by Kay Hadashi
***
At the end of the workday, Gina already had her phone out and Detective Kona’s number dialed before the last of her crew was even gone.
“I have something for you, Detective, and it’s big.”
“About Danny?”
“Yeah. I have a good lead for you to follow, solid.”
“Too little, too late, Miss Santoro.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I have to file it as a cold case. I might be able to get back to it, but not right now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? The poor guy was homeless and you’re filing it as cold? What kind of bunk is that?”
“Not bunk at all. I have two other murders to investigate, just in the last twenty-four hours. Now, if you really do have something useful, I can come by and listen, but I don’t want to hear about bottle caps. Understand?”
“You don’t have to come by. I heard on very good authority that Danny was a pimp running his business out of Bunzo’s.”
“Already knew that. Anything else?”
“Yeah. He very well may have been killed by a rival pimp, also working that bar.”
“This is solid? Reliable?”
“Directly from the mouth of one of his girls.”
“Where are you right now?” he asked.
“At the estate.”
“I’ll be there in a few. Don’t go anywhere.”
Gina barely had time to eat the last of the sandwiches and some lemonade before Detective Kona got there. He parked in the same place as always, at the side of the house. She finally figured out why, which was that it was hidden from view by the Tanizawa house on the ridge above.
“Who’s your source?” was the first thing he asked Gina.
“One of the girls that worked for him. And before you ask, she didn’t know his last name, and wasn’t even sure if Danny was his real first name.”
“That’s why I’m not getting anything on him when I show his picture around. All I ever heard was that he was a two-bit pimp that ran cheap girls out of Bunzo’s. Are you able to tell me the hooker’s name?”
“Kinda implied that I wouldn’t. I get the idea she’s squared up, and won’t work the streets anymore.”
“I already have a pretty good idea of who it is.” Kona took a deep breath and sighed. “Okay, what did she tell you about him?”
“She’d been working for him for only a few months. He didn’t have many girls, and they worked cheap. When another pimp moved his girls to Bunzo’s, he paid protection money, and Danny didn’t. That’s what led to Danny’s downfall.”
“Protection money to who?”
“Harry Tanizawa, the bar owner.”
“Who was the other pimp?”
“Chuck, the evening bartender at Bunzo’s.”
“Perfect set-up for him. Pays for protection, and gets it back in pay for tending bar.”
“Everything I’ve heard is that Harry knows nothing about the prostitution ring in his bar, but he really does after all.” Gina clenched a fist and punched her other hand with it. “And the real money comes from the girls Chuck pimps out every night.”
“Miss Santoro, how much undercover work did you do back in Cleveland?”
“A couple streetwalker stings. Why?”
“Are you busy this evening?”
“You want me to do a sting at Bunzo’s with you? Forget it. I’m not a cop anymore, remember?”
“Might be a few bucks in it for you.”
“Why not just use a cop from the precinct?”
“A little short staffed these days.”
“Is that why you work alone?”
He nodded. “I’m the only homicide detective in Kahala Precinct.”
“I don’t know how big that is.”
“From here to Hawaii Kai. That’s seventy square miles and a hundred thousand people with only one homicide detective to cover it. In fact, everything on the other side of East-West Road is someone else’s problem.”
“Sorry he didn’t die on the other side of the street. Had I known he’d be so much trouble, I would’ve dragged him across the street and dumped the body there.”
“You want to help get the dude, or am I wasting my time?”
“One night, that’s it. Don’t push your luck asking for more.” She aimed an accusatorial finger at him. “If you get me killed, you’ll have my mother to deal with, and she ain’t so forgiving.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
If there was one thing Gina knew how to do, it was look slutty. All she had to do was channel her inner high school prom date appearance. After too much makeup needed to hide the slight shiner she still had on one eye, even extending the cateye effect a little too much, she put on her pushup bra and tightest T-shirt. Finishing her outfit was her bright green tennis skirt that showed more leg than any of her others, and sat low on her hips. She finished her hooker appearance by wearing every piece of jewelry she’d brought to Hawaii. With one last application of bright red lipstick, she hoped she might not be too recognizable at Bunzo’s.
The only heeled shoes she had were two-inch wedges, which she carried with her when she left the house. When she got to the sidewalk out on East-West Road, she crossed the dark street to where she had arranged to meet Detective Kona that evening.
Mid-evening and classes were long done for the day, and most buildings were closed. The wide boulevard was mostly quiet. Having not brought an umbrella, Gina had to stand under the awning of a doorway to keep a rain shower off. It was the light over top of her that made her stand out, and after a couple of cars slowed down to take a long look at her, she got impatient waiting for Kona. She checked her phone for missed calls or messages repeatedly, and just as she was being honked at by a car full of horny co-eds, an SUV pulled to the curb in front of her.
She’d been expecting to see Kona in his usual sedan, so she didn’t recognize him right away. Maybe because she’d suffered some humiliation by having to wait for him for so long, or maybe she just wanted to see if she could get his face to crack a smile for a change, she pretended she really was a hooker when she walked to his car.
