“I don’t think I will drink with you,” said Ricky Lee, turning to leave the bar.
“Hey, come on, I only hit you a little bit.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Lee. “My mother used to hit me harder than you did. All the same, I’ll skip it. Gotta go.”
“What’s your rush?” Kimo moved toward the smaller man, but cautiously, the way a lion would approach a cobra.
Ricky backed away from the large cop, keeping the door within easy distance.
Kimo advanced, moving to cut off the entry as a means of escape. “You really should have a drink with me,” he said. “Let bygones be bygones. I’m not your enemy. I’m your friend.”
“Yeah, you’re my friend. Don’t come any closer!” Ricky reached under his shirt and pulled a pair of long black sai from his waistband.
Kimo stopped, watching the foot-long Chinese fighting irons, deadly in the hands of an expert. The two weapons would more than make up for Ricky’s smaller size. The only way Kimo could take him would be to shoot him.
“Whoa,” said Kimo, putting his hands up.
“Leave me alone,” said Lee, his voice low and steady. “Leave me alone and I will not have to protect myself. You’ve got a gun. I don’t carry. It’s not illegal to protect myself. Even from a cop.”
Kimo nodded, unwilling to debate a pair of sai. He stepped back a few steps. “You just bought yourself some real trouble, Ricky.”
“Like I didn’t have it already. Why’re you following me?”
“Wasn’t. Caine and I were following a trail. You showed up here after us. You hunting, too?”
“Let me go.”
“There’s the door,” Kimo pointed.
Ricky did not take his eyes off Kimo, the tension between them holding them together, yet apart, like the simultaneously opposing and attracting poles of two magnets, wanting to separate, yet unable to do so.
Another shadow eased into the bar, aware of the tension, yet unaware of the participants.
“Felix.” I said the word aloud.
Ricky turned.
Kimo lunged.
Ricky turned back but it was too late. Kimo had pinned him to the grimy linoleum. Felix saw me and tip-toed around the combatants. “You need help, Kemosabe?”
“Kimo might,” I said, but was wrong. Kimo had already disarmed the smaller man and turned him onto his face, cuffing his hands behind his back. He moved automatically, with precision and grace, not a motion out of place.
He hauled the little man to his feet, the twin black sai in his left fist looking like toys.
Felix turned to face the others in the bar. They stood quietly, but alert, watching Kimo and Ricky, showing no appetite to become involved. “Looks like I got here just in time,” he said.
“How did you find me?”
“LoJack.”
“Come again?”
“LoJack. Kimo’s Cherokee has the tracking system. I asked Tala to make the call and they gave her the location. Saw the bar and knew you had to be in here.”
“Having grapefruit juice.”
He nodded. “Sure you are.”
“Am I under arrest?” asked Ricky.
“You wanna go to jail?”
“No.”
“Then behave yourself,” said Kimo, hauling him outside into the harsh afternoon light.
“Let’s go,” said Felix. “You finish your grapefruit juice?”
I nodded. We followed Kimo and Ricky out into the dusty parking lot. Felix faced the wall, his hands cuffed behind his back overshadowed by the big cop. Kimo unlocked the cuffs and stepped away from the little warrior, as if expecting a counterattack.
Ricky rubbed his wrists and stood still. He didn’t even turn around.
“This is a warning to you, Ricky Lee,” said Kimo. “Don’t try me. You pull a weapon on me again and I’ll hurt you. You behave yourself and we’ll get along. You understand me?”
Still facing the wall, Lee nodded slowly.
“Okay then,” said Kimo, turning around and pocketing his handcuffs. “That was a wasted effort,” he said, watching Ricky disappear.
“Whole day was,” I said.
“Learned some things.”
“Yeah?”
“Didn’t find my boy.”
“He might be back home. You call?”
He shook his head. “You got your ride home, I see. I think I’ll just head for the barn. See if he came back. Tutu Mae will know what to do. I’m sorry I dragged you out all day with me. I’m sure you would have rather done something else with your time.”
“And miss all this excitement?”
I turned to Felix, who stood off from the group, as if afraid of what Kimo might do next.
“Take me back to the Royal Hawaiian,” I said to him. “There’s just enough time left to take Angel to a nice dinner and a walk on the beach. Tomorrow will come soon enough and I think this is one of those nights when it will pay for a man like me to stay up all night.”
35
At my request, Felix dropped me off at the curb at Kalakaua Avenue and Seaside. He let me go alone. I was sure that he wasn’t happy about it, having spent some creative effort to find me, only to lose me again, but I gave him leave. I wanted to be alone.
I strolled through the rows of shops to the green lawn in front of the old pink monarch of Waikiki. It’s a form of time travel to enter the Royal Hawaiian from the street. You leave one millennium and you suddenly return to the last one, where the pace is slower, the architecture more refined, and the world seems to have stopped spinning. At least while you remain.
I wished I could have made the world stop spinning. Ancient Hawaii had places of refuge where criminals could seek absolution for their crimes. As long as they remained behind the walls they would be safe from prosecution and punishment. Even capital crimes were forgiven if the priests granted it. I wished it were the case with the Royal Hawaiian.
