I didn't have to pretend, though, because despite all the drama, I was out like a light and came to only briefly when Moira came in. "Did you have fun?" I managed to say. I believe she said yes and something to the effect that Rory was a lovely guy and they'd gone for a walk together.
I awoke again in the middle of the night and lay there for what seemed to be an eternity, unable to sleep, listening to Moira's breathing. I couldn't see my watch, but there was a crack in the curtains on the sliding door that led out to a tiny patio outside our room, and through it I could see the moon, a slim crescent. The wind had picked up, and something was banging outside. It was one of those sounds, a creak and then a thunk at irregular intervals, that gets under your skin.
As quietly as I could, I pulled my jeans and a sweater on over my nightgown, then slid into my sandals. Moira murmured in her sleep, but didn't wake, as I carefully pried open the door wide enough to slip out.
It was absolutely beautiful outside, warm and windy. The dark sky was filled with more stars than I had ever seen in my life, testament to the remoteness of the island, and for a few minutes I stood, head back, looking at them. I could see the outline of the cliff behind the hotel. Somewhere I heard a horse neigh, and there was a shuffling sound nearby, an animal perhaps, rooting about.
The banging was coming from something a few yards away, near the dining room, so I walked quietly toward it. The lights of the hotel had been dimmed, but there was a slight glow from inside.
It didn't take long to find the source of the sound. It was the gate near the edge of the cliff and Felipe Tepano's pile of dirt. Perhaps the wind had loosened the catch. I can remember having only two coherent thoughts as I reached over to close it. One was that Felipe Tepano was right. The second was that Dave Maddox wasn't going to make it to his perfectly timed session later that day.
4
ANA KAI TANGATA—"Trampled by a horse?!" Moira said. Her tone was skeptical, something for which I could hardly blame her.
"That's what they're saying," I replied. "They" were the people charged with the responsibility of enforcing the law on Rapa Nui, the Carabineros de Chile, and it was in their headquarters on a dirt road out by the airport that I found myself.
"I don't believe it!" Moira said.
"I did hear a horse," I said. "And we might have been trampled ourselves, if you will recall, when we were out at the ahu near the cemetery. More to the point, however, the police say there are all kinds of hoof prints around where I found him."
"Horses are a big problem here," Rory said. He and Moira had come to lend their support, which was nice of them. I noticed they were holding hands. "There are way too many of them. They're everywhere. A lot of them are wild, or at least semi-wild. You could get rid of half the horses on the island and there would still be too many."
"They say he may have tried riding the horse. One of his shoes was found several yards away," I said.
"He decided to go riding in the middle of the night?"
"It wasn't exactly the middle of the night," I said. "It was dark, but it was close to six."
"Rapa Nui is on entirely artificial time," Rory said. "Because it belongs to Chile, even though it is 2,400 miles out from Santiago, the island tries to stay close to Chile time here. It's way darker than it should be in the morning and stays light well into the evening."
"He must have been drunk as a skunk," Moira said.
"He was well on his way when I last saw him," Rory said. "He purchased a bottle of pisco in the bar and was heading off to his room. Notice I said a bottle, not a glass."
"He said he was taking it home to the States with him," Moira said. "But I suppose that is what people who are trying to hide their drinking say. Perhaps he had a problem."
"I don't know, but would he drink so much that he'd go out and try to ride a horse in the dark?" I said. "His paper was supposed to be today, and he was so excited about it. He was nervous, yes, but despite that I am certain he had every intention of showing up. You think he'd stay sober long enough to deliver it."
"Maybe he just wasn't used to pisco," Rory said. "It's very pleasant to drink with a little whipped egg white and lime juice in a pisco sour, but it is distilled liquor and can be pretty lethal if you drink it straight."
"You are free to go now," a not unpleasant police officer by the name of Pablo Fuentes said. "We thank you, Senora, for helping us with the investigation. It all seems very straightforward. I will have someone drive you back to your hotel."
"I'll do that," Rory said. I was grateful for the ride. I was tired after a couple of hours conversing only in Spanish, which I hadn't used much for a year or two, and three rather wild- and ferocious-looking dogs evidently considered the road just outside the headquarters of the carabineros their personal turf.
When we got back to the hotel, Moira approached with a glass of water in one hand and a pill in the other. "Sleep," she said. "I got these after my operation. You will be out for about six hours, and you will feel better."
For some reason, I am uncomfortable with sleeping pills. I knew Moira took them. I'd seen her do so on more than one occasion since we'd set off together on this trip. I don't like the way I feel when I wake up, I don't like the dreams I have when I'm out, and I have a rather irrational fear of something bad happening while I sleep. Given a choice between that and spending six hours thinking about the pulp that was once the left side of Dave Maddox's face, however, I opted for the pill.
Soon I was dreaming away, unfortunately about horses. There were horses in my house, in the shop, in the backyard. They were everywhere. At some point, they galloped into a row, and I realized I was watching the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Leading the group, to my surprise, was Rob. He was in dress uniform, red jacket and all, and he looked, I must say, rather fetching.
Now, it is true Rob is a Mountie. I suppose he must know how to ride a horse. I, however, in all the years I've known him, have never seen him do it.
In any event, Rob rode right up to where I stood, and towering over me from the vantage point of the saddle, said, "Remember what I told you about horses." He then rode off to join the others. The ranks divided as they came up to me, swung around on either side, and in a moment or two they were gone. It was then that I woke up.
"Good, you're awake," Moira said. "I've brought you something to eat. Then you're going to have a shower and get dressed. You have forty-five minutes until Jasper Robinson begins to speak."
Stickler for the social niceties that I am, I would have thought that the trampling death of a delegate to a conference as small as this would have brought the proceedings to a halt, at least for a day. But I had forgotten that this wasn't a real conference, at least not as far as Gordon Fairweather was concerned, and it was the documentary that was driving it. The show, as they say, must go on.
I knew I'd had some weird dreams, and I had a feeling there was something I was supposed to remember, but whatever it was, it was gone. I felt groggy and stupid, and I didn't want to go anywhere, but Moira was insistent. I knew she was right, but it all seemed way too difficult.
The meeting room was full when we got there, with standing room only at the back. For a minute I thought maybe I could crawl back into bed, but Rory had saved us seats. Moira sat beside Rory, and I was seated between Gordon Fairweather, who had evidently decided to attend, and Seth Connelly, the rongorongo expert. Albert Morris, Lewis and Judith Hood, Edwina, Enrique, and Yvonne sat immediately behind us. I hoped Gordon wouldn't start yelling during Robinson's talk, because I'd had more than enough drama for one day and my head was starting to hurt. There was a spot just over my left eye that was throbbing, and as the camera with its accompanying spotlight swept the crowd, I had to cover my eyes. I was also feeling slightly claustrophobic in the middle of the row. There was a larger meeting room in another building, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why they wouldn't have used it. Silly me. Clearly I would never have a career in publicity and public relations, because when I mentioned it to Moira she pointed out that they wanted the room to look really crowded for the cameras.