Black Lagoon

By Drew Lindsay

Ben reluctantly accepts an assignment to visit a small island in Fiji. The beautiful owner of a Hedonistic resort on Volo Levu is being bullied into selling to a man who will stop at nothing including murder to get this island away from her. Police corruption is rife. Ben’s attempt at obtaining justice for his client puts his own life dangerously on the line.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Drew Lindsay
• Release date: May 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463548462

Drew Lindsay

Drew Lindsay is a dynamic Australian Novelist and Writer. He has travelled extensively throughout Australia and the world. His background includes working as a Policeman and detective, then managing his own private investigation business as well as working in Fraud Investigation Management positions within the insurance industry.Drew is a PADI Divemaster and holds a private pilot's license. He has a great love of entertaining others with his vivid imagination. His novels allow the reader to escape into worlds of romance, excitement, humour and fast paced adventure. Drew lives in northern New South Wales with his wife.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

She slowly brushed her long black hair. Slow, deliberate strokes…three on the right and three on the left; parting the hair evenly on each side of her head and using her left hand to hold the hair and her right to move the brush. She was high above the emerald green and blue sparkling ocean which stretched out before her as far as the eye could see…to the right and to the left. The Mamanuca Islands lay before her, some to the right and some to the left…some low and others with towering volcanic mountains. All islands were covered with lush green vegetation and palm fringed white sand beaches, occasionally breaking the advance of the jungle into the sea.

She sat in a solidly built cane chair on the southern end of a verandah which surrounded a huge concrete and timber bungalow with a traditional palm thatched roof, constructed by her grandfather in 1949, on the South Western side of a jungle infested mountain on the island of Volo Levu. Her Grandfather, Frances Middleton Esquire, formerly of England, had managed to purchase Volo Levu with the assistance of the British Government, which had control of the Fijian Islands until Fijian independence in 1970. Frances had left the island estate to his Fijian wife when he passed away in 1968. His Fijian wife died in 1973, leaving the island and all that stood there on to their most treasured and single granddaughter, Sereana. (they, having being estranged from all their own children following a bitter disagreement over money)

Sereana continued to slowly brush her long black hair as she looked out at the ocean and the beloved Mamanuca Islands beyond the coral reef and lagoon surrounding her own Island, Volo Levu.

She was a stunningly beautiful woman in her late 30’s with suntanned, olive skin inherited from her mother. Her eyes were an exotic mixture of grey and deep blue, an issue which had confused her parents for years until they gave up wondering what color they actually were and just accepted her in total, the way she was. Her body was beautifully formed, taking again the genes from her mother. Her legs were long and slender. She slowly crossed them over each other at the ankles… right over left; then changed her mind and crossed them the other way for a few minutes, then back to right over left. She never wore anything on her feet while she was at her home. Her toe nails were always immaculately manicured and painted with the brightest of colors, but mainly a variety of blue…to match the ever-changing colors of the water in the lagoon which surrounded her island.

Except, that is, when the water in the lagoon turned dark grey or black as it did when reflecting the clouds above. Black water in the lagoon was the worst. If someone was going to violently die in this area…as local Fijian legend amongst some of the indigenous people from the Mamanuca Islands swore by…it would be when the water in the lagoon surrounding Volo Levu turned black.

Obviously, on a clear night, the water in the Volo Levu lagoon was black…even in moonlight, but that didn’t count. Moonlight created billions of silver sparkles on the surface of the water… dancing and shimmering as an ocean breeze or a rising tide passed through. A black lagoon in daylight hours however, was feared by some. It was usually accompanied by torrential rain and often lightning and thunder, which made it all the worse.

Sereana wasn’t one to fear the lagoon surrounding Volo Levu when it turned black…or so she told everyone she knew…especially anyone visiting her health and wellness resort which was nestled amongst the palm trees and jungle, slightly elevated but right on the sandy beach well below where she sat. This was Serena’s resort. She had poured her heart and soul into its creation and on-going operation for the last 5 years. The resort catered to the rich and sometimes famous. 30 luxurious bures, each facing the ocean with a huge communal building in the center which contained three specialized restaurants, a wellness spa area with heated pools and massage stations, counselling and rehabilitation rooms as well as a sports section which catered for those wishing to engage in regular pool aerobics in the heated swimming pool, or perhaps scuba diving instruction or evening relaxation flotation sessions when the pool lights were turned off and soft music played through underwater speakers.

