Restless Waters

by Jessica Speart

  “Call it an educated guess. Take a look for yourself. Kalahiki’s body is lodged directly below here, under a rock,” I calmly responded.

  He walked to the edge and flashed his light in the water, where Sammy waved to him in hello. Fong looked at me in surprise.

  “Interesting story, except for one problem. All I can see is a hand. Which leads to the next question. What makes you so certain that this is your friend?”

  “Take a closer look and you’ll spot a star sapphire ring on one of the fingers. It belonged to Sammy,” I explained.

  “What was the relationship between you two, anyway? Was he just an acquaintance, or perhaps something more?” Fong asked, now turning to look directly at me.

  What did he think? This was the result of some sort of lovers’ quarrel?

  “We were friends,” I lied.

  “It seems like rather a strange place to meet a friend at night. Wouldn’t you agree? What did you come here for, anyway?”

  “Sammy said it was a great spot to watch the sunset. I decided to take him up on the offer,” I replied, purposely choosing to remain vague.

  I was grateful that Fong was at least asking the right questions. Now all he needed to do was dismiss me as his prime suspect. Apparently, Fong came to the same conclusion.

  “Sorry about your friend. But you’d be amazed how often this sort of thing happens around here.’”

  “What’s that?” I inquired, wondering what he was getting at.

  “People lose their footing and fall off cliffs on this island all the time.”

  Two of the technicians began to climb down, and we shined our lights on the rocks to help guide their way.

  “Damn, but this guy’s pinned under here pretty good,” one of the men called to us, as they tried to pull him out.

  Their struggle continued until the flow of the tide finally helped to dislodge him. Once that was done, a body bag and stretcher were lowered, and Sammy was packed and strapped onto it. Then Fong helped the third technician lift the parcel back up the cliff.

  We waited until all were again on firm ground before zipping open the body bag.

  Sammy stared up at us, as though wondering why he was on his back and we were all standing around gaping at him. I’d seen that same expression on others whose lives had been cut short. The disbelief that this couldn’t be all there was to existence. But there was something else in his eyes, as well: a silent demand for retribution.

  “Take a look at this,” Fong said, and aimed his flashlight on Kalahiki’s torso. “Pretty nasty, huh?”

  A series of ugly red gashes had been torn across his body, ripping through muscle, flesh, and bone. I tried hard not to gag at the sight of Sammy’s intestines hanging half out.

  “Those slashes could have been made by only one thing: a shark. That should answer any question as to how your friend died. That is, if the fall didn’t kill him first,” Fong theorized.

  The same lacerations covered Sammy’s chest and throat, making him look more like the victim of a slasher than any meals-on-wheels for a shark. That was the other thing. He’d clearly bled out.

  Kalahiki’s complexion was chalky, as if a vampire had fed on him. Though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, I knew that something was wrong.

  I took a deep breath, and waited to hear what else Fong had to say.

  “Okay, boys. That’s it. Let’s get him out of here,” he ordered.

  Sammy’s eyes were the last thing I saw as the bag was closed up. They bore into mine, as if determined to extract a promise.

  “I’m sure you’ll learn more during the autopsy. In any case, I’d like to be kept in the loop as the investigation progresses,” I said, having regained my composure.

  Fong regarded me strangely, his expression oscillating between irritation and amusement.

  “And what makes you think there’s going to be an investigation? This was clearly an accident,” he responded.

  “Wait a minute. You don’t know that for certain,” I disputed. “There are still too many unanswered questions.”

  “Such as?” Fong challenged.

  “Such as things which simply don’t add up,” I obstinately replied, unable to conjure any specifics—except for one. “A shark wouldn’t have attacked Kalahiki like that and then just left him. Not without at least eating part of the body.”

  “Maybe your friend didn’t taste so good,” Fong retorted, abruptly dismissing my concern. “Anyway, that’s not my area of expertise. All I can tell you is what I found, which is nothing. There’s no other explanation but for the fact that he stood too close to the edge, stepped on a loose stone, slipped and lost his balance. As I said before, this kind of thing happens all the time. You want to go interview a bunch of sharks, be my guest. That’s your business. But as far as I’m concerned, this case is closed.”

