Kay heaved a sigh, turned off the computer system, and went off to her own office for her briefcase. There was time for an order of french fries, one hamburger and a lot of thinking.
*** Sheena was curled up on his chest, while Bluebeard and John Samuel were carrying on a sham battle at Sid's feet, falling off the couch and scrambling back up again as each had their turn at being king of the mountain.
Supper had been a dismal failure for Sid though not for the cats. Forgetting how hot a dish could get in the microwave, Sid managed to drop the steaming, tuna casserole. The cats moved in for the cleanup, alternately snarling and pawing at the tempting morsels that were too hot to eat.
Sid decided to let the cleanup go until the felines had worked their way through what they wanted. The refrigerator had an open loaf of bread, now unappetizingly stale. Rummaging around, Sid found some Vienna sausages left over from some previous meal. A bottle of Dijon's provided an ill-suited disguise for the resulting sandwich. Only the fine white Burgundy redeemed what was passing for a meal. Ordinarily a two glass man, Sid decided he deserved to finish what had been left in the bottle from the previous night. Once having done so, the sandwich looked even less appetizing and he tried to pass the lion's share on to the cats, who would never had considered it suitable fare, even if they hadn't already stuffed themselves on tuna.
After the cleanup, Sid retired to his couch with his newsmagazine. The unusual amount of wine on top of the inadequate amount of food soon had its effect, and Sid caught himself dozing as he worked his way through a four-page article on the Middle East. The magazine was slipping from his grasp when the jarring ring of the phone brought him part way back to reality. For a moment he vacillated between letting it go through its seven ring cycle to trip the answering phone and easing himself out from under the cats to go and answer it. By the third ring, even though still not fully awake, he decided it could be Kay and, scooping up Sheena, he rolled off the couch, catching the phone on the sixth ring. Sheena expressed her displeasure at being disturbed by squirming out of his grip and going back into the kitchen to look into the possibility some of the tuna might have been overlooked.
“Hello.”
“Hi. This is Wayne Harlan. Could I talk to Kay?” Sid was annoyed, and for a moment he caught himself blaming Harlan for the disaster with the casserole. “She isn't here. She was going to a meeting with the League of Women Voters tonight. The lieutenant governor's supposed to be speaking to them. What's up?”
“ Nothing important. I ran into her today. She said she'd been by to see Karen, and I wanted to talk to her about what Karen told her. Did she tell you anything about the interview by any chance?”
“ No.” Sid was still trying to clear away the fog from the wine and interrupted nap. “She didn't get back to the office until after I'd left. She called tonight, but I don't remember her mentioning Karen. What was it you wanted to tell her? I can pass the word along when she gets home.”
“As I said, it's nothing important. Why don't I drop by the office in the morning? Maybe the three of us should sit down and go over things.” “ Sure. We need a conference to wrap things up.” Sid tried to remember exactly what Kay had said. “Hey! There's good news. Kay says she has the case solved. Even knows who killed Anton. She…”
Wayne interrupted. “Didn't she tell you who it was?” “ Nope. That's not the way she operates. She should have been a poker player because she believes in playing the cards close to her vest. She's convinced she'll have the proof by morning.”
“Do you really think she knows who killed Anton?” “ There's no question about it. Kay never makes any claims like that without being certain. I'll bet she'll have the whole case wrapped up for the police by morning. I know it takes care of your problem, because the only hint she would give me was she has proof it wasn't a hit man who killed Anton.”
There was a pause at the other end of the phone, then, “Sounds like good news. We definitely have to get together.”
“I've got to be in court by ten, and I think Kay is free most of the morning. Let's assume eight will be clear for both of us. Why don't you drop by then?”
“Great. I'll do that. See you then. Good-bye.”
Sid hung up the phone, shook his head and yawned. What was that all about? he wondered. Then Sheena came back from the kitchen, looked up at him and meowed. “ Time to go back to the couch. Right, Sheena?” he spoke to the now purring cat as he reached down and scooped her up, then went back to his magazine and almost immediately forgot about the phone call.
