Death Off Camera, page 3
‘The Champion set is not an elementary school playground, you know. Our contestants compete in several areas: physical, mental, social. Ability to survive in a tough natural environment is crucial. They’re eager to demonstrate that ability—it’s what they’ve signed on for. And naturally, they’ve agreed to waive any rights to sue the company on the basis of conditions on the set during the contest.’
‘Tell us about Ken Johnson, if you would, Mr Duke.’
‘Please call me Steve. What can I say? Ken’s the archetypal athlete—that’s the role he filled on the show. His application was very strong. The selection panel had no hesitation calling him to audition in Los Angeles.’
‘Who’s on the selection panel?’ Singh asked.
‘The casting director and her assistant, a screenwriter, and my executive producer. They cull the applications and draw up an audition list. I don’t know how they do it—we get mountains of applications every year from the moment we post a callout on our website.’
‘Are you involved in choosing the cast at all?’
‘Sure, I attend all the auditions—that’s the next step. It goes the same way every year, but I’m always surprised how the successful guys stand out from the others. The selectors rarely disagree. And Ken Johnson stood out as a Champion contender more than most.’
‘In what way?’
‘Athletic, practical skills, could think on his feet. Leadership potential, although that’s the least predictable of the abilities we’re looking for. Handsome and a rare natural flair talking to camera. He had nil performance experience, but he shone in his screen test. I think that was because of his sincerity.’ The director stared at his empty notepad. ‘I’m sorry, it’s still hard to accept he’s dead.’
‘Did you notice any weaknesses in him after production began?’ Horseman asked.
‘Not physically, not at all. But he was genuinely nice, a bit naïve. That can be a weakness on Champion, where we encourage secret cliques and shifting alliances. Plotting was totally foreign to Ken. He didn’t understand it.’
‘Neither do I. What do you mean by plotting?’
Duke looked astonished. ‘You’re serious?’ He looked at Singh who smiled in encouragement.
‘Well, I mean players sounding out others and agreeing to help each other. Specifically, agreeing not to vote each other out of the game. They also may agree to campaign against another player, to get him or her kicked out.’
‘So it’s not about the competition we saw you filming this morning?’
‘Sure it is. But, er, diplomatic abilities are also essential.’
‘You mean conspiracy and deception?’
Duke smiled. ‘Sure, and betrayal too. The lot. You’re getting the hang of it, Inspector Horseman. It’s all about exciting the viewers, getting them to take sides, follow their heroes. The fans love it. But that side of the game wasn’t Ken’s strength at all.’
‘He made it to the finals, though.’
‘He did indeed.’ Duke leaned forward. ‘He was valuable to his tribe until now because he could reliably win the physical challenges and the prizes of food and tools for his team.’
‘I can hear a but coming.’
Duke nodded. ‘But I’ve observed through the seasons that players like Ken lose their popularity in the finals when the competition is between individuals. Their physical prowess becomes a threat to the survival of the weaker players who may conspire to vote them out. Unless the athletes are also skilled tacticians, of course.’
‘Did that happen to Ken?’
‘I don’t know. We’ll be filming some talking heads at Motu tomorrow. That’s when we get players to voice their feelings and consider tactics to stay in the game. But no one will criticise Ken now.’
‘I suppose not. Had anyone tried to vote him out already?’
‘Sure, whenever there was a vote, players in the other tribe would try to get rid of Ken. But they weren’t united, so it didn’t happen. Ken often won immunity from the vote by scoring highest on challenges, too. That’s one way we keep the strongest contestants in longer.’
‘Did he have any particular enemies?’
‘Again, I don’t know.’
‘Out of the finalists, who wasn’t on Ken’s team from the beginning?’
‘Er…Desi and Bobby. I haven’t noticed any particular antagonism to Ken from either of them.’
‘Why would Ken have climbed to the top of the spirit-house steps while the others were still asleep?’
The director spread his hands. ‘I doubt we’ll ever know. An early morning walk to enjoy the sunrise?’
