Dark Red And Deadly

by Frederick Zackel

  * * *

  Rafferty left his parked rental outside the Ilima Chapel and walked up to the front door. A sign said "Ilima Chapel Virginia Hong, Prop." Rafferty entered.

  Inside Rafferty met with Ginny Hong.

  Rafferty said, "How's Eddie?"

  Ginny fought hard not to cry. Rafferty embraced her. Pulling herself together, she pushed away and then went toward her private office. After a moment, Rafferty followed.

  Ginny went to her desk. "Sheriff Hartman didn't arrest you."

  "He thought about it," Rafferty said.

  "He's a good man, Terry. You know, his wife died earlier this year. A drunk driver. They were the happiest married couple I ever met. Eighteen years together and they still walked hand-in-hand on the beach. The Sheriff was on duty that night. He heard about the accident and drove over there. My Eddie was the one who gave him his wife's wallet."

  Ginny opened her desk and brought out a frosted bottle of cognac and two snifters and then poured great dollops in each. "Fortifier for my customers." After tasting hers she said, "Let's get outa here."

  * * *

  That twilight Rafferty and Ginny walked together on a country road, passing the bottle back and forth to fill their snifters.

  Ginny said, "Janis Buchanan was a wild one. She surprised everybody marrying the Sheriff."

  "And that nurse in the ambulance? That's her sister?"

  Ginny nodded. "Janis might've been wild, but Nora was always much wilder. She's been through a lot of men."

  "Anybody in particular?"

  "This guy named Tomo. Part Tahitian, part Hawaiian. Big guy. "

  "Ginny, tell me about Lester and Mad Dog," Rafferty said.

  "Lester Rahler is pupule, a crazy man. Insane. His father Mad Dog is both a rock and a hard place. Those two aren't fit to breathe the same air as my Eddie."

  Rafferty tried to pass her the bottle, but Ginny refused it. Rafferty put his arm around her shoulder, and they walked together in silence.

  * * *

  At the same time, wearing her nurse's uniform, Nora was leaving her apartment for her job at the hospital, and Henry held the door for her.

  Nora said, "I won't let him die."

  Henry watched her walk down the staircase.

  * * *

  Inside the Sheriff’s private office Paula Grayson was cradling her sleeping baby and watching her other daughter playing with a cap pistol on the carpet. Sheriff Hartman listened intently.

  "I told him he shouldn't be doing it," Paula said. "He had kids and a wife."

  Hartman said, "How was his crop this year?"

  "His best," Paula said. "He harvested about fifteen days ago."

  "Who was his buyer?"

  "I never knew the details."

  "How much did he get for it?"

  "Audrey told me between seven and eight hundred thousand dollars."

  "What happened to the money?"

  "In the bank, I suppose," Paula said.

  Hartman said, "If it isn't there, where would he hide it?"

  Paula Grayson had no idea.

  On a hillside many miles away Mad Dog and Lester drank by the light of an opened van, passing back and forth a frosted bottle of cognac.

  Lester said, "But we looked everywhere."

  Mad Dog said, "We didn't look good enough, is all."

  He passed the frosted bottle. His son drank deeply, was overcome by the powerful cognac, and started choking. Mad Dog took back the bottle.

  Lester said, "Whoa! Goddam!"

  Mad Dog explained, "Fifty year old cognac."

  "Fuck, that dude was rich!"

  Mad Dog raised a toast. "Here's to a rich dude with a lot of class who got whacked by my kid."

  Mad Dog drank deep, then broke off gasping. He said with great respect, "This is good shit!" He drank more. "That miserable old man drinking bourbon and Gatorade, Jesus, what piss that was!"

  Lester agreed. "Somebody oughta put Henry outa his misery."

  They passed the bottle back and forth.

  Lester asked, "D'you think that old man's gonna snitch on us?"

  Mad Dog said, "No, Lester."

  "You want me to waste him?"

  "Jesus Christ, no!"

  "Why not? Fuck him. Henry never did you any good."

  "His son did," Mad Dog said belligerently.

  "Henry knows too much about us already. Maybe he'll trade where we are for dropping some of those charges against him."

  Mad Dog said, "Doncha ever get tired thinking about who you're gonna kill next? I mean, Jesus Christ, Lester, you can't look at the whole world like it's gonna betray you."