“Good evening, Mr. Caine.”
The woman behind the front desk smiled at me expectantly.
“Good evening,” I said, aware of the beer stench and stale cigarette smoke that I wore like a bad suit.
“You have some messages here,” she said, handing me a pile of pale pink stationery.
“Thank you,” I said, unable to recall the young woman’s name.
“Enjoy your stay with us,” she said, turning to her companion behind the desk, whispering, I was certain, about the friends that I had in high places.
I skimmed through the messages while I rode the elevator to my suite. Tala had called, informing me that my hearing was in the morning. “Wear your suit,” her message said. She had called three more times; the last time the message was marked “Urgent.” That had been at three o’clock, some six hours before. Daniel had called twice; his last message said he would try my cellular, something I had forgotten to bring with me. Felix had left a message.
Missed communications. Errors in judgment. People trying to help, whether paid, or paying off a debt. On what might have been my last day in paradise I had been in limbo, almost as if I had already moved on and taken a room in purgatory.
I opened the door to the suite to find it deserted. Angelica was gone, flown to whatever coop she flew to when she wasn’t at my side. The rooms smelled of her, a lingering flowery scent that made me think of lilac and smooth tan skin. The bathroom was vacant of her toiletries, the closet empty of her clothing. She had left no note. She had fulfilled her duties and would not be coming back.
One more sign that life was changing. Tomorrow would be the determining event. Tomorrow we would see what kind of stuff John Caine was made of.
On the counter of the wet bar I found a note in Daniel’s block printing. “See Chawlie,” was all it said. “See Chawlie” was all it needed to say.
I took off my stinky hunting clothes and carefully washed myself from head to toe, mindful that I would be doing that myself now that my nurses were gone. Satisfied that I no longer smelled like a sodden barfly, I dress
ed in light wool trousers, a silk Hawaiian shirt of muted pattern, and my best pair of sandals. Chawlie would expect me. And he would know when I arrived at the hotel.
I called downstairs for a taxi to take me to Chinatown.
36
Chawlie stood when he saw me, an uncharacteristic event. He took my arm and led me into his private chamber behind the round red door, sat me down and personally served me from his own teapot. That, too, was atypical. He said nothing of substance until the room was vacant but for the two of us.
I sat against the pillows, leaving the green tea untouched on the table, and waited, knowing that this was what Chawlie expected. He took his time, stirring a little brandy into each of our cups. I could sense the expectation in him. He knew something, and he wanted to tell me what it was. Whether he would tell me or not would be up to him. I doubted at the moment that he knew what he was going to say.
Finally he raised his head and looked at me. His eyes, normally unreadable black pebbles, were alive with sadness.
“Have you considered life and death?”
“As life and afterlife?”
“As life and no-life. Skip the children’s tales. Here we have light. There we have only darkness. We have nothing.”
“Yes. I have considered it.”
“What do you think?”
“I think that no one really knows.”
Chawlie smiled a knowing smile. “You hedge your bets, John Caine. You want to believe, but you cannot be honest with yourself?”
“That’s possible, old friend.”
“Old friend. That is the problem, isn’t it?”
“Is this part of your efforts toward enlightenment? Or is it because you see the approach of death?”
Chawlie started when I said that. “You are reading minds these days?”
“No, but don’t bluff an old bluffer when you’re feeling like this. You’re holding more aces than most people. You’ve had it better than most kings who ever lived. And now you seek enlightenment. You want to live forever. Of course you would, the life you’ve lived. I would, too, if I were you, old friend.”
“Chawlie is getting along in years. Things that interest me now never interested me before. And things that used to stir my passions no longer hold my interest.”
I nodded. That explained the recent lack of young female attendants.
“Do you think Daniel can handle the enterprise? Or is he too harsh?”
“He’s a brick,” I said. “Daniel can handle anything.”
“He’s ruthless and smart. He would kill and he would not be caught if it were required. And he would not kill unless necessary. He would do anything to protect me. And the enterprises.”
“He reminds me of you many years ago.”
Chawlie nodded. “I have had that same observation. He is right to take over.”
“What about Gilbert? I thought he was your number one son.”
“I’m not Charlie Chan, I’m Chawlie Choy. Gilbert is a nice boy, but he does not have what it takes to lead. It pained me, but I have reached that conclusion. It is only Daniel.”
“And what will you do?”
“I have my bonsai trees, and I have my concerns and hobbies. It is not too much to ask for me to spend my remaining days in contemplation and peace.”
The old man had found his bolt-hole, and he was contemplating passing the scepter. That he would discuss it with me was fascinating. That he would actually go through with it was another thing entirely. But I knew he had been contemplating the move.
I had seen it start when Daniel had been shot. That event had caused the thought processes to follow.
“Daniel would be the perfect one to take over.”
“Would you help him, John Caine? He will need your guidance.”
“You would be here.”
