Prospect for Murder (Natalie Seachrist Hawaiian Cozy Mystery 1)

by Burrows-Johnson, Jeanne; June, Yasamine;

  Moving through the decades, I occasionally found a reference to the elder Bishop’s law practice. But I found nothing else about this branch of the Bishop family. Regardless of this omission, facial features seldom belie the truth. Of course, he could be of mixed ancestry. Perhaps like many of the early missionary families, he was part Hawaiian.

  I had heard him referred to as Jade’s “stepson,” so without newspaper announcements to the contrary, he was probably the biological offspring of an earlier marriage of Richard senior. Of course, he could have been adopted or even be a keiki hānai. But this informal form of fostering or adopting children within Hawaiian families was beyond the scope of my expertise. Even if that was true, it was unlikely to have been mentioned in routine news reports.

  With research related to the Makiki Sunset Apartments at a standstill, I shifted gears again. After considering search terms that might relate to Keoni’s family home, I renewed my exploration of the Queen Lydia Lili`u`okalani Elementary School. I soon recognized that the Queen’s participation in the groundbreaking and dedication of the school were newsworthy events that would have caught the attention of people at every level of society.

  Too soon, I heard the public address system announce that the library was closing. Since I was not going to the airport to greet Brianna, I had plenty of time to get home and tidy the apartment for whatever guests the weekend might bring. There was no way of knowing if Brianna would arrive alone, with Nathan, or with friends of hers and Ariel’s. Regardless of who else might be coming, I was glad that she would be meeting Keoni.

  CHAPTER 20

  The fox condemns the trap, not himself.

  William Blake [1757 E-1827]

  We had enjoyed beautiful weather during the last few weeks, but that Sunday a gusty storm blew in. It arrived with a bang of thunder and progressed from intermittent sprinkles to sporadic downpours. I was glad the day’s activities would be indoors. The morning passed peacefully as I prepared to work with Brianna on preparations for celebrating Ariel’s short life.

  I was looking forward to our time together. Since her return to college after the holidays, we had communicated by phone fairly often and video conferenced when I was at Nathan’s home. Despite this closeness, Nathan and I had resisted Brianna’s repeated requests to return to the Islands after her twin’s death.

  Listening to Sunday Brunch on our local NPR radio station, I cleared a workspace on the dinette table. With everything prepared for the day, I sat in my recliner for a brief rest. Miss Una leapt onto my lap and I was reminded I had more than one personality to introduce to my grandniece. I looked around the apartment, thinking of my reasons for being there. I realized that although I had not determined the cause of Ariel’s death, I could provide a supportive environment for Brianna to see where her twin’s death had occurred.

  Miss Una soon tired of having her fur rearranged and sprang onto the chair’s back. I then leaned back to enjoy a relaxing cat nap. When the doorbell rang, my housemate alerted me that someone was about to enter our kingdom. I stood, fluffed my hair and trotted to the door.

  “Come in, my dear,” I said pulling Brianna into a desperate hug. Even though I was uncertain about the nature of her twin’s death, and how it might relate to her, I felt a genuine relief to have her back home. Brushing aside a few tears, I stepped back to look at her. Aside from a darkening around her eyes, she looked good.

  “I’m so glad to see you, home and safe,” I affirmed.

  She grabbed my hands and squeezed them. “Me, too, Aunt Natalie. I’m sorry Grandpa Nathan isn’t here, but…he’s not up to being where…Ariel…died.”

  “I understand, honey. It’s been unbelievably hard for all of us.”

  Wiggling out of her sandals, Brianna followed me through the living room to the table where she set several slightly damp carryalls. The photo shop I used is open every day of the week, so Brianna had been able to pick up the pictures I had left for enlargement, matting and framing.

  Looking around in a near daze, she struggled for words. “It looks so normal…like nothing awful had happened here.”

  “I really didn’t want to talk about Ariel’s case today, but you should know that she did not die here. Her death had nothing to do with the apartment…itself.”

