The Secret of the Golden Pavillion

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The Secret of the Golden Pavillion Page 5

by Carolyn G. Keene


  As the girls went through the gate, a smiling couple walked up to Nancy. “Are you Nancy Drew?” the woman asked pleasantly.

  “Yes, I am. And you must be Mrs. Armstrong.”

  The woman nodded as Mr. Armstrong introduced himself. At the same time the couple began slipping leis over the shoulders of the River Heights group. For Nancy there was one of white gardenias, a favorite flower of hers.

  “Thank you so very much,” she said. “This is a wonderful greeting!”

  There was no chance for any further conversation, for at that moment three young men rushed up to the girls.

  “Ned!” cried Nancy, as her tall, dark-haired handsome friend came toward her.

  “Burt!” George called to the blond, husky youth.

  “Dave!” exclaimed Bess in delight, looking up at the rangily-built, green-eyed young man.

  The Emerson boys’ arms also held leis which they dropped around the girls’ necks with quick kisses. Nancy’s lei was made of pale-pink plumiera, George’s of baby anthuriums, and Bess’s of orchids and carnations.

  Warm greetings were exchanged and Nancy introduced the Armstrongs. As the group walked into the airport building to claim the travelers’ luggage, Bess insisted that they were being followed.

  “Not again!” George wailed.

  Bess was adamant. “I just know those two men I saw looking at us are members of the Double Scorps,” she whispered to Nancy. “They’ve gone now.”

  Ned overheard the remark and wanted to know what she meant by Double Scorps. Nancy explained quickly, adding that Bess might be right.

  “Then we’re going to throw those snoopers off the trail!” Ned declared. “Suppose we all go to the Halekulani where we fellows are staying. We’ll have a swim and maybe a sail. Those Scorps will think you’ve changed your plans. Later on we’ll drive out to Kaluakua.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong were agreeable to this plan and the whole group piled into their big sedan. As the travelers rode through the city of Honolulu, they were intrigued with the hustle and bustle of the modern capital of the Islands. Streams of people poured into tall office buildings and department stores. Here and there, palm trees, waving in the soft breeze, shaded the sidewalks from the tropical sun.

  Presently, Mr. Armstrong stopped the car and pointed to the dark-colored statue of a man atop a high, square pedestal. “That is a likeness of King Kamehameha, first king of all the Hawaiian Islands. Before that, each island had its own king.”

  Mr. Armstrong led the group to Iolani Palace nearby. Smiling, he said, “You know, this is the only palace in the United States.”

  As they went inside the cool, stately, highceilinged building, he explained that parts of the palace were now used by the legislative branch of the government.

  “But the throne room looks exactly as it did many years ago, although the throne and the chairs on either side of it are replicas. The originals are in the Bishop Museum.”

  The visitors gazed at the beautiful paintings and draperies, conjuring up in their minds the grandeur of a bygone day when King Kamehameha had been seated on the throne in a gorgeous feather robe and headgear.

  “And now I think we had better go,” said Mr. Armstrong, and led the way back to his car.

  A little while later they came to the Waikiki Beach area of Honolulu and turned into the driveway of an attractive garden which formed the grounds of the Halekulani Hotel.

  They parked in front of the main building and Ned ran in to the office to ask for another room for the boys to use that day. They had insisted that the girls use their private apartment in one of the cottages with its lovely lanai.

  Small suitcases belonging to Nancy, Bess, and George were carried to the first-floor apartment on the shady, flower-shrubbed grounds.

  “We’ll meet you girls on the beach in fifteen minutes,” Ned said as the boys left them.

  The girls changed to bathing suits, then went to the front of the hotel which faced the ocean. Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong and Hannah Gruen were seated on the tree-shaded terrace. Three feet below them stretched the white, sandy beach.

  “How absolutely heavenly!” Bess exclaimed.

  Mrs. Armstrong warned the girls that the tropi cal sunshine was very intense. She handed Nancy a bottle of suntan lotion and advised, “Better cover yourselves with this.”

