“Did either of you ever see this on a man’s back?”
Rod took the photo to examine it more closely as Phyllis looked at it over his shoulder. “Sure,” he said. “I took an X-ray of a guy with one of these about a month or two ago.”
Chapter 11
“Jackpot,” Corky said, as they started toward the Kalahui household, “and they brew good coffee besides.”
“I guess it would be too much of a coincidence to think there were two men in the area with that kind of a tattoo on their left shoulder blade,” Laura said.
“Damn right. We’re lucky he had it on his back.”
“Right,” Laura said, with a laugh. “I imagine it’s pretty rare for butts to be X-rayed.”
Corky joined in the laugh. “We’ll know for sure tomorrow, when Rod goes to work. They can’t take all that many X-rays there, so he should be able to run down the name. Why don’t you be the one to go by and see him?”
Laura gave her companion a look of amazement. “You mean you’re just going to turn a police job over to me? Remember, I have an interest in this case.”
Corky grinned. “So what? Can you think of any reason why you’d want to suppress the corpse’s identity?”
Laura shook her head, but still had difficulty accepting the local police’s casual attitude toward investigating.
“Besides,” Corky continued, “You might also get to talk to Cal Lim at the same time?”
“Cal Lim?”
“Yeah. He used to be the county pathologist back when there wasn’t enough business to justify having a full-time one. He’s a hell of a nice guy. He’s also a friend of Sid’s, by the way. They worked together on some cases. I’m sure Cal will be happy to help, and he’s also a top pathologist. Clyde Victorine, the current pathologist, thinks there’s a possibility the body was knifed before the accident. You might want to ask Cal how that’s determined.”
“Knifed?” Laura’s eyes opened wide and she turned to look at her companion.
“Oops, sorry!” Corky said. “I guess I should have told you about it since it would be kind of important if it’s true.”
“That’s putting it mildly. What did Victorine say about it?” Laura made no attempt to suppress the excitement in her voice.
“I got it second-hand from Hank. Victorine said he’d write it up in his final report. He didn’t give Hank any details except to say it could just possibly be a knife wound. You’ll see it when you get your copy of the report.”
“I’d sure like to have something more definite than that.”
“That’s why you should see Cal. He probably knows more about knife wounds than any pathologist in Hawaii.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“No problem,” Corky said with a grin. “I’ve got to admit I’m trying to avoid having to get up in time to be there when the clinic opens. Just be sure to call Hank with the results as soon as Rod runs down the information.”
While the subdivision houses may have been identical in construction, the resemblance between the households ended there. The Kalahui yard was fenced in with hog wire, and the bare ground showed mute evidence of countless feet. Three children, ranging from five to eight were quarreling over whose turn it was to go down next on a rickety plastic slide. Makalita and her daughter, Drina, greeted them without any of the hospitality shown by the Paks. Fortunately, the hostility which Bruce Cambra had exhibited was also absent. Neither Makalita nor Drina gave any indication of remembering Corky from her previous visit.
Makalita looked like a full-blood native Hawaiian. She was a tall, large woman, with heavy gray hair and dark skin. Drina was a younger replica of Makalita, well on her way to developing her mother’s girth and graying hair. The two of them were from Honolulu. Drina had separated from her husband a couple of years previously. The continuing hotel strike where she had worked at Waikiki had induced her and her mother to come to Elima where hotel workers were in considerable demand. Drina went to work in the Malalani’s restaurant, while her mother did the baby sitting.
Corky wondered at Drina’s last name. Native Hawaiians seldom kept their maiden name at marriage, nor did they resume it after a divorce. Corky suspected the children had been born without benefit of clergy. Drina had referred to her ‘husband,’ but that was a common euphemism for a long time live-in. Since Corky could see no relevance of any of this to the investigation, she made no attempt to find out anything more about the children’s parentage.
Corky and Laura had hoped Makalita’s presence during the entire day of the accident might produce something of interest. They were disappointed. No, neither Makalita nor Drina knew of any stranger having been around that day. No, they had not heard about the accident until the next day. No, they had not heard about the body either.
