“Why didnt you hire a private investigator, a real one?”
“I could have, but theres only one on the island who Im sure is reputable.” Nick reached into the top drawer and pulled out a card. “A Ramon Santiago. He works only part time here and the rest of the time over on Maui. At the moment hes committed to a job over there.” He pushed the card across the desk. “Feel free to employ him if you think he might be useful. Naturally, youll be working on a cost-plus basis, so whatever help you need is yours.”
“I know him. Hes thoroughly competent. If I take the case I might use him at that.”
“So you think youll be taking it?”
“The test has barely begun. Ill tell you what Ive decided after Ive talked to Mrs. Ono.After all, Im not about to represent her unless she really wants me to, and only if I feel I can work with her.”
Nicks smile showed his nice even teeth. “In which case, Im quite certain youll take the job.”
Hes really quite good looking, thought Kay, closely surveying the late Masa Onos executive assistant for the first time as he sat across the desk from her. He was wearing an expensive and conservative sport shirt. When he looked directly into her eyes and gave her a charming smile, Kay felt atwinge of guilt, then amusement. Sid hasnt been gone more than two days, she thought, and already the nice-looking males are catching my attention.
Nick passed a thick folder over to her, interrupting her thoughts. “You may want to take a look at these.Theyre a translation of Masas complete medical records. He had a heart conditionnot surprising for someone over ninetyand was taking several kinds of medication, so he carried his records along wherever he went.”
“Thanks. Ill go through them and see if theres anything there, but what I really need is legal information rather than medical.”
The phone broke in. Nick, without answering it, reached a slender hand to the box and pressed the mute button to shut off the sound. “Sorry for the interruption. Thatll keep it quiet. I take it youre referring to his will?”
“Right.”
“I anticipated you. A copy should be here from Japan by noon. Ill have it sent to your office as soon as it arrives.”
“Great. There are acouple of other things Ill need from you. First, write out the reasons you feel the yakuza may be involved. The other thing Ill need is a list of everyone in Japan, or here, whom you think might have wanted Masa dead. Tell me what you know about them and give me as much of their backgrounds as possible.”
Nick looked dubious. “I suppose I shouldnt be questioning your methods, but I dont see how the background of a suspect in Japan is going to help you find out whom they hired here.”
“Its a long shot. Suppose a major suspect is someone in the restaurant business whos traveled around the world?”
Nicks face cleared. “Got it. He might know the foreign chef here, or someone else who works in the kitchen, but aren't you stretching a bit much?”
Kay laughed at the skepticism written across his face. “Youre very tactful. You should hear what my husband has to say about my wild guesses.”
“Wild is right,” Nick said, relaxing back in his chair.
Chapter 5
Hank was an early riser, so Kay hadnt h esitated to call him at seven. The friendship which had emerged from their long working relationship made a phone call at home not only acceptable but natural.
As she punched in his number, Kay was thankful for the easy access she had to the local police department, an access she was sure was in marked contrast to what the typical urban attorney had to deal with. Toni answered, chatted for a few moments, then turned the phone over to her husband. The sound of their two lively youngsters could be heard in the background.
“ For a minute I thought you were a reporter.”
“They after you because of the Ono murder?”
“Uhhuh, but theyre after Chief Yamada a lot more. Anyhow, its a relief to talk
about something else. ”
Kay laughed. “What makes you think I called you about something else, Hank?” “Ohoh! Dont tell me youve got a client whos involved?”
“OK, I wont tell you.”
“Youll have to, because I know youre going to be pumping me for information.
You might as well know right now youre not getting a drop until you tell me who youre representing. Maybe knowing who your client is will solve the case right off.” Kay weighed some alternate responses to Hanks demand and decided evasiveness would be the worst way to deal with it. “I may end up representing Mrs. Ono.” Kay ignored the answering grunt and went on. “Now carry out your end of the bargain.”
Hank provided some of the details. Kay acted suitably surprised on hearing of the bodys last resting-place, though she already knew from the evening news most of what he was telling her.
“ According to Clyde,” Hank continued, “the Hobart raises hell with determining time of death. We could only get a rough estimate of the room temperature, since the air conditioning was off from twelve to four. So he had to pretty much guess at the rate at which the body would have cooled down. The preliminary autopsy is due this morning, but stomach contents probably wont tell us much either, since Ono was a notorious between-meals snacker.”
“Any guesses at all?” “ Sure. Sometime between midnight and four am. I told Clyde his guess was a great one, since it coincides exactly with the time the kitchen was empty.”
“Where was he killed?”
“Im almost certain it was in the main kitchen about twenty feet from the dishwashing area. There are some stains on the floor there which tested out positive, and Clyde has sent samples off to type against Onos blood. Itll be kind of embarrassing if it turns out to be beef blood. You know. Someone might a dropped a slice of prime rib.”
Kay suspected Hank was feeling more regret at the thought of a wasted cut of prime rib, than at the murder of a possible yakuza don in the kitchen of one of Hawaiis most luxurious hotels. She interrupted his speculations. “So someone went to all the trouble of hauling him into the dish-washing area, dumping him into the machine, turning it on and then turning it off again when he was hidden inside. It must have taken a lot of nerve to take the time to do all that.”
