Death on Dangar Island

Sunday Night

Israel watched Dorothy closely as she squinted at the photo. She looked away for a moment and took another swill of wine. ‘You know, I have seen that girl around here before. I recognise that weird piece of shrapnel stuck in her bottom lip. She was always going round to Megan’s.’ She spat the woman’s name more than spoke it. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if Megan couldn’t tell you more about her,’ she added slyly.

Israel and Gary exchanged complicit glances.

‘Yeah … I always got the feeling there was something unusual about such a young girl paying social visits to someone like her.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Israel.

‘Megan’s a stuck-up cow. She doesn’t like the company of us commoners. I only saw this girl at her place a couple of times myself, but I bet other people saw her coming and going.’

‘Other people from the island, you mean?’

‘Yeah. There’s only a few of us who are on the island all the time. The other houses belong to people who work in town, or they’re holiday rentals like yours. The rest of us get to know each other pretty well.’

‘You seem to know so much about the people here on the island, Dorothy. Apart from Sam and Megan, who else do you know that lives here permanently?’

‘Well, let’s see. There’s Jon Morris, the retired merchant banker. He owns the house the party was held in last night as well as a couple of other places here. He’s got a thing about owning real estate on the island. Wants to own the whole damn place, I reckon. He’s not my favourite person, if I’m honest.’

Gary shifted in his seat and turned his head to look down the beach. ‘Which one is his? It must be nice if he’s got a lot of dosh.’

‘Oh, it’s nice all right, but it’s not on the beach. He lives in a house built up high on the other side of the island. Got one of them real fancy swimming pools that overflow and that, or so I’m told. I haven’t been there myself, but they say it’s pretty swish.’

‘How fascinating. You really do know so much about what goes on around here. Tell me, what is it about Mr Morris that makes you dislike him?’

‘Well, he’s after my place, you know.’ She waved her hand about her with a gesture of unmistakable pride. ‘He’s a wolf when it comes to property. The house those kids were tearing up last night is called Deep Water. Beautiful position, right on the point. My old friend Marty owned it for years, but he got a bit overenthusiastic, investing just before the crap hit the fan in ‘08. Talk was that Jon went over there and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse – no agent’s fees or nothing. Did I mention he used to be a merchant banker? Anyway, he’s been around here a few times now, asking about how I’m going financially. It’s no secret he wants a house right on the beach. Just between you and me, he’s already made me an offer.’

Israel frowned. ‘But you have rejected this offer?’

‘Of course I bloody rejected it!’ she replied shrilly. ‘I love living here! It’s paradise.’ She threw her arm out in a dramatic gesture that took in the battered old balcony and its plastic furniture.

Israel smiled. ‘Yes, very sensible. What about the other local people?’

‘Well there’s James and Frankie who own the shop, and Mitchell who runs the bowling club, and Megan of course …’

Her voice drifted off wistfully. ‘Let me see that again.’ She indicated for Israel to show her the image on his phone. ‘She was real pretty, even beautiful you could say, but she ruined it with all that thick makeup and those piercings … shame really.’