Hawaiian Crosswinds

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Hawaiian Crosswinds Page 6

by Linda Chaikin


  “Evening, Noelani,” a male voice said from the doorway. “Hate to trouble you this time of the evening. Weather’s kicking up a storm, too. Thought I might get blown away. Say, is Ambrose still up? If he is, I’d like a few minutes of his time.”

  Rafe recognized the voice of Marshal Percy Harper. So Hunnewell carried through on his threat to call the authorities. Rafe smoldered. He caught Keno’s eye. Trouble. Hunnewell style. Be prepared.

  Keno sighed and set the plate down. Ambrose stood up from where he’d been sitting as Noelani, the lines in her forehead deepening beneath her white hair, led Harper into the room. Harper paused with a look of surprise on his brown face when he saw Keno. Rafe wondered if he’d expected Keno to have taken for the hills.

  Keno came, coffee mug still in hand, looking for a place to set it down. Rafe offered to hold it.

  Keno extended a friendly hand to Harper. “Evening, Marshal. Looking for me?”

  Harper hesitated, then shook hands. “Hello, Keno. I’m surprised to find you here, I admit.”

  “On a Monday night after the men’s meeting I’m always here, sir.” He added, “I’ve nothing to hide.”

  “I hope not, son. Then were you here at the church tonight?”

  A moment of silence pervaded the bungalow. “Well no, I wasn’t.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Wait a minute, Percy, if you will,” Ambrose intervened. “We all know why you’re here. I’d rather Keno kept silent than say too much until we know what charge, if any, Oliver Hunnewell has made against my wife’s nephew.”

  “Sorry, Ambrose. I’m not liking this, but it’s my obligation. Mr. Hunnewell says Keno trespassed his father’s property tonight, hid in the shrubs, and jumped him, using a club, as he came along the walk. Had to do with Mr. Derrington’s granddaughter, Miss Candace.”

  “He’s lying,” Keno said. “It was Oliver Hunnewell in the shrubs. I walked by going—”

  “Then you were on Hunnewell property?”

  “Sure, but I wasn’t trespassing—”

  “I sent him, Percy,” Ambrose said. “An important message came to me over the wire from Miss Celestine. The message was for her son, Rafe. I asked Keno to take it to him. Keno wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t asked him.”

  Percy Harper looked at Rafe for the first time. Something in his eyes informed Rafe that Harper was suspicious about more than Keno. Harper was close within the circle of trusted individuals around Liliuokalani. He and his wife even lived in a cottage near Iolani Palace property. The Reform Party hadn’t wanted Percy Harper appointed as chief marshal, but the queen had pressed ahead and eventually won his appointment. Rafe had nothing against him; he seemed a fair fellow, but definitely against Thurston’s annexation group.

  “You were at Hunnewell’s tonight?”

  Rafe smiled disarmingly. “Let me see … there were several places on my agenda …” He tapped his chin. “Hmm, you know I’m thinking I need to be judicious about possibly betraying the confidence of some long-standing Hawaiian patriots. You should go directly to Hunnewell and ask who was visiting him tonight.”

  Harper eyed him. “You want me to ask Hunnewell? He’s claiming Keno beat him up.”

  “I mean Hunnewell Senior. Yes, Marshal, he’s the gentlemen to talk with. I think you’ll find he’ll tell you his son Oliver has been overly emotional these last few weeks. You know, the engagement to the Derrington granddaughter and all? Well, the ordeal has been wearing down on poor Oliver, if you know what I mean. I’m confident you’ll find Thaddeus Hunnewell will make certain his son withdraws any spurious complaint against my friend Keno. Mr. Hunnewell’s too smart to want an innocent, hardworking assistant to Pastor Ambrose brought up before the magistrate for an imagined evil by poor Oliver.”

  Marshal Harper considered Rafe. He pursed his lips and looked at Keno, then back to Rafe. “Is there something going on here I don’t know about?”

  “Why, no, sir,” Rafe said. “We’re hoping to keep Mr. Hunnewell Senior from a little embarrassment over his son. He wouldn’t like it if the papers begin printing stories about Oliver, you understand, and about his guests tonight.”

  Harper’s smile was cynical. “I’m getting the picture, Easton. But Oliver’s mighty upset right now. Imagined, or no. If I don’t at least bring Keno downtown for questioning, I’m sure to get some generous displeasure from Hunnewell Junior that’s going to cause me a heap of trouble. And I assure you and Ambrose that I don’t need that.”

