Wave of Death

by Charlie Vogel

  I shifted my weight in the hard chair and crossed my leg. “Look, Hon, I’m not going to make a stupid move. They won’t get to me and I won’t let them get to you. I made it this far, didn’t I?”

  “What did you say?” she interrupted.

  “About what?”

  “Did you just call me Hon?” She looked at me like I had suddenly grown horns. “Why did you do that? I don’t hardly know you.”

  My face suddenly burned. “I-I don’t know. It just slipped out, natural-like. I didn’t mean to get fresh with you.”

  She rolled her head side to side, her eyes locked with mine. “That is the second time you’ve flirted with me. First you called my parents beautiful and now you call me ‘Hon.’ You are too strange for me to understand.”

  “Why do you think I’m strange? That wasn’t necessarily flirting. I-I call a lot of girls ‘Hon.’ I come from Nebraska where my dad taught me to show respect to nice people. A part of respect for someone you like is to call them nice names. ‘Hon’ is short for honey.”

  Her scraped chin tilted up and her sore jaw muscles flexed. “It’s also a way of telling me you think you’re superior. I may be just another goddamn whore to you, but here, this minute, I’m not working. You will show me that respect you think so much of by calling me by my given name. It sounds nicer than some barroom slang.”

  Leaning forward to overcome my embarrassment that I had offended her, I asked, “Please forgive me. I really didn’t mean it that way. Believe me, I don’t want to hurt you any more than you have been, either physically or emotionally. Honest. I’m trying to find a way to get you out of here, to take you some place safe.”

  “I don’t get it. Why? You don’t owe me one thing.”

  “Lihua . . .” My impatience made me open and close my clasped hands. “Damn it! My actions have nothing to do with owing each other something. As one human being to another, no one had a right to do what they did to you. You deserve a better life.”

  “Don’t be so dumb. Wong has controlled my life since childhood. As soon as you make some deal with him, he’ll also control the way I die.”

  I shook my head with conviction. “You’re wrong, Lihua. No one can have that much power over someone else and I will prove it to you. Now, moving on to how I’m going to do that, I have one of the Storm of Pearls. Since that’s the key to get me into a opium den, I want to know if you feel up to taking me there?”

  “Why?”

  “To meet Wong on his turf and to get the names of the two sailors aboard the STEVENS.”

  “Now I know you are really stupid. Every single one of Wong’s men is watching you, just waiting for the word to kill you, and you want to walk into the lion’s den.”

  “You said we’re both dead so what difference does it make where I meet Wong?”

  “Right. It doesn’t make a difference, but he ain’t going to give you any names.”

  “Oh, he might if I bring the FBI with me.”

  “Pencils, this guy has Sunday brunch with the Police Commissioner. You think he’s scared of the feds?”

  “Lihua, I’m making this a matter of what I do to him, not waiting for what he does to me . . . or you. I’ve wasted enough time. Are you coming with me?”

  “No. I’ve always wanted to die in bed and this bed as comfortable as any. I’ll wait here for them. Maybe they’ll tell me that you died quickly before ending my life.”

  Fighting disappointment, I asked, “Will you at least tell me where the den is?”

  “Sure, it’s at the back door of Mia’s Coffee Shop. Just go to the door and let the lady see the necklace.”

  The ringing of the phone from the next room drew my attention from Lihua’s suddenly moist, red-rimmed eyes. Tanya’s voice called me.

  Leaving Lihua with her ice water, I stepped out and closed the door and asked, “Who’s calling me here?”

  “Mr. Wong,” she stated flatly. I saw no fear, only resignation in her face.

  I cleared my throat before mumbling “Make it quick, Wong.”

  “Pencils, it seems you took some more men off my payroll.”

  “Yeah, and I hope I pissed you off.”

  “Not really. You didn’t do much damage, only created a slight inconvenience. My men are replaceable.”

  “Even your number one goon, Huey Lo?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have another special friend who handles assignments with caution, a person known for perfection. You have twelve hours, Pencils. At two in the afternoon you will give me a copy of the documents.”

