Unknown Victim

by Kay Hadashi

  Chuck came down to her after ignoring her for a few minutes. Unlike the first time she was there, he didn’t toss down a cocktail napkin.

  “You might want to go,” he said quietly.

  Gina was careful not to make eye contact. “Why?”

  “Could be trouble if you’re seen in here.”

  “Nothing for you to worry about. It’s my night off and I just want a real drink for a change.”

  He tossed down a paper coaster. “Who’re you working for? Because I don’t want any trouble.”

  As far as Gina could tell, it seemed like he didn’t recognize her from several nights before. “There won’t be trouble. Double whisky, on the rocks.”

  He put the poured drink on her coaster. “Ten, cash.”

  She gave him a twenty. “Keep it.”

  He left it sit on the bar next to her glass. “How’d you find your way in here? Plenty of other bars for you to go to.”

  “Looking for a new family,” she said, taking a sip of her whisky.

  “Who says you’ll find one here?”

  “I heard something about a guy named Danny boy who runs his operation out of this place. Is that you?”

  “Not me.”

  “Is he here tonight or are you wasting my time?” she asked.

  “Pretty sure he’s not running a stable these days.”

  Gina took another sip. “Strange. I didn’t know they retired.”

  “From what I’ve heard, he got himself retired.”

  Gina played with her drink glass, swirling the cubes in circles to hear them clink. “Bad timing for me, I guess.”

  “Even worse for him.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “Rumor has it that one of his girls stuck him.”

  “Probably pushed her around one time too many. When did that happen?”

  He finally took Gina’s twenty-dollar bill. “Week or so ago. He was a chump, anyway. All his girls had left him months ago. I heard he got one of them knocked up. My money is on her for sticking him.”

  “Probably so. Too bad. I’m looking for a daddy and this place seems okay.”

  “It’s a little slow tonight. Why don’t you come back tomorrow night?”

  She finally looked at him, hoping he took it as a cue that she was interested. “Maybe I will. Get much rough stuff in here?”

  “Not with the girls. I make sure of it.”

  “How?”

  He pulled a billy club from a hiding spot behind the bar and slapped his hand with it a few times. “I call it my persuader.”

  “Good name for it.”

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Misty.” When she saw Candy leave the bar with a customer, Gina finished her drink in one last gulp. She didn’t like being in there alone, and since no more of the conversation could be transmitted to Detective Kona in his car, or anyone else that might’ve been listening right then, she had no reason to be there. “Thanks.”

  To play it cool, she figured she had better not rush away. Instead, she watched a few of the bar patrons flirt with each other. That only reaffirmed her belief that it was a lot more fun to do the flirting than it was to watch someone else do it.

  She’d gulped her drink a little too fast, and when she slid down off the stool, she was a little dizzy. It took a moment to get her sea legs right, but Chuck never noticed. When one of the women in the bar, someone Gina guessed was working in his stable, went to the restroom, he took off after her down the narrow hall. By then, Gina’s head was back from swirling. When she heard loud voices come from the back of the bar, she peeked down the hallway to see what was going on.

  Chuck had the girl pinned up against the wall outside the ladies’ room, one hand on her neck, her arm locked behind her back. Tears were coming down her face, even while she was spitting profanities at him.

  “Start hustlin’ before you get busted up, understand?” Chuck told the girl.

  “I hustle as best I can! Not my fault this dump is full of losers.”

  Someone came up to Gina’s side. It was Candy, and she had an angry look on her face that Gina knew better than to cross.

  “What’s happening with them?” Candy asked.

  “Motivational pep talk.”

  Just then, Chuck let the girl have it in the chops with the back of his hand.

  “Hey! You can’t do that!” Candy shouted as she stormed down the hall. Gina didn’t know what to do. Her moment of pretending to be a hooker was done, and whatever was happening in the hall right then was someone else’s fight. She also wasn’t going to let a girl get beat up by her pimp. She went down the hall right after Candy, but let the pro do the talking.

  That only led to Chuck being manhandled by two hookers, with Gina standing back slightly. When the first girl was knocked to the floor, Candy pulled a knife and waved it back and forth in front of his face. Gina took a step back. Knocking each other around was one thing; knifeplay took things to a whole new level of hospital care.

  While Candy and Chuck swapped curses and insults, the hooker on the floor cried. Gina couldn’t see any blood on her, and her way was blocked by the feud even if she tried to help.

  “Hey, why don’t you guys calm down?” Gina said. “No reason to bleed over a slow night of work.”

  “Get outta here, Misty. This isn’t your fight,” shouted Candy.

  “How do you know Misty?” Chuck asked with derision. “Are you working for someone else behind my back?”

  “You don’t know what’s going on right in front of you,” Candy said.

  “Put the knife away, Candy,” Gina said. By then, the girl that had been knocked to the floor had fled to the bathroom. “He’s not worth it.”

  “I’ll decide that.”

  “Misty, or whatever your name is, you better get lost,” Chuck said. “And don’t bother coming back tomorrow. You’ll be as welcome here as…”

  “As what? Clap in a whorehouse?” Gina said. When she saw Candy start to back off from Chuck, she figured there was nothing else she could do, and abandoned their little maniacal soap opera.

