Prospect for Murder (Natalie Seachrist Hawaiian Cozy Mystery 1)

by Burrows-Johnson, Jeanne; June, Yasamine;

  Setting it on the desk, I tipped the envelope until a small folding comb, a beeswax lip balm, and her watch tumbled out. It was a stainless steel Seiko diving watch Nathan had presented her upon graduation from high school. He had given Brianna a similar one, not out of laziness or an obsession about providing matchy-matchy accessories to the twins. Being sportswomen, he knew that they would appreciate the practicality and multiple features. Ariel had liked the simplicity of glancing down at her wrist, palm turned toward her, to view the classic positioning of the arrow-like hands presented in black by day and glowing green at night.

  No one would ever wear this watch again. Its band had dings in several places and was broken at one side of the clasp. Most depressing was the watch’s broken crystal, its dented casing, and its hands that were frozen at 16:30. Clearly, the ME had had no trouble in determining the time of her death.

  I knew there would be no keys. For transportation, she took the bus most of the time, precluding the need for car keys. She did not need a house key since Nathan’s home was unlocked by pressing the palm across a pad that read one’s print. He might be an old-fashioned guy in many ways, but not when it came to the security of his home or his adored granddaughters.

  The next items to come out of the envelope were a few coins and a small wad of folded money: a single dollar, two twenties, and the hundred dollar bill Nathan insisted the girls carry for an emergency tow if they drove their parents’ classic Chevy Malibu. I sighed, and we looked at each other, remembering when they had needed both of their stashes to get the car out of hock after the vehicle was towed when they neglected to feed a downtown parking meter.

  I tipped the envelope further and Ariel’s barrel bracelet rolled out onto the desk, in surprisingly pristine condition. It was a Navajo design in sterling silver, with blackening to emphasize the interwoven squash blossom design. Brianna had one too. They were expensive mementos the girls had bought when their outrigger canoe team participated in a paddling event in Arizona. Sliding out last was a delicate dangling loop earring that matched the bracelet. I shook the envelope, expecting its mate to appear. Nothing else came out. I bent back the flap, opened the envelope widely, and peered into its interior. There was one last item. It was not her earring.

  I reached in and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Even before I opened it, I recognized the security pattern of a check. It was number 1635—depressingly close numerically to the official time cited for Ariel’s death. Like the hundred dollar bills, Nathan had always encouraged the girls to have at least one check with them at all times, for unexpected expenses. This time, it was probably for a planned purchase, since Ariel might have needed to leave a deposit with Miss Wong, if she chose to move ahead with the lease.

  For a couple of minutes we all sat quietly, if not calmly. I looked at the earring on the table before me, then at Nathan’s bowed head. As I raised my eyes, I found Keoni staring at me intently. It did not take any kenning to know he was thinking exactly what I was—Why is there a single earring? Ariel was not into grunge, multiple body piercings or exotic displays of jewelry.

  In fact, she seldom wore dangling earrings because they might get in the way during a spur-of-the-moment tennis match. She had wanted to be on the UH tennis team. Although she was a keen player, tournaments would have interfered with her studies and volunteering in a program for elementary students at risk.

  “Uh, Marty,” I began. “I don’t see the second earring. It wasn’t Ariel’s style to wear just one, was it Nathan?”

  Nathan shook his head to the contrary.

  Marty responded, carefully. “We only found this one, in her right ear. I’m sorry to have to broach a painful topic. However, I need to ask you about the solitary earring because there are no rigid standards in today’s style norms, especially among the young.”

  Marty and Keoni passed looks. “So you’re confirming there should have been two earrings?”

  Nathan and I both nodded.

  “As you may have noticed in the report, her left ear lobe was torn, so we couldn’t be sure that it had been pierced like her right one was.”

  At that point, there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” invited Marty.

  In the doorway stood a short, stocky man with pocked face and salt and pepper hair.

  “I hope I’m not too early,” the man began.”

