Lenny answered,“826-4489.” Then he repeated the number and hung up before getting any reply. Looking down the near empty hall of the plane terminal, Lenny decided there was little point in faking a conversation while waiting for the phone to ring. He was right. During the tenminute wait, no one wanted to use the phone. Hed paced the hall in front of the booth, his hip having stiffened up and his slight limp annoying him, but no one even walked by while he waited. He picked up the receiver before the completion of the first ring.
“ Hi.”
“Lenny?”
“Sure. Whod you think it was going to be? Santa Claus?”
“Done?”
Lenny, feeling the tension in the voice, smiled and replied, “Yup.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure Im sure. I just heard the call for friends and relatives. Theyre probably doing
the same thing at the Honolulu end. You can relax. Its all over. Ill catch the two A.M.” There was a click at the other end. Lennys smile widened as he replaced the receiver, but it was entirely a lip smile. Lighting a cigarette and sucking in a lungful of smoke, he leaned back against the side of the booth. The brown eyes were cold, and hard, and totally unexpressive.
*** Later, when Morton was to look back on the two hours following the announcement at the airport, he was amazed at his own swift decision. The first feeling had been one of overwhelming relief, and then of wry wonderment. A faulty watch, a flooded lavatory, and his own recurrent constipation had made the difference between life and death. The next thought was it would have been so much better had he been on the plane. A few seconds of terror and then oblivion would have been a small price to pay to avoid the disaster, the disgrace, the impoverishment and the inevitable prison sentence waiting for him in Hawaii. A decision emerged from the jumble of thoughts and emotions, but it was a decision arrived at in fits and starts.
They may think I was on the plane. So what! Theyll have a record of who got on it. Hell! Theres always confusion about who got on and who didnt whenever theres an air crash. Even with all of todays tight security, theres really no way of knowing whos on board and who isnt. It was then it occurred to him how Morton Dyer could almost certainly be listed among the deceased now scattered across the Pacific floor along with the bits and pieces of debris from the downed plane.
Returning to the exit and viewing the remnants of the celebration left behind by the party goers, Morton slipped the boarding pass under the door leading out to the tarmac. He was almost certain the cleaner would find it in the morning. As he turned to leave the empty waiting room, Morton felt more than relief. Only one more step was necessary. Back in Elima there was more than enough moneycash-for his needs, all tucked away neatly in his home safe. The two AM. would get him there in the early morning hours, long before Charlie would even be thinking of getting up. Already, Morton was planning to then return, by the first plane back, to a quiet Colorado town which held its own special attraction for him.
Twentyfour hours and it would all be over. Thered be grief over Morton Dyers passing, at least for the record. And hed be free of Hawaiian Harvest, of the threat of prison andbest of allof Charlie.
***
No hitches so far, Morton thought as he left the plane and headed for his car parked in the Napua airport parking lot. For a moment he'd debated about driving it. Would the ticket taker remember him? Very unlikely. Impatient drivers were already lined up behind him. The ticket taker would remember no one except familiar faces. His own face did not come under such a heading. On the other hand, the walk home would have been safer, but it would have taken ten minutes or more. No. It made more sense to drive the car, park it in the driveway at home where it would be unobservable from the road, and then bring it back to the same stall at the airport.
The night was warm. There was a spit of rain which promised to be over in moments as broken clouds raced across the face of a quarter moon. Wild guava trees crowded each other along the short road to the highway, spilling their fruit in careless abundance on the asphalt. Crushed by the wheels of the hurrying vehicles, the yellow globes yielded their sweet muskiness to the humid air. Suddenly aware someone might see him, Morton rolled up his tinted window and turned on the air conditioner. The cool air had hardly begun to flow when he pulled into the familiar drive. The house was dark and quiet.
The first hint of something wrong came as Morton stepped into the front hall and saw the green light on the alarm switch. The burglar alarm hadnt been set, which was definitely not like Charlie. Once the door was locked, the alarm would sound in the local security office if anyone tampered with doors or windows. Only a key unlocking the door would keep it from sounding. Mortons mind raced as he quietly closed the door and walked through the familiar darkness of his home. The quarter moon provided only enough light forhim to avoid the furniture and find his way to the wall safe. No, it wasnt like Charlie, but she must have just forgotten to lock the door this time.
Listening for house sounds, and hearing none, Morton flicked on his penlight, found the dial and opened the steel door on the first try. The cash was there, along with papers, most of which he no longer needed or wanted. Stuffing the thick wads of bills into his briefcase and starting to close the safe, he hesitated over the papers, then decided to take themand sort them out later. It was then he remembered the houses dark exterior. Why no light from Charlies room? She always left a night light on.
He decided there was one more item to take care of. It would involve only two or three minutes, and there was still plenty of time to catch the first flight to Oahu. Morton started climbing the stairs.
***
“Taxi?” The ticket seller had obviously been amused at Leonards question and repeated it half to himself as he checked out his receipts, eyed the clock and prepared to leave. “There arent a half-dozen in Napua, and they sure as hell arent going to be any around here at four in the morning on New Years Day. We dont have regular scheduled night flights from the mainland, so the drivers probably dont even know about this one. Maybe some of them will show up for the first morning flights from Oahu. But, then, maybe not.” The remarks received their final punctuation from the slamming down and locking of the till.
“Damn!” Leonard swore out loud. The walk from the airport had been a nuisance in the first place, and the light rain didn't help. His annoyance became doubly so when he turned into the wrong cul-de-sac and had to retrace his steps.
