I took a quick shower and threw on the only clean garment I had left in the house, a slightly tight Reyn Spooner shirt. I found some old socks and replaced my singed ones.
When I got back to the kitchen, Mom didn't hesitate. “You’d better tell me what’s going on.”
I gave her an abbreviated version of the events. “I know Sachi Takamoto,” she said.
“Well, Mānoa’s a small town, so that makes sense.”
She shook her head. “No, son. You all went to school together. Her sister, Maya was in your year. Sachi was two years behind you.”
Ah. That made sense now. Maya and Noni had been best friends. The thing about Noni talking to Sachi however was still freaky to me.
“Any idea what happened to Maya?” I asked.
“Lives in Oregon with her husband and kids. Don’t know if the sisters are close. Maya hates Bobby Hammond.” She pulled a face. “I can’t call Sachi by the last name of Hammond. Her husband’s a weirdo.” She kept watching the dog and apparently decided Susie was okay. “I’ll confine our walks to the garden.” She swiveled a glance in my direction. “I’ll protect her, son. You go help poor Sachi. She never would have married that man if her dad didn’t have such a bad gambling problem.”
“He did?”
“Oh, yeah. He used to play cards in Chinatown. Got beat up real bad a couple of times. Arrested, and everything.”
“What was his name?”
“Hideo Takamoto. Nice man, just weak as hell.” Mom dropped to the floor to play with the dog. “Funny thing, you know. I just realized I haven’t seen Sachi in weeks. You tell that girl if she needs a respite, if she needs a safe house, this is her home.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I loved her even more than I already did. I made a couple of calls, the first to Amy Jaeger, the Meals on Wheels coordinator. She seemed surprised to hear from me.
“You want to talk to me about Takeo?”
“Yes. Sachi Hammond gave me your number.”
Silence.
“She did? When?”
“Could we meet and talk?”
“Okay. Sure.” She sounded nervous now. “I have a busy day but I could meet you for coffee if you can do it now. Where are you located?”
“Mānoa.”
“Oh, me too. Do you know Morning Glass?”
I sure did. We made arrangements to meet in fifteen minutes.
When I arrived at the tiny coffee house, I was shocked to see Amy Jaeger was the blonde I’d seen the night before at the Hammond house.
“Hi,” I said.
She looked at me and frowned. “Haven’t we met before?”
“I don’t think so. I just moved back here from Kaua‘i. Can I get you a coffee?”
“I have one, thanks. Are you single?”
Why did I hear the theme from Jaws as a strange gleam leapt into her eyes? I sat with her, not wanting to break the connection.
“It’s complicated.” I didn’t want to divulge anything personal to her.
“Isn’t it always?” She sighed.
“Boyfriend troubles?”
She shrugged.
“Go on,” I said. “I’m a good listener.”
She shook her head. “I should have known better. I shouldn’t have believed him when he said they lived separate lives and he was counting the days until they got divorced.”
“So he’s married?” Leaving him? I knew there was no way in hell Sachi would leave Bobby Hammond until he had his green card.
“Yeah.”
“How long have you been seeing him?”
“Are you judging me?”
“Not at all. Like I said, I’m a good listener.”
She looked distressed. “Six months. And it’s been hard. He comes to my place every Friday night. She thinks he’s watching the fights with his buddies. I don’t know. The whole thing is weird. What’s really strange is that she’s the woman you said gave you my number. When did you talk to her?”
I feigned surprise. “Sachi Hammond?”
She nodded. “We’re pretty good friends. We volunteer together.” She spooned sugar into her cup but didn’t stir. She stared into the milky surface of the coffee for a moment, reminding me of Sachi staring into her tea the day before. “I guess she told you Takeo is looking and acting weird.”
“Yeah. She did.”
“But why? I mean, he’s nice and all, but such a whiny wackadoo.”
She thinks he’s a wackadoo? “He is? How?”
“He’s an artist. I have no artistic skills so maybe I can’t relate, but he keeps banging on about this gallery that lost all his paintings. Or stole them. Or something.”
“Wow. That’s terrible. I could understand that. Paintings are things you can’t replace. I don’t know of a true artist who could reproduce the same piece exactly.”
“I get that. But he’s let it affect his whole life. Won’t paint. Won’t go out. Won’t do things. Gets super depressed. I understand he was a rising talent in the business but get over it already.”
Wow. She’s harsh. A harsh home wrecker. She spooned more sugar into her cup. I wondered how many times she’d done it already.
“When did Sachi hire you?”
“I don’t really want to say since you’re ah, sleeping with her husband.”
Her cheeks flamed. “I know, right? Awkward.” She spooned more sugar into her cup. “It’s just that I’ve been worried about her, too. I mean, more than I worry about Takeo.”
“Why’s that?” Because you’re cheating on your friend?
“Bobby said she had a boyfriend.”
My blood ran cold. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Now he claims she left him.”
I couldn’t hide my shock.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No. She didn’t.”
“And you say she hired you to investigate Takeo?”
“Yes.”
“Not her husband?”
That took me by surprise. “No. Not at all.”