  “No, you’re right on time, John.” Marty replied. He then looked at us. “I have another case I have to check on now, but I’ll walk with you to the conference room.”

  Accordingly, we stood and Marty carefully replaced Ariel’s belongings in the brown envelope and handed it to the man I knew must be HPD Detective John Dias.

  Marty conducted introductions while we moved out of his office and down the hallway. Facing an open doorway, he paused. “I’m sorry to have to leave you. The Lieutenant has a copy of my report. And since I’ll be in the building, you can call me if you need further clarification.”

  He continued down the hall and the rest of us entered the spacious room that featured a large table and chairs, obviously intended for meetings larger than ours. At the head of the room were a drop down projection screen, a flat-screen television with video connections, chalk board, white board, podium with mike, and a larger-than-life human skeleton. In short, there were all the essentials for a day-long presentation on the mechanisms of death and dying. I wondered how many of the features we would be utilizing.

  The Lieutenant waved us toward the chairs at the head of the table, explaining, “Sergeant Ken`ichi Nakamura will join us momentarily with a presentation of his findings at the Makiki Sunset Apartments. I think you know him, Keoni, he’d just passed the sergeant’s exam when you retired.”

  “Mmm, yes I do. Wasn’t he the martial arts champion the department brought in to enhance cadet training?”

  “That’s right. Until he fractured his shoulder on a major drug bust, he was a leading contender in Japan’s Kendo competitions. Before that, you would have been amazed to watch him whip his shinai through the air.

  “What’s a shinai?” interjected Nathan, fully awake.

  CHAPTER 15

  …By doubting we come to the question…

  Pierre Abelard [1079-1142]

  The Lieutenant continued his explanation. “A shinai is a split bamboo sword. Once used as a practice sword, it’s now a distinct martial arts weapon. During his recovery, Ken`ichi started studying computer simulation software and cybercrime. That’s become his specialty. But unless he’s involved in a case calling for that skill set, we still pair up on a daily basis.”

  I looked to my left and right, at the men who were my compadres for the day. We settled into our seats, and John Dias said, “It seems empty to say, but I’m truly sorry for your loss. It’s especially tragic when it’s a young person with their whole life ahead of them.”

  Although he remained subdued, Nathan finally spoke, revealing more about himself than I had expected. “Natalie and I really appreciate what you’re all doing. I agree it’s difficult to find the right words for something this horrible. I saw a lot of sad situations in my work, but nothing could have prepared me for this. It’s been two weeks and I still expect Ariel to come dashing in at dinner time.”

  Lieutenant Dias nodded and sat down across from Nathan, Keoni and me. He laid the envelope with Ariel’s belongings on the table in front of him and his briefcase on the chair to his left. Snapping its latches open, he brought out a steno notepad, a small blue case notebook and a copy of the Coroner’s report. Looking over the report, he said, “First of all, since there were no signs of a struggle, or a suicide note, the case remains officially listed as an ‘unattended death.’ Knowing this, do either of you have any questions about the Coroner’s findings?”

  Nathan looked at me and I shook my head. “No, it was quite thorough—especially since there were no indications of pre-mortem
wounds.”

  “Mmhm,” concurred the Lieutenant. He looked at Keoni before continuing. “I know you’ve gone through Marty’s initial findings. Although you’ve seen Ariel’s personal belongings, I thought we might walk through everything one more time.”

  With care, he emptied the envelope and arranged everything in a straight line. “These items appear entirely normal for a young girl to have. But is there anything that stands out as unusual?”

  The first item was Ariel’s watch. The damage to it showed that something violent had occurred. But the source of its ruination appeared to be the result of Ariel’s impact with the car.

  Nathan looked at me but remained silent, obviously expecting me to respond for both of us. “In our meeting with Marty, we confirmed there should have been a second earring,” I replied.

  Keoni’s former partner stared at me silently for a moment and then opened the small notebook to his left. “I see that aside from her right shoe being found on the ground, and this bracelet on the antenna, nothing else of hers was found on the Mustang or the area surrounding the event.”

