Storm looked at him, startled. “Meredith Wo wasn’t there?”
“No, she wasn’t. Did she give Ian Hamlin an injection of succinylcholine?”
“Yes, but I thought she was badly hurt, unconscious. I mean, I tried to stop her…”
“That would be the smashed picture frame?”
Storm nodded.
“Looked that way.” Fujita swirled his coffee in the cup, then regarded her with raised eyebrows. “We found some interesting stuff in the box under Hamlin. Does the name Tong Choy ring any bells?”
“Yeah,” Storm said slowly. “He’s the guy who died on Mauna Kea, right?”
“Yes, and we found immigration paperwork for him and his brother on the floor of Hamasaki’s office.”
“His brother?”
“Kwi Choy. Kwi has an apartment here in Honolulu, right off the freeway. It’s a crummy neighborhood, but he has one of those huge TV screens and a closet full of new clothes. You ever heard of this guy?”
“That’s the guy who tried to run me off the road.”
The detective pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Right. They were Wo’s clients. Maybe Wang’s, too. We’re going to search his files, too. Any ideas about what happened to Choy on Mauna Kea?”
“I think a boar chased him.”
“They have tusks, but they don’t usually break necks.” Fujita squinted at her. “Storm, what were you doing in Hamasaki’s office last night?”
She looked down at her fingernails, still dirty from working on Sam’s farm. It seemed like she’d been in Waimanalo weeks ago rather than only yesterday.
Fujita waited and Storm drew breath. “I heard about some private files that Hamasaki had kept on his family and probably some other people. I was trying to get them out before Meredith moved into the office.”
“Are these the ones you told me about?”
“Probably, but when I told you about them, I had no idea they held so many secrets. He used a private eye to get his information.” She picked at a hangnail. “I didn’t want any more people hurt.”
“And Meredith Wo knew about these secret files?”
“I believe so, but I don’t know how, or when, she found out.”
Fujita drained off what was left in his coffee cup. He stood up. “I’m glad to see you’re okay. I’ll drop by later on.”
“Detective, Meredith Wo killed Hamasaki.”
“We’re trying to find her now…and we’re looking into that possibility.” He gave her a little wave and walked out the door.
Storm clamped her teeth together in frustration. Why was Fujita so bloody nonchalant while that murderous bitch was still running around? And where was Hamlin? She looked around for a hospital official. Anyone—nurse, orderly, whatever. When she was trying to sleep or find a little privacy in the bathroom, they were all over her.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and gritted her teeth at the throbbing ankle. A wave of dizziness toppled her back to the pillows. She closed her eyes to stop the whirling room.
Aunt Maile popped her head through the door. “I brought you a papaya. Good food for healing.” She gave Storm a cellophane-wrapped piece of fruit on a flimsy plastic plate. “Keone’s down in the snack shop. Some people from your office are with him. Everyone’s worried about you. You feeling better?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Storm sounded grumpy even to herself. She softened her voice. “Aunt Maile, would you find the doctor who took care of me last night? Or someone who knows how Hamlin is doing?”
“Sure, honey. I’ll find Uncle Keone and we’ll be back in ten or fifteen minutes.”
If Uncle Keone’s in the snack shop, you can make that an hour, Storm thought. She set the papaya on the bedside table and stared at the blank TV screen on the wall opposite her bed. Her ankle was killing her. She looked around for a button to call the nurse. Weren’t they supposed to be right nearby? What if she fell out of bed? Or had a seizure? Or died of boredom? Sighing, she lay back and was shortly asleep.
Chapter 40
Storm awoke to a darkened room. Someone had turned out the light, closed her door. She pushed the call button. The hospital aide, switching on the light, told her that her aunt and uncle were in the cafeteria and would return soon. And, if she was awake, that policeman was back. She was.
Fujita, smiling, walked in. A steaming cup of Starbucks went to the bedside table. He sat, perching another cup on his crossed knee.
“You think your doctors will mind?” he asked. “It’s decaf.”
Storm inhaled the aroma. “I hope not.”
