Excerpt from A Disappearance in Fiji by Nilima Rao, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"I cannot believe we have all started calling this bugger the 'Night Prowler.' Bloody Fiji Times and their stupid names," Akal grumbled.

"What would you rather call him? He prowls around at night. Seems like a good name to me," Taviti responded with a shrug.

"Whatever we call him, I need to find him, or I will never get a decent case again."

"What do you mean, 'again'?" Taviti said, cocking his head at Akal quizzically. "You have not had a decent case since you got here. The inspector-general hated you on sight."

"So, who was our wonderful Night Prowler bothering this time?" Akal said, focusing on his shoes and not making eye contact with Taviti. He had managed thus far to avoid explaining to Taviti the reasons he was in disfavour with the inspector-general, and he hoped to keep it that way, though Taviti almost certainly had an inkling of the truth. Everyone in the colony talked to Taviti. "Too much to ask that they got a look at him, I suppose?"

"No, usual story. It was the Wishbournes up on Knolly Street, you know, with the two daughters. Eleven o'clock. Mr. Wishbourne was at the governor's party. The Night Prowler was naked at the youngest girl's window. She woke up and saw him, started screaming, and he bolted. By the time the mother arrived, all she saw was his behind bouncing down the hill. But she definitely could tell it was a black behind."

"Could she tell what kind of black?"

"My kind, not your kind. A good round Fijian behind, not one of your scrawny Indian arses." Taviti flashed his teeth, each roughly the size of a small shovelhead. Akal was always astounded that Taviti managed to talk around all those teeth and mourned the day he would start losing them, as seemed to be the fate of all the older Fijian men. "I'm off to Knolly Street, then. Maybe he will have left us a clue this time. His calling card, perhaps?" Akal looked up with a grin for Taviti, then jumped to his feet when he saw the inspector-general glowering at him from the door to the back rooms of the station.

"Singh. My office." The inspector-general didn't wait for a response and disappeared back down the corridor, his footsteps echoing through the room. Akal hurried to follow him.

"What did you do now?" Taviti asked.

Akal shrugged and muttered as he passed Taviti: "I'm still breathing. I think that might be enough."


AKAL APPROACHED THE door to the inspector-general's office with some trepidation. He had been in this office only once before, when he had first arrived to the colony. As soon as he had walked in, it had become apparent to Akal just how far he had fallen. The concrete room with its grimy louvres was a hovel compared to his previous commander's office in Hong Kong, which had been all high ceilings and polished wood. He had spent countless hours in that elegant space, consulting with his commander as his star rapidly rose with the British administration in Hong Kong. In his first meeting with Thurstrom, it had been made crystal clear that he would not enjoy that same elevated status here.

The reception desk outside the inspector-general's office, which had been full of neatly piled stacks of paperwork on his last visit, was now bare. This had been the desk of Sub- Inspector Marks, who had left the colony a couple of months ago, causing much consternation. Against the wishes of the colonial administration, the young inspector had managed to secure a commission to serve in the war being waged in Europe, leaving Suva without a European sub-inspector and the inspector-general without his right-hand man.

Akal knocked on the open door of the inspectorgeneral's office. Without looking up, the inspector-general waved him in.

Inspector-General Jonathon Thurstrom, head of the police force for the fledgling colony, was seated behind his large desk, which was littered with papers, as was every chair. He was an imposing man, tall and robust with a shock of greying red hair that illuminated the dim room. Akal stood to attention before the desk.

Excerpted from A Disappearance in Fiji by Nilima Rao. Copyright © 2023 by Nilima Rao. Excerpted by permission of Soho Crime. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.