by Kirk Russell
‘Why?’
‘Well, let’s just say many things were possible with Jim.’
Casey picked up his beer and smiled an odd strained smile. It changed the room.
‘There was a judge in San Francisco who lived in the penthouse of an apartment building on Russian Hill. His wife wouldn’t let him smoke on the penthouse decks because she didn’t like the dope smell drifting inside, so he smoked on the roof deck up with the equipment. He fell off one night. Did Jim know about it? It seemed like he did. Did he have a part in it? How could he but he seemed to know something had happened to the judge other than an accident.’
‘Judge Brighton.’
‘Is that one of your cold cases? They replaced that judge with an even more liberal judge, so it was all a goddamned waste of time if it was about politics, and God knows he had opinions and he was unusual in what he was willing to do. Jim wasn’t a killer but killing didn’t weigh on him. We’d take it to the Cong and fry the villagers along with them. None of that ever bothered him as far as I knew. It was just part of the war, yet he was a man with a strict personal code.’
‘How was his career as an airline pilot?’
‘Whenever they got a new model jet they put him in the seat. Retired him with honors, same as the Navy, but let me go get something and show you.’
He limped out of the room, his leg stiff from sitting, Raveneau guessed. He looked at photos on a wall, in one, Krueger, Casey, and Frank in uniform, Frank somehow standing out in the photo. Then one of Frank and his son here, Frank looking like his health was gone. When Casey returned Raveneau asked, ‘What other friends of Alan Krueger are still in the islands?’
‘There’s an officer up at Bradshaw Air Base named Shay.’
Casey slowly sat down. He slid the bowl with the poke aside and set a small painted metal box with a dragon painted on the lid on the table between them. Then, before sitting he pulled his pant leg up and showed Raveneau a long scar running from his knee.
‘This was from flak. It’s why I limp and don’t play polo any more.’ He smiled. ‘That last is a joke. You don’t need to make a note about looking up polo teams.’ He studied Raveneau. ‘You just missed Nam, right? But not by much.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Well, Nam was a fucked-up situation if there ever was one, but at least we had a draft so we did it as a country as opposed to the bullshit now. Flying combat missions adrenalized Jim as much as anybody else, but at the same time he enjoyed it. If they hadn’t run out of war he probably would have stayed in the military. He was here in Hawaii recovering from wounds when they canceled the war. He celebrated with everyone else but I believe part of him was disappointed. Open the box.’
When Raveneau did he was looking at one, then a second Navy Cross There were stripes that looked like they’d been removed from a uniform.
‘Did you save the uniform?’
‘No, I had him dressed in it before he was cremated. But that’s not to say it was my idea. He got the uniform out, had it cleaned, and then left it hanging with the plastic on it in his closet. I was up there one night for a drink. Just about every night I’d walk up or he’d walk down. It was a regular thing if neither of us had guests. It was always best when it was just the two of us. Near the end it was mostly me going up there. We had a couple of drinks one night and he showed me the uniform hanging in the closet.
‘“Dress me in that,” he said, and then walked me out to where we spread his ashes. When we were standing there he said, “It’ll be before the end of the year.” It was two months later in October.
‘All the way down he never once complained, or not once that I heard. He died at a place in Waimea, not far from here. He took death as he took life, as a thing to do. He lost a kidney, his spleen, and some his intestines the second time he was hit in Nam. When he started to have trouble, it was the remaining kidney.
‘This photo here is us after a bombing run to Da Nang. The woman in the chair there next to Jim had known him for about thirty minutes.’
Jim Frank rested his arm on the back of the woman’s chair. The chairs were rattan. His smile lit his face and Raveneau saw both of his sons in him.
‘What about the other marriage?’
‘Allyson was a great woman. She was the one who understood him and didn’t have to change him. He made a big mistake letting her go.’
‘Did they see each other after she moved to San Francisco?’
