Unknown Victim

by Kay Hadashi

  “I wonder what they call Filipino guidos?” Gina asked herself as she drove by. “Joey Scapone would fit in pretty good with these guys.”

  She went around the block the same as she would’ve if she’d been on patrol. She made note of the one alley that didn’t seem to have an outlet, and where the nearest intersection with a traffic signal was located. When she parked behind the store, there was only one way in or out. She made sure she had enough space to back out and around if she needed to get away in a hurry.

  She felt naked walking to the front door of the place without a shield on her chest, a sidearm, or nightstick through a belt loop. All she could take was her coin purse, which she stuffed to the bottom of her front pocket. When she went past the two men that needed something better to do with their lives that lean against a wall, one made a kissy sound while the other said something in a language that she thankfully couldn’t understand.

  When Gina got inside the store, she exhaled, letting some of the tension escape. The place was just like any other corner convenience store, with a checkout counter near the door, aisles down the middle, and coolers all around the walls. Only half the lights were on, and the air was a little too stuffy for Gina’s tastes. There was a smell like the kitchen trash needing to be taken out.

  The man at the counter had an oscillating fan aimed right at him. He said something to her.

  She raised her chin and gave him a lip sneer. It was the same tough look she gave to someone right before she slapped cuffs on them in the past. Facial posturing in Little Italy. “Sorry. Didn’t understand.”

  “Help you find something?”

  She grabbed a hand basket. “I can find it.”

  As she went up and down every row, she noticed the shoplifter mirrors. From what she saw, every corner and aisle in the place could be seen from the front counter. The man never did leave his position at the cash register, but she did notice him watch her in the mirrors. Tossing a few things into her basket that she didn’t really need, she saved the beer cooler for last. That was on the back wall, the furthest from the door, and had the most mirrors aimed at it.

  All the usual brands were there, along with Japanese and Korean brands. If nothing else, whoever Pinoy Boy was had a full selection of beer. What he didn’t have was Tuyo brand beer. Grabbing a cheap bottle of chablis, she went back to the front counter with her purchases. No scanning was done, just numbers chosen randomly out of the heavy air, and a final cost was determined with a single touch to the cash register.

  She handed over her credit card.

  “Cash only.”

  Gina dug out a twenty that she’d got from an ATM earlier in the day. Maybe because of the stuffy interior, or maybe because she didn’t like being in the store alone, Gina had broken into a sweat.

  “You stay around here?” he asked after snatching the twenty from her hand.

  “Not too far.”

  “Never seen you before. What family you with?”

  “Santoros.” Gina silently scolded herself for handing over her real name.

  “Don’t know them.”

  “We’re around.” She wiped her sweaty hand on her hip right where her sidearm had been while in the police force. “What about my change?”

  He was sweating as much as she was, with a bead rolling down the crease between his nose and cheek. He didn’t wipe it away. “Some kind of big hurry?”

  “Just reminding you.”

  He turned slightly to the cash register and hit a button. That popped the drawer open. She watched his hand as he put the twenty in. There weren’t the usual slots and compartments for coins and bills. Instead, there were a couple of bundles of cash rubber-banded together. The only other thing in the drawer was a revolver. Seeing that, she looked back at his eyes. He was still looking at her.

  “You find everything you need?” he asked.

  “Mostly.”

  His hand went to the bundle next to the gun and included her twenty there.

  The door opened, the bell above it chirping. The two guidos that had been outside came in. Again, they made wise-guy remarks about her in a Filipino language. The man at the register slammed the drawer shut. He watched them intently as they went down two separate aisles.

  “You need something else?” he asked Gina, while watching the men in the mirrors.

  “I was looking for Tuyo beer.”

  He looked at her. “Don’t got it. Why a nice girl like you want that stuff?”

  “You know where I can find it? Another store near here?”

  “Be smart and drink something else. Big sale on Bud right now.”

  “Doesn’t answer my question.”

  He went back to watching the mirrors. “Pretty sure it’s not sold in stores. Just in bars.”

  “Which ones?” she asked.

  “The kind you don’t go to.”

  Gina felt a bead of sweat run down her neck. “Got a name of one?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’m not leaving without a name.”

  “Suit yourself. I’m open all night. You can stand there till the sun shines in Alaska for all I care.”

  “I could do that.” Gina lowered her voice. “Or I could ask for the change from my twenty right about the time those two punks come back here. I doubt you want them to see those two rolls you got in the till.”

  He seemed to do a subtle posture with his head and shoulders. “You a cop?”

  “Do I look like a cop?”

  As a bead of sweat went down his face, one broke free from Gina’s hairline and went past an ear.

  “What’re you lookin’ for again?”

  “Tuyo beer.”

  “Ask your two boyfriends. They’re the kind to drink that.”

  Gina noticed the two guys walk up to her. One had a pony-pack of Schlitz, the other a bag of beef jerky. Gina gave them a guido grin of her own. “Looking for Tuyo. Either one of you knuckleheads know where I can find it?”

  “Why’s a fine lookin’ lady like you want Tuyo?”

  “You got an answer for me, or are we wasting each other’s time?” she asked.

