Prospect for Murder (Natalie Seachrist Hawaiian Cozy Mystery 1)

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Prospect for Murder (Natalie Seachrist Hawaiian Cozy Mystery 1) Page 22

by Burrows-Johnson, Jeanne; June, Yasamine;


  “Well tonight, this mango pudding is high on my list of unbelievable desserts,” I said grinning.

  She answered with a smile as she finished a coconut ball. “In every respect, we were treated splendidly aboard the ship and at every port of call the ship made. Not knowing the difference between a royal personage and someone merely rich or famous, the locals who conducted the overland tours were attentive to our every desire. Although we were young, we enjoyed the five-day trip to Bĕijīng and ten-day cruise around Japan very much. Jade could read a bit of English and with a bit of prompting from Chú Huā, she proudly told me what the Shore Excursion Programs promised. Amazingly, Jade still has one of those programs, as well as an invitation card for a cocktail hour that Chú Huā did not have time to accept.”

  “I know how that is. Sometimes, when I was on a tour, I simply couldn’t attend all the scheduled functions.” Despite the fact that I should be clamoring for her to bring us into present day living at the Makiki Sunset Apartments, I was delighted to be relieved of my burdens for one evening.

  “We played our way through the five-day crossing of the Pacific, giving little thought to what our new lives would be like. Finally, we arrived in Honolulu on March the twelfth. Boat Day was another festive day with thousands of streamers and confetti, dancers of hula and young boys diving into the water for coins. It was the first time I heard the Royal Hawaiian Band and I loved their uniforms as well as their music. It may sound silly today, but you cannot imagine the impact of a fantasia of mu’u’mu’us and the pervading scent of fresh leis in the air had on us.

  “It was also a very special time for the denizens of the city who gathered at the harbor to welcome the newcomers and their money which was needed to strengthen the local economy. We were warmly greeted not by strangers, but by many of our cousins who came to welcome us. Some lived in Honolulu, but several had come from Maui for the adventure of meeting their new-found family members. On that first day of our new life, our Hawaiian family fawned over us and showered us with special gifts. Soon we were choked with beautiful leis crowding up to our chins and our hands were full of toys and pillows with Hawaiian appliqué quilt squares.

  “Before we left the harbor to enter our life in this Pacific paradise, we observed an unusual event. Although Chú Huā Lee was considered a servant in China, evidently she was more highly regarded here. As we waited with our family for our luggage to be unloaded, we looked toward the Aloha Tower. There we saw our amah being formally greeted by two men we later learned were political leaders in the Territory of Hawai`i—one of whom would become governor within a couple of years of our arrival. As she nodded slightly to them, they formally tipped their hats to her. Next, she shook the hand of each man. Then, reaching into what we had thought was simply a needlework bag, she brought out a small box tied in string and one large envelope which she handed to them.

  “None of this meant much to us at the time. Later, when we were going through some files, we found a torn airmail envelope addressed to our father in China from the Territory of Hawai`i. The scrap was very soiled and its postmark was smudged and torn, but we could read the first three numbers of its date…195. It was the only indication that our father may have survived the war. But the mysteries of what the correspondence was and why it was found in our home were never answered.”

  Finishing my last piece of dim sum, I asked, “You never saw him after leaving China?”

  “No. It is the great sorrow and mystery of our lives.”

  Rising, Pearl walked to the dining table and poured two glasses of Avinyo Brut Cava. I did not see the vintage, but it was clearly not a wine I would have another opportunity to taste in the near future.

  After we toasted the evening, she continued. “It might have been expected that we would live with someone in our father’s family. But our father was an only child and we did not have first cousins with whom we could bond as siblings. Perhaps for this reason, our father decided that we should remain in the care of our amah. Therefore, we moved into a small bungalow in central Honolulu, where we lived at home while attending St. Andrew’s Priory School for Girls.

  “So, there we were, or are, in Hawai`i. The years have passed so quickly…Initially our life in the Islands was uneventful and easy. Through our youth, we lived in our home with Chú Huā, who would call out to us jointly, Come here my zhū yù, my pearl and jade. Our weekdays were filled with school and homework. On weekends, we went to Waikīkī and often swam at the Natatorium. During summer holidays, we sometimes visited our father’s family on Maui.

