told me that was out. She shook her head vigorously.

“And get the whole gang to put a curse on me! Not little Nelia, thank you! I’ve my own problems without having
kapus
thrown in my direction.”

I knew I would have to go after Deirdre. “A trip like that could be very bad for her. She could have an attack and no one about to help her.”

“Excuse me, miss, but she isn’t that sick. Whatever palpitations are, they can’t be as bad as a heart attack. Anyway, she went under her own steam. I had a hunch, just a hunch, mind you, that she intends for you to follow her. It’s all so pat. She knew someone would find the note and give it to you. And she must know you’d go after her.”

I was grabbing clothes and dressing. As I gave orders I managed to keep my voice down. “I’ll have to go anyway. We can’t take the chance that this is some trick of hers. You go to Stephen’s room and keep the door closed. When you know Mrs. Moku is awake, make a bit of noise to let her think Deirdre is still there, but keep the door locked.”

“I don’t think it’ll do any good. Queen Ilima is no fool. But I’ll do the best I can.” She hurried off.

While I got into slacks, I looked out the window. I thought I saw Deirdre in something pink, far up the village path. I scrambled into a turtleneck sweater and pulled it down. I opened the hall door as carefully as Nelia. She was right. Ilima Moku had fallen asleep. I could hear the even sound of her breathing.

I slipped down the stairs and on the ground floor I began to run toward the front door, which would be the shortest way to the village path. The grass around the
emu
was wet and glistening. My sandals and my bare feet were soaking wet by the time I reached the trail and of course, Deirdre was now out of sight.

There were patches of blue sky between the great, puffed clouds with their dark lining, and as I went along the trail, slowing now and breathless, I kept going into shade and out of it. The trail was dappled with sunlight, but off to the west and the north it was raining over the peak of the mountain. I tried to remember the name. Liholiho? Lunalilo? It didn’t matter, but thinking about it kept my mind off my legs which were definitely beginning to tire, and I realized I had only begun mv hike.

But Deirdre would be tired also. She had only just returned from the hospital. It terrified me to think of a girl with a bad heart hurrying along this rough and twisting trail ahead of me. If I could only call to her, I could at least tell her to take it easy, tell her I wasn’t trying to chase or catch her. I just wanted to be certain she didn’t kill herself. I had passed this way only days ago but since that time we had gone through a storm that was little short of a hurricane, and the trail was littered with debris. I found myself climbing over broken tree limbs thick with greenery, all soggy and dripping.

I began to catch glimpses of the sea on the west, breathtakingly clear and blue, but beginning to darken in wider and wider patches under the rapidly shifting clouds. I came to a sharp turn that had been masked by the hibiscus blossoms blown across the ground and into a bush where they appeared to sprout beside pale yellow, star-shaped flowers. Beyond the turn, however, I caught sight of Deirdre below and to the east of the village trail. She appeared to be waist-deep in ferns. She must have reached the turn-off to the mountain burial ground, but she had not yet started to climb.

I called to her. Nothing happened. I tried again and then a third time, hoarsely, but my voice was swallowed up in that immense and luxuriant jungle. I made my way through a barrier of broken ferns that still seemed alive. They fell across the trail like hundreds of stiff cobra heads. The wind flung a palm frond in my face and I was momentarily blinded. I screamed and threw the thing away from my face. To my relief and surprise I now saw Deirdre again, in her pink shorts and halter and the little candy-striped jockey cap. She seemed to be on rising ground. She must have started up the mountain.

Then she looked back. I could have sworn she saw me. I waved frantically and called, “Deirdre! Stop! Please wait for me! Deirdre!” But she turned her head away and went on. It was odd and disquieting. I followed, running now. She did not look back at me again. So her note to me had been, in one way, a lie. She was not really apologizing—she was very obviously avoiding me. Or, as Nelia suspected, leading me on. That was a curious thought.