  Fong said nothing more, but turned and walked off. The two technicians tottered behind like crabs, balancing Sammy’s body between them, while the third man directed his light on the path. I reluctantly followed. Though I didn’t agree with Fong’s conclusion, neither did I want to be left in the dark.

  We silently parted ways upon reaching our vehicles, and I guided the Explorer toward home. The moon hid behind clouds, as though it were also protesting Fong’s decision.

  Sammy was supposed to have brought evidence with him tonight. I now wondered if he had and, if so, what could have happened to it? There’d been no sign of papers in among the rocks—unless the sea had chosen to wipe away all clues of their existence. Not only that, but I couldn’t erase the image of Sammy’s shredded flesh from my mind. It had hung from his bones like tattered rags.

  Fong was right. Sammy did appear to have been killed by a shark attack. Yet there was something about it that simply didn’t make sense.

  The sound of the waves helped lull my nerves as my tires raced down the road. I parked in the driveway and followed my nose along the beach to where Kevin and Jake were cooking dinner.

  “How did I know you’d arrive home in time to eat?” Santou asked with a grin.

  I think it’s the one talent I have left,” I glumly responded.

  Kevin threw me a beer and popped open a can for himself.

  “Tough day, huh? Well, we’re nothing but a couple of beach bums with plenty of time on our hands. So, why don’t you tell us about it?” he suggested, stretching his legs and wiggling his toes in the sand.

  His one-eighty-degree change in demeanor took me by surprise. I was about to ask if he’d spent his day undergoing a lobotomy, when Santou caught my eye and slyly smiled.

  At the same time, Spam crawled on his belly through the sand, until he was close enough to lay his head in my lap. Lifting a paw, he demanded that I scratch him behind the ears. I idly did so.

  What the hell. The worst Kevin could do was to try and knock me down a couple of pegs. And in my mood, I’d simply beat the crap out of him. When considered in that light, it was a win-win situation.

  “There’s another case I’m working on at the moment. One I haven’t told you about, that involves shark finning,” I revealed.

  “Shark finning, huh? Didn’t I read something about that just a few years ago?” Kevin retorted. “I seem to remember the governor signed a bill declaring it to be illegal. That’s right, and the local fishermen were pretty pissed.”

  “Yes, it’s both a state and federal law,” I said, impressed that he actually recalled the occasion. “In any case, it’s still going on gangbusters in Oahu. Or at least, that’s what I’ve been told.”

  “Then you don’t know for certain?” Jake inquired.

  “Let’s just say I’m met with plenty of resistance whenever I ask any questions. Even more upsetting is that my informant died tonight.”

  “Accident or murder?” Kevin asked, cutting straight to the point.

  “Who knows? It looks like he fell off a cliff and was attacked by a shark, but I’m not buying it. This was a native guy who knew the island inside and
out,” I replied. “Kalahiki was also an observer with the National Marine Fisheries Service. He’d recently accused the agency of turning a blind eye to shark finning, at best, and possibly giving it their tacit approval, at worst. Whichever it is, Kalahiki was supposed to bring along evidence. However, by the time I got to our meeting place, he was already dead.”

  “Don’t tell me. And the evidence was gone,” Kevin surmised with a chuckle.

  “Not only that, but the responding officer on the scene called his death an accident, and refused to consider anything else,” I revealed.

  “Of course. Why should he make problems for himself, when it can be bagged, tagged, and cleaned up so easily?” Santou concluded.

  Then he stared at me, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Vinnie Bertucci, does it?”

  “No,” I said, with a shake of my head. “You know how the Statue of Liberty’s inscription reads, ‘Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free’? Well Vinnie’s motto is Give me your men with limp dicks. He’s busy selling black-market Viagra to all the needy Joes of the world.”