  “How can her bracelet look so perfect?” asked Nathan, pointing.

  “That’s a valid point, but it can be explained. When she…fell…it must have tumbled off her wrist and slipped down the antenna. It blended in so well with the polished chrome of the vehicle’s details, that we almost missed seeing it. It is amazing that the bracelet remained untouched in all the…commotion. I must say, except for the hood, car was nearly spotless.”

  For the first time, Keoni spoke up. “I think that’s due to the fact that the owner had just finished detailing the vehicle for a car show that was to be held that evening at Ala Moana Shopping Center.”

  We watched while John Dias paged through his small report notebook. “Yes, I see that was mentioned repeatedly by Mr. Cooper. He seems quite fond of that car, and is really upset that it hasn’t been returned to him.”

  I could not contain myself for an appropriate opening to broach the topic of Al. “There are a lot of things that appear to bother Al Cooper. You wouldn’t believe what Keoni and I heard him say last night.”

  Keoni gave my shoulder a squeeze. Both the Lieutenant and Nathan stared at me.

  “I guess there’s no better time to tell you what’s been transpiring. We’d had dinner and were standing on the lānai when Al pulled into his parking place.”

  “What do you mean? How could you have been standing anywhere near his parking place?” Nathan blurted out. “What on earth have you been up to, Natalie?”

  That answered the question of whether Nathan had any knowledge of my sleuthing. But it did not reveal whether he had been tuning in to other aspects of my dreams or visions.

  I looked at Keoni, whose blank face made it clear this revelation was strictly in my ball court. “You know that volunteering I’m doing on Wilder Avenue this summer?”

  Nathan nodded expectantly.

  “The other day, when I was doing some research for Keoni at the archives, I realized how much travel time I was going to spend on the bus…And…well…I thought that I could save some energy and maybe do a little…um…looking around, if I rented a unit at the Makiki Sunset Apartments for the summer.”

  John Dias let Nathan do the questioning, but continued to look at me intently.

  “You mean to say that you are living at the apartments where Ariel died?” said Nathan with an escalating pitch to his voice.

  Fudging a bit on the details, I continued. “Uh, yes. I was in the area and when I passed the apartment complex, I saw there was a vacancy sign. And then, when I visited with the manager, Pearl Wong, she seemed to think I was someone else…who was looking for an apartment for her granddaughter…and…things just developed after that conversation.”

  Nathan ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head.

  I started to choke. Keoni squeezed my shoulder and slid a box of tissues to me that I had not noticed was sitting on the conference table.

  The lieutenant decided it was time to move forward with his official inquiries. Clearing his throat, he politely asked, “You are currently living at the Makiki Sunset Apartments?”

  “Yes. Keoni helped me move to where Ariel died on Thursday.”

  John Dias then gave Keoni a questioning look. I quickly said, “It wasn’t Keoni’s fault. He didn’t want me to do it, but I’d already signed a short-term lease and paid for three months.”

  “Oh I’m sure it wasn’t Keoni’s fault, Natalie,” said Nathan with a rising tone. “But what on earth gave you the lame-brained idea to move yourself into the place that caused Ariel’s death? We don’t even know if it was an accident…or… if she was murdered.”

  Keoni responded. “I couldn’t have stopped her from doing what she’d already set in motion. But I cautioned her about her safety and we speak several times a day. Yesterday I had a chance to tour the complex—something I could not have done if Natalie wasn’t a tenant. Like you’ve said JD, this is an open case with no clear indication of the cause of the girl’s death.”

  I jumped back into the conversation. “You need to hear what Al Cooper said last night. He didn’t even know Ariel, but he hated her. For some reason I can’t fathom, he thinks she was a lesbian and that she didn’t deserve to live on God’s good earth. He even quoted what sounded like a Bible verse as he was slamming the door of his rental car and marching off last night.”

  Lieutenant Dias rapidly wrote a couple of lines on his notepad before saying, “Mmm. So, I take it you’re living in an apartment on an upper floor—if Cooper wasn’t aware you two were listening to him.”