Chapter 21
Kay was glad she had driven the convertible, and there had been no grumbling from Sid at having to make do with the decrepit old Subaru. “It will be nice coming home with the top down and with the stars overhead,” she had told him.
When she pulled into the Malalani parking lot, she looked up at the mare's tails racing across the darkening sky. There was no other indication of rain, but she decided it was the better part of valor to put the top up.
The conference room was already crowded when she got there. Kay recognized several women, including Judge Raines sitting in the front row. Kay made no attempt to talk to any of her acquaintances but, instead, found an empty seat in the last row. She watched Lieutenant Governor Ching chatting with some of the women who were gathered around her. Kay had read somewhere how Marlene Ching had Portuguese, French, Chinese, Japanese, Native Hawaiian and Filipino in her ancestry.
After having followed Ching's campaign and her post election career, Kay became quickly convinced the ethnic minorities vote was what had put her in office. Lieutenant Governor Ching had little charm and certainly no charisma. At best, she was only moderately effective as a public speaker. Kay had voted for her as the lesser of two evils, and perhaps to some extent because Marlene was a woman. Kay now consoled herself with the thought the lieutenant governor's position was chiefly honorary, and the holder of the office could do comparatively little harm to the state.
Kay's reflections on the speaker's ineptitude were triggered by Marlene Ching's sudden awareness how most of the slides she was using for her illustrated lecture were upside down in the carrousel. Kay rapidly became bored at Marlene Ching's fumbling attempts to straighten out the slides while simultaneously giving a none-to-coherent explanation of some complex points in state finance. In the dim light, Kay tried to reread the packet Leilani had made up on the Harlan case.
Kay knew she had the explanation for Anton's death. The pieces of the puzzle were now nicely in place. The murderer was clear. The reason for the killing was now obvious. The puzzle was complete, all except for one crucial piece smack in the middle of it. Without the piece, the rest of the puzzle was a painting without the artist's signature.
Kay looked up as the lights went on, and the diminutive Marlene Ching used a wooden pointer to indicate a legend at the bottom of a pie chart resting precariously on the tray of the chalk board. As she tapped the words she was referring to, the bottom of the chart moved over the edge and the cardboard slipped to the floor. Someone in the front row rushed forward to hold the chart up and steady it for the disconcerted lieutenant governor. Kay froze. The falling chart had triggered off a memory. Several memories. In her mind's eye, she could see Sid's posters sliding down the walls of their bedroom.
The lieutenant governor droned on. Kay got up, excused herself, worked her way beyond her seat mates, and hurried for the door. The tropical night had closed in rapidly. Most of the stars were obscured by clouds. Kay almost ran the length of the long parking lot to where her car was parked. Her one thought was to get home as soon as possible to tell Sid about how the last vital piece had fallen into place.
The lot was crowded with parked cars but no one was in the area. Kay started to unlock the door, and then remembered she hadn't bothered to lock the car after putting up the top. Slipping behind the wheel, she started the motor and eased out of the parking place. It was not until she had turned onto the main highway and was heading back toward
Napua, that she felt the cold metal against the base of her neck and heard the calm voice say, “Don't turn around. Just keep driving. I'll tell you when to stop.”
*** There was no question in her mind but that it was a gun which was being held against her neck. She knew he was going to kill her. She wondered if it was going to hurt. She wondered about the oblivion which would follow. The vague Buddhism her family intermittently followed had provided little place for an afterlife, and the occasional undergraduate arguments over the topic had left Kay unconvinced and uninterested. The certainty she would very soon have the answer to the ultimate riddle still made little impression on her. Beyond the coming pain, all she could think of was the impact her death would have on otherson Sid, especially. She wanted desperately to see him one more time.