Fujita sipped. “You’re better. I’ve been back to Hamasaki’s office. Talk to me more about the files you saw. Not the family stuff. We’re still getting a handle on how Wo knew—”
“I think I can help.”
A low voice from the doorway caused both of them to turn their heads. Hamlin sat in a wheelchair and one side of his face drooped. The lower lid of one eye was pulled down by the weight of the paralyzed cheek to show bright pink lining. Now it pooled with tears. “Storm, I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Ian, I’ve been so worried about you.” She struggled to sit up. “What happened to you?”
“Seventh cranial nerve damage. From the lack of oxygen.” He held a hand in front of his mouth when he spoke, but Storm could see that one side of his mouth hung flaccid and his proud moustache straggled above the loose lower lip.
“Why are you sorry? I’m sorry I didn’t knock her out better.” Storm tried not to stare at his stricken face. “Will this go away?”
“Maybe, time will tell.” He wiped at an eye. Storm could not tell if the tears were the result of sadness or injury, but he went on. “I’m sorry that I ignored all the signs that pointed to Meredith. I should have known. Remember her big lawsuit against the neurosurgeon?” Hamlin looked at the detective, who looked down at his coffee cup.
“She was going after twenty million. It was not only going to make her reputation, her retainer was forty percent.” He met Storm’s eyes. “When we were dating, she was in the middle of the case. She talked about the hospital’s involvement and whether to name Unimed in the lawsuit, too. She went to Ed Wang, who was the personal attorney for Sherwood Overton, CFO of the company. After ranting in my office one afternoon about how she’d been stonewalled, she completely shut up about it.” Hamlin looked at Fujita, then Storm. “She got a two million dollar settlement. A few months later, she was asked to be a full partner at the firm.”
Fujita interrupted. “She never filed suit against the HMO?”
Hamlin shook his head. “No. We broke up soon after.” He paused. “A couple of years passed and I didn’t think much more about it. But then, in the way unresolved issues keep popping up, I overheard Hamasaki arguing with someone the afternoon he died. They were really shouting at each other.
“I would have closed my office door, but the word ‘Unimed’ kept coming up. So I left the door open, and about ten minutes later, Sydney O’Toole stomped out of Hamasaki’s office. Edwin Wang must have heard it, too, because he dropped in right after O’Toole left. Soon after, Lorraine Tanabe took Hamasaki a cup of tea. A few minutes later, Hamasaki went to the men’s room, then returned to his office.”
Hamlin’s sad eyes went back and forth between Fujita’s and Storm’s rapt faces. “All was quiet and I left soon after. Lorraine was pulling covers over the office equipment, so she apparently was planning to leave soon, also.” Hamlin looked miserable. “Next morning Hamasaki was dead.”
Storm’s eyes narrowed. “When you told me Hamasaki was preoccupied, you knew he was upset about Unimed.”
“No, I still believe it was about Martin. I just didn’t tell you about the quarrel with O’Toole.”
“Why not?” Fujita asked. “And why didn’t you tell the police?”
Hamlin glared at Fujita. “You have to ask?”
Fujita picked at the
top of his coffee cup. “Okay.”
“Okay, what? What are you talking about?” Storm sat up straight.
Hamlin looked disgusted. “The careers of the good detective, here, and I both benefited from Meredith’s lawsuit. The police, the prosecutor’s office, even the hospital administrative bigwigs hopped around and said they’d long ago suggested he stop cutting. We jumped all over that poor surgeon looking for criminal negligence. He was a big target to bring down.” The lines in Hamlin’s face dragged on his mouth and his drooping eye filled with tears again.
“The doctor had a stroke in the middle of the trial,” Storm said.
“Right. I was damned if I was going to ruin another guy in the twilight of his profession. I thought it would be better to ask some questions, first. After all, I saw O’Toole leave and Hamasaki was still fine.”
Fujita regarded Hamlin from the corner of his eyes. “And then what?”
“I took O’Toole out for a drink a few days later.” Hamlin looked sheepish. “He wanted to talk. He thought he’d stressed out his old friend and given him a heart attack.