  "The whole world's not gonna betray me," Lester said. "See, the whole world don't know me. But those fuckers who know me could send me behind those walls, and I won't go there again. They'll haveta blow me away before they'll ever take me alive again."

  "Lester -- Son -- "

  "A man has to make a stand sometime."

  "Give it up, boy!"

  "Daddy, I can't."

  Mad Dog said, "I still remember that man in Houston."

  "Hey, he started it. He said fuck you and I said fuck you ... "

  "And then you shot him."

  "A man shouldn't go around calling people out unless he's prepared to back himself up."

  "You don't kill a guy just because he says fuck you."

  Lester tried explaining again. "You can say fuck you a million times in this life, daddy, but until you say fuck you and pull the trigger on the son of a bitch at least once in your life, they'll always win and whip you down. Like a dog gets whipped down."

  Mad Dog said, "No."

  "I'm telling you the old man'll snitch on us."

  "He won't. Don't lay a finger on him."

  "Are you telling me not to?"

  Mad Dog said, "Don't touch him."

  Lester stopped talking, took his truck keys, and went to his truck.

  Mad Dog called after him, "Lester!"

  Lester drove off into the night.

  Mad Dog said, "Damn you, son." He drank more.

  * * *

  Prim in her crisp nurse uniform, Nora Buchanan walked through the white corridors of County General Hospital, carrying an airline flight bag until she reached a door marked "BLOOD BANK."

  Nora reached into the opened refrigerator at the blood bank, removed several units of plasma and whole blood, and placed them in the flight bag.

  Minutes later Nora removed bandages, gauze, adhesive tape, throwaway hypos from several shelves in the supply room, and she placed them inside the airline flight bag.

  Five minutes after that Nora removed antibiotics and other drugs from the emergency room cabinet, and then she placed them inside the flight bag.

  Nora walked through white corridors, carrying her airline flight bag with its precious cargo. As she rounded a corner, Lester Rahler grabbed her and slammed her into the wall. His left forearm was wedged under her throat and pressed against her windpipe. His right hand ripped at her uniform, caught the cup of her bra and exposed her breast. He stuck the tip of his knife to her breast.

  Lester hissed, "Snitch on me or my daddy ... "

  He jabbed her breast with his knife, enough to break the skin and make her jump in terror.

  Cheryl Park, the Korean nurse from Suszie's Sugar Shack, stood at the end of the hallway. She saw Lester sticking his knife at Nora.

  She screamed, "Security! Security! Security!"

  She pulled down the fire alarm.

  The alarm echoed through the hospital.

  A food cart piled with dirty dishes was nearby. Cheryl ran to it, started throwing coffee cups and plates at Lester and Nora. The dishware crashed around their feet.

  The security guard came skidding up behind Cheryl. With his gun out, he started after Lester. Lester took off running. The security guard chased after him.

  Nora ran terrified to Cheryl. Cheryl hugged her tightly. Nora loosened her top and looked at her breast where blood ran.

&n
bsp; * * *

  Though the apartment was hers, Henry Oteas was still surprised seeing Nora come in the door. Nora began unpacking the medical supplies from the airline flight bag.

  "I was sent home," Nora said. "That lunatic Lester attacked me."

  "Why?"

  "He said he'd kill me if I went to the police."

  Henry sagged. "Now what do we do?"

  Nora took a handgun from the airline bag. "This gun freak in Radiology loaned me this. Showed me how to use it." She hid the gun under a sofa pillow. "Next time Lester comes here, I'll kill him." She considered all. "Somebody has to."

  "No!"

  Nora agreed. "Okay. Let's turn them in to the Sheriff."

  "You don't let nothing happen to my son."

  "Henry, is there any other way we can keep them away from us?"

  * * *

  At the same hour a precinct station sat brightly lit up high in the backcountry. Many law enforcement vehicles were parked nearby. Helicopters were loudly warming up in the pasture behind the building.

  Inside the squad room Sheriff Hartman stood before Rafferty, Special Agent Jack Draper, Alice Taylor and two dozen husky men. Some men wore regulation deputy uniforms, while others had flak jackets and fatigues. All wore bullet proof vests. Cigarette smoke was clumping in the air. Coffee steam was coming up from plastic cups.