“I will not, whether I am in light or in darkness. Once I leave this place I will not return.”
“You are going to China?”
He gasped, his mouth open. “Why would you say that?”
“If you were here, on this island, watching, you could not help yourself. The only way you could turn over the reins to Daniel would be to leave. Go to China, buy your peace and retire.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” said Chawlie. “If I go I will miss you.”
“Are you going soon?”
He sighed. “It is more complicated than that. Chawlie got you in trouble, John Caine. Chawlie did everything he could to help you. It is not enough.”
He expected an answer but I didn’t know what to say. I nodded gently, to let him know I was listening.
“Chawlie find out that lady detective from San Francisco wants to convict you. It is all her doing. She is ambitious person. She is also a dangerous person. I sent Daniel to find out about her. She is not married. She is without children. She only has one passion. That is to convict, convict, convict. She is the one who put you in jail. Without her, you would not be in trouble. Daniel knows where she lives, what is her schedule. And she is now in Honolulu, here for your hearing tomorrow. Chawlie and Daniel both ask your permission to kill her. Tonight.”
That was a surprise until I thought about it. I let the thought float effortlessly in my consciousness, considering it. But I knew the answer I was going to give. “No,” I said.
“She will kill you with her authority!”
“It’s not right, Chawlie. I appreciate the offer, and I understand that she is doing what she is doing for reasons other than justice. But killing Shirley Henderson cannot get me what I seek, either.”
Chawlie closed his eyes. “Daniel can do it, make it look like she had a bad meal.”
“No, Chawlie,” I said, hoping he would understand the threat. “She may have set the wheels in motion, but they cannot be called back. Killing her would solve nothing. It would create more problems for all of us.”
“John Caine, I try to stop this case. Chawlie knows many people, here and there. He pay much money. Nothing he does can stop it. Only this woman,” he emphasized her sex, much as he would use the word as a curse, “this woman is your worst enemy.”
“No, Chawlie. There will be no killing police officers on my account.”
“Then you are a fool, John Caine.”
“I may be a fool, but you are not killing that woman.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“I know that you support me. I know that I will be protected, in jail and out. I know that my lawyer here and my lawyers in California will do the best job that they can. I don’t like the system any better than you do, but I will face whatever comes.”
“You cannot trust in the system. Only family.”
I nodded. “Sometimes it seems that we cannot. But sometimes we do not have any other choice but to trust.”
“You mean that?”
“Yes.”
“Then Detective Henderson will be protected, as well.”
“Thank you, old friend. You would do me a disservice to kill her.”
He nodded. “Daniel told me that you would say that.”
I wondered about the power that I had held in my hand. Anyone has the power to destroy. Even the weakest among us can destroy the lives of those around them. But the power to save is one that only the truly powerful can claim.
“Is that all?”
“Good luck tomorrow. Daniel will be there with you. He will testify that you saved his life.”
“Do you think it will help?”
“Nothing will help you now. Your life is in the hands of the judge here in Honolulu, and in the hands of twelve strangers in San Francisco.”
“That’s not true.”
“What?”
“My life is in my hands. It’s always been in my hands. Whatever happens from this point forward, I caused it to happen. Not Shirley Henderson, not you, not the district attorney, not that crazy gunman who shot Daniel and me. This is the path that I went down a long time ago. And this is the result. It should not ha
ve been a surprise. My kind went out of fashion a long time ago. The world is a soft place now. I’m not even sure that my kind are needed anymore.”
“Don’t feel sorry for yourself, John Caine,” said Chawlie. “The world is still a hard place. Those who say that warriors are out of place in this world are foolish. They are sheep, trying to ignore the wolves. They dare not look into the shadows for fear that they might see those who wait.”
“That won’t do me any good now.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Your trial will tell. Whatever happens, do not, for one instant, lose faith in yourself, in what you are. And do not lose faith in Chawlie.”
“Do not worry, old friend. I will never forget.”
“Perhaps you are the wiser man. Daniel also argued against killing the woman. Only Chawlie thought it a good idea.”
“It isn’t a good idea.”
Chawlie bowed. “She will owe you her life and not know it. She will always hate you and will never know that she lives because of your generosity.”
“It wasn’t generosity.”
“Wisdom, then.”
“You don’t kill people who don’t threaten you. It is the state that threatens me, not the detective. And you can’t kill the state. As bad as it is, you have to trust, sometimes.”
Chawlie nodded. “Chawlie hope for a good outcome in the hearing tomorrow, and Chawlie hope for a good outcome in the trial in San Francisco. And Chawlie hope you come back so you can help Donna Wong with the gold she found in the king’s tomb.”
“How did you know about that?”
“Donna Wong is family. Daughter of distant cousin. Chawlie know about gold before Detective Kahanamoku’s grandmother know about the gold.”
“Are you interested in the gold?”
“Only that it is protected. Chawlie doesn’t need gold or silver. Sunken Spanish treasure always cause problems for those who find it. If not from treasure hunters, then from the state. And you, yourself, told me that the state cannot be killed when it threatens you.”
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