‘Barbara Koroi, your nurse, tells me she got a call on the emergency radio around six o’clock.’
‘Yep, the players may only use the radio link to Barbara when someone is seriously ill or injured. Emergency radio is a necessary precaution, but it’s the first time it’s been used this season.’
‘Barbara reported that Desirée Lopez made the call. When she got to the island, she found out that Mili Kepa had found Ken at the foot of the temple mound. Can you add anything here?’
‘No, I wasn’t there. Barbara advised it would be risky for Ken to wait for an ambulance as he had a head injury. So she accompanied him to hospital in one of our vehicles. I never dreamed he could die but Barbara was aware his injury might be serious.’
No one spoke for a few moments.
‘How long are your investigators going to be on Motu? The players need to get back to their camp.’
Horseman decided the director was still in shock and he would be sympathetic. ‘Certainly not today, Mr Duke. Perhaps not tomorrow, either. The death of a fit young man demands a thorough investigation, don’t you think?’
‘Well yes, but Ken died of a freak head injury when he fell.’
‘No one saw him fall, so until the pathologist completes his report, we’ll keep an open mind about the cause of Ken’s death.’
‘Mr Duke, how is it possible to continue with Champion when one of the finalists has died?’ Singh asked.
The director blinked several times. ‘We went ahead with the challenge this morning before we got the news about Ken. It’s tricky. I’ve got an internet meeting with the producers in LA this afternoon to thrash out a solution. I mean, most of the show’s already in the can. What a waste!’ He shook his head and stared at the detectives.
5
‘Did he mean a waste of money, a waste of time or a waste of a young life?’ Horseman asked as they walked around the verandah to the office Deepika had found for the police.
‘Not sure, sir,’ Singh replied.
Horseman sighed. ‘No need to be so diplomatic with me, Susie. Now, let’s see if we can talk to all four finalists this afternoon, before your meeting with the staff.’
‘That should be feasible. They know we want to question them. They should be in the rec hall. I’m afraid there was no way to stop them talking to each other in the meantime.’
Singh radioed Musudroka and asked him to bring Mili Kepa to their office. Within a few minutes, the flustered detective constable was back. The young woman he ushered in was short and curvaceous, but she moved with considerable poise. Her cropped crinkly hair made her eyes huge. She initiated handshakes and introductions with the detectives. Star-struck Musudroka melted away.
‘Take a seat, Ms Kepa.’ Singh said, indicating one of the plastic chairs. ‘I’m so sorry about the loss of your colleague. However, it’s wonderful to meet you. You’re the pride of the nation. Fiji’s first Champion contestant!’
‘Please call me Mili. I’m sure Inspector Horseman would easily beat me in any Fijian popularity vote.’ Her voice was low, with a soft American accent.
‘Did you get to know Ken Johnson well, Ms Kepa?’ Horseman asked. He hoped Singh would tone down her enthusiasm.
Tears welled in Mili’s eyes. ‘Yes, quite well. We were in the same tribe from the beginning, so we both worked on our camp, getting food and cooking. The entire tribe lived together as well as competing in the challenges together.’
‘That must be stressful at times,’ Singh said.
‘Oi lei! Extremely stressful! But we all knew we had to make a success of it, or we’d have no chance. Everyone had done their homework and watched all the previous Champion series.’
‘As a Fijian you must have been quite an asset to your team,’ Horseman said.
Mili looked down modestly. ‘Maybe a bit. I’ve lived in the States since I was twelve, but I remembered how to forage for shellfish at low tide and how to fish. I taught the others. I couldn’t build a shelter or beds, but I knew how and what trees to use. Ken was strong and good with his hands. I could tell him what to do. We made a good team.’
She looked up and her eyes welled with tears.
‘What else can you tell us about Ken?’
‘He was a nice guy, a southern gentleman. He was from Tennessee and spoke with such a southern drawl. I enjoyed listening to his accent—so musical. He liked looking after all of us in the team—being a provider. The look on his face when he’d caught a decent-sized fish—he was prouder of that than his athletic feats. Most of our wins on challenges were due to him.’
