The Sodden Sailor (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 11)

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The Sodden Sailor (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 11) Page 15

by Frank W. Butterfield


  I walked over and put three C-notes in his hand. "For driving these two haoles around the island."

  He looked at it and his eyes widened. "Sure." He winked at me. "But lay off the Hawaiian, brah."

  I smiled. "Sure thing."

  . . .

  "What's the latest with Sam, doll?" I was calling Marnie at home. I could hear something cooking in the background.

  "He's getting better. Mrs. K called and said he's not as pale. He's gonna be fine, for sure, Nick. She said Mrs. S got permission to make his food."

  "Got permission?"

  "I believe my mother was involved."

  I rolled my eyes. "That poor man."

  "Who?"

  "Whoever the hospital administrator is at St. Mary's."

  She laughed. "Poor ain't the word, Nick. Your foundation is down for some new building."

  I laughed. "Your mother?"

  "You got it."

  I suddenly had an idea. I wondered if it would work. "Listen, doll, I know you're in the middle of cooking dinner, but can you put an apron around Alex and get a notepad? I need you to do some things for me as soon as possible."

  "Sure. Hold on." She put the receiver down and I could hear her talking to Alex. "Just stir." He replied something. She said, "You'll do fine. You're French, after all." He laughed. She picked up the phone. "OK, whatcha got?"

  I gave her a list of people to call and what to say to them. I had her read it back to me. As she did, I realized I needed to add a couple of more parts to the puzzle.

  "Well, be sure to get some photographs of all that, Nick."

  "Just check the Chronicle and the Call-Bulletin, doll. I'm sure it will be all over the place."

  "But not in the Examiner," she added.

  "Probably not."

  "Have a safe trip, Nick."

  "Will do, doll."

  . . .

  The sun had set when we headed out for dinner. We brought Captain O'Reilly and Murphy along with us. Since none of us knew where we were going, I stopped one of the bellboys and asked him about the place that Tony had said was at the end of the beach. He knew where it was and suggested we take a cab since it was after dark and we might get lost.

  The cab driver dropped us off in front of an old wood-frame building that looked like it was falling apart. But there was some serious jazz coming from a jukebox inside and that immediately got Carter's attention.

  We walked in and found a mix of people and a lot of noise. No kids, which made sense. The place was more like a juke joint than a restaurant. Once I realized what kind of place it was, I relaxed a bit. There were couples in the life, here and there, but mostly it was either loud groups of sailors and marines in uniform or loud groups of fishermen or loud groups of women gathered together. They were all competing to be heard over the horn of Miles Davis. There was every color under the rainbow but one. The four of us stuck out like snowflakes.

  Tony saw us, walked up, and hugged me. "Come on in." He pulled me over to a table where a grinning Chinese man was holding an unlabeled beer bottle in one hand and chopsticks in the other. He was shoveling some sort of seafood into his mouth as fast as I'd ever seen anyone do.

  "Lee, this is Nick."

  The man put down the chopsticks and the beer, swallowed, and wiped his hands on his grungy shirt. "How are ya, Nick?" He offered his hand, which I shook.

  "Fine." I pointed. "This is Carter. And Dan. And Johnny." Everyone shook as Tony and I brought a couple of stools to the table.

  "I didn't know you'd be bringing friends."

  "They're the reason we're going to Hong Kong." I had to shout to be heard.

  Tony nodded. "Let's eat and then we can all go for a walk on the beach and talk about whatever it is you're doing." Once again, I was struck by the hardness in his voice. I looked at his face and saw a grit and a determination I wasn't expecting. I wondered about that.

  . . .

  Carter charmed a hamburger sandwich out of the cook by using his southern accent. The rest of us ate whatever Tony ordered for us. I had no idea what most of it was but one dish reminded me of the raw fish that John had made for us over on Kauai that was similar to a dish I'd had down in Mexico.

  Lee pointed out that the food was a mix of different things: Portuguese, Japanese, Chinese, Hawaiian, even Korean. I liked it all. The beer was a local brew that didn't seem to have a name. All I knew was that it was cold and went down smooth.