“Corky worked it out. Shethinks it wouldnt have taken more than a couple of minutes. She turned on the machine and timed it. It started up and moved the conveyor belt in far enough to hide the body in about thirty seconds. Besides, Ono was a featherweight, so it wouldnt have been difficult to drag him over and lift him up onto the belt. No skid marks on the floor we could identify, at least none we could connect to the thongs he was wearing. So whoever did it probably just have carried him over.”
“Sounds as though he was down in the kitchen voluntarily. What do you suppose he was doing there? It doesnt exactly seem like the ideal spot for an assignation.”
“His wife says he was a midnight snacker, so it wasnt unusual for him to go and raid the hotel refrigerators, even though he has a well-stocked fridge in his own suite. The supervisor said the employees do the same thing all the time, but they get in trouble if theyre caught. Since he owned the place, no one was about to stop him.”
“Why do you think he was put in the dishwasher?” Kay asked.
“I can think of a couple reasons. One was to get the body out of sight as quickly as possible. The other was to screw up any estimates of time of death. The killer did that pretty effectively, whether he meant to or not. Or she. Do you think there was anyone in the hotel between twelve and four who can account for every minute of those hours? The killer has an alibi by default. Unless they were actually seen in the vicinity, everyones equally suspect. So I guess were going to have to concentrate on motives.”
“Do you know of anyone who might have a motive?”
“Hey, Kay, youve been in this business long enough. When a husband gets himself killed, whos most likely to have a motive?”
“Dont tell me. Let me guess.”
***
Hank got to work much
later than usual. His children had managed to miss the bus, and he had had to drive them to school. Annoyed at first, he recalled some of the scrapes he had been involved in as a youngster. The reminiscence convinced him they could do worse things than miss a school bus.
Corky was talking to the desk sergeant when Hank arrived. “Where you been?” she asked him. “Weve been phoning your house and trying to get you on your beeper.”
“I forgot the damn thing at home and decided it wasnt worth going back for. Anyhow, you should be able to handle the routine work when Im not here.”
“This isnt routine. Someone found a womans body in Shishi Gulch. I was just about to take off for there and cover for you.”
Hank turned on his heel and headed for the door. “Cmon. Lets get with it.”
Corky had barely had time to slip into the passenger seat and hook up her seat belt when Hank slammed into gear, flipped on the lights and siren, and sent the car careening out onto the highway. “Do you think this one has anything to do with yesterdays?” she asked, bracing herself on the dashboards handgrip.
“What do you think?
Corky paused in thought, watching the vehicles ahead of them scrambling for the shoulders. Finally, she answered the question, and posed one of her own. “I suppose they are connected. Shishi Gulch is right close to the Malalani.” She remained thoughtful for a moment, then turned her head to look at Hank. “Do you know if women belong to the yakuza too?”
***
A keawe branch reached out and sank a thorn into Hanks shirt, eliciting a grunt followed by a curse.
“Cheer up,” Corky said, ducking under the offending limb;“the body could have been at the other end of the gulch. There must be at least a mile-and-a-half of this stuff between the road and the ocean.”
“Yeah, and it could have been a hit and run, and we could have gotten out of the car and had to walk only five feet along the pavement.”
The sound of their voices and the noise of their approach alerted the patrolman.
“Hi, Jerry,” Corky called.
“Im sure glad to see you guys. Ive been just standing here afraid to move. I didnt want anyone to bawl me out for trampling on something important.”
“When did you get here?” Hank asked, avoiding any preliminaries.
“Nine after eight, exactly. I was just about to park off the highway near the cutoff when the call came through. I couldnt a been more than a half-mile away at the time.”
“You sure she was dead when you got here?” Hank nodded toward the body which was face down between two boulders, its head crushed and bloodied.
“For sure. I checked her without moving her. Didn't really have to. If whoever did it used that,” the patrolman pointed to a fist-size stone, smeared with blood, on the ground a few feet from the body, “she was dead after the first blow. He must have hit her a dozen times.”
“OK. Lets look around, carefully, before the pathologist and the rest of the crowd show up.”
While Hank was speaking, all three of them turned in the direction of the ocean at the sound of something working its way through the brush. A bearded face suddenly peered out at them from behind a brushy keawe. The face froze in horror, then the figure turned and ran, stumbling and slipping, back down the gulch.
Hank pulled out his service revolver, fired into the air and yelled, “Stop! Police!”
The fleeing figure continued to crash through the undergrowth, now followed by a cursing Hank and an eager Jerry.
Corky called after the retreating officers.“Ill stay here with the body to see nothings disturbed.”
***
The conference had been called by Chief Yamada, and included Hank, Clyde and the visiting pathologist. Hank had already gotten a“preliminary” preliminary over the phone from the still awed Clyde. “You should have seen him using the surgical saw, Hank. It was like a concert by Yo Yo Ma at his very best.”
Hank found it difficult to understand how the talents of Yo Yo Ma, whatever they might be, could be of any value in splitting open a corpse, especially one whose cause of death could so easily be determined ahead of time. Nevertheless, he had hopes some useful information would come out of the meeting.