Instead of getting in, she leaned her elbows on the door and looked in at him. “Looking for a date?”
He checked his mirrors. “Get in the car, Santoro.”
“Not till I get my price.”
He glared at her and then let his foot off the brake for a moment, allowing the car to lurch forward. Gina flicked her fingers under her chin at him.
He pushed the car door open. “Get in the car.”
She got in and slammed the door closed. “Alright, already. Just selling my new look.”
“You don’t have to sell it so well. Not yet, anyway.”
Gina checked her face in the vanity mirror on the flipside of the sun visor, still wondering if she had on too much eye shadow. “I look good, though, right?”
Kona got out into traffic. “Yeah, at least fifty dollars’ worth.”
She flipped the visor up again. “That’s it? That’s all a half hour with me is worth? Fifty bucks?”
“That’s more than what most of them get. And who said anything about half an hour? Fifteen minutes in the backseat of the guy’s car, and don’t expect a lot of personal hygiene.”
“Eww.”
“Makes being a gardener a lot more attractive, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“Landscape horticulturist.”
“Someday, you’ll have to explain the difference,” he said. “You got it straight what we’re trying to accomplish at Bunzo’s tonight?”
“Yeah. I go in and find a place at Chuck’s end of the bar. I make sure he understands I ain’t got no daddy and I’m tired of strolling downtown. I’m lookin’ to choose up to a new family. Hopefully, he’ll ask if I want to be in his stable.”
“You have the terminology right. Just don’t overuse it. If any of the bar customers approach, call them ‘Sugar’ and tell them you’re taking a break. Don’t make eye contact with Ch
uck until he strikes up a conversation about you working in the bar. That’s important.”
“What do I call him?” she asked.
“Nothing. Play hard to get, if anything. But not too hard.”
“Hard to get hooker? That doesn’t make sense at all.”
“You want him to be your pimp, not a john. You need to convince him you’re worth taking on. But the point of this evening is to catch Chuck in a mistake.”
“You mean entrap?”
“You have the luxury of using that word, but I don’t,” Detective Kona said. “He needs to say out loud that he had something to do with Danny’s death.”
“How do I do that?” she asked.
“Tell him you were sent in looking for a pimp named Danny. Be sure to refer to Danny in the present tense. Once Chuck refers to him in the past tense, that means he knows Danny is dead, and that leads you closer to what he knows about it.”
“Sounds like entrapment to me.”
“Which is why you have to make it sound like a job interview to him. Once you pretend to discover the news that Danny is dead, you need to find out what happened to him.”
“Chuck’ll see right through that, won’t he?” Gina asked.
“Not if you lead him along slowly. Things like, ‘Gee, that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to having a new daddy. I wonder what happened to him? It’s too bad the way people treat each other anymore,’ will lead him along. Remember, always go with leading questions, but give only yes or no answers.”
“Then as soon as Chuck says something like ‘Danny got shivved,’ we’ll know he knows something about it?” she asked.
“Right. If he knows what day of the week, or where his body was found, any details of the circumstances is helpful.”
“Then it’s my word against his as a witness,” Gina said. “There’s no way I can wear a wire with this blouse. Not just the mike would show, but the wire would also.”
Kona parked up the street from Bunzo’s and shut off the headlights and windshield wipers, nowhere near a streetlight. A woman using an umbrella came down the sidewalk in their direction, doing a hooker-style runway walk. In the dark car with the steady rain pattering off the car windows, Gina got a shiver thinking about what it would be like to work a street corner in bad weather.
He opened a small box and handed it to her. A tiny device the size of a bean was inside. “Goes in your ear. With that, we can hear everything you hear, and pick up your voice from internally.”
“Something this small can broadcast to wherever you’re listening?”
“It has a limited range, and can’t be picked up through walls.”
“How are you going to hear the conversation?” she asked.
Startling Gina was a rapid knocking on the window next to her. She looked out to see the woman with the umbrella, gesturing to Kona. He unlocked the rear passenger door to let her in.
“This is Candy. She’ll be in Bunzo’s with you, only at a table a few feet away.”
“She’s the one wearing a wire?” Gina asked.
“Right, one that can pick up your signal and is strong enough to relay it to us. Both of you need to remember to stay away from any electronic equipment, and anything making a lot of noise. That includes blenders at the bar and the flatscreen on the wall. Make sure you work your conversation around the use of the blender, and while Chuck is within a few feet of you. The closer, the better.”
Detective Kona went to the back seat of the car and began taping down the wire and tiny transmitter to Candy’s chest.
“What if Chuck wants to, you know, give me a whirl before deciding to take me on?” Gina asked.
“I suppose you’d have a problem with going to the back room with him?”
“Uh, yeah!”
“Y’all ain’t missin’ much with Chuck,” Candy said, buttoning her blouse again. Her accent betrayed her southern upbringing. Or maybe it was a good act, Gina wasn’t sure.
Gina looked at her new workmate again. “Oh, you’re…”
“Like, duh, Princess.”
“Hey!”
“Best you keep your mouth shut if you want to look like a workin’ girl,” Candy said, with a sniff at the end. “Not a playground for little girls in there.”
