“Frank, I want to ask you some questions. And since you are in pretty bad shape, I want you to let us know why you did all this.” I look straight into his eyes.
“Did what?” was his response. At that moment, he passes out.
It takes the rangers around two hours to bring the litter to carry him back. We lift him onto it and raise him up. He begins heavy coughing. We wrap straps around him to hold him on.
I look at Martin. “I don’t think he is going to make it.” He looks back with the nod of agreement.
Four of us lift him up and start carrying him back through the woods towards the bay where the planes are. While we are headed back, and with one more bought of coughing, his eyes roll back, and he dies. We finally get back to the planes and put him into ours. It's a quiet flight back to Elmendorf. I release his body to the local coroner, telling him to make sure his body is sent down to Susan in L.A.
With this mystery solved, I feel we deserve a short vacation, and since Martin and I are already here, why not make the most of it? We make it to where I have my DE Havilland Beaver Seaplane. We walk up to my cabin, grab some gear, and fly out to one of the multitudes of lakes and waterways to do some fishing. We glide into what looks like a favorable spot, skimming the water with the floats and coasting to a smooth landing. We unhook the canoe I have attached to the underbelly of the plane and climb into it, Martin in front while I take the back. We talk about old times, where some of our classmates reside, and what occupations they went into. After we both catch several fish, we get back to the plane and fly back to the cabin. He cleans the fish while I get the fire started in the stove. We continue to do this for a few days until I receive a call from Susan.
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The Honolulu Serial Killers
Chapter 1
“You’re not going to believe this. The body I received is not Mr. Tan.” Those are the first words out of Susan’s mouth.
I think, how in the hell did he pull this off. “Are you sure?” I ask, knowing she would not have called if she were not one hundred percent positive.
“Yes. The DNA shows it is that of a missing camper from Tacoma, Washington, who was vacationing in Alaska.
Of course, I react, saying some choice words and asking her to make sure nothing was crossed up and it is the man we had carried out.
She informs me she has called the coroner and he assured her it is the body that was delivered to him for shipment down to her. That means Mr. Tan is still alive, and I’m sure someday our paths will cross again.
“Mike,” Susan says, “I have some more bad news for you. One of the bodies Charles Woodard examined and followed was believed to have been Sarge. You know; when the plane went down and we all figured everyone out of the group was killed. The dental on Sarge matched with what was presumed to be his dental records, so we just figured he was killed in the accident. But I decided to do a more thorough investigation, and the blood work tissue samples didn’t match up to him. So he still is alive. Because of that presumption, I am rechecking all of the evidence that Charles submitted, just to double check and see if anyone else we thought was dead is alive.” Just as she is about to hang up, she says, “Oh, one more thing. Commander Purepot showed up to work yesterday. Says he was at his cousin's wedding.”
“Okay, just keep me informed, as I know you will. I just hope and pray we don’t have any other presumed deaths in the morgue that are not who we think they are.”
Martin, hearing only my side of the conversation, asks, “What was that all about?”
“The Mr. Tan you and I helped carry out of the woods is not Mr. Tan,” I respond.
“Then, who the hell was he?”
“A vacationer from Tacoma.”
“But he had the same bullet wound where you had shot him.”
“I know; I saw it. I too figured it had to have been Mr. Tan.”
“Looks like we have a lot more work to do. This Mr. Tan is the most elusive person I have ever encountered,” Mark says. “And by far one of the smartest.”
“With that, I have to agree with you. Let’s get packing and get on down to the lower forty-eight.”
The Hollywood Serial Killers: A Mike Kane Mystery Series Page 20