  I paid for dinner but it came to less than twenty for all us so I added another twenty and we made our way down to the water. Once we were twenty or thirty feet away from the place, I finally felt like I could talk in a normal voice. There were a few couples sitting on the sand and necking. We made our way past them and to a spot where there were picnic tables and sat around one of those. We'd each brought a fresh bottle of beer. Lee produced a bottle opener and passed it around.

  "Who makes this?" I asked.

  Tony replied, "It's a place up near where we went today. Not really legal. But it sure is good."

  I nodded. "It sure is."

  Tony got right to the point. "I brought Lee out so you could meet him. I get the feeling that you have some job you're doing in Hong Kong that might not be on the up-and-up."

  I nodded, surprised for a third time at his change in demeanor. I put up my hand. "Wait. Before we go on, what is this?"

  I could see his white teeth in the dark as he grinned. "What's what?"

  Carter asked, "Yeah. What is this?"

  Tony took a chug of his beer and shrugged.

  Lee answered. "Tony used to do some work for the O.S.S."

  Murphy slammed his hand on the table. "That's where I recognize you from, isn't it?"

  Tony laughed. "Sure. I know you from working in Chungking."

  Murphy added, "And Canton."

  Tony nodded but didn't say anything.

  I asked, "Did this involve the Nationalists?"

  They both said, "Yes," in unison. They laughed and clinked their bottles together.

  I asked Lee, "What about you?"

  Tony said, "You'll never get any answers from him."

  Lee took a swig of his beer and said, "I did my work for the Kuomintang. Lotta good it did 'em, but I did."

  O'Reilly reached over and clinked his bottle against Lee's. "God bless the generalissimo."

  "Hear, hear," echoed the other three.

  . . .

  Once O'Reilly had laid out the plan, I added my latest ideas. After some back and forth about the feasibility of it all, I asked Tony and Lee, "Are you two in?"

  They both nodded. Someone had started a bonfire on the beach and I could see their faces in the firelight. They both looked tough. More than I would have expected.

  "How much?" asked Lee.

  "A hundred a day plus all expenses." I replied.

  He nodded. "Sounds good. When do we leave?"

  "At 7 in the morning from the airport. Tony knows the plane. Bring your black tie, if you have it."

  Lee laughed. "The one called The Flying Fireman?"

  I nodded and looked at Carter who shrugged.

  "You a fireman?" asked Lee.

  "He used to be," I answered. "Don't you—"

  Carter put his hand over my mouth and said, "Just enjoy it, Nick." He took his hand away and kissed me. I just nodded in agreement.

  . . .

  Once we were in the air the next morning, Carter and I gave Tony and Lee a tour of the plane. I showed them both the hidey-hole and asked about their passports.

  "Here's mine." Tony offered his.

  Without looking at it, I asked, "Is it valid?"

  He nodded.

  I looked at Lee. "Yours?"

  He offered his.

  "Valid?"

  He nodded, too.

  "Fine. Then everyone can get into Hong Kong, right?"

  Lee shook his head. "Nope. Not me. The British don't like me."

  Before I could open my mouth, Tony said, "Don't ask. He won't tell you."

>   "OK. When we land in Tokyo, we'll stow you down there. Same for Hong Kong."

  Lee nodded. "Fine by me, Boss."

  "Name's Nick."

  "Whatever you say, Boss."

  . . .

  I was dead to the world when Carter shook me. "Nick?"

  I sat up on the bed. We were still in the air. I looked out the window. The big blue ocean was shining down below. "What?"

  "Captain O'Reilly wants to meet with just the two of us."

  I nodded.

  "You might wanna wash your face," added Carter with a grin.

  I stumbled into the bathroom that was connected to the bedroom. I looked in the mirror. My hair was sticking out in all directions. I wet it down until it didn't.

  I heard Carter say, "He's washing his face, Captain."

  I walked back into the bedroom. O'Reilly had a grim look on his face.

  "What's the matter?" I asked.

  He looked up at Carter and then at me. "We've been goin' over the plans and realized we need to make a change."

  Carter nodded. "And?"