  Hartman addressed all. "This Strike Force is a Joint Eradication Program. Aside from being a lousy choice of words, well, this is a team effort. And I want to thank you all for helping out. You boys on the county SWAT Team raise your hands. No, not your rifles, just your hands. Everybody say hello to the Animal Control Officer who is here in case there are any guard dogs waiting for us." He read from his notes. "We also have observers here today from the state Attorney General's Office, the state Department of Justice, the state Franchise Tax Board, the state Bureau of Narcotics, and some deputies visiting from other islands." He looked back at his notes. "The Internal Revenue is here, as is US Customs and Tobacco, Alcohol and Firearms, and the Drug Enforcement Agency has sent us Special Agent Jack Draper who brought some fellow agents, some guard dogs and lots of weapons." He looked at Draper. "Say hello, Jack."

  Jack Draper was staring with ill-concealed hatred at Rafferty and was caught off-guard by Sheriff Hartman’s comments.

  Hartman smiled at Rafferty. "We've another guest, too. Some of you may recognize him. Rafferty helped save Deputy Ka’aina's life last night. He even donated blood. His name is Rafferty, he’s from Washington, D.C., and he’s good friends with Senator Jacob Kincaid, the US Senator from Ohio, who the newspapers suggest might be America’s next drug czar. I've invited Rafferty along today to show the Senator how well we all can get along. Be nice to him today."

  Draper was irritated. "Get on with it, Sheriff!"

  Hartman said, "Be nice to one another, too." In a loud voice he added, "We're hitting only one target today. How many of you were in Desert Storm?"

  Half the men present raised their arms, as did Rafferty, which caused the men around him to give him more grudging respect. Although himself taken aback, Sheriff Hartman plunged on.

  Hartman said, "Just like that. Fast and low with guns up, and remember, be careful and be professional. Watch yourselves and your buddies. These growers are considered heavily armed and dangerous."

  * * *

  As day broke, the helicopters lifted off, following the path of the automobiles and trucks who had left an hour earlier.

  The helicopters flew towards the mountains. They flew over pineapple plantations, sugar cane fields, the brush-covered ridges, green canyons, steep mountainsides and long waterfalls.

  Alice Taylor was piloting and leering at Rafferty, who she had insisted sit beside her. "When we get back, how about watching the sunset with me? Then we can go over to my place for a few drinks."

  Rafferty said, "I would love to."

  The helicopters flew fast and low over the mountainsides.

  * * *

  Lester and Mad Dog were rolling up sleeping bags to stow inside their trucks which were parked inside a sugar cane field. Mad Dog stopped when he heard a coming thunder. He shaded his eyes and peered into the rising sun.

  Then Mad Dog yelled to Lester, "Helicopters!"

  The helicopters came in over the trees, low and fast.

  Lester and Mad Dog ran like ten thousand demons chased them.

  Lester cried out, "My truck!"

  Mad Dog called back, "Fuck it!"

  Mad Dog managed to get his truck going and Lester just made it to his father's truck, and together they drove without headlights through the sugar cane. But the helicopters had another target.

  * * *

  In the helicopter Alice Taylor was becoming more romantic. "We can have a midnight swim off Iliwei Beach. There's a full moon tonight and a low tide and tradewinds through the palm trees. We wouldn't need swimsuits. The water's warm. And in the morning we can go catch the sunrise over at Mango Beach."

  "Can we do anything sooner?"

  * * *

  Once all the choppers had landed on the grassy ridge that was their target, Sheriff Hartman and his crew met and all headed off along a trail. Occasionally a deputy used a machete to chop at the underbrush. When the trail widened into the garden, the team fanned out.

  Rafferty stopped cold when something invisible touched his throat. He jerked back, spooked. The Sheriff found the fishing line stretched across the trail.

  "Fishing line. It spooks the deer. The deer love grass.

  Rafferty asked, "Bambi gets stoned?"

  Alice told him, "One state senator in Honolulu is worried about the deer eating all this high-potency weed. He's afraid we'll have wild-eyed drug crazed deer roaming the hills."

  Hartman shrugged. "Scares the hell outa me."