  “I certainly understand those concerns,” Rafe said with affected compassion.

  Keno spoke up, “No wonder the Americans wanted a Bill of Rights—and no arrests without some proof.”

  Harper scowled at Keno. “You’re under Hawaiian law now.”

  “Hold on, friends,” Ambrose intervened, stepping between Harper, Keno, and Rafe. “Nothing’s gained by allowing anger to referee. Percy, I can assure you Keno’s not the young fellow to hide in shrubs with a club. If he’d meant to voice his unhappiness over Miss Candace, Keno would do it face-to-face.”

  “Well, I’ve no bones to pick with that. I admit this whole thing surprises me. Still—”

  “If you do bring him in,” Rafe said, “it will just feed Oliver’s pride. He’ll think he can harass anybody he wants because he’s a Hunnewell.”

  Harper sighed. “I’m sorry, Easton, Ambrose, but I’ve got to take him downtown for more questioning.”

  “Then he’ll have a lawyer present,” Rafe said evenly. “I’m coming with Keno. I’ll call Withers on the Big Island. A boat can bring him over shortly.”

  A dignified female voice sounded from the open doorway. “None of this is necessary, gentlemen; I saw everything that happened from start to finish. I’ll sign an affidavit if it’s needed.”

  Rafe turned to the door. Eden stood there. Her dark hair was windblown, her lovely face strained and looking tired, but her green eyes were bright and concerned as she stared at Marshal Percy Harper.

  She entered the room, and Noelani closed the door behind her. Noelani’s aged face beamed at Eden, the girl she’d brought up here at the bungalow while Dr. Jerome Derrington had chased the wind seeking cures for the incurable disease.

  Eden was still in her gray uniform with the white pinafore emblazoned with a red cross. Her cap, however, was in her hand. She was out of breath and Rafe thought she might have run most of the way to get here in time. It must have been some struggle in this wind. How had she learned Marshal Harper was on his way? He recalled that she’d gone inside the Hunnewell house with Oliver to tend to his “wounds.” Evidently she had overheard Oliver send for Harper.

  Before Rafe could respond to her arrival she came up beside Ambrose and faced Harper eye to eye. “Shall I accompany you downtown, Marshal, or would you take my testimony here?”

  “Here’s good enough,” Rafe said, hands on hips, meeting Harper eye to eye with a message he couldn’t miss.

  “No need to go downtown, Miss Derrington. We can sit down here, and perhaps get this situation settled tonight. That is, if, er, I can just excuse myself for a moment? I need a writing pen and ink and some paper. Ambrose, do you have any?”

  “Right over here.”

  Rafe drew up a chair for Eden, indicating for her to sit. Her gaze swerved to his. He lifted a brow with innocence, his smile disarming. “Always thinking of your comfort, my sweet.”

  Once she was seated, he leaned over near her ear.

  “I appreciate what you’re doing to protect Keno,” he whispered, showing the reason he’d wanted her to sit, “but don’t put yourself in harm’s way. Yours truly wouldn’t like it.”

  “Always bossy,” she whispered back, smiling sweetly.

  “Just looking out for your safety, darling—and mine.” His gaze held hers soberly. “After you’ve convinced Harper, you and I need to chat. You can tell me what you were doing at Hunnewell’s place tonight.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  He ignored the return
challenge and looked over at the marshal and Ambrose exchanging words in a low tone. Straightening to his full height he told her, “I’ll escort my ministering angel back to Kalihi. We can chat then, or are you finished for the night and going to Kea Lani?”

  She released a breath and shook her head no. “Afraid not. I need to go back to Kalihi. I’ll be helping Lana,” she said of her aunt, “and Dr. Jerome.” She always called her father “Dr. Jerome” when speaking of him to others instead of “my father.” When she spoke of her mother it was always “Rebecca,” sometimes Mother, but never would she address her as “Mum.”

  “You look exhausted,” he said, concerned. “If Harper starts to badger you I’m going to clobber him. Then he can haul both Keno and me downtown.”

  She smiled. “If you want to help me, you can borrow Ambrose’s buggy to bring me back later,” she said.

  “You’re working too hard. I don’t like it. You didn’t expect to be seen tonight at Hunnewell’s, did you?”