‘What were his plans?’
‘Of course, to win Champion and the million dollars! His parents weren’t wealthy, and he wanted to help his little sisters. It seems he was on a football scholarship to his state university and wanted to go professional. But he was realistic about his chances for the national league. He thought if he won Champion, he might get a job as a television sports reporter or something like that.’
‘Sounds like you knew him pretty well, then.’
Mili nodded. ‘When our jobs are done, there’s nothing else to do in camp but talk.’ She smiled. ‘But we’re so tired we go to sleep very early. I do anyway.’
‘Why did Ken go up to the spirit-house platform yesterday morning?’
Mili shook her head. ‘I wish I knew. I wish I could help you. But I can’t.’ A tear overflowed and ran down her cheek.
‘I suppose you go up there yourself, sometimes?’ Singh asked.
‘Only when the script calls for me to. I’ve got this hangover from childhood when my brothers and cousins spooked me with horror stories about the old times. There was a ruined mound in my grandmother’s village. It was around a metre high—all the stones were recycled. But their nonsense about the priest drinking blood from sacrifices and so on terrified me.’ She raised her hands, looking helpless.
‘You mentioned a script, Mili. I thought Champion was a reality show.’
Mili smiled. ‘It is, but the scene and shot sequences have to be planned out or the camera crew couldn’t operate efficiently. When I say the script, it’s really the storyboard. That specifies where each scene is, who’s involved and so on. For example, it could be an early morning sequence of a player climbing up to the platform, opening the skull box to check for any special commands. If that player was me, I must do my job. I’m a trained performer, so I don’t have a problem with that. But I don’t go up there to enjoy the view in my free time.’
Horseman scribbled a note to check the storyboard with whoever was responsible.
‘Did you ever go up the mound with Ken?’
Mili frowned. ‘Yes, just once I think. The direction was to go up, open up the skull box, read out the command and discuss it between the two of us.’
‘What was the command?’ Singh asked.
‘I can’t really remember. It was at least two weeks ago.’
‘Is it possible Ken was acting on direction?’
‘No, not at all. Where was the camera crew? Anyway, they can’t film on Motu after sunset. He must have gone up there on his own, maybe just taking a walk.’ Mili replied.
‘What do you think happened, Mili? Or might have happened?’ Singh asked.
‘If he was on his own, he may have slipped or tripped on the steps in the dark. If he wasn’t alone, maybe the same thing. And who else could he have met but another player? We’re alone on the island every night.’
‘What’s your morning routine on Motu, Mili?’ Singh asked.
‘The camp’s in deep shade, but there’s always someone who wakes with the light and feels hungry. The first up starts a fire and boils water for tea. If it’s me, I eat some fruit--there’re papaya trees not far away and we usually have a bunch of bananas in the camp. I make sure I leave fruit for the others and then go fishing. One way or another, we all wake up and have something to eat.’
‘Is there filming every day? How does that work?’
‘Most days, but every day’s program is different. Sometimes the crew comes over early to do some takes on Motu, other times Zak brings us all back to the arena first thing for a challenge. At the end of the day’s work, we get the program for the next day.’
‘That sounds tough.’
‘True. But it was fun until today.’ She looked at the detectives, wide-eyed, as if surprised by a sudden thought. ‘What will happen to the show now? What will happen to us?’
‘We don’t know, Mili. I understand Mr Duke will be talking with the producers in LA this afternoon,’ Horseman replied.
Mili gazed at him, full of doubt, as if he knew the answer but was withholding it from her.
6
Desirée Lopez paused in the office doorway as if she’d stepped into a spotlight. She was the physical opposite of Mili Kepa: tall and thin, with full breasts which she thrust forward while she posed. She propped one elegant arm on a hip and pouted. The top of a hip bone jutted above the loose waistband of her artfully torn shorts. Horseman wondered how much weight she’d lost in a month of hunter-gatherer lifestyle. He also wondered about Botox and breast implants, but he didn’t understand these things. He’d ask Singh later.