  “But it was not all bliss. Jade and I soon realized that the war we had escaped had spread its arms to ensnare everyone in our lives. We may not have understood the specifics of what was happening, but we knew our father was in a terrible spot. Snippets of news periodically arrived to jolt our personal awareness of the growing global hostilities. We watched with sadness as the countries that had once bought our family’s goods were gobbled up by the Axis Powers.

  “And with considerable sorrow, we learned that the magical ship that had brought us to Hawai`i was sunk by German aircraft and submarines in 1940. Once I heard Chú Huā discussing the sad state of the Jewish ghetto in the Hongkou district of Shànghăi with our family lawyer. She questioned the safety of the men who had created much of the beautiful jewelry sold by our family business.

  “The details of their conversation were disturbing, even to a young girl like me. Euphemistically called ‘The Restricted Sector for Stateless Refugees,’ the Jewish ghetto was supervised by the occupying Japanese Army. Their behavior was influenced, if not determined by, the Nazis’ hatred of the Jewish people. Clearly the authorities felt no remorse for the overcrowding, poor sanitation, and lack of food in the ghetto. Much later I learned that it was only the in-pouring of international support that kept the number of wartime deaths of Shànghăi Jews to about two thousand.”

  “Such facts are difficult for adults, let alone children, to absorb.”

  “Yes, that is true. We did not understand the fullness of the war’s atrocities until we were adults. Of course, war arrived on our doorstep in a personal way on December seventh of Nineteen Hundred and Forty-one. The schools were closed until February, and even our amah helped with nursing those who were wounded on the day of the attack on Pearl Harbor.”

  There was nothing I could say in response to that, so I merely shook my head. At that moment, my cell phone rang. I smiled apologetically, and reached into my handbag. I saw that the caller was Margie O’Hara. Abruptly, I decided that this was the ideal moment for me to conclude my evening with Pearl.

  I answered quickly, “Margie, it’s so good to hear from you, but I need to call you back shortly.”

  I hung up and looked over at Pearl, who was politely staring into her glass. “I’m so sorry Pearl. This is a dear friend who is visiting Honolulu for only a couple of days, and I need to finalize plans to see her. But I hate to end our wonderful evening. You can’t imagine how much I have appreciated the opportunity to simply rest for one evening…and of course, to get to know you better.”

  “Think nothing of it my dear. I know the strain involved with any move.”

  “I look forward to another, recent chapter when I have you to my home, soon.”

  “Indeed, Natalie. I too shall look forward to it. Enjoy seeing your friend and once you have gotten settled in, we will plan something.”

  She walked me to the door, and I departed feeling relaxed and at ease. Unfortunately, the sensation did not last long. Walking toward the staircase, I again felt the eyes and thoughts of someone focused on me, and I did not think they were well meaning.

  CHAPTER 18

  By seeking we may come upon the truth.

  Pierre Abelard [1079-1142]

  Even though it was early evening when I left Pearl Wong’s, I felt as though I had lived a week in the last twenty-four hours. Our cocktail hour had been an
other non-event where the mystery of Ariel’s death was concerned. I knew I should call Keoni to confess my afternoon of playing detective. But despite the logic, I could not face relaying all the details without a good night’s rest.

  I hoped that Miss Una was as exhausted as I was and would permit me to crash. After walking out of my shoes at the front door, I went immediately into the bedroom. There I found my darling roommate curled up in her catsack with only a pair of black tufted ears showing. She moved slightly and poked one eye out to confirm I was present and accounted for. Of course, that reminded me that to fail to check on her food supply would be a major misstep. Turning around with a sigh, I dragged myself into the kitchen. I poured a glass of water for myself, filled her water bowl, and placed a dollop of wet food on a plate beside her dry food.