Corky and Laura quickly gave up and moved along to the McMahon house.
“Hey,” said Laura. “We forgot to show them the tattoo. I’ll run back and see if they recognize it.”
“Don’t bother,” said Corky. “We’ve got him practically identified already, and he wasn’t likely to have been running around here in the pouring rain with his shirt off.”
***
“For heaven’s sake, Sid! Feed these cats before they drive me up the wall.” Sheena was looking longingly at the refrigerator door and mewing loudly. John Samuel was almost on his side and horizontal to the floor, as he threw his full weight and energy into rubbing against Kay’s legs while she was trying to unload the groceries. Bluebeard was just his usual manic self. The young cat was running from one parent to the other, catching sight of his tail in the process and forgetting everything else. The next moment he was wildly trying to climb a trouser leg as Sid searched through the canned cat food trying to decide what would be a special treat.
“How did Laura do in court?” Sid asked, using the electric can opener and instantly attracting an audience of expectant cats. “Did you mean the kudos you threw her way today, or were you just giving her strokes because you figured she needed them?”
“When you get through with that, see what kind of vegetables we have in the freezer. We just have to shop for some fresh ones tomorrow. Laura did really well. She made a couple of mistakes. I talked to her about them. She takes criticism well, and that’s half the battle. I think she made a good impression on Wong, too, which doesn’t hurt. What did hurt was the damn corpse showing up. It’s too bad Wong’s so impatient. He wouldn’t go for a month’s delay, but he did give Laura two weeks. He says the evidence is no different just because there’s a body now. Laura says two weeks are better than nothing. I can’t argue with that.”
“Asparagus, green beans, peas. Lots of choice. Qual insists we let Laura handle Kimo’s case, even if it comes up as a negligent homicide charge, which it’s almost certain to.”
“Asparagus. Maybe you can make some Hollandaise sauce, using the famous recipe your great-grandmother brought with her from China. It wouldn’t be fair to take it away from Laura, now. I’ll stick with her in court just in case but, frankly, I think she’s a professional already.”
“Hey, you forgot to turn on the rice pot. I have to admit she’s sure starting with a weird case. I understand Victorine thinks the victim may have been stabbed before the accident.”
“I didn’t intend to turn it on until I get this chicken thawed. I’m planning a special green salad tonight. Flip the switch in about ten minutes. You’re right about the possible wound. The problem is there’s no real way of telling whether or not it actually is a stab wound. I told Laura to check with Cal at the clinic, but Corky had already given her that advice. With his background in pathology, Cal will be able to give her a much better idea of what Victorine’s speculation means.”
Sid picked his way to the stove through the purring, washing cats and turned on a front burner. “I’ll make it fifteen. If I’m going to do this sauce right, it takes time. I should think a stab wound would be easy to distinguish from an injury someone would get by being hit by a car.”<
br />
“Sid! I told you to get butter lettuce and you got romaine. It might be if the corpse were intact but, from the way Corky describes it, it was kind of hard to tell the body had ever been human, never mind what it died of. Birds and rats dug holes all through it. I’m glad I don’t have her job.”
“That was all they had at Uchima’s. I didn’t have time to go anywhere else. Well, that’s a point Laura could play on. If there’s a possibility the guy was stabbed before he was hit by the car, it will almost for sure take care of the homicide charge.”
“Damn! The recipe specifically called for butter lettuce. It will, unless someone comes up with the wild idea Kimo stabbed the guy and then ran over him to make it look like an accidental death.”
Chapter 12
Mr. McMahon was the only one at home. “Jill had to work late at the real estate office,” Alex McMahon said in a loud voice to Corky when she asked about his wife. “Seems like there’s been a lot of night work there lately.”
Somewhere in his late sixties, the tall, rather distinguished looking McMahon was an investigator’s dream. Obviously lonely, he was happy to have someone to talk to, ready to talk about anything and to do so at length. Laura was not so sure she wanted that kind of witness. However, she listened closely to his answers as Corky posed the questions.