  Eden said nothing. His mouth turned. “That’s what I thought. You have guilt written all over your beautiful face.”

  “Really, Rafe! Go now, the marshal’s looking at us. He may think you’re passing me information.”

  “Just don’t pass any to him. Nothing to put yourself at risk, darling. How about a cup of good Kona coffee?”

  She smiled. “I thought you’d never ask. It’ll help me face the dreadful Marshal Harper.”

  He spoke to Noelani, who returned with two cups of coffee fresh from Hanalei Plantation, one for Eden, the other for the marshal, who sniffed it appreciatively. “Ah.”

  A few minutes later amid the growling wind, Eden began giving her testimony to Harper, who sat across from her writing it down. Rafe stood nearby, lounging against the wall, listening intently, and watching Harper’s response.

  “Keno was hurrying along on the walkway, going toward the back of Mr. Hunnewell’s house, toward the servant’s and delivery boy’s entry. He seemed to be in a pleasant mood; he was whistling one of Charles Wesley’s hymns. Sure evidence, Marshal, that he didn’t have violence on his mind. Suddenly to his shock, and mine, Oliver Hunnewell came out from behind the hibiscus bushes and demanded to know what Keno was doing there.”

  The marshal twiddled the writing pen between thumb and forefinger. “And what did Keno say to Oliver Hunnewell?”

  “He said he’d come to deliver an important message to Rafe Easton, that Pastor Ambrose sent him.”

  “And was Rafe Easton inside the Hunnewell beach house?”

  Rafe saw the eagerness in Harper’s eyes as they glued upon her.

  Eden hesitated.

  Vigilant, Rafe fixed his cool gaze on Harper. Earlier he’d been sure in his own mind that Eden’s presence at Hunnewell’s had been a spy mission for someone. At first he’d thought she might be cooperating with the marshal himself, since his group surrounded Liliuokalani and fully supported the throne. Now Rafe knew better. The marshal wouldn’t have blundered by openly asking her that question in front of Rafe. He’d have tried to gloss over her presence there and conceal what she’d learned. Yet he was putting her on the spot.

  “I have no idea whether Mr. Easton was inside the house, Marshal. The first I saw him, he showed up to help Oliver Hunnewell.”

  Marshal Harper turned to Rafe, wrinkling his brow. “All right, Easton. Were you there tonight?”

  “You just heard Miss Derrington. I helped free Hunnewell from his sprawling entanglement in the hibiscus bushes. So, I guess you might say I must have been there.”

  “Inside the Hunnewell house?”

  “What has that to do with Oliver’s complaint against Keno?”

  “It has nothing to do with it,” Keno spoke up.

  Eden interrupted gracefully, “Marshal, may I please go on with my testimony?” She continued whether he was ready or not.

  “I too, like Rafe, and Keno, was just arriving.” She looked demure, even noble. Rafe kept his own feelings from display by lifting his coffee cup as soon as he expected Harper’s eyes to shift over to him, which they did with curious intent.

  “And what were you doing at Hunnewell’s, Miss Derrington?”

  Rafe saw her pluck her sleeve, then lift her chin slightly. His mouth tipped. He could read her actions like a book, but Harper couldn’t.

  “I had a break at the hospital. I needed fresh air, so I went for a walk.”

  And somehow ended up in the back garden of Hunnewell’s house? Rafe thought. Harper, however, was apparently satisfied.

  “And you didn’t see Keno jump Oliver Hunnewell and hit him with a club?”

  Keno made a noise in his throat. Ambrose laid a hand on his shoulder to silence him.

  “No,” Eden said firmly. “That didn’t happen, Marshal. Oliver Hunnewell was quite angry with Keno and using abusive language.”

  “Such as?”

  “Oh—racist talk. Hapa-haole dog, mongrel, that typical thing. Keno should return to his own people and leave Candace Derrington to her better equals, like the Hunnewells. Keno announced that he, too, was a Hunnewell, that his biological father was Oliver’s blood uncle, who’d returned to England. When Keno said that, Oliver’s emotions exploded.”

  Harper dropped his pen and had to pick it up from the floor. “Hunnewell!” he repeated. He looked over at Keno. Keno gave a brief nod, appearing embarrassed by the disclosure rather than demonstrating pride. The marshal looked quickly back at Eden.

  Rafe, however, showed not so much as a flicker of surprise. He already knew. Keno had come to him as soon as he’d heard it from his grandmother last week.