  "The thing is, Mr. Jones, we need you to stay in Hong Kong. You can't go with us. I should've said something earlier but I was hoping you'd realize it yourself."

  I laughed. "He's too tall?"

  O'Reilly nodded. "You're almost too tall, yourself, Mr. Williams. But we need five men on this job and so..."

  Carter shrugged. "I can stay behind."

  I looked at him for a long moment and then turned back to O'Reilly. "This is your job, Captain, so we'll do what you say."

  He smiled grimly. "Thank you, Mr. Williams. I wasn't quite sure how to bring this up."

  I took him by the arm and led him to the door. "It's fine. We'll be out in a bit."

  I closed the door behind him and turned around. Carter was sitting on the bed with a worried expression on his face. "How am I gonna wait for you?" He looked almost lost. I'd never seen that expression on his face.

  I sat next to him and leaned against him. "I know how you feel, Chief."

  "You do?"

  "Yeah. I had the same feeling when you used to go to work and would be gone for a day or two or three at the firehouse. Remember the rule about calling you at the firehouse?"

  He laughed. "Never call me at the firehouse."

  I took his big hand in mine. "Right. You'll be fine." I thought for a moment. "This might work out for the best." I explained how and he laughed. I said, "Are you OK with all of that?"

  He turned and kissed me seriously. It was intense and the passion was immediate. When he finally came up for air, I asked, "Where'd that come from?"

  He pushed me down on the bed and held my arms in place with his hands. He looked at me for a long time without answering. Finally, he said, "I love you so much, Nick."

  I nodded. "I love you too, Carter."

  He dropped on the bed and pulled me into his arms. We stayed in that position, without speaking, until Christine knocked on the door to announce we were getting close to landing in Tokyo.

  . . .

  A young Japanese man in a uniform that was a little too large knocked on the door of the plane. Captain Morris was there to open it and welcome him in.

  The rest of us were seated around the large table behind the galley. After checking the flight manifest and Captain Morris' passport, the young man followed the captain to the table.

  "Would you like to have a seat?" asked Christine.

  "No, thank you." He looked around the table. "Please present passports."

  We all placed them on the table, just as Captain Morris had told us to do.

  He stood at one end of the table with a ridiculously large clipboard and pointed to me. "Please come forward with your passport."

  I stood and walked up to him. He opened the small blue book and looked at the photo and then at me. He nodded and, using his clipboard, made a note of my name and passport number. "Destination?"

  "Hong Kong."

  He made another note, nodded, returned my passport, and said, "Thank you."

  I walked back to my seat and watched as he did the same with the rest of us. Murphy's passport was Irish, which made him stand out. The official asked him about his work. "Ship's Mate." And his place of birth. "Dublin." The official asked if Murphy had ever been arrested. "Yes." The man nodded and said, "Entry to Japan is denied. Transit only." I wondered why he didn't ask any of us if we'd been arrested. My guess was that only Christine would have been allowed in if he'd done so.

  Once he was done taking our names and passport numbers, the official looked at the flight manifest and then looked at his list. He asked Captain Morris, "Where is Lee Sun?"

  The captain smiled. "He wasn't able to make the flight. We left him in Honolulu."

  The man nodded and made a note on his clipboard. "All may disembark within confines of Haneda Airport except Mr. John Murphy. You may depart when you have clearance by the airport authorities." He bowed at the waist, turned, and quickly made his way down the stairs.

  . . .

  Once we were in the air, Tony and I walked back into the bedroom to let Lee out of the hidey-hole.

  As he walked up the narrow steps, he grinned. "Not bad. And you can hear everything in the main cabin. I found a small vent." He handed me a tape recorder just like those that Mike had shown us in San Francisco. "You know about this?"

  "Yeah. My team pulled most of them out. They must have missed that one."

  He shook his head. "Probably not. The wire had been cut so it wasn't working." He pointed to the spool of tape. "Nothing's been recorded."

  I tossed the device on the bed. "Thanks."

  He looked around my shoulder and said, "Must be nice being the boss man. You get your own bed and everything."

  Tony laughed. "And his own husband to sleep with in it."