She seemed relieved. “You’re not going to tell her about me and Bobby are you? Because I like her and I don’t want to hurt Sachi. Bobby told me he was waiting for his green card. Now he’s saying there’s a hitch.”
“The hitch being that she left him?”
“Yeah. But the weird thing is he says it just happened, but I haven’t seen her for weeks. Nobody has. He hates that dog of hers. I’m no fan either, to be honest, but I find it hard to believe Sachi left the dog behind.” For the first time she looked concerned. She hunched forward. “The dog has been acting real weird. He’d let her out to pee at night and she’d start digging up the garden. She cries and whines all the time.
“It’s freaky. I mean truly disturbing.” She reached for her coffee, sipped, shuddered then tried to swallow. “Ugh. That tastes bad.” She frowned. “I didn’t know what a problem it was until a few of nights ago. He said it’s been getting worse and he couldn’t handle it. I suggested she needed more exercise. She’s used to being out all the time with Sachi. But that night, we took her into the garden and she bit him when he tried to bring her inside. I’ve never seen him so angry. He put her in the basement. I insisted he leave her with some food and water, but it was not a good solution. The howling from that little creature was unnerving. He was going to take her to the shelter and have her humanely euthanized, but she disappeared last night. So he says. Now I wonder if he didn’t do something himself.”
She seemed nervous now as she toyed with the edge of her collar. “He gets so angry. And you never know what’s going to set him off. He’s so sweet afterward. Sweet and gentle, and apologetic. Right now though, he’s acting super strange. Says he’s being watched.”
I opened and closed my mouth.
When we parted a few minutes later, my head was spinning. I’d
rescued poor Susie just in time, but I was very worried about Sachi. Where in heck was she? And why hadn’t she set up the burner phone’s voicemail? I tried her regular phone once more, but she didn't answer.
I got into the car and pointed it in the direction of Waikīkī. I wanted to take the Double Duty pen knife to the Beretania division of HPD. I felt dirty after my conversation with Amy Jaeger and wanted a shower.
At the station house, I went to my cousin, who smiled. “What have you got for me?”
I laid out my case and she, too, became concerned. “We need probable cause to check out the back of her property. You have that invoice you mentioned?”
When I handed it to her, she didn’t look surprised. “We’ll get it checked right away.”
I followed her to the forensics section of the crime lab and watched her sweet talk the woman who was checking slides. Within seconds, the woman dusted the sections of the page for prints and found a few good ones. We waited while she processed them. She handed Kathy a CD and said, “Good luck.”
We returned to Kathy’s desk where she entered the CD into the AFIS system, and the computer match began.
I was stunned to see an immediate match.
“Our man has a criminal history.” I held my breath until she checked his stats. She swung around to me, genuine fear in her eyes. “I think our girl’s in big trouble.”
I gulped, trying to read over her shoulder. The photo I saw was the new Takeo Watanabe.
“His name is Cheng-Gong Dan. A well-known art forger, but he’s supposed to be in prison back in New York serving a ten-year sentence for a huge art theft. Looks like it involved six other people and over fifty million dollars in faked masterpieces.”
I thought a moment. “Maybe this file hasn’t been updated. What if there’s a big conspiracy behind Takeo Watanabe’s disappearance? Maybe he wouldn’t paint, and they got in this forger. He sort of passes for him, and coming from New York, Cheng-Gong Dan wouldn’t need a passport. He’d just need a valid driver’s license.”
“Could be a stretch, but it makes sense.” Kathy looked at me. “I’ll look into this and see if he’s back east still, but if he’s not, it explains his fingerprints. You need to get over to Maui and visit the gallery. Pronto, Tonto.”
She was right. I made a beeline for the airport and called my mom.
“You got my message,” she said, sounding breathless.
“No, what message?”
“I took Susie to the vet.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“I was worried about her. They told me Sachi was there a few weeks ago and paid to have her micro chipping information changed. You are her alternate guardian in case Susie goes missing.”
What? Sachi had known weeks ago she was going to hire me? How come she'd taken so long to follow through? I thought for a moment. According to the bank teller, she’d ordered the thousand dollar bills around the same time. Why had she waited? Was she so afraid of her husband? I had to know. I wondered what had gone on before Sachi came to me. As a cop I’d dealt with a lot of domestic violence cases and most women I talked to had a defining moment that made them leave.
“Okay. Mom, I want you to go to my place for a couple of days.”
“Why? You hate that place, and so do I.”
“I know, but I have a bad feeling that the vet might call Bobby Hammond and tell him you were there. He was going to have the dog euthanized this morning.”
“Over my dead body.” Mom got hysterical instantly.
I blew out a frustrated breath. “I wish I were closer. I’d come get you.”
“We’re leaving right now.”
“You have my spare key, right?”
“Yes.” She didn’t sound like herself at all. “Bobby Hammond’s calling on the other line. Oh my God.”
“Get out of there. Now.”
“We’re going. Why would the vet do that?”
“Bobby probably told them the dog was missing. No time for questions. Get going.”
“I’ll call you when we’re at your place.”