  “Is this true, Ambrose?” Harper asked, turning round on his seat to look across at him.

  “It is, Percy. Keno’s Grandmother Luahine has recently sworn so, witnessed by a lawyer. I’ve only learned of Keno’s biological father recently. Luahine was the midwife.”

  Harper looked over at Noelani, who stood near the kitchen, arms folded under her apron. “Noelani?”

  “Yes, it’s true. Keno’s mother was my youngest sister, Pearline. She was the prettiest thing as a young girl. It was bad for her, though. It went to her head. Philip P. Hunnewell went for her in a mighty way and she believed him.”

  Keno conveniently slipped away into the kitchen, presumably to refill his empty cup.

  “Pearline faced disaster in her life because she wouldn’t come with me when Luahine wanted to bring us here to the mission church. On Sunday mornings she was always not feeling well, so we’d go off without her. Then we found out she was seeing Philip Hunnewell during that time.” She shook her silver head sadly. “She called the baby Philip, only because she thought he would come back from England one day to marry her. Well, she died a few days after Philip’s birth, and Mother Luahine renamed him Keno.”

  Harper was scribbling away. Rafe wondered if he even remembered why he had come. When he finished and looked up expectantly, Eden continued.

  “Oliver was shocked, then horribly angry over Keno’s disclosure. He lashed out and struck Keno across the face with his white gloves. I thought he was about to strike Keno again with his fist, when Keno struck back. Oliver fell into the bushes. It all took place quickly. The next minute Keno turned and left through the front gate. Then …”

  Eden hesitated, and Rafe wondered why.

  She looked uneasy, but then continued. “My cousin Silas Derrington appeared also from the bushes and trees and went over to Oliver. I joined him. I went to the porch door to get help, but that door was locked. A minute later Rafe Easton walked up and joined Silas in aiding Oliver to his feet. Well, that’s all, Marshal.”

  Harper’s pen scratched its way from paragraph to paragraph.

  In the moments of quiet, Keno returned from the kitchen, sober-faced and silent.

  When Harper concluded his notes he handed the testimony over to Eden to read. Rafe came up behind her chair and resting his hands on the back leaned over her shoulder to have a look for himself. Eden, after reading, handed
it to Rafe. He ignored Harper. If he hadn’t understood there was something more between them than acquaintanceship, he must have realized it now. He looked directly at Eden’s left hand where an engagement ring sparkled boldly.

  A minute later Rafe handed the testimony back to Eden, who met his gaze. She appeared to read his thoughts, for she took the pen, signed her name, and dated it.

  Harper stood to his feet, apparently satisfied.

  “Well, we’ll leave the matter where it is for the night. I’ll report this downtown, have a conversation with Mr. Thaddeus Hunnewell in the morning, and be in touch.”

  Eden rose from the chair. He turned to her. “Thank you, Miss Derrington.” He glanced for his hat. Noelani handed it to him. “Thanks for the coffee, Noelani … nice Kona beans you grow at Hanalei, Easton. You’ve got a winner on your hands.” He turned to Ambrose. “Sorry about all this, Ambrose. This testimony from Miss Derrington is likely to settle matters. After Hunnewell Sr. reads this, I think he’ll have his son shut the door on the matter. Well, I’m off.” He put his hat on. Rafe opened the door for him and the wind rushed in and blew some papers onto the floor. “Storm’s brewing. Good night folks, sorry for the trouble, but you know my duties. See you around, Keno.”

  After Harper left the bungalow, a relieved but still tense silence held them in its grip. Rafe turned to Keno. “So that’s why Oliver boiled over. Got slapped with white gloves did you? Tsk, tsk, my good lad. What did you expect? One doesn’t intrude into the ruling class, Keno. That’s something which cannot be allowed. It’s acceptable to have a haole father if one’s poor, but a haole father with the name of Hunnewell and a middle initial of P?” Rafe arched a dark brow. “You’ve offended the elite pedigree of Oliver.”

  Noelani laughed. Ambrose affected a frown at Rafe. “Such sarcasm.”

  “But fitting,” Eden said with a laugh. “You know what will happen now, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” Rafe said. “The news will circulate Honolulu’s better families that Keno is actually ‘Philip’ and his initial P is for ‘Pepperidge.’ The whispers will come round to Candace and—”

 

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