Serena’s resort was called Serenity

Sereana had a 17 year old daughter living with her. Everyone called her Sissi. That wasn’t her real name but other than Sissi and her mother, no-one on the island knew her real name. She was home schooled…which she hated with a passion, but with boarding school as an alternative she reluctantly accepted. Sissi was a stunningly attractive girl and she knew it. Tall, like her mother and blossoming into adult physical womanhood more rapidly than her mother, and even Sissi herself, anticipated. This had caused a few problems in the luxury resort which Sissi often frequented, especially amongst visiting males.

Sissi refused to have hair like her mother’s. Hers was cut short and bleached blond. She had a silver nose ring in her left nostril. She had vague memories of her father. He had left Sereana when Sissi was 8. She recalled in the secret parts of her mind that he was a very tall man, very handsome with short black hair and a moustache. He used to sit her on his knee and stroke her hair but he never said much. She never really understood why he left her and Sereana and her mother never spoke of him. She resented her mother for this and although she never voiced her opinion, she felt strongly that her mother was the cause of her father abandoning them. He never said goodbye. He was just there one day and gone the next and he never contacted them. It was as if he had just died, but Sissi knew that he wasn’t dead. She vowed in her mind, when she was older, to search for him and find him…one day.

And of course, there was Simon. He was the heavy chain around Sereana’s leg. The only son from a week long and very torrid relationship when she should have known better and didn’t. Simon was 22. He also resided on Volo Levu, but in one of the small cabins far up on the jungle clad hillside above the resort. Sereana had taken care of him since his release from prison in 2016 on a rather obscure charge of sexually assaulting a 17 year old girl on a train at Central Station in Sydney. He loved the isolation of the South Pacific Island. He rarely visited the resort. His duties revolved around maintaining the solar powered desalination plant which provided sparking fresh water to the resort, and maintaining the sewerage treatment plant. It wasn’t tough work because each system was state of the art…unless something went wrong and Simon had received training in order for him to fix basic problems involving desalination, sewerage and solar power for electricity.

Simon was a tall skinny man and he walked every day from his small bungalow, or his upstairs room in the desalination plant, where he spent much of his time. He knew every track and trail on Volo Levu. Walking made his muscles lean and strong. He had long brown hair, usually tied back in a pony tail. He shaved when he felt like it…usually every Friday afternoon. He was somewhat compulsive. Friday was shaving day. Monday was desalination plant maintenance day. Tuesday was sewerage plant day. Wednesday was solar power checking day…the easiest day of all. Nothing ever went wrong with the solar power. Thursday was food stocking day and fishing if the mood took him. Friday, he shaved and then might wander close to the resort to watch, through the jungle as half-naked resort women did their work-out in the swimming pool. That was a favorite day. Saturday he often drank beer from noon till he fell down. Sunday, he recovered. Each day however, he walked along tracks through the jungle of Volo Levu…often to the peak of the highest mountain, other than on Mondays. He was usually too hung over to climb the mountain on any Monday. Mondays he usually walked the beaches…or not.

****

CHAPTER TWO

The naked body of what was obviously a young female with long blond hair, but minus most of her right arm, washed up on Volo Levu, onto a remote beach well east of Sereana’s wellness resort. The body had bloated slightly with intestinal gas, bringing it to the surface of the sea and a strong southerly wind together with an incoming tide had brought it past several large outcrops of green slime covered rocks and onto the beach. The corpse was completely naked.

Rain on the evening before the body washed ashore had been torrential. One could hardly see the setting sun through the menacing clouds and the water in the lagoon surrounding Volo Levu was black.

Cynthia Tweed, a dedicated health nut, had walked around Volo Levu every morning since she had arrived on the island 12 days before. The scheduled resort workouts were just not enough for her. The round island walk was easy for about one half because it was sandy beaches. The rest was a narrow track through thick jungle and over rocks, dead coral and fallen tree trunks.

The morning sun was desperately attempting to break through thick grey clouds as Cynthia pushed on through a particularly thick patch of jungle and headed for a patch of sandy beach where she concluded that an ocean swim would be in order…till she saw the body. Crabs crawled out of the grey open mouth. She vaguely recognized this woman. She had seen her at the resort some days previously. Loud mouthed and very opinionated as she recalled, but with both arms quite intact and very much alive. But now she was dead and her right arm was missing. Cynthia vomited onto the sand.

