“Yeah,” Corky continued, “and guess who Hank calls then to cover it?”
Hank grinned. “Get yourself some bars, and then you can get someone to do your dirty work.”
“Actually, I didn’t mind. Alan and I were just sitting around listening to music.”
“At half-past twelve in the morning!” Hank exclaimed. “You two must be out of your minds.”
Corky laughed. “Hank thinks anyone who doesn’t go to bed with the chickens is depraved. I was glad he wasn’t along when I went out to the scene. He’d have just fallen asleep in the car. Actually we didn’t need him. Homicide lieutenants come apart when they can’t find a body.” She looked at Laura and asked, “You read the report, didn’t you?”
Laura nodded.
“There’s no question but that Kimo hit something, actually somebody,” Corky continued, “but he must have been drunker than what his blood test indicated. Corpses don’t get up and walk away. It was human blood on the fender and on the street, but there’s no way of knowing how badly hurt the person was. Kimo’s pickup was pretty racked up. Even so, I’ve seen pedestrians walk away with some awful damage. The rain didn’t leave much to go by.
“We’ve checked every doctor on the island. There were no unaccounted-for injuries then or the next day. My guess is someone got a puncture and was stiff and sore as hell the next day, but just not hurt enough to go see a doctor. I’d be willing to bet whoever it was was drunk too. Drunks seem able to take incredible beatings and still manage to survive.”
Laura cared little for the “drunk too,” comment, but assumed it was the police’s job to suspect the worst of anyone arrested. The suggestion the pedestrian might have been drunk was one Laura decided to file away for future reference. “Did you check the houses on the loop?” she asked. “Sid and I went to the one where Kimo got someone to phone, but no one was home.”
Corky nodded and reached into her pocket for her note pad. “We contacted everyone in those houses the next morning. We caught someone at home at all but one of them before they took off for work. I called him at his job. No one had anything to contribute. Everyone’s accounted for. There wasn’t anyone with obvious injuries.
“No one even knew about the accident except for the guy who called in, and … “ She checked her notes, “a Mr. McMahon who lives one door down in the other direction from where it happened. He says the flashing lights woke him up. He came out and talked to the patrolmen who were checking out the pickup. He didn’t know at the time there’d been an accident, so he wasn’t much help. Actually he’s pretty deaf. He wears a hearing aid. Not that it helps much.”
Corky showed a page of her note pad to Laura. “This is the list of the people living on Wiliwili Circle. If you want it, I can run off a copy for you.”
“I’d appreciate that. Do you know any of the people there?”
Corky shook her head and went back to her notes. “The subdivision’s full of newcomers, a lot of construction workers and hotel employees. The old guy on the corner, the one who put in the call, lives there alone. His name’s Fred Merritt. He’s retired. He’s the one you were trying to contact. The place nearest to where the accident happened is occupied by a couple of Filipino brothers. It’s overrun with fighting cocks.”
She again consulted her notebook. “Jerome and Wilson Jacinto. I talked to Jerome. He’s the older brother, a cook’s helper at the Malalani. Wilson wasn’t home. He works for a construction outfit, Higashi Brothers. In case you’re wondering, Jerome assured me his brother wasn’t in any accident. They were both asleep when it happened, according to him.
“The next house down belongs to McMahon and his wife. He’s the one who talked to the patrolmen. He’s retired. She works as a secretary at Napua Realty. She wasn’t home when we were there, and she wasn’t home at the time of the accident, so we haven’t interviewed her. There’s not much need to bother that I can see.
“The next house has a whole flock of Hawaiians. I’ll bet Leilani Pak knows them for sure. She’s probably related to them. The woman’s name is Kalahui. Makalita Kalahui. She’s living there with her daughter. No men are around. There sure are a lot of kids there, though–—three, anyway–—all belonging to … “ Corky checked her list again, “Drina Kalahui. She works at the Malalani, too. The mother takes care of the kids while Drina’s at work. They both slept through the accident.