Gina turned around in her seat to glare. “Yeah, and you know what?”
“Relax, Santoro,” Kona said.
“Where’s my money?” Candy said to no one in particular. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere or doin’ nothin’ till I get paid.”
Gina watched as Kona handed over a Philly roll. Candy quickly counted by flipping through the corners of each bill. Unzipping her hot pants, she opened a hidden pocket on the inside of them. When she looked up, she returned Gina’s earlier glare. “Whatchu lookin’ at?”
“Nothing.”
“Bitch, you callin’ me nothin’?”
“No. Look, I’m sorry, okay?”
“Yo’ sorry ass better not get me in trouble.” Candy slid down in her seat and crossed her arms, looking at the rain patter on the window. “Punk, I’ll cut you from one end to the other.”
Gina couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and looked at Detective Kona for reassurance. He was grinning back at her.
“Having a good time, Santoro?” he asked.
“Yeah, swell.”
“Candy will go in first,” he said. “Both of you need to make sure you stay inside the same room together. Candy, try to face the bar. Santoro, try to keep your ear pointed in the direction of Chuck and Candy at the same time, if at all possible. Try to position yourselves so there are as few people as possible between the two of you.”
With that, Candy left the car, walking toward Bunzo’s, her umbrella over her head, taking her attitude with her.
“What debutante training center did you find her at?” Gina asked, watching a cloud of cigarette smoke swirl into the rain.
“She found me.”
“She’s an informant?”
“Candy works jobs like this for me from time to time. How old do you think she is?”
“I didn’t get a good look at her face. Maybe close to thirty?” Gina said.
“Just turned nineteen, and she already knows more about what happens on Honolulu streets after dark than I ever could.”
“I’m sure her parents are proud.”
“Not sure she has any. You might want to tread carefully around her, though. She doesn’t take much crap off anyone.”
“I got that impression when she said she’d cut me right after I apologized.” Candy went into Bunzo’s, leaving her umbrella outside under the awning. “Do I get a clever name?”
“Yeah. Misty.”
“Misty? Whose idea was that?”
“Candy’s.”
“Isn’t she going to have trouble if she’s at a table working renegade?” Gina asked. She meant working without being in a pimp’s stable.
“She’s in Chuck’s stable.”
“If she’s turning tricks for him, why is she helping the police with a sting against him?”
“See the bruises on her chest when I wired her? And the scar on her arm? Chuck gave those to her.”
“There’s no way she can buy her way out of his stable?”
“She’s already tried convincing him she didn’t want to work for him.”
“How’d she do that?”
“Remember the scar on Chuck’s cheek? She gave it to him.”
“That’s some pretty messed up family dynamics. Do all his girls think the same about him?”
“As far as they’re concerned, the wrong pimp got stuck last week.”
Gina scratched her head. “If they don’t like Chuck, why’d they leave Danny and join his family?”
“Whoever your informant is didn’t get it quite right. The only reason they left Danny for Chuck is that they knew Danny wasn’t long for the world. Believe me, every girl in Bunzo’s tonight would love the chance to stick him with a rusty ice pick.”
“What
do you mean, Danny wasn’t long for the world?” Gina asked.
“The medical examiner found cancer in his liver and a few other parts during the autopsy.”
“Oh. Do you suppose Danny knew?”
“Maybe, maybe not. The medical examiner tried searching hospital records for cancer treatment for anyone named Danny in the last few months, but found nothing.”
“Maybe without a real job or health insurance, he had no way of paying for cancer treatment?”
“That’s probably what he thought, but hospitals always have funding for people like him. Otherwise, it was another dead end in finding out his last name.”
“What about Chuck? It sounds like busting him for murder and getting him off the streets would be doing his girls and Harry a favor,” Gina said.
“Hell hath no fury like a hooker cheated,” Kona said. “By the way, who’s your informant?”
“Nice try, but I’m keeping that to myself.” Gina shoved the tiny electronic device into her ear until it was snug. It was no different from the latest model of ‘invisible’ hearing aid one of her uncles used, and really was invisible once she fluffed hair over that ear. “Showtime?”
“Break a leg, Misty.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Gina used an umbrella borrowed from Detective Kona to walk to Bunzo’s. While she did that, she watched from the corner of her eye how he positioned his SUV closer to the bar for a better view of the front entrance, and maybe to shorten the distance the transmitter Candy was wearing had to broadcast. She left her umbrella next to Candy’s and several others outside the door when she went in.
It wasn’t nearly as busy as it had been on New Year’s Eve. Candy had found a table for herself not far from the bar. She was already set up with something brightly colored to drink, and was playing with the tiny umbrella that had come with it.
Gina took a stool at the bar and positioned her body so her working ear was aimed a little at the bar and a little in Candy’s direction, geometrically not an easy task. Like a few nights before, one bartender worked the far end of the bar, while Chuck worked her end. It looked a little like Chuck was responsible to the bar patrons, while the other tender made drinks for table patrons. Maybe they were in luck, because the loud music that had been played on New Year’s was more like Muzak that night.