  ***

  Gina almost forgot the umbrella she’d left outside the door. She did her best not to hurry as she went down the sidewalk to where she’d last seen Detective Kona park. When she got there, he was nowhere around, nor was his SUV. She walked around the block, watching for him in alleys or driveways. When she heard a siren come down the street in the direction of Bunzo’s, it wasn’t Kona’s SUV, but his sedan with a flashing blue light on the top. He was driving.

  “What the heck? How’d he swap cars so fast? Did he even listen to what I got from Chuck?”

  Just as he skidded to a stop on the wet street in front of Bunzo’s, a squad car arrived. Kona and the two officers exchanged a few words and ducked into the front door of the bar, their weapons drawn.

  Gina backed into the shadow of a nearby doorway to watch the bar. Even if she was stuck outside, she wanted dearly to be inside to witness what went down in Honolulu bars when there was a bust. She still wasn’t sure if it was a raid, or if police had been called to manage the fight in the back hallway. If it had come to a bartender with a billy club facing off against a pissed off hooker with a knife, her money was on Candy.

  Ten minutes later, Kona came out with Candy in handcuffs, put her in the backseat of his sedan, and drove off. That meant either Candy had got into Chuck and he was dead on the floor waiting for a trip to the morgue, or the two uniformed officers were giving him a lecture. So far, paramedics hadn’t shown up. With nothing else better to do, she watched until the officers came out, got in their squad car, and left.

  “Just another evening at Bunzo’s,” she said while walking away. “Now I just need to find a taxi.”

  ***

  The taxi driver refused to take Gina across the little bridge onto the estate, and insisted on being paid in cash. Doing her best with two inch wedges on the gravel driveway, and a belt of whisky in her stomach, she went back to h
er house. She stopped when she saw Detective Kona’s sedan parked at the side in its usual place. She had to go around back to find him at the picnic table. The rain had stopped falling by then, leaving the air fresh and crisp.

  “What happened at the bar?” Gina asked.

  “That’s what I’m still trying to figure out.”

  “Why did you arrest Candy? It was Chuck that was causing the trouble, pushing his girls around.”

  “Didn’t arrest her.”

  “I saw you take her out in cuffs. That sure looked like an arrest.”

  “I just needed to get her out of there before Chuck found the wire on her,” he said. “Where’d you go?”

  “Once the face-off between a dirty pimp and his girls started to break up, I came looking for you, but you were long gone.”

  “Probably best, in the long run.”

  “Where is she now?” Gina asked.

  “I dropped her off downtown. The rest of the night is hers.”

  “What about Chuck?”

  “He didn’t want to file a complaint, and nobody got hurt.”

  “Nobody got hurt? He gave one of them a smack across her face hard enough to knock her to the floor! That’s not getting hurt?”

  “She never came forward to file a complaint. By the time I got there, it was only Candy flashing a knife in the general direction of Chuck.”

  “What about the sting? Did you get anything from that?” she asked.

  “You did good on that, Santoro. He admitted that he knew the approximate date and manner of death, and tried to shift the blame onto someone else, a common trick made by perps. As hard as they try to cover and dream up an alibi, they always slip up on pointing a finger at someone else. The more people they point at, the more they’re guilty. That’s how I see it, anyway.”

  “What you got was good? It was solid?”

  “Not admissible, but good enough to get him into an interrogation room tomorrow.”

  “Why not tonight?”

  “He needs to think about what happened in the bar this evening. I planted a few ideas in his mind, something for him to think about all night.”

  “Crafty,” she muttered. “What if he tries to run?”

  “To where? We’re on an island.”

  “Yeah, I forgot. Either way, I’d love to be in that room tomorrow.”

  “Forget it, Santoro. Your part of this deal is done. Stakeout complete, got it?”

  “Got it. You think he had something to do with Danny’s death?”

  “I’ll know tomorrow. Still don’t want to divulge your informant?”

  “Sorry.” Gina smiled. “What I want to know is how you got your sedan so quickly after you dropped me at the bar in an SUV?”

  “Trick of the trade. You’ll figure it out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  In the morning, Gina wanted to work off some anxiety left over from her little sting operation the night before, so she joined the team that was digging out the old pond. They worked in half hour stretches, trading shovels back and forth for bottles of water. She was just wiping sweat and dirt from her face when she saw Detective Kona’s sedan drive onto the estate. He didn’t wait for her to come to him, walking directly to her instead.

  “We need to talk,” he said, leading her off to the side to talk privately.

  “I’m not giving up my informant, if that’s why you’re here.”

  “I’m not here about that, but I’d still like to know, even more since last night.”

  “Why since last night?”

  “My investigation was turned upside down.”

  Gina scratched her head. “Detective, you’re usually more to the point than this. What happened?”

  “Your new boss, Chuck the bartender, died last night.”

  “What?”

  He nodded. “His body was found in the bar this morning by the dayshift bartender that opened the place.”

  “Hughes was the day shift bartender, and he was found floating in the marina,” she said, trying to figure out what was happening at the bar.