“I don’t think I can add much to what I told you before. I didn’t hear the accident. Once I take my hearing aid off, I don’t hear much of anything. The flashing lights woke me up. That’s when I went out to see what all the excitement was about. It was raining. I got wet in spite of a raincoat and an umbrella. Jill didn’t get home until much later. She said she had a lot of work to catch up on. I sure hope they appreciate her at the office. She puts in a lot of overtime. No. I can’t say as I saw anyone around who didn’t belong. There might have been some deliverymen around, but I can’t be sure.
“My son was here from California the week before. Him and his sister are from my first marriage. My wife died, almost three years ago now. She had throat cancer. I married Jill last year. That’s what brought me over to Hawaii. She wanted to move someplace warm. See, we lived in upstate Michigan. I miss the old crowd, but I find stuff to do around here. I’m not much of a gardener. It’s just nice to be able to grow things the year round. I like it in this spot, but we may have to move. The Jacintos’ roosters are getting to Jill. Like I said, I don’t hear too well, so I don’t mind them particularly.”
Later, Corky and Laura agreed McMahon had to be really hard of hearing, since the roosters had been clearly audible at the other end of the block while they had been interviewing the Cambras. At McMahon’s house, the crowing birds had actually made conversation difficult.
This time, before leaving, Laura remembered to show the tattoo to McMahon. He shook his head.
“What do you think?” Corky asked, as they closed the gate in front of the McMahon house.
“I think we’d better drop by Napua Realty and see who else works in the office.”
“Right on. That’s what I was thinking, too.”
“It’s just possible they have a worker missing and unaccounted for,” Laura said. “On the other hand, we’re much more likely to find there’s nothing more than an office romance going on, and everyone’s alive and accounted for.”
“Whatever,” Corky continued. “This is still important enough for Hank to do some leg work. I’ll call him tonight when I get home and tell him you’ll be checking out the tattoo at the medical center. I’ll let you know tomorrow afternoon if he finds out anything.”
***
With the drabbest color of all the homes in the block, a dull gray, the Jacinto house and lot still managed to stand out amongst its clones in the loop. The colorful and noisy roosters were bound to catch the eye as well as the ear of any passersby.
“They’ve got this place rigged up like a jail yard,” Corky said as she tried to figure out the latch on the gate.
“Has to be like that,” Laura said. “One stray pit-bull could clean out their prize roosters in an hour. It happened to one of our neighbors in Wanakai. A dog went through his yard and systematically killed every one of his birds. The fence also keeps the hens from getting out into the road,” she added.
Corky quickly realized the latch arrangement was actually a simple one. A U-shaped bracket on a swivel held the heavy iron gate securely to a steel post. Once this latch was tipped up, the gate could be swung in either direction. Careful to chase back the hens who evidently expected treats from all humans, Laura and Corky closed the gate, climbed the low porch, stepping carefully to avoid the bird droppings, and rapped on the door. Above an occasional crow, they could hear music and noise behind the door. These ceased abruptly to be replaced by the sound of approaching footsteps.
Jerome and Wilson gave the two visitors a royal welcome. Jerome expressed his pleasure at seeing Corky again, while Wilson lagged but little behind in showing a similar reaction to Laura’s presence. The two brothers were quite different in appearance, though both had the brown, Malay complexion of the typical Filipino. Jerome, the elder brother, and the shorter and quieter one of the pair, had eyes which were hazel rather than dark brown; and his hair was brown, contrasting sharply with Wilson’s jet black thatch.
Since the curtains were closed, the room was dimly lit, but Laura could still make out most of its furnishings. Several pieces of overstuffed furniture were crowded into the small front room, and a worn carpet spread out from its center and stretched under the furniture. A TV-set facing the furniture was flashing a flickering picture and accounted for the noise they had heard when they knocked.