  The two of them laughed as Lee winked at me.

  Chapter 16

  Kai Tak Airport

  Kowloon Bay, British Crown Colony of Hong Kong

  Thursday, February 17, 1955

  Half past 7 in the evening

  Carter and I were in our best suits. His was a dark navy. He wore the sapphire cufflinks and a red tie. Mine was navy and I was wearing the emerald cufflinks with a dark green tie.

  While we were in Tokyo, we'd gone into the hold and pulled the suits out of the trunk. Christine, by some miracle, had been able to steam out the wrinkles.

  Captain O'Reilly was in the dress whites that he'd bought a year or so ago on a whim. I was surprised he'd brought them along.

  Murphy and Tony were both decked out in mechanics overalls that we'd "borrowed" from Tony's friend who worked for T.W.A. in Honolulu. Christine had removed all the company insignia and somehow tailored them to fit the two men perfectly.

  Carter and I were standing a few feet back from the door when Captain Morris opened it. A man in a British army uniform saluted the captain and announced himself. "Colonel J. William Bonham, on behalf of Sir Alexander Grantham, Governor of the British Crown Colony of Hong Kong." He dropped the salute when Captain Morris returned it. "Permission to come aboard?"

  Captain Morris stepped back. "Please do, Colonel Bonham."

  He stood about 5'9", sported a thick chestnut mustache, had dancing brown eyes, and was somewhere between 40 and 50. He looked at me and offered his hand. "Mr. Williams, I presume?"

  I shook. "Pleasure to meet you, Colonel Bonham. May I present my friend, Carter Jones?"

  Carter offered his hand. The colonel shook it firmly and made an exaggerated gesture of looking up. "A distinct honor, Mr. Jones. The governor wished for me to personally deliver his thanks for your very generous donation for the further expansion of Queen Mary Hospital. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to be here to meet your arrival. However, he has asked me to invite you to a tour of Queen Mary on Saturday afternoon to be followed by a reception at Government House in the early evening."

  Carter smiled and replied, "Thank you, Colonel. We'll be honored to be there." His southern c
harm was pegging at about a four on a scale of five.

  The colonel frowned slightly and glanced at me. "Right, then. There's a small crowd waiting below to greet you. Local muckety-mucks and all that, what?" Without waiting for any reply to that, the colonel stepped out the door and waved. Suddenly, we could hear a band playing The Star-Spangled Banner.

  I heard O'Reilly mutter, "For the love of Mike." as Carter and I followed the colonel down the stairs. I walked behind Carter and motioned to O'Reilly to follow me, which he did with a wink.

  . . .

  The local muckety-mucks had included a delegation of local Chinese merchants, a small number of military commanders of different branches and ranks, and an even smaller group of local society ladies, all British. There was a single reporter there with a couple of photographers.

  Colonel Bonham escorted us through the small crowd to a silver Rolls-Royce. "Courtesy of the hotel," he told us as he saluted and walked away with his duty fulfilled. Carter and I sat in the back. O'Reilly took the jump seat in front of me and behind the driver.

  We were staying at The Peninsula Hotel. It was close to the airport. The trip only took twenty minutes even though the early-evening traffic was barely moving. The driver was skilled at getting people to move out of his way using the car's horn.

  As we came around a bend in the road, I could see the U-shaped hotel. It was set on a broad avenue across from a series of railroad tracks and a train station. The harbor was just beyond that. The building was lit up and stood seven stories high from the ground. The car glided into the semi-circular drive and stopped. In front of the hotel was a beautiful fountain, lit up in the night and quite spectacular with sprays of water dancing constantly.

  A Chinese kid dressed in an impeccable white uniform with a white box hat opened the door on my side. I stepped out, followed by Carter, and then O'Reilly.

  A tall, thin British man with a thin mustache, a thinning head of black hair, and dressed in black tie walked forward and bowed slightly. "Mr. Williams?"

  I nodded.

  "Welcome to The Peninsula." As he spoke, he had a very smooth British accent. "I am Mr. Fortescue, the hotel assistant manager. Will you follow me, please?"

 

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