  I let silence hang between us before giving him the satisfaction of asking, “And what will happen then?”

  “Do you really want me to tell you and spoil the surprise?”

  “What about Lihua?”

  “Entirely up to you, Pencils. If I get what I want, she’ll be free to live any life style she chooses.” His voice down- shifted to cold threat, “But, if I have to wait a single minute past the hour, she’ll be taken. I may even allow the two of you to die together . . . if that’s what you want.”

  Since he was fishing, I decided to nibble at his bait, just to keep him anticipating. “Where do you want me to take the documents?”

  He laughed. “You have a replica of the Storm of Pearls. Why don’t you meet me at the Poppy Club?”

  I fingered the hand grenade in my pocket, the last one, the one saved for Wong’s teeth. I shifted the phone to my other ear and said, “Okay, Wong, I’ll meet you at two with the documents, but in the meantime you will leave Lihua alone. Do I have your word on that?”

  “Certainly, you have my word, Pencils. She’ll even be guarded at the health clinic, just so none of my more enthusiastic men misunderstand. Let me make this clear to you, I will have the correct papers this time. You will not play any more games.”

  Sweat trickled by my left eyebrow. “Yes, I understand.”

  * * *

  Stopping by the motor pool, I found the Kaiser repaired. I took the irritated Rex across base, where the USS STEVENS had been moored in dry dock. The Kaiser seemed to run smoother than it ever did. I ignored the a few dents in the hood and front bumper, because the engine sounded so great. Corkie had done a good job. The only payment he accepted was the Ford Falcon. He even knew how to get a title for it. Wisely, I didn’t ask any questions.

  Leaving Pearl Harbor, I returned to the barracks at the CenPacFleet Detachment to get a little more sleep. The sound of the bugle woke me at six. I pounded my pillow. Why did reveille sound louder when a man gets so little sleep?

  Before showering, I peeked out the second floor window. The car hadn’t moved since it followed me home. Identical to the one I gave Corkie, this Falcon had a civilian employee sticker on the windshield giving it access to all military bases.

  I had been wearing civies for several days, so a starched-and-pressed, white uniform felt strange. My limited wardrobe left me no choice. My civilian clothes needed washing, and Lieutenant Fisher’s uniform had to remain in retirement. Besides, the mess hall wouldn’t allow me in without being dressed in the Popeye Whites.

  * * *

  Belching burnt bacon and cleaning my teeth with a toothpick, I opened the door to my office. Jenny sat at her desk. She leaned back in her chair, looking very smug and very beautiful. “Pencils, you better get some knee pads for all the kissing up you will have to do.”

  I closed the door. “Who with? Mister Holcomb?”

  “Yep. He’s written you up for insubordination and failure to obey orders.”

  “When is he due to arrive?”

  “Another hour. His morning briefing will be over at nine.”

  “Do you know if Admiral Collins will be at the briefing?”

  “He never attends. One of his staff officers takes his place. Why?”

  I opened the door to leave, when Jenny called, “Come on, Pencils, don’t do this. Where are you going this time?”

  “I want to talk to an old friend of the family. I
’ll be back before nine.”

  She hurried to the door, “Can’t we talk a couple of minutes before you go?”

  “What do we have to talk about?”

  “It’s about that call you made to my place. You wanted Lihua to stay with me, remember?”

  “Yeah, what about it?”

  “I’m sorry I disappointed you, but I’ve never let my personal life interfere with the military.”

  “It’s too late to apologize to me or Lihua. Right now Lihua is at a clinic half dead and doesn’t care. And you are right. Your personal life should remain separate from the military. Should, but that’s not the way it works. You signed a commitment for four years. That means your life belongs to the government twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and, up to the time your contract expires, you don’t have a personal life. If you are shacking up with one of the locals, everyone in this office has a right to know about it. Sometime today, you either get rid of your boyfriend or get your ass transferred out of here.”

  Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke, “What difference does it matter who is living with me? I’m telling you it doesn’t effect my job!”

