Chapter 1 – Feeling trapped
It was the end of another sunny day in the Caribbean. Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey played with the bright red straw and the little green umbrella sitting on the pineapple piece attached to the cocktail on the table in front of her. Her face was glum, her eyes were cast down.
"Hey, what's up, Camille?" The voice of her colleague, Officer Dwayne Myers, made her raise her head. He was in plainclothes (which meant a colourful shirt in a wild pattern, along with bright green trunks) – it was already close to 7, and work was finished for today.
"You look seriously depressed," he remarked casually, then – turning around – he said "Oh, Catherine – I'll have a beer, if you don't mind! What's the matter with Camille – she looks like she's in the dumps…"
"Oh, don't ask me…" Camille's mother made a dismissive gesture. "She won't tell me. I think it might just be hormones!"
Dwayne chuckled, and Camille finally looked up. "I'm here, if you haven't noticed. I'd appreciate if you stopped talking about me as if I wasn't there," she snapped.
"Oy, someone is in a foul mood," exclaimed Dwayne. Catherine shrugged and said pointedly "I'll get the beer for you, Dwayne. Maybe she'll tell you what's bugging her."
Camille said sarcastically "Fat chance. I'll tell Dwayne so he can tell you. No, thanks! If you need to know, I miss Fidel, and I'm in a foul mood because I'm tired. That's all."
Both her mother and Dwayne knew that this wasn't the entire truth, but they let her get away with it. It seemed pointless to probe deeper when they both knew that Camille was suffering because of other reasons besides the ones she admitted. It was of no use touching that subject, though – Camille reacted waspishly whenever someone indicated she might not have got over what had happened a little over a year ago.
Catherine shook her head in disapprobation, turned around and went to fetch Dwayne's beer.
"I have something on my mind, and I need to mull over it before I can talk about it," Camille explained as soon as her mother had disappeared, "and that's why I'm a bit gloomy. I don't want to talk about it before I have figured it out, so please don't ask me any more. I'll let you know when I'm ready to discuss it. But I'm also gloomy because Fidel is gone – I wonder who will come to replace him. I mean, the Commissioner can't step in forever, and the dynamics of the team will change, depending on what the person who'll come next will be like."
Dwayne nodded and said "That's right. I've served with many folks during my time here in the force, but man, Fidel has been the most dutiful, accurate and friendly officer I've ever worked with. Sometimes his – er - work ethics could be a bit cumbersome – he just wouldn't take things easy… but that's part of who he is. It was a joy to see how he blossomed during the two years we worked with – oh well, you know who. I miss him, too, and I hope he enjoys working with his new team on St. Lucia…"
Catherine had heard Dwayne's last words as she had returned to the table with his beer, and she said pensively "Ah, that's right… I also miss him. I miss Juliet, too, and little Rosie. Such a lovely family! It always was fun to have them here, and I really hope they have found a nice house and adjusted nicely to life on St. Lucia. Juliet surely will get accustomed quickly, she's a happy person, but Fidel might find it a little harder, depending on what the conditions at work will be like. He's a stickler for details, and he needs accuracy and all that. Ah well, he'll manage, I know… Right – I'm coming!" That was directed at another customer at the other end of the bar – she scurried off to take his order.
Left to their own devices, Camille and Dwayne sat in silence for a moment, then Dwayne took up the thread again and asked casually "Where's the Chief?" Camille raised her eyebrows and responded "I don't know, and I don't care. I'm not his nanny, although he seems to think of me that way."
Dwayne chuckled and said with a meaningful voice "We both know that he thinks of you in an entirely different way, don't we?"
Camille's rolled her eyes as she sighed and responded "Right. And this is part of my problem. The thing is, I wouldn't even have noticed if Fidel hadn't given me a hint. I'm grateful he did before he left, although he was hesitant - I have never looked at the Chief that way and couldn't imagine that he'd see anything else but a colleague and a friend in me. And now, I see the signs everywhere, and it's getting overwhelming. I mean, he's nice and all, but… Oh, you know."
Dwayne shot her a sympathetic smile and said "Yeah, I know. And in all fairness, you've never given him any reason to believe that he's more than that. It's the circumstances – his failed marriage, the problems back in the UK, the fact that we're such a close-knit group… he hasn't really made any other friends around here, apart from the team, and he's focusing too much on you. I mean, he's likeable, and he's made it easy for us to get on with him – not like…"
He stopped just in time, realising that Camille would not want to go into that topic. After a moment, he continued "But really, it's getting a bit much sometimes. He seems to expect that we're here for his entertainment, always ready to spend time with him… That's actually why I'm surprised he's not here yet. But maybe he's got other things to do – it would be cool to have an evening without him for a change! Mind you, I'm knackered, anyway. The Commissioner isn't the easiest person to work with – he lets me do all the legwork… Sorry, I know he's family for you, but honestly, Camille – I'll be glad when we get a fresh new officer who'll fit into the team, and with whom you won't have to walk on eggshells, having to wonder how your words come across."