  Santou burst into laughter. “Oh, that’s perfect. Now the mob’s dealing in Mr. Blues? The pharmaceutical industry should love that. They’ll have to create another pill just to counteract all the out-of-control erections.”

  “Not so fast,” Kevin bantered. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

  “Getting back to the topic at hand, did your boss know that you planned to investigate shark finning? It’s a pretty sensitive matter if it involves another agency,” Jake commented.

  “That’s the thing. I mentioned it to him. But sharks fall solely under NMFS’s jurisdiction, not Fish and Wildlife’s. Pryor said I was to stay the hell out of it,” I conceded.

  “Yeah. But you went ahead anyway, didn’t you? Because you’re that kind of gal. A fucking haole, right?” Kevin responded, with a cynical snort.

  Now this was the Kevin that I’d come to know: a sarcastic jerk without an ounce of humanity in him.

  “Don’t you realize that island life is all about getting by? You don’t do anything to rock the boat,” he continued, seeming to go out of his way to egg me on.

  I looked out at the water and swore I could see Sammy’s hand still waving, imploring me not to give up.

  “I’m an investigator. That’s what I do. I investigate,” I retorted between clenched teeth. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s no such thing as ‘my jurisdiction.’ If something is illegal, I enforce the law. The rest is a pile of crap.”

  Kevin stared at me and then slowly nodded, as if in agreement.

  “Congratulations, Jake. I didn’t realize you had such a hard-ass fighter on your hands. Maybe she really can get something done.”

  Santou grinned at him in return. “That’s what I’ve been telling you all along. The woman’s a wolverine.”

  Kevin crossed his legs in half lotus position, and leaned in toward me.

  “Then it’s high time that you learn a few cold hard facts about Hawaii. This place works differently from just about anywhere else.”

  “So I gathered,” I morosely responded, having begun to wonder if I’d already come to a dead end.

  “Everything in Hawaii is based on politics and who you know. It’s incestuous as hell. Oh, yeah. And there’s one other thing that makes this tropical carousel spin round and round,” he added.

  “What’s that?” I asked, forced to admit that Kevin knew more about the island than I did.

  “Money, money, money talks,” he said, rubbing his fingers together. “Everything runs on a cash economy here—be it drugs, meth, shark fins, or anything else illegal. This place is Apocalypse Now without the war.”

  A shiver raced through me as I flashed back to the note left by the prior Fish and Wildlife agent on my computer. The phrasing was exactly the same. Could it be that was what he had meant?

  “Hawaii is where deals are cut. The hula shows, the sun and the fun? They’re just a thin layer of icing for tourists on top of a very dark cake. This is by far the most corrupt place in the U.S. And I’m not only referring to what goes on inside most agencies. I’m talking about high-level corruption. You can easily lose your soul in this place,” Kevin acknowledged, with a note of regret in his voice.

  For a moment, I wondered if he was talking about himself.

  “The question you need to ask is who’s running the shark-fin trade in Hawaii.” he pressed. “Is it just a bunch of local fishermen hacking off fins to make a few extra bucks? Or is it something bigger and more insidious? And if so, what?”

  He’d given me plenty to think about as I gazed at the stars, my mental postcard of paradise becoming increasingly frayed.

  “After hearing all this, are you still certain you want to take shark finning on?” Jake questioned, his hand coming to rest on my back.

  “I don’t see that I have any choice,” I responded, knowing if I didn’t rock the boat, there was little hope that anyone else would give a damn.

  “You really care that much about this stuff, huh?” Kevin asked.

  He pulled a pack of Marlboros from his shirt pocket and lit up a cigarette. The tip glowed, bright as a burst of blood in the night. I looked at him in surprise, having never seen Kevin smoke before.

  “Yeah, I know. It’s a lousy habit that I gave up years ago. Still, we all need our little vices every now and then. Don’t we?”

  His eyes met mine, and I realized he knew more about me than I would have liked.

  “But you haven’t yet answered my question,” Kevin reminded me, as if it were a challenge.