  That completed my chores for the evening...Except for calling Margie to delay confirming plans to meet with her and Dan. I then realized I had not checked my messages all day. By the time I had written notes of the calls I needed to return, I was slightly more awake. But not enough to remain upright for very long. After a quick glance at the slider’s security rod, I returned to the “master suite” about which Pearl was so proud. After a quick wash of face and teeth, I pulled on a cotton nightie and crawled in beside Miss Una. After today’s multiple adventures, I was too drained for my ritual of night-time reading. I think I fell asleep immediately after laying my head on the pillow. Best of all, I passed the night without any memorable dreams.

  When I awoke, I was suffering from a headache. I knew it had been brought on by the emotional highs and lows of the previous couple of days. Coffee or tea? Which would be more soothing? I knew better than to take an analgesic on an empty stomach, so I opted for a cup of yogurt, half a bagel and a large cup of tea laced with almond milk and cinnamon. After that, I had a water chaser with a couple of OTC pain pills. Then it was back to a darkened bedroom with an icepack for half an hour. This little routine has worked for years, allowing me to avoid the short-term prescriptions some of my friends have taken.

  In less than an hour, I returned to a state of near-normalcy. Showered and dressed, I sat down at the dinette table and listened to voicemail messages from both my condo and cell phones. I was glad that after the volume of the day before, this morning’s crop were few and inconsequential. Looking over my notes, I focused on the few that required immediate attention.

  The first call I made was to Anna. After ascertaining that I was safe, she listed the mail she was considering forwarding to me. To simplify life for both of us, I gave her a blanket authorization to send any mail she thought was important and hold the rest until I came for a visit…or returned home permanently. My next concern was Nathan. I was glad I was able to respond to his questions about food and entertainment for the memorial quickly. Thankfully, he was silent about my temporary abode. Finally, there was a call from Margie.

  “Hey, Natalie. It’s Margie. Sorry we’re playing phone tag, but I know you have a lot to keep you busy. Dan and I want you to know that while we miss seeing you, we’re enjoying our time at the Halekulani Hotel. I don’t think I mentioned that our son Ronny has made Lieutenant Commander. Since he’s single, there’s no reason to delay the promotion ceremony and he’s asked to have it here. So tomorrow, we’ll be taking a little break from the sand and surf to head over to the Naval Station to watch the big event.

  “Well, I guess that’s all our news. Give us a call when you can. I know you’ve said there’s nothing we can do to help at the moment, but please let us know if that changes. We’re still hoping to see you before we return home, but you know we’ll be on the next plane to Honolulu whenever you and Nathan are able to hold the memorial for Ariel.”

  I was disappointed to have to pass on the RIMPAC gatherings and Ron’s promotion, but I knew Margie and Dan understood my predicament. It was one thing to put on a nice dress and chat with Pearl Wong about a time and place I never knew. It would be another to try and pretend my life was sublime…or worse, to have to share the details of my current reality.

  After researching photo printing businesses, I prepared to reorganize my never ending to-do lists. After sitting down in the recliner with a fresh cup of tea, several notebooks and a pen, I spent a while scribbling furiously. As I set my writing materials aside, I looked across the room. Noting the laundry basket sitting by the front door, it took little thought to determine my next course of action.

  Planned or not, laundry day had arrived. Deciding to make the most of the trek down to the laundry room, I added another load to my basket. Oh, the joy of having a washer and dryer in your house. I walked back into the bedroom and gathered the catsack and my bed linens.

  Making sure Miss Una was on in her cat perch by the back door, I quickly slipped out the front, down the stairs, and along the paving stones to the laundry room. The set-up was pretty good, except for the challenge of carrying baskets up and down stairs. Surprisingly, there were even benches, padded metal chairs, and rolling carts with racks on which to hang clothes.

  Reading the signs, I saw that I had sufficient coins for the two thirty-five-minute wash cycles I was doing, but not enough for the drying. Once the washers were noisily gyrating, I went back up to the apartment for more change and my notepad.

  When I returned to the laundry room, I found I was not alone. Mrs. Espinoza was already approaching the conclusion of a mega wash day. As I watched, she deftly moved three loads of laundry from washers into a rolling cart already sporting several dresses neatly displayed on hangers.

