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Wings in the Dark

Page 11

by Michael Murphy


  George poured himself another drink. “I’m in total agreement. The flight is postponed until the police make an arrest.”

  As Laura, Amelia, and George talked about what steps to take in the morning, I closed my eyes for just a moment.

  A ringing telephone jarred me awake. I’d fallen asleep on the couch. I sat up and ran a hand over the stubble on my chin. As Putnam answered the phone, I checked my watch. It was after five A.M.! Why had Laura let me sleep so long? And where was she?

  Amelia and Laura came in from the balcony. I rose and took Laura’s hand. We listened while Amelia’s husband responded with an occasional solemn, “I see.”

  When he hung up, he clapped his hands and grinned. “We don’t have to postpone the flight. That was Detective Tanaka. They’ve arrested Fanny Chandler for the murder of Hank Kalua.”

  I wasn’t surprised by the arrest, but I wasn’t convinced of Fanny’s guilt.

  Putnam looked like he’d just won an Oscar. “It seems your assignment is over. Go back to your hotel and”—he gave me a wink—“resume your honeymoon.”

  I shook his hand. “Sounds like a terrific idea.”

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” Amelia hugged Laura then shook my hand. She glanced at her husband, who was making another phone call. “For us.”

  Laura and I didn’t speak as the elevator operator took us to the ground floor. Getting away from George Putnam’s control and back to quiet days and romantic nights of our honeymoon sounded perfect, but I couldn’t shake my concern about Amelia.

  Outside, we headed for the Oldsmobile. Laura took my arm. “I bet you’re relieved. The case is solved, George is happy, and your publisher will think you’re a hero.”

  I couldn’t just walk away. If the cops got it wrong, Amelia’s life could be in danger. The real killer would still be determined to prevent the flight.

  “What would you like to do tomorrow, darling? Surfing lessons or just hanging around in our private cove? And tomorrow night, let’s go back to the Mambo Club!”

  “I’d like nothing better.” I opened the passenger door and Laura climbed in.

  A few blocks later, Laura muttered to herself.

  “Did you say something, sweetheart?”

  “I said I’ve seen that look before.”

  “What look?” Was I that obvious?

  She bit her lip. “The look when you think the police have arrested the wrong person.”

  She drummed her fingernails on the seat between us. “You don’t think Fanny killed Kalua, do you?”

  “You’re going to be the kind of wife I won’t be able to hide anything from, aren’t you?”

  “I already am, darling.” Laura smiled. “Well, am I right?”

  I should be clicking my heels to abandon the investigation. I was out from under Putnam’s thumb. Mildred would be happy, George was happy and the old man would be too.

  Except for the teenage thugs and the feeling we’d been followed, the evening hadn’t involved anything dangerous. That meant things could only get worse. Above anything else, I had to keep Laura safe.

  “Jake!”

  “No, I don’t think Fanny did it.”

  “You’re going to resume the investigation tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “I think I’ll leave murder investigations to professionals.” I held her hand. “Let’s get back to our honeymoon. I’d like to take surfing lessons tomorrow from Tony.”

  Chapter 13

  I Get Billy’s Cap Back

  I drove us back to the cabana, keeping my eyes peeled in case we were being followed. Inside it, I tried not to make it obvious I was checking that nothing had been disturbed. Satisfied, I pulled the car keys from my pocket and set my hat on my head. “I’ll drop the car by the bicycle shop, leave the dough in the glove compartment, and be back in a jiffy.”

  “I’ll wait up.” She kissed me, then handed me her purse and smiled. “Take this.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t carry purses.”

  “Then be careful and hurry back.”

  When I stepped outside, she locked the door behind me.

  I drove to Mikayla’s and parked behind the shop. I slipped two tens into the glove compartment and wrote a note apologizing for returning the car so late. When I opened the door to get out, a figure stood facing me in the darkness. “Mrs. Sato?”

  “Sorry I startled you, Mr. Donovan.” She pulled matches and a pack of Chesterfields from her lightweight jacket and lit a cigarette.