  “What do you mean, Aunt Natalie?”

  I took a deep breath. “Sweetheart, she did not fall from this apartment’s lānai. I believe she fell from the beverage alcove next door.”

  “Oh.”

  “As you can imagine, the police are doing everything they can to solve the case. But there have been no results from their investigation to date,” I revealed.

  “So that’s why you’re here? To help?”

  “Well, I’m not sure that’s how everyone else looks at it. But, yes, that’s why I came here.”

  Nearly in tears she said, “Oh, Aunt Natalie. I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been going through. You should have let me come earlier.”

  “Honey, there isn’t anything you could have done. There’s really nothing any of us can do, but take one day at a time.” I said, giving her another hug.

  Pointing across the room to the guest bath, I suggested she freshen up before we started our work. I was glad to have told her where the investigation stood. It meant that I didn’t have to worry about keeping my recent activities a secret any longer. When she emerged from the bathroom looking a little less wan, I tried to get the day back on track.

  “I know you’ve had breakfast, but would you like some tea, or maybe a decadent mug of coffee with brandy and chocolate sauce?”

  “Well, that’s an easy choice. You make the best lazy man’s cappuccino.” she laughed.

  I made our drinks without espresso, as Brianna assembled photos and display materials.

  “Aunt Natalie, they’re all so awesome.” Touching the corner of the centerpiece that featured Ariel’s high school graduation picture, Brianna sighed. “She’s so beautiful. She looks like she’s going to walk out of the frame. It’s so hard to believe she’s gone,” she said, ending with a moan.

  I patted her shoulder and debated adding a second shot of brandy to her mug. I bit my lip rather than observe that except for the sun-kissed tendrils of her twin’s hair, she looked exactly like Ariel.

  With mugs and notebooks in hand we sat down in the living room. After discussing the furnishings in Nathan’s living and dining rooms, we considered the placement of photos and mementos, and a remembrance book for guests to enter greetings. The main gathering would be in the garden facing the ocean. With all the flowers and shrubs in Nathan’s yard, we had asked friends to donate to local charities in lieu of bringing floral arrangements. Aside from setting out tables and chairs, little preparation was needed. But with an event starting at sunset, we would light torches to augment the lights strung permanently around the trunks of the palm trees.

  Brianna summarized the basic menu that Nathan and the Souzas had planned, knowing many guests would bring a favorite dish for the buffet. To make everyone feel part of the celebration, when we started the food line, we would ask each “chef” to tell a story of Ariel enjoying the dish they had brought to share.

  Our last topic was music. A DJ who was a friend of the twins would set up his equipment under the roof of the lānai. In addition to playing Ariel’s favorite pieces, he would take requests. There were also a few solo musicians the twins knew who would play in rotation in the large foyer. I was relieved that Brianna, as always, was as organized as my mother had been. We had barely completed our planning session when it was time to shift gears.

  Promptly at one p.m., Keoni rang the bell. I opened the door and he stepped inside quickly, as the wind was blowing rather strongly. We hugged lightly and he walked over to introduce himself to Brianna and express his sorrow for the loss of her twin.

  “Not knowing what Island delights you might be missing on
the mainland, I brought some chili from Zippy’s.”

  “Thanks, Keoni. It smells great. I can get chili in Oregon, but it’s not the same as Zippy’s. And do you know how hard it is to find steamed white rice on a mainland breakfast menu? This morning, I had a loco moco. Mmm, the hamburger patty was almost medium rare and the sunny-side-up egg on rice with gravy was awesome!”

  We all laughed, moving toward the kitchen. I clicked on the rice cooker as Brianna put my pictures and scrapbooks in one carryall and the finished display materials into others.

  “Where should I put your photos and albums, Aunt Natalie?” asked Brianna.

  “Why don’t you leave everything that’s going home with you at the front door and drop the materials I’m keeping on my bed? In fact, Keoni can give you the grand tour of my home away from home while I set out our lunch.”