  “Good morning, my dear,” she said with a bob of her tight curls and her usual open smile.

  “Why, hello Mrs. Espinoza. It looks like you’ve got this down to a science.”

  “Hardly. I imagine it would be easier to do just a couple of loads at a time, but I’m too lazy to bother with laundry more than every two weeks.”

  I then checked the time on my two loads. Turning back to Mrs. Espinoza, I remarked, “I wouldn’t call that lazy, simply a good use of your time and energy. If I could afford it, I’d be tempted to hire someone to do my laundry. But if you do that you’ve not only spent a lot of money, but possibly more time than doing it yourself.”

  We completed our tasks with mutual laughter and moved toward a bench at the front of the room. I looked over and saw she had brought out some complicated needle work.

  “That’s beautiful. May I ask what you’re making?”

  “Oh, nothing fancy. It’s a new petite pointe seat cover for the vanity in my bedroom. I’ll give it to my granddaughter eventually. She loves lavender roses.”

  “She’s a lucky girl. I’m sure she’ll treasure it. The colors of the flowers are so rich.”

  “Yes, they are. I’ve tried to match my memories of the roses I grew along the fence of our home on Kauai.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you’d lived on Kauai. Somehow I thought you and Mr. Espinoza had always lived on the North Shore.”

  She shook her head. “A lot of people think that, what with the Sugar Plantation Village Museum out there. But as plantations closed across the state, older workers were retired and if the younger ones were lucky, they moved on to another plantation.”

  “If I may ask, Mrs. Espinoza, how long have you lived here?”

  “Well, my dear, my husband and I arrived here shortly after he retired from the Kauai Plantation back in the 1990s. You see, the kids had already moved here for school and work. After my Benny’s retirement, there was nothing to keep us on Kauai. Most of our friends had already left. And with five kids, we’d never been able to save the money to buy a home there.”

  “I know what you mean about the price of real estate. I’m lucky I bought my condo when I found the real estate market had cooled while I was on a nine-month stint overseas.”

  “How lucky you were. After the husband of my friend Leana Kamaka died, she had come to O`ahu where she worked for the Wong siste
rs for several years. She thought we’d like this bit of green in the middle of the city. She was right. We enjoyed living here from the very beginning. Unfortunately, my Benny lived only three years after we signed our first lease.

  “It was his lungs. All that chaff blowing in the wind all those years. He’d always had breathing problems. He was what used to be called a “blue baby” at birth. He wasn’t very strong as a boy. But although he couldn’t do a lot of heavy work, there was one job he could perform on the plantation. You see, many of the plantation workers who’d come from Portugal were animal handlers. That’s what Benny’s dad had been—until machinery replaced the livestock. So when he was a young man, my Benny followed in his father’s footsteps.

  “You must really miss him, Mrs. Espinoza.”

  “Now don’t you feel bad for me. My Benny and I had many good years together. And this little apartment is exactly what I need to keep my independence. I’m much luckier than Jade Bishop, despite all her money. There she is, stuck in that big cold building. Surrounded by only the people she hires to do for her. I have friends here. And there are all the young people coming and going—not to mention my grandchildren and a great grandchild—to keep me feeling young.”

  Being a new tenant, I could easily slip in questions about the apartments. “You seem to know everyone here pretty well,” I said, hoping to widen the conversation.

  “Oh, yes. My Leana died several years ago, but there’s Pearl Wong, and her nephew. I guess the proper word would be ‘step-nephew,’ since Richard is not Jade’s son by birth. Anyway, Richard has been here since the beginning. And then there are the Mitchells; they’re in A303. Bob was a sergeant in the Army until he retired. For several years, he stayed on at Fort Shafter as a cook. His Emma was a nurse, until her hands got bad with arthritis. They’ve talked about moving to Arizona, or anywhere that’s drier, but they love it here and it would be very hard on them to make such a long distance move now that they’re older. Maybe if one of them passes, the other will want to go to their daughter’s. But for now they’re content.”

 

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