“After about four rounds of Jameson’s, he loosened up quite a bit.” Hamlin shook his head. “That guy can drink. I wondered if I was going to stay sober enough to remember what he told me. He said he’d started the whole mess when he went to Hamasaki for advice about a patient of his who needed a bone marrow transplant. Seems the HMO wouldn’t pay for the procedure, though they talked a big story about how they were building a state-of-the-art cancer treatment clinic. O’Toole was frustrated because their equipment was obsolete and continually under repair.
“Hamasaki picked up on this right away. O’Toole chuckled about how no one ever could pull the wool over his friend’s eyes. Hamasaki talked to hospital department heads, listened to the company line, then looked up the purchasing orders on his own. He found the discrepancies, then went back to O’Toole to find out what was going on.”
Hamlin took a deep breath. “This is where O’Toole got fuzzy. And it wasn’t just the booze. He was nervous, like someone was threatening him. He tossed back the rest of his drink and got up. I threw some money on the table and followed him out of the bar. Had to practically chase him down the street. He wouldn’t let me call him a cab, either, the crazy fool. Last thing he said as he shuffled off was that he’d told Hamasaki to clean his own nest. And he told me to do the same.”
Fujita looked thoughtful. “So, not just Wo, Wang was in on this, too.”
“Of course. That wimp never could say no to her,” Storm said.
“That wimp is dead.” Fujita’s voice was grim. “He died yesterday afternoon, while you were up in the Ko’olau Mountains. Looks like a heart attack. His face was a mask of pain-—or maybe fear—hard to say.”
Fujita looked puzzled. “The odd thing is, he was wearing just one tennis shoe. We couldn’t find the other.”
Storm and Hamlin both gaped at him. “Jesus,” Storm whispered. Hamlin opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Storm knew she’d have to talk to Aunt Maile and to Bebe and Sam. Later. Storm forced herself back on track. “Did she get the files?”
“Where were they kept?” Fujita asked.
Storm told him about the hidden drawer in the old bookcase.
“The glass was broken, but no books were moved. She would only have had a minute or two before we got there.”
“It’s real private stuff.” Storm’s eyes slid to meet Hamlin’s. “A lot of it Hamasaki shouldn’t have kept.”
“But you found information about Unimed?” Fujita asked.
Storm nodded. “Overton, Wang, Meredith, and Unimed are all connected.” She looked at Hamlin. “Like Ian said, Hamasaki found out that money was being diverted from one of Unimed’s accounts.” Storm sighed. “I think he approached her or Wang with questions about the equipment purchasing orders. O’Toole virtually told him the problem lay within the firm, right?”
“Makes sense.” Fujita took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Storm, I need to see those files.”
“I knew you would say that.” She pointed to her bagged clothing in a corner of the room. Fujita handed them to her and she dug out the key. “Could you leave the family files behind? Please?”
Fujita shook his head. “I have to go through them, but I promise we’ll bring anything unrelated to this case to you. I’ll do it myself.” He gestured to someone in the hall. “You and Hamlin have twenty-four-hour guards until we find her.”
A nurse walked into the room. “Mr. Hamlin, you’ve got an appointment with neurology.”
Hamlin nodded and turned his chair slowly.
“Ian, I’ll come see you,” Storm called after him.
Fujita jingled the keys in his hand. “You think Wo blackmailed Wang?” he asked Storm.
“Maybe. Or maybe he just couldn’t face up to her, even in the end.” She watched the door for a minute. “Do you know if Wang had any Chinese immigrant clients?”
Fujita’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, the papers we found on Tong Choy showed he was Wang’s client. We’re getting a search warrant right now for Wang’s office.”
“I was thinking. Wang had this incredible jade collection. He talked to me about it, once. He loaned it to museums, you know.”
“And?”
“People came to him to sell their family heirlooms. He talked about how it was tougher these days to get good pieces.”
Fujita stared at her.
“Maybe he offered sponsorship to the United States for jade.”
“Immigrants do need guaranteed employment. Yeah, we can check that out. What’s the connection to Meredith?”
“She would have known.”
“Maybe Wang had Meredith do his paperwork?”
“Wang got everyone to do his paperwork.”