****

CHAPTER THREE

You would be forgiven for thinking that a middle-aged man named Andrew Boon, wouldn’t kill a fly…but he would, and did, as often as he could corner one of the filthy flying creatures and slap it against a window pane with his open hand…marveling at the splat of blood on his open palm…sometimes licking the blood. Flies always went for windows because they were silly creatures. They thought it was a way out…but if they were around Andrew, it wasn’t. Andrew wasn’t a psychopath although he never felt guilty when he did something that hurt other people. Psychopaths never feel guilt. They just hurt other people and don’t give a damn. Andrew was much sicker than your garden variety psychopath. He had never been professionally diagnosed as a ‘Borderline’…because he appeared to be reasonably sane, but within the darkness of his evil mind…he was just on the edge of being completely mad. That’s what Borderlines are. He had kept his psychological illness well under the radar. He knew there was something very wrong with him, but he wasn’t going to let that be known to anyone who might decide to put him in one of those institutions where they lock your door and give you lots of drugs, and if necessary, a straight jacket. The voices in his head told him to be very careful, or they…the people who hated him… might get hold of him and lock him away in a room that he couldn’t leave.

Andrew had been married once…a long time ago. The unfortunate woman whose name was Veronica, thought that Andrew was completely different to other men that she had met, that she just had to have him…so she snared him with a variety of sexually provocative antics, which he, being a male, fell for. Less than a year into their marriage, Veronica realized that she had made a big mistake. He began to wear her knickers and bras. He masturbated over her shoes. When she complained bitterly, he bashed her. She packed up and went to live with her elderly mother. Andrew attempted to visit her once at her mother’s home but was met at the front door by a very large, angry, Mother in Law armed with an extremely dangerous looking kitchen knife.

Andrew lost his job selling burial plots at Crestwood Cemetery in North Sydney on behalf of Pass in Peace funerals. He was caught interfering with a female deceased person in the make-up room. The matter was never referred to the Police, although it should have been.

Andrew later went to work for a swimming pool maintenance company in Camden, west of Sydney. He started just cleaning filters and vacuuming dirty pools. He learned how to back-wash sand filters and scrub and turbo wash external filters. Later, he was taught how to use electronic equipment to analyze swimming pool water and make the necessary adjustments in order to keep the pool sparkling and healthy.

Then he left Camden. He left Sydney. He left Australia and flew to Nadi in Fiji. He took up residence under a manufactured name, complete with the necessary supporting personal identification documentation. A week after he arrived in Nadi he landed a job with a Fijian Island travel company called Stretch your Senses. This company owned two luxury catamarans, each 75 metres in length and each capable of carrying 10 well heeled passengers and a crew of 10 which didn’t include the Captain and First Officer. Andrew initially worked as a cargo and luggage handler. He was never allowed to sail on either vessel, even for short island hops. The Manager of Stretch your Senses was never too sure about Andy. Something bothered her about this man although the owner of the company, Walter Bridges, had approved his application for employment and no-one in their right mind ever challenged Walter’s decisions. Walter had authorized a 3 month probation period of employment for Andrew, handling luggage and cargo, with the prospect of promotion to ship’s crew after that time, provided he showed loyalty, honesty and a drive for advancement…and perhaps most of all, the ability to keep his mouth shut…no matter what he saw while working around the two catamarans. This was especially important if he ever had contact with passengers boarding and disembarking each vessel.

Both catamarans operated by Stretch your Senses, occasionally conveyed passengers to, and from the health and wellness resort on Volo Levu, as did a few smaller vessels. Andrew was eventually allowed on as catamaran crew. He immediately fell in love with Volo Levu and in particular, Serenity Resort. The people who visited there were…different. Most were not like other people. They seemed to be looking for more from life than those who just lay back in the sun and sipped coconut cocktails and had their legs massaged. He resented their lust for a lifestyle and even a life that went well beyond his own understanding of how to live.

Andrew had been visiting as a crew member on board ‘Solid Gold’, one of the catamarans owned by Stretch your Senses, when it arrived at Volo Levu with passengers being transported on and off the island, when news that a stunning blond woman who was staying by herself at the resort, had vanished. It wasn’t that she was actually missed by all that many people because even though she had a female partner and was on Volo Levu to be married, she was a bit of a recluse. She often didn’t come out of her room for several days at a time, other than to get some take-away food from the kitchen staff. She had no regular time-table for attending meals or resort activities. She was occasionally seen with her ravishingly beautiful partner, hand in hand but otherwise she rarely spoke to anyone.