  “Yes. I, um, ended up renting apartment B406.”

  “Did you say unit B406? The apartment Ariel was looking at?” asked the detective.

  “Yes, Lieutenant. That’s the apartment Miss Wong took me to see. She had to remove scraps of police tape to open the door.”

  “At this point, Natalie, let’s dispense with formalities. Please call me John, and I’ll call you Miss Marple.”

  I smiled wanly.

  The detective looked across at Keoni and me, and then at Nathan. “Well, Nathan, I guess you and I are both learning a lot today.”

  Nathan grimaced and shook his head again.

  Keoni then offered his concern about the violence that Al had evidenced in both his words and demeanor. “I was thinking of calling a couple of guys I know who have vintage cars and might be involved in the car events Cooper participates in.”

  “That’s a good idea, Keoni. I’ll appreciate the names and numbers of any contacts you find,” said the Lieutenant, confirming his role as the person of authority in the investigation.

  At that moment the door opened, and a tall, thin Japanese man with black hair pulled back in a ponytail entered the room with a briefcase in one hand and a laptop in the other.

  “Sorry to be late, I was editing some footage for today.” He set everything at the head of the table, and came around to shake hands with each of us. After introducing himself as Detective Sergeant Ken`ichi Nakamura, he nodded to Keoni and shook hands with Nathan and me. He then began connecting his computer to the room’s video equipment.

  “We have some new information to work with, Ken`ichi. It seems Natalie has signed up to be our on-site eyes and ears,” said John Dias.

  Completing preparations for his presentation, the Sergeant mumbled “Mmhm” indifferently.

  “Yes, she’s actually living in unit B406 at the Makiki Sunset Apartments,” continued the Lieutenant.

  “Oh?” replied the Sergeant, clicking on a screen filled with the HPD logo. “Ooh. I see,” he said, now looking up at all of us. “Well…I’ve brought a video of the grounds, the two buildings in the complex and the apartment itself, but maybe it’s irrelevant.”

  “Not everyone has seen the place,” noted his boss. “I think Nathan might app
reciate being able to reference what the rest of us are talking about.”

  Sergeant Nakamura looked at each of us with a rather blank look on his face.

  “Like I said, Ken`ichi, Natalie’s moved into the apartment her grandniece was considering renting. And Keoni, the valiant knight in shining armor that he is, has given the site a wee glance or two,” clarified John Dias. “So if you’re ready, why don’t you take us through the property.”

  “Mmhm,” was the Sergeant’s only response.

  I could not see Keoni’s face, but his neck looked crimson. I had a feeling he would soon be doing some explaining to his friends at HPD.

  The Sergeant then repositioned the podium to the side of the large drop-down screen, placed a few notes on it, turned on a laser pointer, and began his presentation.

  “First of all, I obtained blueprints of the complex from Miss Pearl Wong, owner and manager of the apartments where the deceased died. There have been few alterations to the site through the years—aside from her modification of two units she has combined for her personal use. As you will note, the layout is fairly typical for this type of building. I won’t bother repeating dimensions since they are on the drawings and most of you are familiar with the site.

  “The complex is comprised of two four-storey cement-block buildings facing onto a courtyard. The property is edged with parking on three sides. The back of the property is bordered by several lemon and plumeria trees. There is a barbecue area near the tree line; there are two large, standing hibachis flanking one wooden picnic table with attached benches on its two long sides. In addition, there are four white plastic tables. We counted ten white stackable plastic chairs, but I’m told volleyball players and residents frequently borrow them, so the number is subject to fluctuation.”

  Within a few minutes, I had trouble focusing on the details of his methodical reporting. I wondered if a boost in sugar level would help my concentration. Pulling out my stash of snacks from my bag, I set them on the table for everyone to help themselves. Munching an energy bar and sipping the remains of my water bottle, I managed to survive the detailed description of the complex’s amenities. I knew that if Pearl Wong had been present, she would have beamed with pride of ownership.