Storm slumped back on her pillow. Sadness and fatigue had drained her. Fujita gave her a pat on the arm and walked slowly from the room.
Storm thought about all those hidden documents. She believed that Fujita would keep them private, but she was embarrassed to have anyone else see what was in them. A tangled mess of family skeletons and betrayals ensnared them all. Faith had been an elusive quality in the Hamasaki family and she couldn’t help but feel that Miles Hamasaki himself had set the first example. He had been unable to relinquish his power, and by striving for new ways of control, he’d doomed the foundation of trust for which he’d worked so hard.
Chapter 41
Aunt Maile and Uncle Keone came into Storm’s room and vowed not to leave her side until she was discharged. Well, except for an occasional trip to the cafeteria, one at a time. The hospital even rounded up two cots for the night. All three clung to each other’s presence.
The lines in her aunt’s and uncle’s faces looked deeper than she remembered. Their bones looked more prominent and Uncle Keone’s jeans bagged more on his flat bottom. She noticed for the first time that the once-deep brown irises of their eyes were ringed with blue. The three of them shared the evening paper; Aunt Maile and Uncle Keone passed a pair of reading glasses back and forth. And she could see the knowledge of human fragility reflected in their eyes.
She knew they partly blamed themselves for her close call. They felt they should have warned her more strongly, or been with her after Hamasaki’s death. Uncle Keone apologized for not spending the night when they came to O’ahu for a saddle.
“What could you have done?” Storm asked them, and she meant it. But they were deflated, worried about their own judgment and weaknesses. They were afraid they’d contributed to her pain.
Storm felt a gap widen with their reticence, like the one she’d felt with her father. It was up to her to reach out now. She began by explaining what she and Fujita thought had happened, that Wo had been covering up a large-scale embezzlement of Unimed. She told them how she and Fujita figured either Wang was involved or being blackmailed by Meredith. The Chine
se immigrants had done Wo’s bidding, afraid of losing their sponsorship and being sent back. One of them had tried to run Storm off the road and one followed her on the slopes of the mountain. Both were dead. It was up to Fujita to find who had actually carried out the violence against Lorraine.
Storm picked at the bed covers. “Aunt Maile, I still don’t understand how Tong Choy broke his neck on the mountain. There were no footprints, no signs of struggle. And what was that strange animal we saw?”
Aunt Maile glanced at Uncle Keone. “The old legends say that the ‘aamakaa protects. The spirits of dead ancestors call on whatever god is needed to defend the family,” Maile said. She shrugged. “Some of the kahana would say that the creature was Kamapua’a, half-man, half-pig.”
“I remember the songs and dances that tell his story, but do you really believe those old legends? I’m not convinced Wo didn’t hire someone to clean up after the Tong brothers,” Storm said. “And to remove Ed Wang before he betrayed her.”
Her aunt and uncle looked alike in that moment, gray hair and wizened brown skin, and they reached for each other’s hands. “I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure.”
Aunt Maile looked at Storm with steady dark eyes. “But I’m sure she didn’t conjure up a wild boar,” she said. “Did she even know about your ‘aamakaa? That it is pa‘a, the pig?”
Storm shook her head. “No.”
Uncle Keone leaned forward on his chair, his elbows on his knees, and rested his warm, dry hand on Storm’s. “Some of the old teachings are metaphors for life and nature. Like what the Bible says, ‘whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap?’ Can you explain why that happens? Yet it does, doesn’t it?”
His eyes twinkled. “The old Hawaiians believed in the forces of nature, that they took human form.” Uncle Keone sat back next to Aunt Maile with a smile and nodded at Storm. She no longer felt distance between them. Instead, they felt part of a bigger whole. And it was comforting.
She was still terrified of falling asleep, being out of her own control, but her doctor visited her during a physical therapy session and told her that these fears were normal and should fade. Her body demanded sleep for healing, though, and she took frequent naps that became less and less fraught with anxiety. Except for two empty bags of Mrs. Field’s cookies, a half-eaten jar of kim chee that left a strong garlic aroma throughout the room, and a rubbish can full of banana and papaya peels, she might have believed that Aunt Maile and Uncle Keone never left her side.
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