  “If you want answers, maybe the three of us can waste some time back at my place?” the one with the gold chain said.

  “Maybe another time. What about the Tuyo?”

  The two punks looked at each other. “Only Tuyo I ever seen is at Bunzo’s Bar.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Everybody knows Bunzo’s.”

  “I guess I forgot. Where is it?” she asked.

  “Three blocks down,” the man behind the register said. “Best you don’t go by yourself.”

  The punk with the chain grinned at her. “Not gonna find someone there better than me.”

  “Probably not. I’m more interested in the Tuyo.”

  Gina knew she’d pushed her luck with the punks, and also knew better than to ask for the change from her twenty. Almost forgetting to take her bag with her, she made haste for the Datsun.

  “Yeah, that was fun.” Gina wiped the sweat from her face and neck as she went through the starting procedure for the pickup. “I should do that again sometime.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  When the workweek tumbled to an end on Friday, Gina checked on the progress with the long row of trees that had been trimmed by Flor. He’d been conservative with his pruning, and so far, it looked okay. While the pruning took place, some fruit had been harvested, which was packed in crates and set aside to be sold at a farmers’ market the next day.

  “Not that I know what tropical fruit trees are supposed to look like,” she muttered as she went to the hole in the ground that would eventually become the koi pond.

  One of the field workers dutifully went through each wheelbarrow of dirt after it had been dumped in a pile with the metal detector. He had a small pile of rusted metal scraps off to one side.

  “Fine anything good?” she asked.

  “Rust.”

  “Looks like it. Anything interesting?”
/>
  “I think someone used the pond as a trash dump after the Tanizawas left the farm. Just cans, nails, part of a bike.”

  Gina saw that most of the bike was there, and was barely rusted or even dirty. One of the kids was playing a game with it, seeing what kind of noise the chain could make. “Maybe you’ll find the wheels.”

  She walked Felix back to his pickup after work.

  “How are the walls inside the house coming?” she asked.

  “I’ll be done with them by the end of next week. Is there a hurry?”

  “Just curious. You’ll paint them after that?”

  Felix nodded. “Decide on colors yet?”

  “Not up to me. I’m out of the decision making process when it comes to walls and roofs, or anything else to do with living indoors. I’m just glad you’re not asking me to help with putting up wall paneling.”

  He chuckled. “Just like everything else in life. If you want it done in a hurry, it’ll turn out not so good. If you want it done right, it takes a while.”

  “So I’m learning,” she said. “Might be a dumb question, but do you know of any tennis courts around here?”

  “The university has a lot of them. Good team, too.”

  “I was thinking of municipal league.”

  “You’re a tennis player, too?”

  “I try. I need to do something else other than think about this estate.”

  Florinda came over, with Clara right next to her. “City courts at the park right down the street. Might be able to take a lesson. Meet a few people other than us.”

  “What’s wrong with you guys?” Gina asked.

  “You’re a city girl. It might be more fun to meet someone other than a bunch of farmers.”

  “I don’t know what farmers are supposed to be like, but you guys are fun.”

  Maybe she’d stumbled into a moment of diplomacy, but that seemed to make them happy.

  ***

  It was Friday evening and Gina wanted something more to do than sit at home making minestrone. She was in a new city, one that people came from around the world to visit. She’d seen very little of it so far, only a couple of trips to the hardware store, a quick drive through Waikiki in the dark of evening, and peculiar trips to grocery stores. In spite of finding a dead body on her doorstep at the beginning of the week, she had been enjoying working on the estate. Now that it was Friday evening, it was time to have some fun.

  “I wonder what people do in the tropics to ring in the New Year?” she asked herself while looking through clothes in her closet. “Same thing at home, I suppose. Have a drink, flirt with guys, give out my number to someone that’ll never call me. At least I won’t be sitting at home with Mom like I did last year.”

  No one was going to call her for a date. The only men she knew in town were the guys on her work crew, and they were either not interested or married. There was the police detective that had come around to interview her a couple of times, but he’d shown no interest in her personal life beyond that of snooping into her old duty record from when she’d been on the police force in Cleveland. That said, she wouldn’t mind seeing his thick arms and broad chest in something other than an Izod pullover and a sports jacket.

  “I need to check him out on social media, if he’s even on any,” she muttered while searching for an outfit that would make her fit in with the Honolulu crowd.

  Then there was Joey Scapone. He’d already called once that day, moaning over the fact the Gina was so far away, and when was she finally going to come to her senses and come home to him. She didn’t consider herself a feminist, but she also didn’t like his sense of ownership of her.

  “Joey, we went out only a few times, and some of those times could barely be considered dates.”

  “Why not?” he whined.

  “Dude, shopping at Walmart is not a date. Neither is a Tupperware party at your mom’s house.”

  “What, all of a sudden, you’re a snob?”

  “No, but having something to eat other than carrot sticks and dip would’ve been nice.” She hated to hurt the guy’s feelings, but she was done with him, and he needed to transfer his obsession to some other poor girl. “Look, get a real job and a place of your own. Then brush your teeth, shave your face, take a shower, and put on a clean shirt before you ask a nice girl out on a date.”