‘They did and for several years after the boy was born he’d fly in and stay with her. Here, I’ve got a photo.’
He led Raveneau to a drawer behind a teak bar in the corner of the lanai.
‘The rain blows in here and I can’t hang everything I want.’
He slid the drawer open and lifted out a framed photo of Frank and Allyson and Ryan. Frank was in his United Airlines uniform. Ryan Candel looked like he was somewhere between eighteen months and two years. Allyson was beaming.
‘That’s her. That was her smile.’ Casey held the photo out for him to take. ‘Would this photo help his son?’
‘I think it would.’
‘Take it with you.’
‘Can I borrow some of these others?’
‘Yes.’
Tom Casey walked out with him. He stood alongside Raveneau’s car.
‘You didn’t quite get what you needed, did you? But then you jumped around with your questions.’
‘I’m scratching around the edges and I generally know when I’m going to get information that will help the case. Sometimes it’s good to get the stories first. Do you have any problem with me calling you?’
‘None as long as you’re working AK’s murder.’
‘How often do you leave the island?’
‘Not often. Sometimes I tell people I never leave here. That’s about the war.’ He tapped his palm on the roof of Raveneau’s car.
‘Jim would have been the first to lift a door off if he wanted to get into a house. He broke a window here once just to get to the whiskey, so I guess it fits you break into his house. You can call me anytime with questions about AK, and if you find his killer I’ll fly to San Francisco and buy you the best dinner in town.’
‘I’ll hold you to that.’
‘I hope you do.’
THIRTY-FIVE
‘ How’s Hawaii?’ la Rosa asked. ‘Where are you?’
Raveneau turned off the highway and on to what was called the Saddle Road. The road crossed the interior of the island connecting the north and south. Along the road was Bradshaw Army Air Field where Raveneau had phoned half an hour before.
‘I’m on my way to a military base and I need you to do something for me. After I stop at this air field I’m headed to the airport in Kona, and then on to Bali. I need your help with the lieutenant and the captain. I need to get cleared for Bali for a week.’
‘You mean Bali in the South Pacific?’
‘Yeah, it turns out Jim Frank rotated through islands and beach areas, possibly as part of a cover. After Bali I’ll need a week in a place in Thailand called Phuket. The guy I just interviewed says it is beautiful beach country. I guess that’s what the captain liked, beautiful women and beaches. I should have brought more than one swimsuit. You know, you rinse the salt off the suit and you can let one dry while-’
‘Guess what, you’re way out of touch. You don’t know your beaches. No one goes to Phuket any more.’
Raveneau smiled as she realized he was teasing her. It didn’t surprise him she knew her beaches.
Up ahead on his left the volcano Mauna Loa towered. In the midday Mauna Loa and the other volcano on the south end were gathering clouds. When he picked up the rental they warned him not to drive the Saddle Road. If he broke down there he’d be on the hook for the towing charges, but the road was much better than they said.
‘What I’m not messing with you about is stopping at Bradshaw Army Air Field to try to find an officer who also knew Krueger.’
‘Did you find the house?�
�
‘I found the house and learned Jim Frank died in 2004. The house and the surrounding ranch are owned by an old close friend of his named Tom Casey. I just left him, but I can’t get a read on him. He raises organic beef. He’s got other businesses in the islands and a man living with him who apparently is a second son of Jim Frank’s, but through a different marriage. There’s more but I’ll bring you up to speed when we have better reception.’
‘So this Casey owns the property and that’s why we couldn’t find any record of any property ownership?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And he just let Frank live there?’
‘That’s what he told me.’
‘OK, and what are you hoping to do at the air base?’
‘Interview an officer who knew Krueger.’
‘Are you still flying home tomorrow?’
‘I’m planning to.’
‘Things are moving here.’
‘What’s happened?’
Raveneau listened now as she described Khan and his wife driving through San Francisco last night with two surveillance teams trailing.
