I was shocked. "How do you know them?"
Mrs. Kahele smiled. "Hawaii is a small place. Everyone knows everyone."
I nodded. "I guess so."
Carter asked, "How are John and Jeff? I got a letter from them at Christmas but haven't heard anything since."
I once again marveled at my husband and his ability to remember names and stay in touch with everyone he'd ever met.
Tony replied with a grin, "They'd be happy to see the two of you."
I shook my head. "We can't—"
Tony put his arm around me. "You go rent a car, if you don't have one, and I'll meet you two in the lobby of the Pink Palace at around noon. It's a couple of hours' drive from here."
I looked over at Carter who nodded and simply said, "Yeah."
. . .
"I'm sorry, Mr. Williams, since you are not a blood relation, I'm afraid we can't release the body to you." That was the hospital administrator, one Mr. Howard Marshall. We were standing in his office on the second floor of the hospital.
"Then what do you propose?"
"We are trying to contact Mr. Cheung's family."
I laughed. "How so? By shooting up a flare? Like I said, Bobby has one relative, an uncle who lives somewhere in Chinatown and who doesn't speak English."
Mr. Marshall looked exasperated. "I've contacted the Chinese consulate in San Francisco—"
Carter piped up. "Bobby was probably in the country without papers. The consulate isn't going to know who he is. You don't even know his first name. It's not Robert. Bobby is a nickname."
Mr. Marshall sighed. "Fine, gentlemen, fine. These are the rules. And I'm doing all I can."
Carter asked, "Do you know who this is?" He was pointing at me. I really hated that question.
The man shook his head with a look of confusion. "No, I can't say that I do."
Carter said, "This is Nicholas Williams. He owns a private investigation firm in San Francisco. He'll take care of finding Bobby's uncle. In fact, we're already on it."
The man looked at me for a long moment and then took a step back. He turned red and looked flustered. "Oh, yes, well, when you have that information, I, uh, would be grateful if you would pass it along." He backed up another step and then quickly walked over to his desk and sat down. "In the meantime, will you excuse me, please? I have other matters to attend to. Good day."
. . .
We had just walked into the hotel lobby when I heard someone say, "Paging Mr. Williams." I looked over and saw a kid in a white uniform walking away from us.
Carter called out, "Over here."
The kid turned and walked towards us. "Mr. Williams?"
I nodded. "Yeah?"
"San Francisco calling." He motioned to a white telephone sitting on a small table between two overstuffed chairs. "Use that phone and tell the operator your name."
I handed the kid a folded five and said, "Thanks."
He grinned and walked away.
I looked up at Carter and said, "If we're going to the beach—"
"I'll go ask the concierge where we can get some clothes so we don't have to go to the plane."
I nodded, smiled at him, got a wink in reply, and made my way to the house phone.
"This is Nick Williams."
"Oh, Mr. Williams. I have a person-to-person call for you from a Mike Robertson in San Francisco. Shall I put you through?"
"Please."
"One moment."
I heard a couple of clicks and then the operator said, "Royal Hawaiian ready with Mr. Williams."
A second voice said, "Honolulu ready for San Francisco."
A third voice, much fainter, said, "Mr. Robertson, your call is ready."
I heard Mike reply, "Thank you, Operator."
There were a couple of clicks and then Mike said, "Nick?"
"Yeah, Mike. How are you?"
"Fine. Look, I found the uncle."
"How'd that go?"
"Not well. He says to do whatever we want."
"He speaks English?"
"No. The translation was courtesy of one of the waiters at the restaurant. That uncle is bad news."
"Yeah." I sighed. "Not sure what we're gonna do here. The hospital will only release the body to relatives."
"That's there problem, Nick. Remember, Bobby is gone. That's a corpse."
"But that's so disrespectful."
"I know what you mean, Nick. But you've got bigger fish to fry."
"Sure. How's Sam?"
"The doctors are hopeful. Getting that call from the hospital where you are helped a lot. They weren't really sure what was happening. One of 'em told me they only ever saw Chinese with that strain. He'll be in the hospital for a couple of weeks. Your Mrs. Kopek has basically moved in and taken over."