As these thoughts crowded themselves into and through her mind, she slowed the car down as though to prolong the moments which were left. The metal pressed harder against her neck in warning. The lights of Napua were coming closer.
The flat, unemotional voice behind her said, “As soon as you cross the bridge, turn right.” A car raced by them as they approached the bridge. Kay could feel the wheel, slippery with perspiration under her tight grip, turning as though by itself when she approached the intersection.
“Slow down and get ready to stop. Pull up to the curb half way up the block.” This area of town was at the edge of Napua's small red-light district. It was a short road connecting Front Street to the main highway, and consisted mostly of second-hand stores, an ancient barber shop, some cheap eating places and other similar enterprises. Tonight, it was deserted. The middle of the block was dimly lit, since functioning street lights were located only at the ends of the street. She stopped.
“Turn off the ignition.” It was the last thing she rememberedturning off the ignition.
*** She recognized instantly she was on a boat. The smell of gasoline, of salt air, of fish long caught and mostly disposed of, along with the slight rocking motionthese brought back memories of Uncle Nate who had always been so proud of his boat and who had insisted on taking a reluctant niece and an enthusiastic nephew along on some of his many, mostly unsuccessful, fishing trips. The next thing she realized was she was bound and gagged. Her body felt bruised and her head throbbed, reminding her of the car, the gun, the emotionless voice from the back seat.
The three-quarter circle of the moon had just appeared briefly among the thunderheads along the horizon, long enough to give her some hints about her location before it again hid behind the growing bank of clouds. She was huddled against the cabin, and was facing aft on the port side of a small boat. At the stern she could make out a tall form pulling on the cord of the outboard motor. At the fourth pull it sputtered into life. The figure flipped off the last line tying the boat to the pier, then turned and sat on the wooden plank next to the motor. Steering out of the slip and under a light at the end of the dock, the dim rays revealed an impassive face. Kay had not been mistaken when she thought she'd recognized Wayne Harlan's voice.
The boat weaved its way around the other moored craft and the floating T-dock. It then headed toward the opening at the north end of the main breakwater. Kay tried to clear her thoughts. Her fingers were free, but there was no way she could reach the knots around her wrist. With her knees bent under her, she could feel the cloth tying her ankles together. Without thinking about it, her fingers began to explore and work the knots at her ankles. The boat started to rock more and more as it rounded the end of the breakwater and moved into the open sea.
Kay knew what Wayne had in mind. A mile or two out she would be dropped overboard. What was it she had heard about drowning? It was not so bad, after the first few moments. The moon came out and she closed her eyes. No need for him to know I'm conscious, she thought and wondered why her head was not aching worse than it was. She wondered even more why he had bothered to tie her up instead of strangling her or beating her to death. For a moment she thought there might be some hope because he had not disposed of her sooner. She quickly let go of the frail straw.
The bow of the boat turned and headed into the shallow swells moving toward the island. Kay felt a fingernail break, but the ragged edge caught on the frayed piece of cloth and pulled it out of the knot. Her feet were still tied. She went to work on the second knot while questioning whether it would do her any good to have her feet free.
From the stern, again the unemotional voice, loud enough to be heard over the noise of the motor. “You don't have to play possum. I know you're awake. I just barely tapped you.”
She continued to worry the knot. The moon slipped out from behind a cloud, enough to show her more than the outline of the man at the tiller. It was not enough light to make out his eyes, but she could picture them–dark blue and expressionless. The second knot began to give. The boat turned slightly, and the moon lit up her face before sliding back behind another of the growing number of clouds.
Wayne did something to the tiller and controls. The clatter of the motor dropped to a low chugging sound. She followed his movements as he got up and walked across the intervening six feet, spread-legged to balance himself against the rocking motion which had increased with the drop in speed. Again the clouds opened up, enough to allow the moon to light up his face and the hand clutching a knife which flashed in the moonlight. She flinched backwards as the weapon approached her face. Amusement tinged his remark, “Nothing like a knife to wake someone up.” He reached past her head, steadying himself on the gunwale, and she felt the cold blade against her throat.