Camille grinned and said "Yes, I know. The Commissioner has done a lot for me, and I owe him my position here in the police force, but I know very well what you mean. He can be a bit 'lordly' at times. But he's got a heart of gold, and you know that's true."
Dwayne nodded and sighed, taking a swig of his cool beer. "You're right, and it's kind of cool that he has decided to step in while we're understaffed. Maybe he'll get a better idea of what actual police work means these days… I mean, it's been quite a while since he's been in active service."
Camille nodded "Yes, that's right. Being Commissioner, making 'political' decisions, having to butter up people and trying to make everything look perfect is a world away from investigating murders and other crimes and offences, writing reports, and doing – as you said – legwork. But if you ask me, I'd always prefer the latter. I'd go crazy if I had to do what he does."
Dwayne took another swig from his bottle and said "Yeah. Would drive me bonkers, too… Oh, look, there's the cute girl I've seen around here a couple of times already. Do you think she'd let me buy her a drink?"
Camille looked over, raised her eyebrows and asked "Isn't she a bit too young for you?" Noticing the look on Dwayne's face, she sighed and said "Oh, go ahead and make a fool of yourself then. I don't care. I'm going home now, anyway. I feel I need an early night – I'm dead for today."
With that she got up, squeezed Dwayne's shoulder for a moment, and left her mother's bar.
The sun was setting as Camille took out the blanket she had brought along and spread it on the sand. She hadn't gone home – she had taken the Rover out to the beach. It was not just any old beach, it was the beach that she used to come to when she needed to think. Over the past year, she had come here rather often, wondering about life, thinking about the past and what it had brought her and asking herself what she wanted for the future.
It was a different beach from the one she had used to go to during the years before. The beach she had usually gone to then was close to what was known as 'the Chief's shack', but she had stopped going there when Detective Inspector Richard Poole had left the island so abruptly. He had been here for a little over two years… And it was nearly 18 months now since he had left. It seemed a lifetime away.
Back then, she had sat at 'his' beach for a number of reasons.
For a while, it had been pure provocation because she had known very well that he had wanted peace and private time, and she had wanted to show him that he was being misanthropic and couldn't shut her – or anybody else – out.
At other times, it had been the quest for comfort and sometimes even advice when she had felt the need to think… and there'd been hope that Richard would spot her on the beach and join her for a chat. Often, she had seen more clearly afterwards, and whatever had bugged her had been put into perspective. Not that conversations with Richard had always been easy or harmonious. They had sometimes bickered quite badly, and they had even shouted at one another. But he had never lied to her or treated her condescendingly. He had a very analytical mind, and in his own warped way, he had given her food for thought.
And – although it was hard to admit – she had felt the desire to just be near him. Knowing that he was only a few steps away from her – that had been helpful and comforting in a strange way.
That beach had witnessed many, many tiffs and arguments, she had stomped off a couple of times, she had sat there on a real wooden chair with him a couple of times – that had been before he had finally given in and sat in the sand, he had hunted her down the beach once when she had changed all the channels on his TV, and they had spent some quiet evenings on his veranda, sitting together and having a drink in companionable silence.
Now, that the shack was inhabited by Richard's successor, Humphrey Goodman, Camille didn't go there all that often any more. When she went there, it was because she had to pick him up or because he had invited her to come for some reason – like when he had recently asked her to watch a horror movie with him (okay, that hadn't been the way he had worded his invitation. He had asked her to come because he had a surprise for her... Good grief, he had annoyed her no end with his comments to the film – couldn't he just let her sit and watch in peace? No surprise he had been bullied by his brothers who surely had been desperate to shut him up and keep him quiet! His craving for attention was so tiresome!). But she didn't show up on his doorstep out on a whim as she had done it with Richard.
By the time he had invited her to watch that film with him, she had already been warned by Fidel that Humphrey had fallen in love with her – or that he thought that this had happened. Fidel had left the team a little while ago, and during the farewell party they had thrown for him and Juliet, he had taken Camille to one side and said "Camille, I have wondered for a while whether or not I should tell you, and I still don't know if I'm doing the right thing, but I have talked about it with Juliet and she said it's better if I had a word with you about… about the Chief."
Camille had laughed and asked good-humouredly "Now, what could that be about, Fidel? That you want me to take good care of him? I'm not his mommy… although he obviously needs someone who keeps him from getting into all sorts of scrapes!"
Oh, how naïve she had been…
Fidel had looked at her very earnestly and replied "No, that's not the point. I want you to know that he's besotted with you, and actually he thinks he's in love with you. For the moment, he seems to believe it's best to keep it to himself, but I'm telling you, he's not going to do that forever. Soon, you might find yourself in the unfortunate position of being the object of his absolute and undivided adoration. I don't think you are aware of the danger – he doesn't see that you don't treat him in any special way. He thinks you have deeper feelings for him as well, and it's only a matter of time until he will confess his love to you – when we both know that he's basically just confused and lonely."