"Good. I'm glad he's going to be OK."
"Are you still going through with the original plan?"
"Maybe. Probably." I looked up as Carter walked over with Captain O'Reilly and Murphy. "Anything else?"
"We lost track of you-know-who." He was referring to Ricky.
"What happened?" I ask.
"We think he left town."
"Maybe he has a job."
"Could be." Mike sounded doubtful.
"When did your team last see him?"
"Thursday night—"
"Mike! Why are you just now telling me?"
"This is my job. Let me handle things my way."
"Fine." I wasn't happy but he was right. It was his job.
"Anyway, he stopped in at The Silver Rail and left by the tunnels, from what we can determine. He must have figured out someone was following him."
I sighed. "Did you talk to the bartender?"
"I put Sam on it. Didn't find out anything. That guy is a tough nut."
"He must be really tough if Sam couldn't get something out of him." I sighed and tried to ignore the growing knot in my stomach. "I'll be back in touch once we get to Hong Kong. Or let you know otherwise."
"Sounds fine." With that, the line went dead. I put the receiver back on its cradle and stood.
While I was on the phone, Captain O'Reilly and Murphy had appeared. The captain was holding his pipe in his hand. "Sorry to hear about the young lad. Real tragedy, that is."
I nodded. "Yeah." Looking over at Carter, I said, "You-know-who skipped town on Thursday night."
His eyes narrowed. "And you're just now finding out?"
I nodded. "Let's skip that part. He's probably on a job."
Carter huffed. "Fine. What about Sam?"
"He's going to be OK. Mrs. Kopek took over."
That got a smile from my husband. "Good."
"But the uncle was no help."
"What do we do?" he asked.
"Mike said to let the hospital take care of it. What else can we do?" I was feeling the lack of sleep.
Murphy piped up. "There's worse places in the world to be buried than in a pauper's grave on an island like this." He put his hand on my arm. "Let the dead bury the dead."
. . .
I handed the keys to the Mercury to Tony. "You drive. But we need to stop by the airport first." We were standing in front of the hotel. There was a car rental agency on site and they'd just dropped it off.
Tony grinned. "Fine by me, Boss."
I chuckled. "I'll sit in the back. Carter's a great navigator. Even when he has no idea where we're going."
Carter opened the back door for me. I hopped in. He handed me the valise we'd packed in case we wanted to change into swimming trunks. We'd put on lightweight trousers and short-sleeved shirts. I put the valise on the seat next to me. I could feel myself falling asleep even before Tony got the engine started.
. . .
"Nick?"
I opened my eyes. We were on the tarmac right next to the Fireman. Carter had opened my door and was waiting for me to get out, which I did.
Captain Morris was standing on a short ladder under one of the propellers. The blade was detached and spread out on a tar
p that had been spread out under the belly of the plane. Newland was holding something big and silver in his hand while Captain Obregon and two other men in T.W.A. overalls were watching.
Captain Morris looked down at us and said, "Be with you in five minutes, Mr. Williams."
I nodded. Tony walked up to one of the guys from T.W.A. and asked, "How are you Billy boy?"
The man, who was Chinese, smiled and laughed. "Tony! What are you doing here?"
He hooked his thumb in my direction. "Got a job driving this haole around the island."
Carter leaned over and whispered, "You are going to pay him, right?"
I nodded. "Of course."
"How much?"
"Couple of C-notes."
"Good."
I smiled up and got another wink in reply. I could feel a warmth flooding my body and it had nothing to do with the heat of standing on a big piece of hot concrete under the mid-day sun.
Captain Morris said, "OK, Newland. Looks like that'll do it. You two want to check my work?"
The two men in overalls walked up and looked inside the housing of the engine. The one who wasn't Billy nodded and said, "Good job, Captain. Wouldn't have guessed you for a mechanic, myself." He had a southern twang.
Captain Morris was wiping his hands on a cloth. "Had to work on Connies in the middle of nowhere before. But I'm always glad to have the real experts inspect my work."