  I leaned against the closed door. “In my opinion, it sure in hell does matter. I suspect your friend may have connections with a Mr. Wong, because my movements came to Wong’s attention almost from the beginning of this assignment.”

  The hatred in her eyes startled me. I softly asked, “What have you been telling this friend of yours?”

  She returned to her seat and pushed in the button on her electric typewriter. The humming of the motor stopped. Opening a drawer, she began to remove personal items and placing them into an empty shoe box. Looking up, her lips parted to say something, but no words followed. Rising tears glistened in her eyes. “You can go to straight to hell, Pencils!”

  Without a sound, I opened the door and closed it behind me before I continued towards the elevators.

  * * *

  After a fifteen minute wait, the WAVE opened the elaborately carved doors of the large office. Admiral Collins stood up behind his desk as I entered. “Come on in, Marinous. I only have a few minutes. What can I do for you?”

  He motioned to my usual seat and I relaxed. “Thanks, Admiral Collins, for allowing me in without an appointment. I know you must be very busy, but I need to ask a favor.”

  He leaned back in his stuffed leather chair, his eyes critically assessing my uniform than my face. “Sure, but first tell me how your investigation is coming.”

  “I’ve kept my reports up. As you can see, I’m still in one piece. The only marks on my hide came from a knee to my spine and scratches from sugar cane. I’m going along okay.”

  “Sounds interesting and I wish I had more time to hear the details. You see, I haven’t seen any reports. I inquired about your investigation yesterday, but Captain Baker informed me you haven’t submitted anything.”

  Crossing my ankles, I stared into the Admiral’s eyes. “He’s wrong, Sir. I typed reports for each day and submitted them to Mister Holcomb.”

  He took a half-burned cigar from the seashell ashtray and placed it in his mouth. After striking a match and repeatedly pulling, he puffed smoke from the corner of his lips. “Interesting, don’t you think? Of course, I’ll have to look into this. Can you quickly give me a oral report of everything you’ve done so far?”

  I tried to summarize the events without skipping vital information. I even explained the recent episode of canning Petty Officer Allison. Leaning back in my chair signaled the Admiral I had finished.

  He took his time studying my face, the end of the cigar, then my face again. Checking his watch, he blew out a cloud of smoke. “For a simple assignment of investigating a couple of shipboard homicides, you have really stored up a lot of dead bodies. I’m not sure if the Navy will stand behind you, but . . . let me worry about that. Marinous, you go ahead and make that two o’clock appointment with this Mr. Wong. I’ll talk to a friend of mine in Washington. Essentially I manipulated you into this and I’ll get you out, even if it takes away one of my stars.”

  “I certainly appreciate that, Sir, but you’re not giving me a copy of Operation Market Time, are you?”

  His face darkened at that. “No, of course not! I do, however, have something a little better for Mr. Wong’s reading enjoyment. I’ll have it ready for you at ten. Pick it up from Captain Baker.”

  “Can I trust him, Sir?”

  “I think so. Why?”

  “Well, Sir, since you didn’t get any of my reports, something is wrong in the chain of command.”

  “Marinous, despite your support of the man, I think Mister Holcomb is responsible for not sending your paperwork to me. I’ve had Captain Baker in my staff for eight years and I know him. I don’t know your Mister Holcomb.”

  I nodded and stood. “Sir, before I go, there’s two more requests I must ask of you. I want the First Class Corpsman on the STEVENS assigned to me for two days, starting at 1000 hours today. Second, there’s a sailor I met who goes by the name of Brutus. He told me his real name, but I wasn’t in any shape to memorize it. If he’s out of the hospital, he will be in the base brig. I need him right away.”

  The Admiral wrote notes on a yellow legal pad. He stopped “Without his precise name, how can this Brutus be identified?”

  “He’s big and ugly . . . and he tore up a HASP truck with his bare hands.”