  Although Laura and I both liked Mikayla and were good judges of character, we knew little about the woman’s personal life. I’d assumed she was married, even though she’d never said so.

  I got out and handed her the keys. “I apologize for the late hour. We needed the car longer than I thought. I doubled the fee and left it in the glove compartment. If it’s not enough…”

  “That’s very generous.” In the dim light, she took in my disheveled appearance, the smudges on my trousers, and the torn jacket from the alley confrontation. “Things not go well at the Mambo Club?”

  “Some unanticipated problems arose and we had to leave.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Trouble sometimes follows me.”

  She scanned the car. “I see you took good care of my car. Is your wife all right?”

  I thought about explaining, but I didn’t want to go into details about the night’s events. “We’re both fine.”

  She opened the passenger door and removed the money from the glove compartment. She stuffed the cash into her jacket pocket. “Thanks again, Mr. Donovan.”

  I tipped my cap. “I’d better be getting back.”

  As I walked down the beach, I glanced at Mikayla. Something about her behavior aroused my suspicions. Maybe it was the expensive camera she kept beneath the counter or the symbol on her wall or her constant politeness. I was from Queens. I wasn’t used to that. Maybe it was nothing but my detective instinct kicking in after another murder investigation.

  The early morning light began to illuminate the beach. I nodded to a teenage couple gathering seashells as I made my way toward the hotel and our cabana. The girl stared at me a moment then picked up a shell and showed it to her boyfriend.

  In my tuxedo, tattered from the night’s adventures, I must have looked ridiculous. As I neared the cabana, headlights flashed from a car parked near the hotel.

  My hand rose to the center of my jacket, ready to draw the gun I no longer carried. I should have taken Laura’s. I could have run to the cabana, but instead, I approached the car.

  Two men sat in the front seat, but I couldn’t make out who they were. The passenger door opened and a man I didn’t want to see stepped from the car. The morning light illuminated Detective Tanaka’s silver hair. He didn’t look happy.

  “Detective Tanaka, what a pleasant surprise.” It was a surprise, but one I could do without.

  He ran a hand over his weary face. “It’s six in the morning, and I’ve been up all night, Donovan, so let me get straight to it. I warned you about interfering with my investigation.”

  “Interfering? What are you talking about?” I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I wouldn’t admit it.

  Without taking his eyes off me, Tanaka held out one hand and snapped his fingers. The man behind the wheel tossed something through the passenger window. The detective caught the cap, which I recognized instantly as the one Billy left in Kalua’s office.

  He held it out so I could see. “This look familiar?”

  Tanaka knew the cap was Amelia’s, and he knew I knew.

  “Of course it looks familiar. I’m a Yankee fan myself, but I’ve seen thousands of Giants caps in Queens just like it.”

  “I found this one in Hank Kalua’s office.”

  I shrugged. “So he was a Giants fan. What’s the deal?”

  He tossed it to me. “It’s too small for a man’s head.”

  But not Billy’s. I examined the inside as if
inspecting it for evidence.

  “One of my officers outside the hangar reported Amelia left wearing a Giants hat. She drove off with you, Miss Wilson, and young William Thornton. I think you, your wife, and Amelia Earhart were snooping around Kalua’s office and Amelia left her cap. After we arrived, there was some commotion in the alley. You know anything about that?”

  “Laura and I drove Amelia and the kid to their hotel at the request of George Putnam.”

  “Like you agreed to check into the murder at his request.”

  I’d grown weary of pointing cops in the right direction. “If you haven’t already, you should chat with the doorman about what time we dropped her off.”

  “One of my men already did, but the man claimed he couldn’t recall what time Miss Earhart returned to the hotel. It could’ve been after you left Kalua’s office.”

  Apparently, I should’ve tipped the doorman to keep quiet.

  Tanaka gave me the once-over. “You run into some trouble tonight?”