  They joined Jack Draper and the other law enforcement people who were busting the Rahler's marijuana garden inside the sugar cane field. The plants were thick shrubs, small bushes, and some were small trees twice as tall as a man. The branches were thick and filled with purplish buds, while the buds were swollen with resin and wrapped in plastic baggies.

  Hartman looked it over. "Very commercial."

  Draper fingered a bud. "This stuff's ready now."

  Draper and Sheriff Hartman moved off together, leaving Rafferty and Alice to wander through the garden. Behind them, the deputies strapped on battery packs, then hooked up weed-eaters and started slicing and sawing down the marijuana stalks. Other deputies joined in with machetes and brush cutters.

  Alice described it all for Rafferty. "Hawaiian homegrown. The best grass in the world. Grass so good, you don't tell your old lady you got it." She touched a bud. "Just this bud can cost you a hundred bucks."

  Rafferty said, "Why so much?"

  "For one thing, it's almost all pure smoke. It has no seeds, so you get twice as much per ounce right off the top. Plus it has five times more THC than regular weed."

  "THC? That's the active ingredient in marijuana, isn’t it?"

  "Plus you don't let it have sex."

  Rafferty grinned. "No sex? Alice, that's cruel and unusual."

  Alice pulled a bud off a nearby plant. Her attitude was very romantic as she spoke with Rafferty. They locked eyes.

  "What you want are the virgins," she told him. "The young and frustrated, burning with-desire, horny-as-hell virgins. If the females get pollinated, they use their THC to produce seeds. If there's no pollination, she gets frustrated and frantic and taller and thicker, because she's looking for a male. She starts sweating resin in the buds."

  The bud in her hand was oozing resin.

  "Resin dripping out like maple syrup. The juice of a frustrated virgin. You just let them get hornier and hornier, and the hornier they get, the stronger the dope gets."

  Alice pulled off a plastic baggie from a nearby plant.

  "That's why these plants have plastic bags over their buds. Just in case there's some wild male plants in their neighborhood." She gave a nas
ty little smile. "Marijuana condoms."

  Rafferty and Alice flirted with their eyes, as they rejoined Sheriff Hartman and Special Agent Draper who were now standing beside Lester Rahler's abandoned truck.

  Sheriff Hartman held a twelve-gauge shotgun and was talking to one of his deputies. "Go with this to Honolulu. The state forensics lab. After the ballistics boys do their tests, call me immediately." He told Alice, "Alice, you're flying him." He then told Rafferty, "This truck's registered to Lester Rahler."

  * * *

  An hour later Sheriff Hartman and Rafferty watched the Rahlers’ marijuana go up in smoke at the city incinerator.

  Hartman said, "Marijuana's the most dangerous thing ever to hit this island. Not counting the Quints, we've had thirteen dead this year. Not much maybe compared to the cocaine drug lords of Columbia, but our violent crime rate is up one-hundred-fifty percent. These growers are professional. They harvest in hundred pound lots and gross more than a hundred grand a year. Capitalists with guns under their aloha shirts and expensive Honolulu lawyers just a phone call away."

  Rafferty said, "Capitalists who kill."

  "That’s a good headline for you," the Sheriff said.

  * * *

  Sheriff Hartman and Rafferty drove into town, then left the Sheriff's parked car. They walked towards some law offices. Hartman said, "When you investigate someone in Washington, who's the first person you interview?"

  Rafferty said, "His lawyer."

  "Ed Finney was Jeremiah Quint's lawyer."

  Inside the law offices Sheriff Hartman and Rafferty sat opposite Ed Finney, Attorney-at-Law.

  "How can I help you, Sheriff?" Finney asked.

  Hartman said, "I'm investigating the deaths of Jeremiah Quint and his family. You were his lawyer. When was the last time you saw him alive?"

  "Two days ago," Finney said. "He was in my office most of the morning."

  Rafferty said, "This was the day before he died?"

  "Yes, Mister Rafferty," Finney said.

  Rafferty told the Sheriff, "That was the day I got here." He then told Finney, "Are you sure he was here all day?"

  Finney was amused. "I'm positive about that. He raised a big enough stink. In more ways than one."

  Hartman said, "What was he seeing you about?"