“No one answered at the next house. He’s the one I had to phone. It turns out it’s a young Korean couple living there. Roderic and Phyllis Pak. Hey! Maybe they’re related to Leilani’s husband.”
“Half of Korea is named Pak,” Sid broke in, “but that doesn’t mean Leilani isn’t related to them one way or another.”
“I contacted the husband at the medical center. He works in the lab there. She teaches at the grade school. It was the same with them as with the Kalahuis. They didn’t know about the accident until the next day.
“The last house on the loop belongs to a family named Cambras. They’ve got two kids. She’s a housewife. He works at one of the plantation warehouses. I had to leave early, so I had one of the patrolmen stop by there. Same story as with the others. They first heard about the accident from the patrolman.”
“Name isn’t Bruce, by any chance, is it?” Hank asked.
“Yup. Know him?”
“Hell, yes. That’s Toni’s cousin. I didn’t know he’d moved out to the Subdivision.”
Sid shook his head. “After over eight years, I still can’t get used to living on an island. You people must be inbred like guppies in a fish bowl.” The three others laughed at his comment.
It was Laura who said, “Yes, but the difference is guppies have more privacy.”
Chapter 5
Emil didn’t remember Laura, and apologized for failing to do so. She told him she had simply assumed he wouldn’t remember her and, smiling, added, “After all, I was a lowly freshman when you were a senior.”
God, I remember practically nothing about those awful high school days, he thought, and I’m sorry I remember anything about them.
Kay was right, Laura decided. He does have nice eyelashes. And if he’s still a creep, he sure doesn’t look like one and, so far, isn’t acting like one.
“You wanted to see me about the Stanner case?” She sure has beautiful eyes, and she’s not wearing a wedding ring.
“Right. I wanted to make sure the charge is going to remain strictly a DUI.” I wonder if he’s married. I’ll have to ask Kay. A quick and surreptitious scanning of Emil’s desk revealed no photo of a wife and family.
Emil picked up the folder on his desk marked “Stanner.” Opening it, he said, “It’s a strange one, to say the least. He insisted he’d hit someone. He even insisted he’d killed whoever it was.” I’ll bet she has a different date every night.
Laura nodded. “I’ve checked with the police. They confirmed he did hit someone, or someone hit the pickup. That’s it though. They can’t find any trace of whoever he hit. That’s why I wanted to check with you. Will that prevent his being charged with being involved in an accident?” Well, maybe he’s not married, but I’m sure he must be living with someone if he isn’t.
Emil shrugged. “Unless someone who was injured shows up, there isn’t much possibility of charging Kimo with anything but a DUI. I don’t know how we’d make anything more stick if we did.” Maybe I should ask her to lunch tomorrow to talk things over.
“This is going to be my first court-case. I’d hate to have any surprises pulled on me.” I don’t suppose he cares the least bit that it’s my first case.
“I promise.” He smiled. “No surprises. If I hear of anything new, I’ll let you know as soon as I do.” Maybe next time I see her, I’ll ask her to lunch.
Laura got up, shook hands and left.
***
The following morning, when Laura dropped by Qual’s office, the first question he asked was about her meeting with Emil. “How did it go?”
“All right, I guess.�
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“Why so dubious?”
“Well, he seems to be kind of a cold fish, but that’s still a big improvement over what I remember from high school. Anyway, there are no plans for upping the charges against Kimo.”
Qual adjusted his bifocals and raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that what you were trying to find out.”
“Yes, but I was kind of hoping I’d also find out something about how he was going to approach the case.”
Qual laughed at Laura’s serious expression. “I suppose it was worth a try, but did you really expect to find out anything like that.”
Laura grinned back. “I guess I was expecting too much. At least I know the trial’s set for a week from today. He’s not asking for a postponement. But I really didn’t think he would.”
“Are you?”
“No. The longer we put it off, the worse it will be for Kimo. He’s really upset by what happened, and I know he wants to get it over with. Besides, there really isn’t much I could do with extra time. A week will give me more than enough time to get the case together.”