  “Nothing I couldn’t handle.” With Laura’s help. I tossed the cap back to him. “I didn’t get much sleep either, Detective. You’re wasting your time and mine. Besides, I understand you made an arrest already in Kalua’s murder.”

  “Who’d you hear that from?”

  “George Putnam, about an hour ago, after you phoned him at his suite.”

  Tanaka glanced at his driver then gestured away from the car. As we walked away, the driver climbed out. Tanaka held up one hand. “Pete, give us a few.”

  For a moment, Pete didn’t move. Then he sat back down behind the wheel.

  Tanaka and I strolled toward the ocean, where the gentle surf slapped the sand with a soothing sound. “Look, Donovan, I made a couple of calls to the mainland to people I trust, and they told me you’re a straight shooter and know your stuff.”

  “I’m flattered.” Tanaka was surely under pressure from those higher up. Amelia Earhart’s fame would complicate any investigation. Her name would ensure the local press and eventually mainland press would scrutinize Tanaka and his investigators. “Miss Chandler confirmed you and your wife were at her place before we arrived. She said you found Mr. Kalua’s appointment book in his office.”

  She didn’t mention Billy? Maybe Fanny cared for the young man. “Okay, Laura and I went there and dug around. Amelia’s husband asked for our help. He’s not the kind of guy one says no to. We just want to make sure Laura’s friend Amelia is safe before she takes off for the coast.”

  If Tanaka had arrested Fanny, why did it matter that we’d been at Kalua’s office, and why was he here at dawn, asking me about it? “You’re not certain Fanny killed Kalua.”

  “We have a strong case. We showed Mr. Kalua’s picture to Fanny’s neighbors. Most confirmed they’d seen Kalua enter her apartment several times over the past three weeks. By tomorrow we should know the caliber of the bullets in Kalua’s body and see if it matches the gun Fanny kept in her kitchen. We’ll check her bank records. I expect to find money recently deposited to Miss Chandler’s account, but Kalua wasn’t going to leave his wife for her and Fanny got around to recognizing that. But she was also jealous of Amelia Earhart’s fame, so she lured Kalua to the hangar and shot him, knowing the only other person there was Amelia. She wanted to create a scandal so the remaining backers of the transpacific flight would turn to her.”

  “I’m sure your bosses are happy you solved the case so quickly.”

  “If you know something I don’t, Donovan, spill it.”

  “I know if someone other than Fanny killed Kalua, then Amelia Earhart’s life is in danger. If anything happens to her, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes having arrested the wrong person.”

  Tanaka took out a silver case and offered me a cigarette.

  “I don’t smoke.”

  He lit one and blew smoke into the morning air. “When I called Mr. Putnam, he sounded more than pleased we’d made an arrest. So you’re off the hook and don’t have to look into the matter any longer.”

  “You’re right. I don’t have to.”

  “But you’re going to.” He blew another puff of smoke toward the waves slapping the smooth sand. “I’m a native. I used to run along the beach here and never encounter anyone. The Islands have changed a lot since I was a kid. Americans, British, Japanese, all pulling us in different directions. Things will only get worse if Miss Earhart’s flight is successful. Your government wants her to succeed because the aviation industry will expand on the West Coast. People will travel to Hawaii in a matter of hours, instead of days.”

  “The American government is backing the flight?”

  “The government is more involved in business under Roosevelt. Washington thinks expansion of aviation across the Atlantic and Pacific will help the country out of the Depression and make America a world power.”

  The Germans and the Japanese wouldn’t be too happy about that.

  “There’s one other possibility we’re checking out.”

  “You’re hedging your bets.”

  Tanaka smiled. “We’re doing our job. Lyle Benedict, one of the other financial backers for Miss Earhart’s flight.”

  “I thought he was fishing.”

  Tanaka shrugged. “None of the fishermen we talked to have seen him. Apparently, he’s not fishing. We want to talk to him, but we haven’t found him yet. Five years ago he and Kalua got into a scrap. Cops were called, but charges were eventually dropped. Then two years ago Kalua sued Benedict. The dispute was settled out of court, but Benedict lost a lot of money and vowed to get even. Everyone was surprised when they teamed up to push this flight.”