  “They’ve hired a new bartender to open in the morning. Harry, the owner of the place wasn’t there yet when the new guy found Chuck.”

  Gina gulped, wondering if she knew what happened. The scene in the hallway at the bar from the night before was still fresh in her mind. “Was he stabbed?”

  “Why do you ask that?” he asked.

  Gina didn’t answer, only kicking away a stone.

  “Miss Santoro, if you have evidence to share, do it now. Otherwise, if I find out later you withheld evidence from a police officer during an official investigation, you could face jail time and fines.”

  “Okay, look. That Candy you sent in with me last night is a real piece of work. Spending a day chilling out at the spa wouldn’t be enough to get her over whatever it is that’s got her tied up in knots.”

  Kona chuckled. “Probably not. What happened in the bar last night?”

  “You only heard what was said in the back hallway through Candy’s wire and my ear bud. There was a lot more to that tussle than that, though.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as, when Candy saw Chuck muscling one of his girls, she just sorta flipped out. At first, she tried getting him off the girl, and when he pushed back, she drew a knife on him. She was quick, too, with this scary mean look on her face that was all business. That part you already know, but it was the look on her face that made me back off, not what Chuck was threatening.”

  “Did she threaten or actually try to injure him?”

  “Mostly she flashed it back and forth in front of his face.”

  “When I got there, she was just holding it in her hand. Did you see her making slashing or stabbing motions?” he asked, once again taking notes on his legal pad.

  “More slashing. That’s probably how he got the scar on his face, when she took a swing at him one other time.”

  “What you saw in her hand was definitely a knife and not an ice pick?”

  “Switchblade, with a blade about five inches long.” Gina gave it some thought. “I get now why you’re asking about that. You’re wondering if she might’ve been the one who killed Danny?”

  “That’s one idea, yes. But by virtue of her being a slasher rather than a stabber, and having a knife rather than an ice pick for personal protection, it lets her off the hook for his murder, at least to a certain extent. That’s why I hustled her out the door last night in cuffs. I doubt she had anything to do with Danny’s murder.”

  “Back to my original question, was Chuck knifed?” Gina asked.

  Kona shook his head. “Apparently, while cleaning the bar after closing, he slipped on the floor, fell backward, and hit this head on the edge of the bar counter.”

  “Front or back of his head?”

  “I’m glad you asked that, Miss Santoro.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s the second piece of evidence that, to a small extent, lets you off the hook for taking a swing at him,” Kona said.

  She crossed her arms. “I have an alibi for the time of his death. I was at home.”

  “Alone?”

  “Unfortunately. But I had to take a taxi home, because I was abandoned in Kapalama by the cop leading the stakeout at the bar. I do have a receipt for the taxi fare, though.”

  “You could’ve gone back later in your own vehicle.”

  She shrugged. “There should be plenty of video surveillance at businesses, both along East-West Road and near the bar in Kapalama. Even Pinoy Boy’s market has video of the sidewalk out front. I’d have to drive right past there to get to Bunzo’s, right? Check for CC video in the area, if you don’t believe me.”

  “I plan to, once I have the time.”

  “No signs of foul play in the bar?” she asked.

  “Before we get to that, I have a few more questions for you.”

  “Okay.” When Gina swallowed, her throat was dry. “Is this a formal interview or are we just chatting?�
�

  “I hate talking to cops.” Kona got out his yellow pad, ready to take notes. “As far as you know, is Candy here on the estate at this time?”

  “No.”

  “Did she shelter here during the night?”

  “As far as I know, no. Not in the house, anyway.”

  “Do you know her current whereabouts?”

  Gina shrugged. “Not at all. The last time I saw her, you were loading her in the back of your sedan.”

  “She hasn’t called or contacted you in any way whatsoever?”

  “Nope. We never exchanged numbers. Why?”

  “It’s still my turn to ask questions. Did the two of you communicate in any way while in the bar last night?”

  “Only after she’d broken up the fight between Chuck and the girl he was muscling.”

  “What did she say to you at the time?” Kona asked.

  “Something about me leaving, that I had no reason to be there, it wasn’t my fight. It was as if she almost outted me, or outted the stakeout.”

  “Did you hear her make any threats toward Chuck?”

  “Nothing specific, but with the way she was waving that knife around, and the look on her face, she wanted to give him another scar.”

  “What exactly were they doing while she held the knife?” he asked.

  “I told you a lot of this just a minute ago.”

  “Tell me again.”

  Gina gave it some thought. “They were about three or four feet apart, close enough for her to swipe him. Mostly, they threw insults and curses back and forth, along with a lot of posturing, but with a knife.”

  “No punches were thrown, no pushing or shoving?”

  “Not that I saw, not after the knife came out.”

  “Candy never shoved him or hit him in the head?”

  “Like I said, not that I saw. What’s this all about, anyway?”

  “Chuck the bartender, also known as Charles Andover, died from blunt force trauma to the back of his head, just above the point where his neck meets his head. If it wasn’t enough that he had a brain injury, his neck was broken, also.”

  “Just from slipping on a wet floor and hitting his head on the edge of the counter? I’m no expert on injuries, but it seems to me it would take more than a slip to get that much of an injury.”