  “Where am I supposed to find these nice girls?” he demanded.

  “Try going to church.”

  “From what I’ve heard, you don’t go anymore. Does that mean you’re not a nice girl?”

  So, he’d found a way of hurting her feelings in return. She left him with two words of parting, hoping she wouldn’t hear from him again.

  Since it was New Year’s Eve, Gina decided to dress nicely to go out. She had no idea of what to expect of a Filipino bar in Honolulu, if it might be a tiki bar like the one she knew at home, or if it was a classier place. She suspected it might be on the lower end of things, if it served Tuyo beer, which was turning out to have a bad reputation, even with the Filipinos she’d asked about it.

  She felt a little over-dressed in a silk blouse and a skirt as she drove the old Datsun across town. She had to remind herself that the real reason she was going to Bunzo’s Bar in particular was to see if they served Tuyo beer, and if not, where she could find it. She also had to admit that simply investigating something was giving her a minor thrill, once again allowing use of her old hard-earned police training, even if it was just for an hour or two. If someone happened to flirt with her, that would be icing on the cake.

  “Can’t get stupid with this, Gina,” she told herself as she drove. She needed to peek at the map she had marked for where she needed to go. She was headed back to the same part of town she’d gone to the day before to check out Pinoy Boy’s Emporium, even the same street, only a few blocks away. “Not a cop, nor an investigator. I just want to get to the bottom of where that bottle cap came from. That’s it. Once I get my answer, I finish my drink and get out.”

  Waiting for a traffic light to change, she checked her face and teeth in the rearview mirror. She was already getting more suntanned than she’d ever been in her life, even at the end of long Cleveland summers. The humidity was playing tricks with her wavy hair, and if it had been shorter, she figured she could tease it into an afro.

  “Not trying to solve a possible murder, which is the direction Detective Kona is leaning with the dead man’ death. I just want to know who the guy was, and why he was sleeping on my front porch every day.” Giving the little truck some gas, she got going through the intersection. “The Tanizawa’s front porch. Somebody’s front porch.”

  She drove past Pinoy Boy’s. Instead of a couple of punks hanging around out front, there were two young ladies that were trying a little too hard to ply their wares. They were just far enough from the lights of the store that Gina couldn’t get a good look at them, but their profession was unmistakable.

  “It’s the same thing everywhere, I guess. A couple of streetwalkers waving to horny guys in cars are gonna be ignored by the police on New Year’s Eve.”

  In a few more blocks, she found Bunzo’s Bar. The only tiki thing about it were the palm trees painted on the dingy windows. At least the windows hadn’t been boarded over, meaning it was still a bar and not an XXX dance hall. Otherwise, it was a simple wood frame building in need of a coat of paint.

  If the sidewalk in front of Pinoy Boy’s was light in action, Bunzo’s was busy. Half a dozen young men of various races—apparently Honolulu’s version of Little Italy guidos—were hanging around chatting up young women. What Gina couldn’t tell was if they were on dates, or if the women were looking for dates. Whatever was going on, they were working hard to find some companionship.

  Gina parked in one of the last spaces available in the lot. This time, she backed in, and as always with the old Datsun, left the door unlocked. As she walked to the front door of the bar, she scanned the other cars looking for unmarked police cars. There weren’t any, but
she did notice more crappy cars than nice ones. That right there would’ve put off her sister Ana from going in.

  Maybe because she was a new competitor in the game, Gina turned heads as she went past the guys hanging around the front door. A couple of them made what sounded like wise-guy remarks, but one at least opened the door for her. She could also tell she was being watched by the women, as though she was fresh competition for them.

  1980s MTV generation music was being played a little too loudly on a sound system that needed new speakers. There was something that looked like a dance floor in one corner and was being ignored. Every chair at every table was filled by women, and men stood over them trying their best at projecting the machismo image. Almost all of them were dark-haired, just like she’d expect to find in a Little Italy bar back home, except this crowd was speaking a Filipino language, mixing in English from time to time.

  The only places to sit were at the bar. She took a stool at the far end near the narrow hallway that led to the back somewhere. With any luck, it would lead to the restrooms and wherever Bunzo kept his stock of booze. She was hoping that if she were sneaky enough, she’d be able to take a quick look at his stock to see if he had Tuyo.

  A middle-aged bartender with tidy hair and a comically large nose tossed a napkin on the counter in front of Gina. He was the only white guy in there.

  “White wine,” she told him.

  “House or the good stuff?”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Dollar a glass.”

  “It’s New Year’s Eve. I feel like splurging.”

  Gina knew there’d be no difference, that cheap ‘Box-of-Wine’ stuff would’ve been decanted into an old bottle with a classy label. She watched as he made a show of pouring it anyway.

  “Tab?” he asked when he set it in front of her.

  “Why not?”

  He made a note on a card and stuck that on his side of the bar where she couldn’t see. “Haven’t seen you in here before.”

  “First time.”

  “Meeting someone?”

  “I hope not. Not tonight, anyway.”

  He leaned across the bar. “Don’t hold your breath waiting for something better to come along. This is about as good as it gets in here.”