  Nancy and her friends had just finished spraying themselves with the lotion when Ned, Burt, and Dave appeared. As they walked down to the water the visitors were fascinated by the surf-board riders a little distance away and by the twin-hulled sailboats with their gay-colored sails.

  “I want you girls to go out in one of those catamarans,” said Ned. “But let’s swim first.”

  The six young people thoroughly enjoyed diving through the waves, swimming out a distance, and riding back in on the combers. Presently a catamaran with a red mainsail and a yellow jib pulled into the beach.

  Ned spoke to the man at the tiller and the group climbed aboard. They sailed about half a mile out, then turned toward Diamond Head. From this vantage point, the mainlanders could get a fine view of Waikiki Beach, with its sky-scraper hotels, beautiful gardens, and fine homes.

  When they turned back toward the beach, George suggested that they all swim ashore. Nancy and Ned, the last to leave the catamaran, thanked the boat’s owner for a fine sail, then headed for the beach. Reaching it, the pair sat down to dry of and talk.

  “Tell me in detail about your trip,” Nancy requested. “Just what did happen to the plane?”

  “Actually, I’m not sure,” Ned answered, “but I had a feeling we were never in any great danger. The radio went dead, so of course we had no communication with any airports. First one of our engines conked out, then another. At this point the pilot decided that the best thing to do would be to turn back.

  “While we were waiting at the Los Angeles airport for the motors to be put in shape again, something rather unusual happened, Nancy. A man came up and asked if he might join our group.”

  Ned went on to say that the man explained he had missed the commercial flight to Honolulu and it was imperative he get to the Islands as soon as possible. “His papers and identification were in order, so there was no reason to refuse him. But, somehow, I didn’t like him. Nancy, he had a habit of drumming on window sills, chair arms, and tables with his finger tips. It made us nervous.”

  Hearing this, Nancy sat up very straight. Looking at Ned intently, she asked, “And did this man raise his forefingers and touch them together?”

  It was Ned’s turn to look surprised. “Yes, he did, Nancy. For Pete’s sake, how did you know that?”

  CHAPTER IX

  The Golden Pavilion

  QUICKLY Nancy gave Ned full details regarding the thief who had stolen Mr. Drew’s brief case. Ned in turn furnished a description of the man who had begged a ride on the Emerson plane.

  “I’m sure he’s Jim O’Keefe,” Nancy stated.

  “But he used the name of Tim O’Malley,” Ned told her. “All his papers, tickets, and identifications were made out in that name.”

  “I wonder if O’Malley is his real name or an alias,” Nancy mused. “Anyway, we know he’s in the islands of Hawaii. Let’s hope we can trap him.”

  “From all you tell me,” Ned said, “this fellow sounds dangerous. I’m glad I’ll be around to help you nab him.”

  Nancy decided that as soon as she was dressed she would put in a telephone call to River Heights. She told Ned that she wanted to tell her father about this latest development and ask his advice.

  “But let’s have a short sail and another swim first,” Ned suggested.

  They walked across the beach to the others, who were eager for another sail.

  George said with a chuckle, “Once the mystery starts breaking at Kaluakua, we’ll be kept hopping, with no time for water sports.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” Nancy said, smiling. “I’ll give you sleuths a few hours a day for fun.”

  �
��Oh, thanks so much,” Dave said with an exaggerated bow.

  The six young people swam out to a catamaran and climbed aboard. Soon they were whipping along once more toward Diamond Head.

  “I wish we had some of this breeze in River Heights,” George spoke up presently. “It seems to me that every time I go sailing on the Muskoka River at home the wind dies down and leaves me stranded.”

  “Oh, well, there’s one thing we can brag about,” Bess said loyally. “You can’t beat the ice skating on our river.”

  When the sailboat returned to the area in front of the Halekulani, Dave asked, “Anybody want to dive in and race to shore?”

  “Not in this balmy surf,” Bess answered. “I’ll race you in colder water some time.”

  The whole group swam leisurely to the beach and joined Hannah Gruen and the Armstrongs. Nancy told of her decision to telephone her father.

  “Suppose we all meet in half an hour for luncheon,” Mr. Armstrong suggested.