  * * *

  I checked my watch as I walked into my office. 0910. I glanced at Jenny’s empty desk and returned Lieutenant Holcomb’s glare. He leaned forward, spreading his arms over the ink blotter on his desk. His voice matched the stern, frozen wrinkles around his eyes, as he bellowed, “Coleman, what in hell did you say to Petty Officer Allison?”

  I calmly answered his question with a question, a trick I had learned from officers, “Why? What did she say?”

  “Nothing. She was crying and carrying her shit out when I got here. What is this Navy coming to? A person just can’t get up and quit because the work atmosphere is a little tense. You must have said something to her, something really bad.”

  “I don’t think she’s quitting, Sir. She’s probably at personnel asking for a transfer. I told her to clean up her act, then she got pissed and decided to move out.”

  “You had no right to say anything to her. I want you to find the woman and get her back here.”

  “I can’t, sir. I’ve got more important things to do. I’ll be gone for most of the day.”

  “No you won’t. You are staying here until 1600 hours. For once, you will put in a full eight hour day. We have a lot of things we need to go over and I’m not handling this shit by myself. You can take Allison’s desk because it has the best typewriter. I have some things that need typing.”

  I didn’t move, but continued to stare into the face I once trusted. What happen to this man? What had corrupted his common sense and integrity?

  Finally sitting back, I folded my arms and asked, “Sir, what happened to the reports I typed for the Admiral?”

  He placed a file at the corner of his desk then motioned with his hand for me to pick them up. I didn’t move. He sucked in a breath, then looked at the blinds as if getting himself under control, “I turned them over to Captain Baker. Why do you ask?”

  “No, you didn’t. Admiral Collins never received even one.”

  “Well, Pencils, we don’t have time right this minute to track them down, do we?” he stated. “I’ll check with Captain Baker later today to see why they haven’t left his desk. Right now we’ve work to do. In case you’re wondering, I patched up things over you being AWOL from the hospital. They want you to check in at 1300 hours today.”

  I stood and leaned over the Lieutenant’s desk, forcing my voice to remain calm. “Sir, what connections do you have with Mr. Wong?”

  His mouth gaped open for a moment, then he stuttered, “I-I don’t know what . . . He’s the man you named in your reports. I don’t know that Mr. Wong.”

  �
��You’re lying.”

  “Are you losing it, Coleman? How could you possibly connect me with the criminal you’ve been describing?”

  I decided to go for broke. “A friend said you were seen in his car.”

  He swallowed hard, his pupils dilating. I had him cornered. “Well, yes, I have met with a businessman named Wong a couple of times, but . . . as a dinner guest. We share an interest in antiques . . . on my own time! And my personal affairs are none of your business, or even the Navy’s. The Wong I am dealing with is a respected member of the business community here. Your allegations are out of line, Petty Officer Coleman! You will confine yourself to the operation of this office.”

  Uncomfortable with the man’s back-peddling, I turned away from him and went to my desk. “I’m very concerned about this office, especially when my life’s involved.” I propped one hip on the corner and folded my arms, forcing myself to stare into his flushed face. “Why would you need to build a relationship with business people, especially someone like Wong? You’re an executive officer on a goddamn ship!”

  “My duties aboard that goddamn ship as you call it limit my shopping opportunities. I buy antique jewelry from him.”

  “Ah, yes. You’re interested in jewelry. Is it possible you bought a copy of the Storm of Pearls?”

  “No!”

  I clenched my jaw. “Sir, I think you’re up to your neck in this shit. You interfered with my investigation of the murders aboard ship and now you are working very hard to disrupt the operation of this office. You’re one of Wong’s men, aren’t you?”

  He shook his head in disgust, but the color drained from his face. “Pencils, you can’t prove anything. You are rambling, obviously trying to save your own ass. I will not have you discredit me in the process. I demand to know who told you about Mr. Wong and me.”

  “You did.”

  Lieutenant Holcomb sat deep into his chair, his glare filled with intense hate, angry color returning to his face. When I didn’t look away his eyes shifted right then left. I slid from my desk, spreading my feet apart into a parade rest. Obviously, I had pushed him about as far as possible. He was at the point of either fight or flight.