Horseman stood. ‘Take a seat, Ms Lopez. Thanks for being punctual.’
‘Desi, please, Inspector.’ She glanced at the smiling Singh then returned her gaze to Horseman while folding her long legs beneath the table. She flicked her platinum blonde hair back over one shoulder. Her flawless olive skin surely had the help of make-up. He’d been told contestants were forbidden personal beauty products, except the company-provided 50-plus sunscreen lotion. It looked like Lopez had found a way around the ban.
‘What can I do to help?’ Her voice was soft and feminine like her skin.
‘I’m told you’ve already helped a great deal, Desi. You used the emergency radio to alert the Champion nurse, didn’t you?’
Desi bent her head modestly, exposing a centimetre of jet-black hair roots. ‘I did, yes. Mili woke me up, yelling at me to come with her to help Ken. She was in a panic. She said he’d fallen onto the rocks below the old spirit-house. Unconscious, she said. I remembered our emergency briefing and decided to radio Barbara before going to Ken.’
‘You did the right thing.’
‘So Barbara said. When she arrived, we all helped get him on the stretcher and into the boat. He was breathing, but kinda ragged. How did he die? None of us understands.’
‘No one understands that yet, Desi. The hospital in Suva has an excellent pathologist. He’s examining Ken now, but we won’t have an answer for you until he completes a range of tests and finalises his report.’
‘I’m glad you have an excellent pathologist. But what Ken needed was doctors that could save his life. Don’t you have that kind of doctor in Fiji? I mean, a competent one!’
Horseman ignored the barb.
‘Were you on the same team as Ken from the beginning of the contest?’
‘No, we were opponents. I only moved to the beach camp a few days ago when I became a finalist. You know, we expected the winner to be chosen on Thursday or Friday. Just a few more days to go—and now what’s going to happen? Are you going to call it off?’ Her beautiful brown eyes were hard.
‘The show executives will decide that.’
Singh smiled in sympathy. ‘Tell me, Desi, why did you want to be on Champion?’
‘You’re kidding! To win a million dollars! I’ve grown up with disadvantage all the way as Latino in California. My dad just wants to marry me off, my teachers never expected anything of me, so I didn’t do great in school. My mom slaves as a maid and says I should be grateful. But they can’t keep me down. I want a career in Hollywood and a win on Champion will be the launch I need.’
‘How well did you know Ken?’
‘Not well. Athletic, works hard at the challenges and in the camp. I don’t wish to speak ill and all that, but he came across as pretty boring. You know, the classic blue-eyed all-American boy with nothing between the ears.’ She smiled and lowered her voice. ‘He’s a racist, too.’
‘Why do you think that?’
Desi brightened. ‘Come on, you must know! He’s a southern white boy—they’re all racists. The way he treats—treated—Mili! He was so controlling. I could see that after my first day at the beach camp. He tried to be the big boss man, make all the decisions. That’s racist.’
Desi’s definition of racist was a new one for Horseman. Singh shot him a warning glance, so he let it go.
‘Did you have a plan to win the contest?’
‘I sure did, although it’s none of your business. I picked Ken as just the sort of player the TV executives want to win, so I decided early on to forge alliances against him and vote against him in every elimination trial. And hey! I made the final, so it worked.’
‘Ken made the final, too.’
‘Yes, he did, but I don’t think he’d have won. As well as boring and racist, he was kinda dumb. He didn’t understand strategy.’
‘Would you call yourself an enemy of Ken?’
‘As far as Champion goes, yes. But—hang on, where are you going with this?’ She straightened her back and glared at the detectives. ‘You reckon I pushed him down the steps? You accusing me of murder?’
‘Not at all, Desi. From what you said against Ken, I’m wondering how strong your dislike was.’
‘We were opponents in the game. I wanted to defeat him. Nothing personal.’