As Clyde had forewarned, Werner dominated the proceedings.
“The knife has off the left side of the mandible slipped, the left carotid artery and jugular vein cut, on the right clavicle bounced, and in the right superior lobe of the lung crossed and dug.”
The monologue continued with a technical description of venous trunks and arterials, hemoptysis and a variety of other obscure references to the corpses internal condition. Clyde, seeing the chiefs eyes beginning to glaze over, cautiously eased the German pathologist around to time of death.
This led to a brief exploration of the significance of livor mortis and rigor mortis, after which the stout little man proclaimed, “It is not possible accurately to estimate. Most perhaps between twelve and tree.” Werner went on to compliment the beaming Clyde for his immediate and correct measuring of internal temperature. The German assured the two officers no existing scientific techniques could provide any more accurate estimate of the time of the victims demise.
Hank was wishing he was back at his desk dealing with the other work left hanging because of this VIP homicide, but felt he had to ask at least one question. It had bothered him from the beginning that Werner had not mentioned the obvious, how a right-hander was responsible for the murder. It bothered him even more when Werner refused to commit himself.
Lifting a left fist in the air and swinging it down, Werner said, “We are never certain of the…arch.”
“The thrust arc,” prompted Clyde.
“Yah, egg-zactlytrust arch.” Turning and seizing the surprised chief by the shoulders, Werner bent Yamada to his right. Raising the imaginary knife in the air, he slashed it down and across the hapless Chiefs cheek, throat and chest.
“You see? A vertical stroke mit the left hand can the same wound yield.” Though unconvinced, Hank grudgingly admitted to himself Werner had a point. Anyone approached by an upraised butcher knife could be reasonably expected to bob and weave. The absence of any knife wounds on the hands or arms of the victim had been carefully noted by the pathologist. He made no attempt, however, to interpret this piece of negative evidence.
Hank decided not to ask for an opinion, since Werner seemed more concerned with facts than with guesses. So he shifted the topic, asking instead about stomach contents.
Clyde was the one who answered. “The final lab analysis of stomach contents and the knife will be ready in twenty-four hours.”
Hank could tell Clyde was thinking the same thing he was. It took the murder of a famous international business figure to make the forensic laboratory move with such unheard of alacrity. He wondered if the body they had brought in from the gulch would receive such expeditious treatment. Aloud, he asked Clyde when he would get to the newest victim.
As he listened to the conversation and grasped the gist of it, Werners eyes lit up. Rubbing his hands, he announced to the world in general how a bludgeon killing was “zehr gut.”
Chapter 6
Nick checked his watch. “I told Mrs. Ono wed meet her at nine-fifteen by the pool.” Kay stood up. “Id like to go by the kitchen first for a couple of minutes.” Nick gave her a questioning look as he rose. Without waiting for the question, Kay
said, “I want to talk to the employees who were running the dishwasher when the body was discovered. They should be there now.” Carlton Chang, the small, rotund kitchen supervisor, spotted the two visitors standing near the rumbling Hobart. The kitchen was crowded with workers busily preparing the next meal. That, along with the sound of the hot water jets and the rest of the dishwashers machinery, made conversation difficult.
The two visitors watched a large Hawaiian male feed dishes and trays onto the conveyor belt. At the other end, a Hawaiian female of similar proportions was removing the steaming dinnerware, all the while carrying on a
shouted conversation with her fellow worker above the din of the machine.
“ Sorry,” Carlton said, after Kay told him who she was looking for. “Youre out of luck. Herbie called in sick, which was a surprise. He usually doesnt bother. If he werent the assistant managers son, Id have fired the deadbeat long ago, or sent him off to the machine shop and let them deal with him.
“Mary Ann hasnt showed up either, and thats not like her. She was supposed to have been here at eight.” Carlton shook his head. “I cant remember her ever being late before. Not calling in just isnt like her.”
Kay felt a sudden chill, in spite of the oppressive heat near the Hobart, and was about to say something to Nick. Deciding she had come up with enough wild notions for one morning, she turned and indicated with a gesture to Nick the time for the crucial interview had arrived.
The meeting with Mrs. Ono drove any concern over the missing kitchen helper out of her mind.
Nick must like to spring surprises, Kay decided, as he introduced her to the striking blonde who rose from the lawn chair to greet them.
Immediately, Kay corrected her first impression. Striking was not the right word. Startling was more appropriate. In fact, Sigrid Ono was not even pretty. Nice legs, heavily tanned…a waist small only by comparison to a short, compact, sturdy figure…breasts which would not have turned even the most mammaryconscious mans head.
It was the face above the figure which Kay considered startling, and which gave the smiling woman a fey quality. Sigrids mouth was much too large for her face and, above her full lips, an upturned nose with a depressed bridge gave even more emphasis to the mouth. A broad, high forehead, partly hidden by an expensive, well-cared-for hairdo, and an angular face completed the picturealmost. Above all it was the large, wide-set eyes which nearly made Kay do a double take. In each iris was an unmistakable star shape.
The Yoshinobu Mysteries: Volume 2 Page 36