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About
It's not easy being Ben Kella. As a sergeant in the Solomon Islands Police Force, as well as an aofia, a hereditary spiritual peacekeeper of the Lau people, he is viewed with distrust by both the indigenous islanders and the British colonial authorities. In the past few days he has been cursed by a magic man, stumbled across evidence of a cargo cult uprising, and failed to find an American anthropologist who had been scouring the mountains for a priceless pornographic icon. Then, at a mission station, Kella discovers an independent and rebellious young American nun, Sister Conchita, secretly trying to bury a skeleton. The unlikely pair of Kella and Conchita are forced to team up to solve a series of murders that tie into all these other strange goingson. Set in the 60's in one of the most beautiful and dangerous areas of the South Pacific, Devil-Devil launches an exciting new series.
"Truly fabulous ... Sister Conchita and Kella are already committed to a sequel. This is a series, and a writer, to watch."-Toronto Globe and Mail
"Kent, a prolific author of fiction and nonfiction, fills Devil-Devil with a sparkling plot (complete with an unexpected conclusion) and a rich history of the Solomons and their native people. But it's Kella and Conchita-and Kent's wit-that makes this unusual mystery work, and readers will eagerly await the next installment."-Richmond Times-Dispatch
"Kent's first mystery is the beginning of a new and promising series.... The atmosphere and setting are integral to both character and plot and lend a unique note to this solid mystery. Definitely a series to watch."-Booklist For eight years, Graeme Kent was Head of BBC Schools broadcasting in the Solomon Islands. Prior to that he taught in six primary schools in the UK and was headmaster of one. Currently, he is Educational Broadcasting Consultant for the South Pacific Commission. 1
THE GLORY SHELL
Sister Conchita clung to the sides of the small dugout canoe as
the waves pounded over the frail vessel, soaking its two
occupants. In front of her the Malaitan scooped his paddle into
the water, trying to keep the craft on an even balance. Sister
Conchita could see the coastal village a hundred yards away. The
beach was crowded with islanders. She wondered whether it had
been worth the perilous sea journey just to see the shark-calling
ceremony when all she wanted was a shower and a meal. Of
course it was, she told herself severely. If she intended serving
God in the Solomons then she had to get to know everything
about the islands.
The half-naked islander in front of her suddenly gave a scream
of terror. Turning, he thrust the paddle into the sister's hands and
dived over the side of the canoe, disappearing into the frothing
white foam. Sister Conchita sat rigid with apprehension, the
pitted wooden blade clutched loosely in her hands. Bereft of
the islander's control, the canoe started pitching and swinging
wildly.
For a moment all that Sister Conchita wanted to do was to
cower helplessly in the bucking wooden frame. Then her
customary resourcefulness took over. Snap out of it, she thought
grimly. You got yourself into this hole, better get out of it the
1
same way, girl. Muttering a fervent prayer, she tightened her
grip on the paddle and thrust it with all her force into the water.
For the next five minutes the wiry young sister fought the sea.
The momentum of the current was sending her at breakneck
speed in the direction of the beach and the watching islanders,
but the waves were crashing over the canoe at an angle, buffeting
it from side to side. Several times the entire tree shell was
submerged beneath the surface, but on each occasion it surfaced
sufficiently for the sodden nun, coughing and gasping, to resume
her paddling.
Doggedly she kept the prow of the canoe pointing at the
beach. After an apparent eternity of choking, muscle-aching
effor
"Truly fabulous ... Sister Conchita and Kella are already committed to a sequel. This is a series, and a writer, to watch."-Toronto Globe and Mail
"Kent, a prolific author of fiction and nonfiction, fills Devil-Devil with a sparkling plot (complete with an unexpected conclusion) and a rich history of the Solomons and their native people. But it's Kella and Conchita-and Kent's wit-that makes this unusual mystery work, and readers will eagerly await the next installment."-Richmond Times-Dispatch
"Kent's first mystery is the beginning of a new and promising series.... The atmosphere and setting are integral to both character and plot and lend a unique note to this solid mystery. Definitely a series to watch."-Booklist For eight years, Graeme Kent was Head of BBC Schools broadcasting in the Solomon Islands. Prior to that he taught in six primary schools in the UK and was headmaster of one. Currently, he is Educational Broadcasting Consultant for the South Pacific Commission. 1
THE GLORY SHELL
Sister Conchita clung to the sides of the small dugout canoe as
the waves pounded over the frail vessel, soaking its two
occupants. In front of her the Malaitan scooped his paddle into
the water, trying to keep the craft on an even balance. Sister
Conchita could see the coastal village a hundred yards away. The
beach was crowded with islanders. She wondered whether it had
been worth the perilous sea journey just to see the shark-calling
ceremony when all she wanted was a shower and a meal. Of
course it was, she told herself severely. If she intended serving
God in the Solomons then she had to get to know everything
about the islands.
The half-naked islander in front of her suddenly gave a scream
of terror. Turning, he thrust the paddle into the sister's hands and
dived over the side of the canoe, disappearing into the frothing
white foam. Sister Conchita sat rigid with apprehension, the
pitted wooden blade clutched loosely in her hands. Bereft of
the islander's control, the canoe started pitching and swinging
wildly.
For a moment all that Sister Conchita wanted to do was to
cower helplessly in the bucking wooden frame. Then her
customary resourcefulness took over. Snap out of it, she thought
grimly. You got yourself into this hole, better get out of it the
1
same way, girl. Muttering a fervent prayer, she tightened her
grip on the paddle and thrust it with all her force into the water.
For the next five minutes the wiry young sister fought the sea.
The momentum of the current was sending her at breakneck
speed in the direction of the beach and the watching islanders,
but the waves were crashing over the canoe at an angle, buffeting
it from side to side. Several times the entire tree shell was
submerged beneath the surface, but on each occasion it surfaced
sufficiently for the sodden nun, coughing and gasping, to resume
her paddling.
Doggedly she kept the prow of the canoe pointing at the
beach. After an apparent eternity of choking, muscle-aching
effor