‘Khan’s wife drove and slowly, so they gave her room. Too much as it turned out because two blocks after the Embarcadero Bart Station entrance Khan wasn’t in the car any more. He crossed under the bay on Bart, switched trains at the MacArthur Station, went north and got off in El Cerrito. He left El Cerrito without any surveillance and drove away in a car that his daughter borrowed from her boyfriend. They circled the bay and came back into the city via the Golden Gate Bridge.’
‘How do we know that?’
‘Not sure, bridge video, I think.’
‘That doesn’t seem likely.’
‘I’ll find out.’
‘OK, so then what happened?’
‘He parked five blocks from the cabinet shop and walked in. That’s where they picked him up again. Inside, he didn’t turn any lights on and examined the unit of larch plywood with a flashlight.’
‘So that answers that question.’
‘There’s more.’
If he knew about the delivery this would make him their prime suspect for the murders.
‘He moved the plywood with the forklift, removed the bomb casings, and put them in cardboard boxes before bringing his car up to the loading dock.’
‘Did he do all that with just the flashlight?’
‘That’s what Ortega told me, never turned the lights on. He loaded the boxes into the trunk and this is where it gets bad. By now the surveillance teams were into hyperdrive and when he drove off with the casings the Feds got a helicopter up. He drove southbound on 101 to the airport exit for long term parking. He left the car at long term and rode the shuttle bus to the airport.’
‘Bomb casings are still in the car at long term parking?’
‘That’s right, but not for long. Khan bought a round trip ticket on a United flight to New York, JFK. He paid with a Visa, complained about the price and the extra charge for his luggage, and by then our guys were in the airport. The luggage screened clean but they got him pulled aside and given the extra wand. The decision was made to let him board.’
‘Who made it?’
‘Someone above Coe. Meanwhile, surveillance was setting up on the vehicle left at long term parking.’
‘This was all last night?’
‘Yes, and as Khan went to the gate to catch the flight he took a phone call. Short call, but they got it, and it almost certainly came from a man who was already in the parking garage in a van on Level Six where Khan left the car. A man also wheeling luggage and looking like he was just returning from a trip got off the elevator at Level Six then got in a white panel van. He drove slowly down the row where Khan left the car, stopped alongside it, got out, slid the van doors open and transferred the casings to the van. I heard it took eleven seconds to do the transfer. Then he drove south and crossed to 280 southbound.’
‘Were our guys there?’
‘Yes, but the FBI was calling the shots. The van left 280 and headed toward the coast, and this is what they think happened. Once he was on that road he started making stops every half mile or so. He’d pull over. They figured he was watching for surveillance behind him and one of the teams had to go past. So there was one team behind him, one ahead, and the helicopter in the air. But there was fog and the helicopter could track him but they couldn’t tell what he was doing. He was in and out of the fog and still making these stops every half mile or so.’
‘And during one of the side of the road stops the bomb casings got unloaded?’
‘You got it, that’s exactly what they think happened. He stopped just long enough for someone to slide the van door open again, only this time to pull the boxes out. They found two empty cardboard boxes this morning they think held the bomb casings.’
‘Where’s the van driver now?’
‘In a house all the way down in Salinas, but the dumped van is in Santa Cruz. He traded into a pickup in a supermarket parking lot. And the casings are God knows where.’
‘Did they get plates on the vehicles that drove the road afterward?’
‘Fifty-seven vehicles, they got all of them. They searched four last night. It’s a mess, not to mention finger-pointing. I hear Coe is in trouble, but I don’t think he was directing the surveillance so I don’t get that. But Ben, that’s not all. Khan’s dead. After the call he took in the airport, he left the airport. Never boarded the plane and got in a cab. Cabbie drove him home and then went into the house with him.’
‘Where’s Khan’s luggage at this point?’