“What’s your approach going to be?”
“Blood-alcohol content. There’s not much else that can be done. I’m checking the Hawaii Revised Statutes and precedent. There’ve been several cases thrown out on technical grounds involving problems with the administration of the test. That doesn’t look too promising this time though, since the police were really careful, but I’m definitely going to push the fact Kimo was just barely over.
“Sid says he knows a specialist in the field who might testify the count has a margin of error which would make that reading level a dubious one. I’m also going to talk to Roger Kekua and Kevin Laramie, the two guys he was drinking with. I’ll see what I can do with them. Any suggestions? All are welcome.”
“Uh-uh. I think you’ve got things pretty much under control. Is there still no sign of whoever got hit?
“None. But on my way to Roger’s place I’m going to see if I can talk to the younger one of the Filipino brothers, the ones whose house is right near where the accident happened. I want to take a close look at Wilson. He wasn’t there when Corky went by.”
Qual’s eyes lit up. “That’s not a bad idea. I understand the police never did talk to him. Think he might be the corpse, in spite of what his brother said?”
“I called his company a few minutes ago, and he’s working out at one of their building sites. So he’s definitely alive, but I want to see for myself if he’s in any pain.”
“That’s the strangest thing.” Qual’s forehead creased into a deep frown. “Could Kimo have been hallucinating?”
Laura shook her head, not in disagreement, but as an expression of her own inability to satisfactorily explain what had happened. “If it weren’t for the damage to the pickup, I would have thought so. I think he’s telling the truth, or at least what he considers to be the truth. There’s no question in my mind but he thinks he killed someone. A hallucination is certainly one possibility. I’ve tried other explanations, but they just make no sense.”
“Like what?”
“Well, like he might have had an accident someplace else and was trying to cover up by claiming a fake accident on Wiliwili.”
“Hey. That’s a good one. It ranks along with some of Kay’s best. Why’d you discard that theory?”
“Partly because all the blood at the scene pretty much rules it out, but mainly because of Kimo, himself. I’ve made him run through the whole thing over and over again. Except for minor details, it comes out the same every time. He sure sounds like he’s telling the truth, even though he’s probably wrong about the person he hit being dead.” Laura looked doubtful for a moment, then added, “I suppose after I’ve been in this business for a few years I’ll be better able to tell whether or not a client is lying to me.”
Qual broke into a laugh. “Nope. That never improves. I know an old retired attorney over in Honolulu who says his last client had built up a story completely out of whole cloth. My friend never spotted it until the prosecutor tore the cloth all to shreds when he got to cross-examining the client.”
“Knowing I’ll never be any better at guessing than I am now, I’m going to assume Kimo’s telling what he thinks is the truth.
“Which means you’re therefore assuming he’s hallucinating.”
Laura nodded glumly. “I’m not exactly looking forward to what Wong will think if the prosecutor dwells on that.”
“That drunks are prone to hallucinate?”
“Right.”
“I’ve tried putting myself in Kimo’s place,” Qual said. “I can see where I’d have been convinced I’d killed someone who was just lying there. What with the pouring down rain, faulty windshield wipers, even a slight alcoholic haze, and a dark night—it wouldn’t be hard to be completely wrong about something like that.”
“Except he does have a good point. He’s been around a lot of corpses. He might have been upset at hitting someone, but he certainly wouldn’t have been fazed by a body.”
Qual again frowned in thought, substituted reading glasses for his bifocals and reached for some papers on his desk. As he did so, he said, “We’re just spinning our wheels.” Then, peering over his glasses, he added, “On something else, though. Have you talked to Bill Kuroyama about his experience with Judge Wong?”
“Not yet, but I took you at your word and invited him to lunch. He sounded eager.”
“Bill’s always eager for a free lunch.”