The other two men grinned. Captain Morris handed them each a fifty and said, "Thanks, again. And tell your boss how much we appreciate the help."
Billy laughed. "We're on our lunch break, Captain."
Morris grinned. "He won't hear about it from me, then."
They both saluted and walked off. Tony called out and said, "Check me on Saturday, brah." He called out something in a language I didn't understand. Billy waved over his shoulder.
Captain Morris walked up and said, "Looks like we can take off first light tomorrow. In fact, I'd prefer to do that. Sunrise will be right at 7 in the morning."
I nodded. "Fine. We can meet in the lobby at 6 then."
"Good. Sorry to hear about young Bobby."
I nodded. "Yeah. It's thrown us for a loop."
"You still"—the captain glanced at Tony—"want to go where we'd planned to go?"
"Yeah. We still have a job to do."
. . .
I slept through the whole drive. When I woke, Tony was pulling the car to a stop. I looked out the window. We were in front of a wood-frame house, freshly painted green with a bright white trim, and surrounded by palm trees. I got out of the car and stretched. Carter asked, "Get a good nap?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Still could use more."
"You can sleep on the beach. We drove by where Tony says that Jeff and John like to surf."
"Yeah," said Tony. "Half expected they'd be there. But the water looks flat. So, no surprise there."
"Is this where they live?" I asked.
He nodded. "Since September."
"Have you been here before?"
He grinned. "A couple of times."
I laughed. "Should I ask?"
"Nah. I don't kiss and tell."
Carter and I both laughed.
We followed Tony up the wide wooden steps to the front porch. The door was open but the screen was latched closed. He knocked on the door.
After a moment, an old woman slowly made her way to the screen and peered out at us. "Yes?" She was on the north side of 70, at least. She stood about 4'10" or so and was paper thin. Round steel-rimmed glasses sat on her broad nose. Her gray hair was tied in a bun held in place with an odd-looking piece of leather and a long stick. She was wearing a large floral-patterned dress that brushed the wooden floor and made a soft sigh as she moved. The dress looked as if it was several sizes too big.
In a loud voice, Tony said, "Hello Granny Suzuki! It's me, Tony Kalama. From Honolulu."
She looked at him closely and then smiled. "Tony! Nice to see you." I was expecting that she would have an accent but she didn't. She unlatched the screen. "Jeff is out back with his friend. They're working on their boards."
Tony removed his shoes and put them next to the door. "These are also some friends of Jeff."
"Friends?" She smiled at me and then seemed to be taken by surprised when she saw Carter behind me. "You're very tall!"
Using his five-star southern charm voice, Carter smiled and replied, "Yes, ma'am. How are you today?"
She giggled just like Tony's female relatives had at the hospital and said, "I'm just fine. We take off our shoes here, if you don't mind. And your socks, if you want. So much cooler that way."
Carter and I did just that. We both rolled up our trousers, left our shoes and socks next to Tony's, and followed him into the house.
Mrs. Suzuki carefully latched the screen behind us. "Don't want anything to fly or crawl in. Like I said, they're out back." She began to shuffle towards the back of the house. As she came around Carter, she stopped for a moment and looked up at him. "Did you buy the Thompson Plantation on Kauai last year?"
"Yes, ma'am, I did."
She nodded and then looked at me. "You're Nicholas Williams from San Francisco, then."
I nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
She smiled. "Welcome. Aloha."
. . .
When John saw us standing on the back porch, he dropped what he was holding, smiled broadly, and said, "Well, look at that."
Jeff, who was using what looked like a plane on a long strip of wood, glanced up at his lover and asked, "Look at what?"
"It's Nick and Carter."
The both whooped and ran up the steps to the porch. Jeff gave me a big hug and kissed me on the cheek. "How are you?"
I nodded and smiled. "Fine. Looks like you're doing well."
He nodded. "We're having the time of our lives. Building boards and surfing as much as we can."
I grinned. "Looks good on you."