  “I’m delighted to serve in any way I can,” Keoni replied.

  As the two of them began wandering through the apartment, I turned to the kitchen. When they arrived at the table, I had set out a large spinach salad with sliced mango, fresh bread, and a pitcher of iced mango blossom tea. Next I carried in bowls of rice topped with the chili Keoni had brought. During the meal, we talked about common interests, ignoring the elephant in the room―the death which had brought us together. After lunch, I poured more tea for everyone and took a plate of Chinese almond cookies to the living room for a final chat. Keoni again took the recliner, and Brianna joined me on the sofa.

  “Keoni, aside from your meeting Brianna, I wanted you to come today so I could report on the research I’ve conducted on your family home.

  “Great. But I don’t see how you’ve had time to do anything for me.”

  “Your project has provided welcome breaks from everything else. Twice I thought I’d found something to convince your relatives to keep the house. First, I learned that the passing of Halley’s Comet in 1910 was an event that brought people from every background and social strata into the area. You see, the best viewing of the comet was at an observatory built on land donated by the Kaimukī Improvement Association and operated by the College of Hawai`i. It was up on Ocean View Drive, near Diamond Head. But despite my best efforts I found no record mentioning your family or their home.

  “A second event was much more promising because it united everyday citizens with the scions of Island society. This was the construction of an elementary school named for Queen Lili`u`okalani. She even helped lay the cornerstone in April of 1912, for which she donated copies of her autobiography, her translation of the Hawaiian Creation Chant, and sheet music for some of her compositions. She also attended the school’s opening later in the year. Beloved as she was, I knew these events were popular and that there could be some connection to your family.”

  “Wow, this is really interesting. And it’s amazing how it fits in with what I learned from my Aunt Betty this morning,” said Keoni with a smile.

  “You see; yesterday several family members were sprucing up the house. As my Auntie B pulled a framed quilt square of the Hawaiian flag off the wall to clean it, she found some papers tacked onto the back. You won’t believe what she found. Printed on official stationery, was a note from either Queen Lili`u`okalani or someone acting as her social secretary. It thanked my great-grandmother for the welcome glass of tea she offered her Majesty one day when the Queen’s car got a flat tire during a tour of the new community in Kaimukī. It also referenced a small token of her appreciation that would be delivered shortly. It’s too bad the note is water stained, and neither the date nor the signature is legible.”

  “Awesome,” declared Brianna, while I merely nodded.

  Keoni continued with his family’s discovery. “Beside the royal note was a newspaper clipping from the October 15, 1912, edition of the Hawaiian Gazette. It was a long piece discussing the opening of the Queen Lydia Lili`u`okalani Elementary School. Penned in the margin was a comment by my great-grandmother stating that although the Queen had looked ‘poorly,’ it was wonderful to see her again.”

  “Do you think the quilt square was the token the Queen spoke of?” asked Brianna.

  “I don’t know,” answered Keoni. “We’d like to think so, but I doubt there’s any way of knowing for sure. What do you think, Natalie?”

  “I’m with Bri—that it’s an awesome find. Following annexation to the United States, depicting the Hawaiian flag in quilts was one of the few ways that Hawaiian Kingdom loyalists were allowed to visually express love for their formerly sovereign nation.

  “Of course, I don’t know that you could find anything to establish if the quilt square’s provenance is really linked to the Queen. In studying some of the events in the Queen’s later life, I realize how difficult it would be to prove elements of your story. One thing I do know is that after 1912, her health and constitution as it was then called would’ve made it difficult for her to take a casual tour around the island.

  “So, if the Queen met anyone in your family, it would have been before the school was built, but after her trip to Washington, D.C. in 1900. That trip was remarkable. With dignity and clarity, she beseeched Congress and the president to restore the rights of her people and reverse annexation of the Kingdom of Hawai`i.