Camille had been flabbergasted – she had never looked at Humphrey like that, and it had seemed so ridiculous that he would think she had taken a shine to him that she had started laughing out loud. But when she had seen the concerned look on Fidel's face, her laughter had broken off abruptly, and she had asked anxiously "You aren't serious, are you?"
She had known his answer before he had opened his mouth. "Good grief," she had said, aghast, "I didn't realise this. Is it that bad, really?" Fidel had nodded quietly, touched Camille's arm and said insistently "Be careful, Camille. He's bottling it all up, and he's about to burst. If you're not careful, you'll be sorry. I know you're ready to defend yourself and can rebuff a guy, if necessary, but he's going to make it all awkward later on by apologising over and over and – oh, you know what he's like!"
Yes, she knew what Humphrey was like… She had glanced over to him, as he had been standing there, trying to explain something to Juliet. When he had seen her looking at him, he had winked and smiled – and she had pretended that she hadn't noticed and looked away quickly.
It had curdled her stomach to think of the mess that would come out of any kind of confession that Humphrey could make… No, she had to do her best to avoid a situation like that.
That night, she had come to this beach after Fidel's and Juliet's farewell party, and she had finally found the courage to face what had been bugging her for a while already… the fact that she was feeling trapped on Saint Marie. When she had moved here and become a member of the local police team, she had found it challenging to re-adjust to regular police work – after several years of undercover work, the mere thought of doing 'normal' work again had been crippling.
And Richard hadn't made it easy for her – it had taken her a while to realise that it hadn't been personal, he hadn't made it easy for anyone, including himself. It had taken them a while to grow together as a team, but they had successfully solved a number of difficult cases, and after some time, she had realised that working with him had made her a better detective. They had complemented each other, and they had shared an unlikely and rather awkward friendship…
A friendship that she would have loved to take further… but it had never happened.
When she had reached this point in her memories, Camille sighed, stretched out on the blanket and stared into the sky – wondering for a moment what he might be doing now.
She still remembered how they had bickered over her refusing to call him 'Chief' after they had solved the case of the killing of Polly Carter, the former super model. Oh, he had been so childish about this! As if it was necessary to address him with whatever kind of title to acknowledge his position… To her, he was so much more than a title. She wasn't into using these formal addresses, anyway. A title made the respective people behind them exchangeable, that was how she saw it. So, she preferred other forms of address for people she cared about and respected.
As she saw it, the address 'Commissioner' was an official title that she used for Selwyn Patterson when she encountered him on official ground, it described his function. But in private, she called him 'Uncle Selwyn' – and that was who he really was to her.
She would have used 'Richard', but she hadn't dared to call him by his first name – right, a few times, in exceptional situations she had done it – she remembered he had fainted in the office once, and she had called him 'Richard' when she had tried to bring him back to consciousness. There had been a few other occasions, but somehow, he hadn't encouraged this – and so she had ended up calling him 'sir'… that was different from the more official 'Inspector' - that the Commissioner used – and also different from the casual 'Chief' that Dwayne and Fidel used. Using 'sir' made him stand out to her. He had seen it differently – not that he had given her a chance to explain, he had just childishly insisted on her to use 'Chief' – which she had defiantly refused to do. Not by saying so openly, but by simply not using it.
How silly they had been… She still wondered how his apparently relatively normal parents could have ended up with a son like him - an apparently starchy, self-centred, pedantic, childish moron who was brilliant at his job, but a complete waste of space when it came to social skills.
And still… never before and never again had a man fascinated her like this.
For a moment, Camille closed her eyes and remembered how he had tried to comfort and support her after Aimee's death. How he had given her orchids to show his sympathy… How he had held her hands for a moment.
She also recalled how he had sat on the patio when her mother had asked her to go and greet her blind date, and she had thought it was him… how her heart had jumped with surprise and joy…
And she smiled at the memory of the night in the weather lab… how he had lectured her about the case before he had finally opened up a little and talked about his parents, the seaside holidays of his childhood and other memories.
She had asked him if he was like his father… and he had said that he didn't think so… The truth was that he was very much like his father in some key respects, but he was totally different in others. He also shared quite a few traits with his mother – who had been very uptight when she had first arrived on Saint Marie, but then loosened up and turned out to be a really nice lady. Richard was a fusspot, like she had apparently been most of her life.
Now that Camille had met his parents, she could see where some of his idiosyncrasies came from. And the upbringing in a single sex boarding school surely hadn't helped… He had learnt to hide behind a uniform, a mask of professionalism, an air of 'I don't care'… when in fact, he did care a lot about some things and some people.
Well, it was all pointless. Those times were gone, they had both moved on, and she had to deal with different issues and problems now… The most pressing one at the moment was surely what she wanted to do with her life now. She realised she couldn't really continue working with the Chief… or with Humphrey or whatever she called him. Even the notion 'sir' didn't mean anything special to her any more, so she used it for him as well…
Realising that she couldn't go on working with him consequently meant she couldn't stay on Saint Marie. Where else could she go? And what line of work would she want to pursue?
What kind of future would she want to build for herself?