  Nancy placed the call as soon as she reached the apartment the girls were using. Then, while waiting for the call to come through, she dressed. Twenty minutes later the telephone rang.

  “Dad!” Nancy exclaimed joyfully “Oh, it’s good to hear your voice. How are you?”

  Mr. Drew assured her that he was almost completely recovered. “I’ll be able to start out on the trip soon,” he said. “But some things have come up which will keep me in California longer than I planned, so I shan’t be able to join you as quickly as I had hoped.”

  Nancy told him of the presence of Jim O‘Keefe, alias Tim O’Malley, in Honolulu. The lawyer said he would pass along the information to Police Captain McGinnis and to Mr. Sakamaki.

  “And do be careful,” Mr. Drew begged his daughter. “The police here have picked up a few more reports on the Double Scorps. They’re a dangerous gang.”

  “I promise,” said Nancy. “But please don’t worry. Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong are ready to help, and of course the three boys will be around all the time.”

  “I’m glad of that,” replied Mr. Drew. “Mr. Sakamaki gave me a message for you. He said that while he would like the mystery solved, most important of all, he hopes you and the others will have a good time at Kaluakua.”

  “I’m sure we shall,” said Nancy. “Best of luck on your journey, Dad. I’ll be looking for you.”

  She said good-by, then relayed the messages to Bess and George. Bess looked a little frightened. “I don’t like this Double Scorps business. Maybe we ought to stay here at the hotel and just go out to Kaluakua in the daytime to work on the mystery.”

  Nancy shook her head. “Not me. If you want to remain here, Bess, all right, but I’m going right out there and be on the spot when things happen. And don’t forget, there may be a lot of sleuthing to do—even at night.”

  “And,” added George, winking at Nancy over Bess’s head, “ghosts never walk in the daytime and we want to find the one who dances at night.”

  Bess looked startled for a moment, then realized that her cousin was teasing. “Oh, I’ll go of course,” she said.

  The three girls joined the rest of the party in the open-air restaurant. From their table they had a lovely view of the water, the beautiful flower gardens, and the enormous hau tree which stood to one side.

  The visitors enjoyed a first course of ripe, sliced pineapple, then, for a main dish, had delicious mahimahi, a native fish. During the meal, Ned suggested that the boys rent a car which they could use out at Kaluakua.

  “You mean we may have to make a quick getaway?” George asked with a twinkle.

  “You never can tell,” Ned replied. “And also, we’ll need it to run into town on errands.”

  The others thought Ned’s idea of renting a car a good one, so the three boys went off with Mr. Armstrong to make arrangements. An hour later they returned with a salmon-colored convertible.

  “Oh, it’s yummy!” Bess called out from the hotel porch where the group was waiting. “Ned, you’ll want to take it home with you.”

  “I’m afraid I will,” said the young man, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Climb in, girls.”

  The six friends stepped into the convertible. Hannah rode with the Armstrongs. Ned followed Mr. Armstrong through the attractive, tree-shaded streets, and then along a shore drive. Half an hour later he turned into a driveway lined with hibiscus bushes in full bloom.

  In the distance they could see a two-story white concrete mansion with a large columned front porch. In front of the house were croton bushes with varicolored leaves and near the driveway stood two royal poinciana trees with flaming red flowers.

  “This is just heavenly,” declared Bess, as Ned stopped the car in front of the house and she stepped out.

  From across a green lawn came a middle-aged man and a woman. He was short and dark, she blond and tall. They came up to the visitors and bowed.

  “I am Kiyabu and at your service,” the man said. “Welcome to Kaluakua. I hope your stay here will be very pleasant.” He motioned for the woman to come forward. “This is my wife, Emma.”

  Emma, who said she was a New Englander, shook hands with the newcomers and told them everything was ready for their stay. She would show the visitors to their rooms while Kiyabu took care of the baggage.

  Hannah and the girls followed the woman inside the spacious house, exquisitely furnished with Oriental pieces and draperies. Emma explained that she and her husband lived in a small cottage on the grounds not far from the main house.

  “There is telephone service, and please call us whenever we can help you,” she added.