  “By the way, the Queen appreciated innovation and loved to ride in her car (which she called her ‘locomobile’). However, she never traveled without an entourage and there were protocols for interacting with royalty. I doubt that she would have been allowed to drink something casually offered by a commoner in public. Nevertheless, I think the mystery adds to the story’s charm. I hope your family appreciates the possibility, if not the probability, of its historical significance.”

  “You can bet on that. I think that for the time being, they’ll remove the furnishings—especially that framed quilt square—and just rent the house. Who knows, maybe someday another Hewitt will live in the home.”

  We all concurred that this was a great example of how a footnote in history can inspire the preservation of a family’s heritage. It was then time for our gathering to break up. Brianna opened the door and turned back to hug Keoni and me. I stepped out to watch her depart. She was driving into Waikīkī to join a few friends for drinks before returning home to help Nathan begin sorting Ariel’s belongings.

  Ignoring the drizzle of rain, I stood watching Brianna pause at the stairs for one last look across the apartment complex. Again I was struck by how much she and Ariel resembled one another—a fact often heightened by identical elements in their wardrobes, even when purchased separately. In her white polo shirt and shorts, and long copper colored hair Brianna unknowingly looked the image of her twin on that last fateful day.

  After a final wave, I turned to rejoin Keoni inside. Just then, Miss Una scooted out the door and ran toward the refreshment alcove. A moment later, she came trotting back pursued by Richard Bishop, who walked out of the alcove with a wrench in one hand and his tool bag in the other. “I thought you said this cat wouldn’t be a bother,” he called out to us with a frown.

  At a crack of thunder, he stared past us at Brianna. “You can’t be here!” he mouthed softly. With rising pitch, he said, “You’re not real.” Then in a softer voice, “I…I’m having another nightmare.” Dropping his tool bag, he walked in measured steps toward the Ariel look-alike who clearly terrified him.

  Hearing the agitated voice, Brianna turned back toward the apartment.

  The pupils of Richard’s eyes were clearly dilated. They seemed glued to Brianna’s bracelet, a near twin of the one Ariel had been wearing on the day of her death. He shook his head and spoke in a hoarse stage whisper, “It was an accident. I couldn’t help what happened. I needed a fix. One minute I’m pulling out my stash, and the next you’re on top of me.”

  With those words, he moved swiftly past me and toward Brianna. Frozen in place, I could not believe what I was hearing. Keoni pried the door from my clenched fingers
. Obviously, he had heard what I did. He moved calmly to my side. We looked at each other and I could feel the controlled tension coming from his stiffened body. He nudged past me, thrusting his cell phone into my hands with a curt nod toward it.

  I knew what he wanted me to do—call the police. But for a moment, I stared at the horror of the scene unfolding before me, praying it would not end the way Ariel’s encounter with Richard had. Brianna looked confused. She pushed her hair back from her face and peered through the increasing rainfall to note the wrench in Richard’s hand. As he quickened his pace, she knew something was wrong and began running down the stairs.

  Moving like a magnet toward her, Richard pleaded in alternating tones of voice. Clearly he would do anything to eradicate the apparition that had entered his realm of daily existence.

  Beginning his own descent, he said, “I…I didn’t mean to do it. You scared me, standing over me like that.”

  Up to this point Keoni had been trying to overtake Richard with a steady stride. But as the man plunged downward after Brianna, Keoni picked up speed and began taking the stairs two at a time. Unfortunately, at the bottom he slipped in a puddle of muddy water. When he tried to regain momentum, it was clear his left ankle was hurting.

  From the top of the stairs, I watched the rush of bodies onto the volleyball court as I pushed 911. Since Keoni was not close enough to be assured of stopping Richard’s uncertain intentions, it was good that Brianna was well ahead of the man. “Connect me to the Police Department. I need help at the Makiki Sunset Apartments. There’s a crazed addict chasing a girl he thinks is the girl he murdered a couple of weeks ago. Another murder is going to happen if you don’t get here right away.”