My Island Homicide by Catherine Titasey Read Free Book Online Page B

wine cask boxes. The grass was overgrown and a woody vine, which I assumed was a weed, strangled the shiny cyclone wire fence. The fence was almost parallel to the ground, the result of, perhaps, an errant vehicle.
    We climbed the steps to a porch. Scurrying past us and under the house was a bony brown puppy. A toddler, wearing a sagging disposable nappy, waddled to the open door. A child of around four, with thick snot forming two green streams, appeared behind the toddler. Although the back door was directly opposite the front door, the living area inside was so dark everything appeared as dull grey shapes. I could just make out clothes, toys and mattresses on the floor.
    â€˜It’s bad feng shui having the front and back door opposite each other,’ said Shay quietly. ‘Energy comes into the house and escapes straight out the other door.’
    Oh, great. It seemed that Islander sorcery wasn’t enough for this investigation. Chinese superstition had a place now too.
    â€˜Which way?’ I asked the children, Islander-style.
    The older child let out a terrific, ‘Muuum’, which echoed in the small, dark room. ‘Police man wanna look you.’
    Seconds later, the huge form of Alia Bintu appeared before us, wiping her hands on her island dress. ‘ Wanem? ’
    Even though I’m tall, I was intimidated by her size and angry, narrowed eyes. I would not attempt speaking Broken English.
    I introduced myself. ‘Are you Alia Bintu?’
    She crossed her arms and raised her chin to me as if she was on the defensive. ‘Are you blong them Dari people lor Warral?’
    So my name did link me with my mother’s family from Warral. Since Mrs Bintu spoke to me in Broken English, I was going to brave a response back. ‘ Wa , my mother e Masalgi Dari .’ Bugger, I should have said, ‘Mother blong me.’
    â€˜I thought so.’ She pointed to the small deck. ‘Sit out here. Power got cut off yesterday. My husband been drink the electricity money after saying he was off to the post office to pay the bill. Nothing new.’ She sat in one of the plastic chairs around a plastic table. In the light, I could see the print of her dress was as faded as weathered bones. ‘Is Teddy in trouble again? He’s 19 now. I been telling youse I don’t want to know nothing ’bout him. He can sort out his own problems. ’Nother assault, I bet.’ She shook her head and cursed her son.
    But when I told her we wanted to talk to her about Melissa Ramu, who had not been heard from for almost 24 hours, she burst out laughing.
    â€˜Cheap white slut.’ She clapped her hands. ‘Good job after what she did to my Mikey.’
    â€˜What did she do?’ I asked.
    â€˜She been flog em . At school! Mikey, em five, em small boy. Her poofter boy, he need the flogging. Might toughen him up.’
    â€˜We understand you threatened her on Tuesday.’
    That sent Mrs Bintu into another fit of laughter, the fat of her gut rolling in waves. She quickly became breathless. ‘I get it. Youse think I killed her or something cos she hurt Mikey?’
    â€˜No-one said anything about you killing Melissa.’
    She tried to straighten. ‘I’m not talking to youse without one of them lawyer people Teddy always has.’
    I told her I would be more than happy to take her to the station to be formally interviewed in the presence of a lawyer from the legal service.
    The self-assurance drained from her face and she scratched at cigarette burns, like melanomas, on the tabletop. One of the children cried out from inside, ‘Fuck ya.’
    â€˜Shuddup,’ she yelled back and then continued in a whisper, ‘I wouldn’t hurt anyone. I’m not stupid. I know youse lot would be onto me.’
    â€˜You assaulted a bar attendant at the Railway Hotel last year.’
    â€˜It’s not like that.’ She looked at me; her full jowls made deep