He blushed slightly as John spun me around. "Nick!" He pulled me into a tight hug. "Good to see you, brah."
I laughed. "Good to see you, too."
Behind me I could hear Mrs. Suzuki say, "This is a happy day."
. . .
The five of us were stretched out on the beach. The sun was warm and the sound of the waves was putting me to sleep. Just like Tony had said, the water was flat, so there was no one out surfing. None of us were saying much. We'd caught up and were enjoying the sun and the breezes off the water.
I leaned up on my arm and looked over Carter's hairy chest. "Any of you know someone who's fluent in Cantonese?"
Tony sat up. "Sure. Me."
Carter asked, "Really?"
"My best friend from when I was 8 was from Canton. His mama taught me a few words. That's when I realized I had a knack for languages."
"How old are you?" I asked.
Jeff laughed. "Maybe we'll finally find out the truth."
Tony smiled at me. "How old do you think?"
I tried to do the math in my head but it was too warm and I was too drowsy. "You might have been born in '25 or '30." But that didn't seem to fit. Even with his smooth Polynesian features, he looked a lot older.
"Try 1910. But thanks for the compliment."
John laughed "You're 45 fuckin' years old?"
"Yep."
"How come you never, you know, got married or nuthin'?"
Tony laughed. "I did. His name was Pete."
Incredulously, Jeff asked, "You married some dude named Pete?"
John punched his lover in the arm. "Aikane, brah."
"Oh, yeah."
Tony looked at me. "My auntie married these two this morning."
John sat up and looked at me. "Really?"
I nodded. "That's what she said."
Tony sat up on the sand and crossed his legs. "She didn't do the whole ceremony but she said the words. It was real sweet."
"I thought that was old voodoo, man." That was Jeff.
John replied, "Nah, brah. It's real. Only don't tell
no priest." The three of them laughed at that.
. . .
As we were driving along the winding road that led back to Honolulu, I leaned forward and asked, "What happened to Pete?"
Tony didn't answer at first. "He was a real committed commie."
"A communist?" Carter asked.
Tony nodded. "Yeah. He believed in the revolution." He chuckled. "Back home in China, at least. Not so much here in the islands."
He watched the road and didn't say anything for a while. After a few minutes, Carter pulled out his handkerchief and handed it over. Tony nodded, wiped his eyes, and handed it back.
"He, uh, he joined up with the Lincoln Brigade to fight in the Spanish Civil War. Got on a ship here and sailed off in December of '36. I got a few letters from Spain in February of '37 and then nothing. I guess he died fighting fascism and Franco. Too bad Franco won and is still alive and kicking, the bastard."
As he talked, I noticed that his voice hardened. I realized his bravado was an act. I thought about Ike and how I'd seen him do the same thing several times. That made me think of Sam. I wondered how he was doing.
"What kinda work do you do?" That was Carter.
Tony laughed. His bravado was back. "Whatever comes my way, brah. It's island life. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do."
I sat back and thought about that for a long time.
Chapter 15
Royal Hawaiian Hotel
Tuesday, February 15, 1955
Half past 6 in the evening
We pulled up in front of the hotel at half past 6 that evening. It felt like we'd been gone for days, but it had been just a few hours.
Tony threw the keys at me. "Well, gents, it's been nice."
Carter said, "Come on in and let's—"
Tony shook his head. "Nah. It's the Royal Hawaiian. No Hawaiians allowed. 'Cept through the back door, of course." He looked at Carter. "You know how that works."
Carter nodded thoughtfully. "Then where can we meet you for dinner?"
Tony shrugged. He seemed to be irritated, for some reason. "It's OK, man. You gotta go where you gotta go and I'm—"
As we were standing there, blocking other cars, I interrupted him. "I want to hire you to go with us to Hong Kong. Do you have a passport?"
"Me?"
Carter huffed. "Cantonese?" Then he added, "Brah."
That made Tony laugh. He pointed. "There's a little shack down at the end of the beach. No name on it but some of the best food in town. Meet me there in an hour. Can't miss it."
The Sodden Sailor (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 11) Page 14