  In spite of the arrest, the list of suspects continued to grow.

  Tanaka pulled a business card from his suit coat pocket and handed it to me. “I want to make sure we got the right person, and like you, I want Amelia Earhart safe.”

  “You do?” Until now I wasn’t so sure.

  He crushed out a cigarette on the sand. “If she’s not successful, someone else will be. Miss Earhart is a real lady, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to her.”

  Not on his watch.

  “If you come up with anything that might help, Mr. Donovan, I’d appreciate a call.”

  I slid the card into my wallet. “What makes you so sure I’m not going to drop my inquiry?”

  Tanaka grinned. He tossed Billy’s cap to me and headed back to the sedan.

  Chapter 14

  Surfing Lessons and Other Lies

  As Tanaka and Pete drove off, I considered the detective’s description of the old days and resentment of foreign influence. Could he be involved with the Royalists?

  Inside the cabana, Laura was sleeping soundly on her side in our bed, clutching my pillow. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I closed the door and returned to the front deck. I slumped down into one of the two soft flowered chairs. On the table beside me sat Freddy’s screenplay, which I’d so far managed to avoid. I gazed out at our private cove. The phone call to the Mambo Club had changed everything for Laura and me.

  I replayed the past several hours. I’d come to know Amelia Earhart better and liked the person behind the public persona engineered by her husband. She was bright and friendly and displayed a biting sense of humor. I’d even come to appreciate George Putnam. I wouldn’t have bet on that happening when he’d put the squeeze on my employer in the hangar.

  Maybe Tanaka got things right and Fanny Chandler had murdered Hank Kalua, but I needed to know for sure. The only other leads were the Royalists and Lyle Benedict, someone I knew little about.

  The Kalua brothers met at the seedy waterfront joint called the Kana Bar. It wouldn’t be easy to get the lowdown on the group there, but I had to try. I’d never take Laura to a place like that, but I wasn’t sure how to get away from her long enough to go there alone.

  I closed my eyes.

  When I woke, Laura stood beside the chair looking rested and refreshed in a white terry-cloth robe. She kissed my cheek. “Good morning
, sunshine.”

  I arched my back and the bones popped like the last few kernels in a pan of popcorn.

  Laura set down her coffee. She poured me a cup from a carafe that sat on the center of the table next to two items I wanted to ignore, Freddy’s screenplay and a newspaper.

  I took a long swallow of the satisfying brew, which flowed through my tired body better than a shot of bourbon. “Did I mention how lucky I am?”

  “You might not feel so lucky after you read this.” She handed me the paper with a front-page story by Hunter Conway.

  The headline read EARHART MECHANIC ARRESTED IN MURDER OF HONOLULU BUSINESSMAN.

  Laura took a seat. “The studio thinks any publicity is good publicity but, in this case, I’m glad my name isn’t mentioned, though yours is distributed abundantly.”

  Damn. I read the third paragraph aloud. “ ‘Former Pinkerton detective and prominent mystery writer—’ ”

  “That might sell a few books.”

  “ ‘—Jake Donovan was hired by Putnam to assist the Honolulu police investigation led by Detective Henry Tanaka.’ ”

  Tanaka would cringe when he read that line.

  I couldn’t read any more until I’d had more coffee. I tossed the newspaper on the table and refilled my cup. “What else does he say?”

  “At one point he calls you brilliant, though he’s talking about your writing. I think I planted that thought in his head during the interview, didn’t I, darling? And the paper still hasn’t printed our interview. If you talk to him, and I know you will, bring that up, will you, dear?”

  I couldn’t deal with the reporter now. It was after nine already. I had to check out the Royalists, but how would I get rid of Laura? I downed the rest of my coffee and ran a hand over the stubble on my chin. “I think I’ll feel better after a shower and shave.”

  Laura cocked her head. “I have to say, you’re taking the newspaper article very well, darling.”

 

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