Some of the crew of Solid Gold assisted with a search for the woman. Andrew was one of the search party, although he elected to search alone. The woman wasn’t found at that time. Her body washed up on the beach around 30 hours after Solid Gold had departed for the mainland…with Andrew on board.

There was one particular like-minded associate that Andrew Boon met up with in Fiji. Both had criminal records in Australia and both were greedy for money. This common interest drew them together in a chance meeting at a night club in Nadi. They kept each other’s mobile phone numbers. The associate was a known violent criminal by the name of David Crane, although that may have not been his real name either.

****

CHAPTER FOUR

‘Bell…slow down,’ said Ben. ‘You’re talking half in English and half in Japanese. You are yelling into the phone. Stop yelling and tell me what has happened.’

‘He’s dying Ben. Akira is almost dead.’

‘Is he actually dead now?’

‘No but he’s almost dead. He won’t look at me and he’s…how do you say…mumbling things in Korean.’

‘He does that from time to time,’ said Ben. ‘Where is he?’

‘In hospital.’

‘Which hospital Bell?’

‘I don’t know. We came in the ambulance.’

‘Is there a doctor or nurse with you now?’

‘Yes…many people. Many young people in white coats and some in green pants who don’t seem to know what is happening.’

‘Let me speak with one of them.’

‘I’ll try Ben.’

‘Yes…hello,’ said a young female voice on the other end of the phone.

‘My name is Ben Hood. I’m a very good family friend of Akira Misaki. Can you tell me where he is and what is wrong with him?’

‘He is in Norwest Private Hospital sir. It was suspected that he had suffered a heart attack. We are investigating.’

‘What is your name and position there?’

‘I am Doctor Rhonda Cheng. I am an intern. I’m doing all I can and have called in a cardiologist.’

‘I’m on my way,’ said Ben. ‘I’ll be there in less than an hour. Perhaps you should give Bell some medication?’

Rhonda laughed softly. ‘Are you a mind reader Mister Hood?’

‘From time to time,’ said Ben.

Bell held Ben’s hands tightly. Tears had dried on the pure white skin of her face. She was cried out. ‘He’s going to die this time,’ she said softly. ‘This time he won’t come back to me.’

‘Rubbish,’ said Ben.

‘Why are you saying…rubbish?’

‘I’m saying he won’t die this time,’ said Ben. ‘He’s too stubborn.’

‘He says that his time might be up,’ said Bell.’

‘I’ll have a chat to him about that.’

‘They won’t let me see him anymore. That means he’s dying…right?’

‘No,’ said Ben.

‘Then why won’t they let me in his room?’

‘You’re upsetting him Bell.’

‘I upset him all the time. It’s never made him die before!’

‘This is different. He’s not dead yet…so I hear.’

‘Then you get in there and tell him that he can’t leave me alone.’

‘Yes…alright. Okay. I’m waiting for clearance to visit him.’

‘You’re his best friend.’

‘That’s not entirely true Bell.

‘He listens to you…even though he thinks you are a crazy man.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Every time he talks about you, he points to his head. Doesn’t that mean he thinks you are crazy?’

‘Perhaps,’ said Ben. ‘Perhaps he’s indicating that he is crazy.’

‘You pull my leg…that is what they say, right?’

‘Yes Bell. I’m pulling your leg.’

It was clear that Akira Misaki had lost some weight. At 5’8" he was usually a very solid man with bulging muscles in his shoulders and arms. Not so now. He was in his late 60’s the last time Ben had seen him and his physical decline was very noticeable. He lay back in the hospital bed with a white sheet drawn up to his waist. He was naked from the waist up. Ben stood at the end of the bed. Akira’s eyes were closed.

‘What do you want?’ asked Akira in a deep, soft voice.

Ben bowed. ‘Ahn nyoung ha seh yoh.’ (Formal greeting in Korean)

‘If you can’t pronounce it the right way, keep it to yourself.’

‘I did my best Aka.’

‘Who told you I was here?’

‘A little fairy.’

Akira opened his eyes. ‘You wouldn’t know a fairy if one slapped you in the face.’

‘Don’t be too sure about that,’ Ben replied.

‘You look like shit,’ said Akira. ‘Are you back on the booze?’

‘Just a red wine here and there…and some whisky to help with gout.’

‘Alcohol causes gout you idiot.’

‘So how come you’re the one in hospital and I’m walking around outside as free