She ended the call, and I drove into the airport parking lot hoping my feisty mom could handle herself. Stress caused me to hyperventilate as I parked in the short-term lot. I crossed over to the go! Airlines terminal and booked the first flight Maui-bound I could get. Noon. That gave me an hour to sit and fret.
My phone rang. It was Kathy, who gave me an update. “Cheng-Gong Dan was released eleven days ago from Sing Sing.”
“According to Sachi Hammond, the new Takeo Watanabe showed up about a week ago.”
“Right. And there’s no earthly reason for Cheng-Gong Dan to be in Hawai‘i. As a matter of fact, he was supposed to check in with his probation officer two days ago and never did. He was supposed to serve time in a halfway house with a work furlough program the day before, but never returned. I guess because he was considered low risk, it didn’t make the papers.”
“So he didn’t necessarily kill the real Takeo Watanabe.”
“Who do you like for it?” she asked.
“I still like the husband for it, but I’m not sure. I’ll call you from Maui.”
“Danny, I did find out that Watanabe had a career in Japan but was a slow producer. I found what you told me about his paintings being stolen fascinating because there’s nothing online about it.”
“Can you get a search warrant for his property?”
“I hope so.”
I spent some time on my laptop trying to find out anything I could about the gallery where Takeo Watanabe had held his show. It turned out that the Rainbow Goddess was Japanese-owned, with a chain of galleries in Japan and one in Maui. The featured artists included Watanabe, but he was the only one whose personal link to a photo and bio didn’t work.
The first call for my flight sent my blood pressure up a few points.
I was relieved when my mom called. “Susie and I like it here. I had no idea you had such a great view of Diamond Head. I think we’ll take a nap on the sofa.”
“Do that. I’ll be in touch.” I boarded my flight with the last batch of travelers and clutched the armrest for the entire thirty-five minute trip, not because I had a fear of flying but because I felt time was getting away from us, and I was worried the bad guys would disappear before we could do anything to stop them.
I rented a car at Kahului Airport and drove straight to Lāhainā. Traffic was as bad here as it was in O’ahu, but I made it to Front Street thirty minutes later. Finding a parking space took longer. I found one eventually and made my way to the gallery. I was stunned to see a huge sign in the window advertising a new exhibit by Japanese artist, Takeo Watanabe.
“Meet the artist!” the signs said. “He will be painting in our studio tomorrow!”
I studied the photo of a grinning Cheng-Gong Dan and noticed he’d kept his mouth closed. Those teeth would have been a giveaway for anyone who knew the real Takeo Watanabe.
A blond man from inside the gallery approached me. “Are you a fan?”
“You had an exhibit of his work a while ago, and I loved everything he had.”
The man smiled. “Come on in and take a look at his new piece. You may or may not know he takes a long time to complete a single painting.”
“I had no idea.” I followed him inside. Lined against one wall were some paintings wrapped and stacked. A few hung on the walls. I studied them. They were impressionistic in style with the composition made up of tiny dots. I had to stand back to get the full effect. I realized I was looking at a Maui sunset.
“Breathtaking,” I said.
“We have seventeen pieces from his previous collection, which have never been seen before. Six new ones, too. But this one’s my favorite.” He led me to a corner of the gallery where a framed painting hung under a pendant lamp. My heart almost broke as I studied it. The paintin
g was called “Fire Princess.” It showed a man and woman entwined. Flames surrounded them, but only their passion seemed to be on their minds.
I looked at the woman. I can’t explain it, but I knew, just knew that Sachi Hammond was dead. She was the woman in the picture. I would have staked my life on it. And the passion depicted in that searing image was probably what immortalized her, but extinguished her mortal life.
I went outside and called Kathy. She told me a team of detectives had gone to Takeo Watanabe’s home, but neither he nor Cheng-Gong Dan were home.
“We have a unit watching the house. We’ve been authorized by the New York State Corrections Authority to apprehend him. I’ve put a call through to the U.S. Marshals. We just haven’t located him yet.”
“I don’t know where he is right now, but he's supposed to be painting here tomorrow,” I told her. Careful not to blow my cover, I took photos of the signs in the window and sent them to her.
“Can you send me photos of anything inside?”
I went back in. Whenever the gallery manager’s back was turned, I snapped shots of the stacked paintings I was beginning to suspect were the “stolen” items, and, miraculously, grabbed one of the Fire Princess. I had to do it while the blond guy was on the phone. He came over at one point and smiled.
“You love her, don’t you?”
“I sure do.” He’d already told me the painting was selling for quarter of a million dollars.
“She looks so real, doesn’t she?” His stare made me uncomfortable.
“Yes.”
“You have to meet the artist.” He smiled.
“I’ll come back for sure.”
“There are other pieces. You should come to the stockroom and look. There are a few cheaper pieces you might like.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’ll come by tomorrow.” Something about him unnerved me. Then I realized he was coming on to me. It had been so long, I didn’t recognize a pickup line anymore.
Giving him a friendly wave, I went back outside and sent all the images to Kathy. I got a phone call a few seconds later from her saying that I’d be hearing from a Maui Police Department detective.
Paradise, Passion, Murder Page 26