  In answer to a question from Bess, she told the mainlanders that Kiyabu was half Polynesian and half Japanese. “He is very proud of Kaluakua. Whenever you would like a tour of the grounds, he will be glad to take you.” She smiled. “I’m sure you are eager to see the Golden Pavilion.”

  “Indeed we are,” said Nancy.

  “In the meantime,” Emma went on, “I shall start preparing dinner. Hawaiians usually eat rather late, but maybe you would like to set your own dinner hour.”

  “I think that while we are here,” Hannah Gruen spoke up, “we should follow the customs of the Hawaiians.”

  Soon the bags were brought upstairs, and after unpacking, the young people joined Kiyabu for a stroll around the sprawling grounds of Kaluakua. The estate included a tennis court and a fine stretch of bathing beach on which lay an outrigger canoe. Screened from the house and set in a beautiful private garden, not far from the water, was the Golden Pavilion. The visitors gazed at it in awe.

  “I have never seen a more beautiful pavilion,” said Nancy, entranced, as they came close to it.

  The black-and-gold tile platform, hacked in a few places down to its concrete subfloor, was about three feet from the ground. Latticework of wood over concrete painted white circled the building below the floor. It had a diameter of some twenty feet. Short flights of steps led up to the platform on two sides.

  The golden columns which supported the roof were round and glistened in the sunlight. The roof itself, completely of gold, was patterned in the graceful shape of a plumiera flower.

  “It looks like an Oriental temple,” George remarked.

  “And so artistic,” Bess spoke up admiringly. Recalling that Nancy had suggested it might have been erected over a grave and was lovely enough to be a memorial, she said, “Somebody must be buried beneath it.”

  Kiyabu smiled. “But not anyone human,” he said. “However, it might be a grave of one of the helpers of the Queen of Sharks.”

  Startled by this remark, the others looked at Kiyabu for a further explanation. “You have never heard the story of ancient Pearl Harbor?” he asked. When they replied no, he went on:

  “The Hawaiian name for Pearl Harbor is Puuloa, and the old Polynesians had a legend that it was the home of the Queen of the Sharks. Her name was Kaahupahau. She was a very kindly shark and lived in a place built in a cavern on the Honolulu side of Pearl Harbor.

&nb
sp; “She loved the human race and ordered her shark people never to attack them. Part of their work was to keep man-eating sharks away from this whole area. The people who lived around were very friendly to these sharks and it is even said they sometimes rode on their backs.”

  Bess gave a little shudder. “It’s a lovely story, but just the same I wouldn’t want to meet a shark out in these waters.”

  Kiyabu was about to reply to this when he turned quickly and looked toward the beach. No one was on it, but a worried look came over the Hawaiian’s face.

  “Is something wrong?” Nancy asked him quickly.

  Kiyabu shrugged, but as the group started walking back to the house, he fell behind to talk to Nancy and Ned. “I heard strange whistling,” he explained.

  “Yes, I heard it too,” said Nancy.

  “I do not like it,” said Kiyabu. “It may mean trouble. The other day Emma and I heard the same whistling on the beach. We went to investigate, but could find no one. When we returned to our cottage, it had been ransacked.”

  “You were robbed?” said Nancy. “How unfortunate!”

  “That’s the funny part of it.” Kiyabu frowned. “Nothing was taken, but the intruder certainly was looking for something. Our house was a shambles.”

  “Have you any idea what he was looking for?” Ned asked him.

  The caretaker said no, but he was sure it had something to do with the mystery of Kaluakua. Nancy asked Kiyabu if he thought perhaps the recent claimants to the estate might have been there hunting for something to help them prove their case.

  “Who knows?” Kiyabu said noncommittally. “But there is something else which I think you should know. Not long before Mr. Sakamaki Sr. died, a number of small valuable articles disappeared from the house—statuettes, some of them copies of old Polynesian pieces, and others that were genuine antiques from the Orient.

  “Emma and I were greatly disturbed when we discovered that they were missing,” Kiyabu went on. “I asked Mr. Sakamaki about them, but he just smiled at me. ‘They are safe, Kiyabu,’ he said. ”But the executors have not been able to find any of them.”

 

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