*** Nine-thirty. Sid sat up, trying to shake off the wine induced sleep, and slipped Sheena off of his chest. She settled for the warm cushion he left behind, curling up into a furry bundle. Bluebeard and John Samuel had long ago left to make their evening rounds in search of mice and other small creatures of the night.
He tried to remember what Kay had said. It was not like Kay to be late. The meeting had been due to end at nine. Maybe she had stopped to talk to the lieutenant governor. He walked into the bedroom and looked out toward the road and in the direction of Napua. At night, cars winding up Ridge Trail could be seen some two to three miles down the road. Nothing in the distance. He went back into the front room.
Maybe the meeting ran overtime. It was hard to believe the colorless lieutenant governor could have managed to keep the attention of an audience so long. Nine-fortyfive. He decided to call the Malalani to see if the League's meeting was still going on. It took several moments for someone to check with someone else who apparently had to check with yet a third person. No. The meeting had long ago ended. Someone in the background said eight-thirty, and the operator repeated the time. Sid thanked him.
Where could she have gone? Kay would have called if she was going someplace else. Who did he know who would have been at the meeting? Laura? No. The League was far too conservative for her political tastes. Sid went down the list of women of their acquaintance. Lisa Raines! Ten o'clock. Too late to call her? It was too important for him to be concerned about time. Ron answered the phone and assured Sid they were both still up. Lisa was no help. She had arrived at the meeting early and had not seen Kay, but acknowledged Kay could have arrived and left at any time without her having seen her. She confirmed the meeting had ended by eight-thirty and expressed her concern for Kay. Sid thanked her, the worry now evident in his voice.
Who else? No one he could think of who might have been there. Ten-fifteen. The police. Was he being foolish? He went back to the bedroom and looked down the long road leading toward Napua. A car's lights flashed into the window from the distance, disappeared behind the ironwoods, flickered on and off behind the screen of trees, climbed the steep rise to the hill behind the house, then continued along the crest beyond the entrance to the drive. The red taillights disappeared into the distance.
Hank! Sid knew Hank would be in bed, but Hank would listen. He punched in the number, and a voice still heavy with sleep answered him. It immediately showed concern, an
d Sid felt relief at not being dismissed as a needless worrier. “Leave a note and meet me at the station,” Hank said.
Sid felt even better as he scribbled a note. He was doing something.
*** The knife slipped up behind the gag and along her cheek. It was razor sharp, and a quick slicing motion freed her mouth. Kay jerked her head away from the knife and spit out the piece of cloth. The moon again disappeared, and she could only make out Wayne's shape against the dim background of the cloud filled sky.
His voice was low, barely audible in the stiffening breeze. “What tipped you off?” She said nothing, realizing now why Wayne had not killed her sooner. Without looking up, she worked away at the knot which was finally yielding to her numb fingers. Would keeping him talking serve any useful purpose? Her feet suddenly broke free, and with their release she felt despair rather than relief. Her legs were stiff and she knew her knees were badly bruised. What good would it do her to have her feet free? Never a strong swimmer, she could manage the length of the pool at the Park Center a few times. With her hands tied behind her back, she knew she would not even be able to float. A foot poked her sharply in the ribs.
“You can talk. God knows you've done enough of it these past few days.” Her mouth was dry, partly from the gag, partly from the fear coming over her in waves. She almost wished she had the knots at her ankles to concentrate on. She carefully eased her legs from their cramped position. The same foot caught her just below her rib cage and took the breath out of her. Her mind raced. She had to give him an answer, but then it really mattered little. He was going to kill her. Perhaps better sooner than later. Another kick, further up on the ribs this time, but less painful, as Wayne had been thrown off balance by the rocking of the boat which had slowly turned parallel to the growing swell.
The Yoshinobu Mysteries: Volume 2 Page 30