‘He’s got it with him and the cabbie rolled it up to the door. The cab driver went inside with him. Five minutes later the cab driver leaves. This morning a little after nine o’clock Khan’s daughter arrives, unlocks her parents’ front door, and finds his body in the front hall and Mom on the stairs. Khan was garroted. His wife’s neck was broken.’
‘Garroted?’
‘Strangled with a wire and a search is on for the cab driver.’
‘This was all last night?’
‘Yes. How far are you from this air base and do you want me to do anything from here?’
‘You could google something for me. My phone is too slow out here. There’s a place called the Ka’Ohe Game Management Area. Tell me how far that is from Bradshaw Army Air Base and how many gates the base has. This officer Victor Shay lives in barracks in the back farthest from the road. If you can find out anything about him, text me.’
‘I’m looking at Bradshaw right now.’
‘If he leaves via the gate nearest his barrack how does he get to the main road?’
‘Hold on, OK, hmm, paved road goes back to your Saddle Road about a quarter mile from the base and a dirt one goes straight ahead.’
‘Follow the dirt road.’
‘OK, recalculating, recalculating, go left at the intersection of Lava Road. Hey, I’m seeing the word lava a lot. Is it sandy and beautiful or is it a rock pile?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘From Lava Road he would take the next left and that would get him to the road you’re on. Do you think he’ll try to avoid you?’
‘I hope not but I’m sure he’ll get a heads-up call from Casey, the rancher I just interviewed.’
‘Call me afterward.’
‘I will.’
THIRTY-SIX
Raveneau waited at the guard gate as the call got made. It was clear Shay was on base, but just as clear he was going to avoid him.
‘Sir, he’s not on active duty this afternoon.’
‘Where does he go when he’s off duty?’
‘Sir, I can leave a message for him.’
Raveneau left a message and then reasoned there was nothing to lose by continuing down the road to the intersection la Rosa gave him. He pulled away from the guard gate, spotted a road running parallel with the highway and figured it was the Lava Road la Rosa found. Across from the intersection of the road and highway was a paved lot and a ranger station, Mauna K
ea State Park. Except for a pickup truck with state park department markings on it, the lot was empty. Raveneau pulled in. He backed the car up so he could see across the highway to Lava Road.
The only real leverage he had as a homicide inspector was if a senior officer ordered Shay to cooperate, and doing this was a little bit ludicrous, but it gave him a chance to think about Khan and the account la Rosa told him. He also had a view of the volcano, Mauna Loa, and he was glad to sit here in the sun and take a break from it all. The mountain was beautiful. He read they had numerous observatories up there because the sky was so clear. He watched clouds move across the mountain and then turned at dust rising on Lava Road.
Not enough dust for a training exercise with tanks, not even enough for a lone Humvee, closer to the amount a lone car would raise. He watched the car approach as he thought about the missing bomb casings. He picked up his phone and called la Rosa.
‘I got turned away at the gate and this is a real long shot, but I’m looking at a car coming at me from Lava Road. When it reaches the highway I’m going to follow it and give you the plates. If I lose you I’ll text them to you.’
‘What kind of vehicle?’
‘I can’t give you make or model yet. It’s too far away, but it looks like a green jeep.’ As the jeep turned off Lava Road and toward the highway, he said, ‘Lone occupant. Male. Middle-aged, but I have a feeling this base has got a few middle-aged males.’
Raveneau watched the jeep reach the highway and pause long enough to register him across the road in the park lot and looking at him. Then he pulled out and turned left.
‘He’s going my way,’ Raveneau said and then pulled on to the highway behind him. A few minutes later he read off the plates to la Rosa.
‘I’ll call you back,’ she said, and his thoughts turned back to Khan. When la Rosa called back she said, ‘You ought to buy a stack of lottery tickets. That jeep is registered to a Victor William Shay.’
‘So he’s running away from me. I wonder why he doesn’t want to talk to me.’
‘I know why. It’s because you ask too many questions. What else can I do for you? Do you want me to find you a restaurant to eat at tonight?’