***
Bill Kuroyama was a close match to Qual’s description of him. Short—Laura guessed he was no more than three or four inches taller than her scant five feet—dark, with a pleasant, smiling, open face. Sid had been the one who had said Bill was putting on excess weight. That, Laura could not detect, though she had to admit Bill’s expensive and nicely tailored suit might have gone far to hide or disguise any surplus flesh. It took only moments, however, for Laura to learn Bill had all the effervescence Sid had predicted.
He had been waiting for Laura at the restaurant. “Welcome to the practice of law on the lovely Island of Elima,” he said, shaking her hand warmly. “We need more criminal lawyers here. My Dad says that’s a tautology. He claims all lawyers are criminal.”
Laura ate silently while Bill chatted on, though still managing to keep up with her food consumption while doing most of the talking. “You couldn’t have picked a better bunch to work with. Sid’s one of the sharpest trial lawyers I’ve ever seen. Too bad we’re such a backwater. If he were in New York, they’d be talking about a new Clarence Darrow. Kay is no slouch, either. She’s more brittle than Sid when she’s in court. I’ve seen her rub judges the wrong way, but you can’t fault her on preparation. Where she gets the energy to do all that research is beyond me.
“Now, Qual’s absolutely tops. The firm he used to clerk for in Honolulu calls him over for consultation every so often. Those big outfits figure we’re a bunch of hicks, so it does my heart good to have them asking someone over here for help. He’s the kind of lawyer I’d like to work with. I really can’t complain about old man Fessenden, though. He lets me do pretty much as I please, though he’s not exactly an inspiration. He hasn’t cracked a law book in the last half-century.”
“What kind of cases does your firm handle?”
“Mainly divorces, some wills and liability, and criminal defense occasionally. Fessenden likes to handle mediation cases.” Bill chuckled. “A couple of years ago a misprint showed up in one of our yellow pages ads. Matt was listed as being a specialist in ‘meditation.’ I told him I’d been wondering for years why it was always so quiet around his office.
“As far as I’m concerned, I’d rather handle a dozen of any other kind of case instead of even one murder case. That’s the only thing I wouldn’t go for in your place. All those criminal cases would get to me in no time, and murder cases are just too heavy duty. My own specialty is divorce, but it didn’t prepare me for the breakup with my own wife.”
&
nbsp; For a moment, Bill’s pleasant face clouded over. “Maybe that was good for me. It makes me much more appreciative of the problems my clients face. Wasn’t it Plato who said a lawyer shouldn’t represent a client unless he’d been in the same mess himself?”
Laura’s vague memories of her introductory philosophy course was that Plato had said exactly the opposite. Rather than comment, she concentrated on the last of her mahi-mahi loco moco—a double scoop of steamed rice, topped by a fried egg, a slice of fried fish and a covering of thick gravy. Over their coffees, Laura finally steered Bill to the reason for the meeting.
“Wong’s OK. He’s sure an improvement over old Judge Schreiber. In Schreiber’s last year you had to keep an eye on him to see whether or not he was napping. Well, you’ll never catch Wong napping. Old Owl Eyes will be watching you every minute, and everyone else in the courtroom as well. I haven’t even seen him blink, and he doesn’t suffer fools gladly. You should have been there when our ex-prosecutor rambled on. Wong looked like a Titan rocket ready to take off. He finally did one day.”
Laura didn’t especially like hearing about a judge who was impatient with attorneys. She wondered how tolerant he would be of novices. “How is he on DUI’s?”
“Hey! That’s right. You’ve got Leilani Pak’s nephew coming up, haven’t you. I’m not sure Wong’s much different than most judges these days when it comes to drunk driving. I had a client up on a DUI before him. It was a jury trial. Wong was impartial. My guess is if it’s a first offense with no injuries or property damage, he’ll probably let him off with a suspended. That’s providing there’s a trial and an adequate demonstration of extenuating circumstances.
“He’ll undoubtedly tack on a lot of other things: no driving except to work, ten sessions on safe driving, that sort of thing. The new law allows him to do a lot more than that. He could give Kimo as much as a year, so an awful lot’s going to depend on how you present the case.”
How comforting, Lisa thought.
Dead and Gone Page 4