Wilson broached the subject of their visit without any prompting on their part. “We heard about that body today. I don’t think we can help much. Like Jerome told you,” he nodded toward Corky, “we was both asleep when all this happened.”
The answers came readily to Corky’s questions. Neither of them had seen any strangers in the neighborhood that day. Both had arrived home at about six. Wilson had gone in town for a few hours to the tavern after supper, and had gotten back before ten. Both were in bed and asleep by eleven.
Wilson tried to switch off to small talk, obviously interested in more mundane matters than missing or found bodies. Corky decided there was not much more to be gained from the interview, but this time Laura reminded her of the tattoo.
During the ride back to town, Corky and Laura agreed the tattoo had once again hit home. “Did you see the look they gave each other when I broke out the photo?” Corky asked.
Laura nodded. “I thought Wilson was going to choke. There’s no question at all but that they recognized it, no matter what they say. Of course, it doesn’t prove they saw the guy the night of the accident.”
“Wait until Hank hears about this. I want to be along when he questions those two. He doesn’t take kindly to being lied to. Whatever they know, he’ll find out for sure, one way or another”
***
Sid had given Laura a wonderfully accurate description of Calvin Lim. Cal was a stereotypical Chinese with a Charlie Chan accent so exaggerated Laura knew he must have adopted it to caricature his appearance. Laura had been impressed at how Sid, ordinarily so chary with his praise, had been effusive when speaking of Cal. In the short time she had to talk to Cal before his first patient of the day came in, she found herself in full agreement with Sid’s evaluation. Cal was a personable and extremely helpful individual. Laura again found herself thinking in terms of witness potential. Laughing inwardly, she began to wonder if she would ever be able to look at people in any other way again.
“Easy to confuse stab wound with other tissue damage,” Cal had said. “Notion knife goes in clean and comes out clean not borne out by fact. Victim twists and turns. Knife seldom very sharp or pointed. In this instance, from what I understand of corpse’s condition, would be very, very difficult to be sure it was knife wound even if penetration very deep. Flies feed on open wound, lay eggs, and maggots emerge in less th
an twenty-four hours. Understand body not discovered for several weeks, so many cycles of insects, to say nothing of mynah and mongoose.”
Cal shook his head in exasperation at the difficulties involved. “Will talk to Victorine and get back to you this afternoon,” he added. “May go see corpse myself. Sounds interesting.”
Laura could think of few things less interesting than a badly decomposed body. Cal would have been happy to go into further details, but his nurse arrived to announce his first patient was in the waiting room. Laura walked over to the laboratory wing in search of Rod Pak.
Rod smiled in greeting, waving her over to a chair while he worked his way through a box of files. Again, Laura was aware of how attractive he looked.
“‘Charts’ are what we call them here,” he said, “though the main things in them are totally unintelligible notes written by the doctors.” A smile spread over his face as he spoke. “That’s why I’m not too concerned about betraying patient confidentiality. Even the doctors usually can’t read their notes after their cold.”
Laura was still amazed, though pleased, at Elima’s laid back atmosphere extending to medical records as well as to police investigations.
This box,” he indicated the one he was working through, “has the chart of every male between twenty and sixty I X-rayed during the last three months. I can’t be sure of the guy’s age. I think it was someone in his forties, but I figured I wouldn’t take any chances. It’s the same with the date. It was probably two months ago, but could be longer. Besides, with our new filing system, it was easy to get all these charts by calling up the dates and other characteristics on the computer. It’s a great system. Lots of cross references are possible.”
“How will you know when you’ve found him?”
“I’m not sure. A lot of the patients have identifying marks listed, but that isn’t sure fire. I didn’t note the tattoo on his record. I wouldn’t have, since that’s usually the attending physician or his nurse who would write it into the charts, if it got in at all. I may still be able to narrow down the search for you. I’m reasonably certain he was having an X-ray because of suspected emphysema, so that’s what I’m checking for first.” He pushed a small stack of folders over to her. “These are emphysemics. Look under identifying marks.”
Dead and Gone Page 8