  “I’m sure that you gave a hundred and ten percent to your job.” Whatever that might have been, I thought. “Why should I be expected to do any less?”

  Kevin took a deep tug and blew a lazy ring of smoke into the air. It performed a seductive hula before languorously drifting up to join the clouds.

  “Okay then. I have friends here that owe me a favor or two. Let me make a few calls and see what I can find out for you.”

  Santou looked at me as if to say, See? I told you that Kevin is a good guy.

  But I knew he was doing this for Jake. That was all right. At this point, I was willing to take help where I could get it. There seemed little question but that I was about to jump head-long into a battle that would pit a couple of federal Goliaths against one very determined Fish and Wildlife agent.

  Thirteen

  I should have realized that my day was off to a bad start when I ordered a latte at Starbucks and left with a cup of cold tea. My morning immediately went downhill from there. I walked into the office, earlier than usual, only to find Norm Pryor already waiting for me. My first step inside promptly set off an explosion of fireworks.

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Pryor demanded, his face turning an impressive shade of purple.

  “Showing up for work?” I brazenly responded, determined to ride out the storm.

  With any luck, Pryor would decide to back off. I must have been living in a dream world.

  “You know damn well what I’m talking about. You arranged to meet Sammy Kalahiki last night, didn’t you? I want to know exactly why you were planning to see him,” he yelled.

  Word clearly traveled fast via the coconut wireless. I watched as Jaba the Hut transformed into the Raging Bull before my eyes.

  “We realized that we enjoy taking nature walks together,” I retorted dryly, partially to see if Pryor would get any angrier.

  My wish was instantly granted.

  “Bullshit! Don’t hand me that line of crap,” he erupted, his face mutating to bright red. “Sammy Kalahiki was an observer with the National Marine Fisheries Service, and a disgruntled one at that. Now I know why you’ve been harping away about shark finning these past few days. The guy was nothing but a troublemaker. In fact, he’d been fired just yesterday. Did you also happen to know that? It’s probably why he jumped off that damn c
liff last night. He was embarrassed that he’d lied about things and made such an ass of himself.”

  This was the first I’d heard that Sammy had been let go. I wondered if it was true. If so, it shined an even darker light on last night’s events. It also threw a layer of guilt on me. Perhaps I’d pushed too hard for evidence. What if Sammy had tried to get more and been caught? The truth of the matter would be hard to uncover. A document could easily be created claiming that he’d been fired.

  “I warned you before. This time I’m ordering you to stay the hell out of National Marine Fisheries’ business,” Pryor fumed.

  The man was so worked up that he was nearly apoplectic.

  “I don’t get it. Why should everyone be so upset that I’m asking a few simple questions about shark finning?” I inquired.

  Pryor looked at me though if I were the village idiot.

  “For chrissakes. What rock have you been living under? Don’t you know that Senator Shirley Chang takes a personal interest in anything to do with Hawaii’s commercial fishing industry? If you don’t back off now, both our heads will roll.”

  I was well aware that Chang, as a member of the Senate Appropriations Committee, had funneled mucho government funds to both the Hawaiian Fishing Council and the longline fishing industry. Her picture was constantly in the newspaper, where she was lauded for all her good work.

  Chang had managed to secure $250,000 from the 2004 budget alone to fund the Council’s “coral reef ecosystem” fishing plan. That was in addition to the $8,000,000 she’d already finagled for longliners under a little something called “economic disaster relief.”

  To my mind, “relief” was a questionable term, considering that it helped to further devastate a number of already endangered marine species. The fishing industry returned the favor by helping to finance Chang’s campaigns and supplying all the necessary labor votes.

  It didn’t take much digging to discover that Chang was also responsible for a good deal of money acquired by the National Marine Fisheries Service. Word had it a close look would reveal that a number of Chang’s friends generally wound up as beneficiaries of NMFS grants and contracts. She clearly knew how to work the system by rewarding her chums and punishing her enemies.