Finally, he saw the Dyer driveway. The door was unlocked as expected. He flipped his cigarette back out onto the flagstone walk, entered, fumbled for the light inside the entrance and flipped on the switch. The house was quiet as he walked toward the staircase heading for the second floorand then all hell broke loose. A cars lights lit up the dark front room. Flashes of blue streaked across the walls. Heavy footsteps sounded on the front porch, and the door slammed open to reveal two policemen with drawn revolvers.
Within seconds Leonard was leaning against the wall at the foot of the staircase, his arms outstretched and holding his weight, his legs spread apart, the barrel of a revolver pressed against a lower rib. His protests were met with added pressure from the gun and an “Enough! Youll have a chance to explain later.” The taller of the two policemen gave him a professional search. “Hes clean, Jerry,” he said in a low voice to the other officer whod been cautiously checking the several rooms on the first floor.
“Theres no one else down here, Manny. Ill try the second floor.” As Jerry climbed the stairs, Mannys quiet voice issued orders. “ Take one hand off the wall and then take out your wallet…real slow. Drop it on the floor behind you, then put your hand back on the wall. In the meantime you can tell me who you are and what youre doing here.”
Leonard complied. “Im a friend of the Dyers. I just got in from the mainland and I was going to stay the night here…at their invitation.”
With one hand, Manny flipped through the glassine envelopes in the wallet.“How do you know Mr. Dyer? Do you work with him?” He made n
o attempt to hide the skepticism in his voice.
“I really dont know Mr. Dyer. Its Mrs. Dyer who invited me to stay over. Shes a close friend of mine. Shell explain it all to you.”
“I doubt it!” Jerrys voice came from the upper landing. Manny and Leonard looked up at the sound of the disembodied voice, and then the second officer showed up at the top of the stairs. “Cuff him, Manny. Hes the one whos going to have to do all the explaining. Theres a dead woman in the bedroom, and Im guessing its Mrs. Dyer.” ***
The moon was providing just enough light so Jerry could distinguish the two figures getting out of the patrol car pulling up next to him in the wide driveway. It was remarkable how much they looked alike. Clyde Victorine, the pathologist, was probably a shade taller than Lieutenant Hank DeMello of homicide, but both of them were sixfootersdark, handsome men. Both were graying at the temples, and both were showing the onset of middle age in the waist area. The lieutenant was the first to speak to the patrolman.
“That him?” Hank nodded toward the man handcuffed to the restraining bar in the rear seat of Jerrys patrol car.
“Yeah, Lieutenant. Want me to run him in?”
“No. Wait until Doc and I have had a chance to check out the victim first. And send in the photographer and fingerprint man as soon as they get here. Where is she?”
“Second floor. Mannys up there.”
The pathologist was already halfway up the stairs when Hank began to follow him.
Manny stood aside to let them into the second story bedroom. Hank surveyed the scene as Victorine bent over the still figure on the floor.
“If youre sure shes dead, dont touch her, Clyde. I want some photos first.”
“Shes dead, all right. Not much question about that.” Victorine straightened up from his crouch over the corpse. “Theres a bruise across her right temple, but thats all I can see. No obvious wound otherwise.”
The bedroom was a spacious one. Hank always found it difficult to believe people had the kind of money which made the homes on Kula Hill possible, and this room spoke to the affluence of the houses owner. Blue was the predominant color. The bedcover, on a bed which had evidently not been slept in, walls, drapes, upholstery on the furniture, and a thick-piled carpet were all the same shade of blue.
A large dressing table at one end of the room indicated at least one occupant of the room was a woman, and the contents of the large closet whose doors slid back silently at Hanks careful touch confirmed what hed suspected. Only a woman regularly used this bedroom. The other major items of furniture in the room were a luxurious looking chair facing a TV-set. The latter was on, but no picture was showing, the DVD disc having obviously run out. The contrast was turned down, and only the faintest glimmer of blue light flickered on the screen.
Before hed finished his rapid survey, the scene-of-crime personnel entered and quickly moved on to their task. Victorine, whod been standing impatiently by after pulling on plastic gloves and taking three thermometers from his bag, moved in to view the corpse more closely when the photographer had finished.
Hank gave him a few minutes before asking the inevitable question. “Any guesses?”
Victorine looked up, grinned at the Lieutenant and said, “Its sure nice to be considered a miracle worker. I should be able to give you a reasonable estimate of time of death in another five minutes. Even now I can tell you she died less than a couple of hours ago, probably a lot less. What she died of is going to be a lot tougher to determine. This bruise,” the pathologist indicated the blue-purple streak running from the point of the victims left cheekbone to just below her ear, “could account for it, but theres no indication of anyfracture, so youll have to wait for the preliminary pm for a better guess.”
Chapter 2
“ What a hell of a way to begin the year!” The speaker was Sidney Chu, of Smith, Chu, Yoshinobu and Correa. Sid was referring to the news Quality Smith, the senior partner, had just broken to him while they were standing at the receptionists desk in their outer office.
Qual had established the attorney firm some ten years before in Napua and had devoted himself exclusively to criminal defense. Less than a year later, Sidney Chu had joined him, and within ten months Keiko (Kay) Yoshinobu had added her talents to the growing enterprise. After a stormy courtship, Sid and Kay had married and settled down to a quiet domesticity no one else in the office could believe, most especially Leilani Pak, the middle-aged office manager/receptionist who regarded herself as the guardian of the attorneys private lives. She had devoted much of her time and energy to matching Sid and Kay, had accepted Quals long term relationship with his house partner, Craig Thomas, and was now working busily at marrying off Laura Correa, the most recent addition to the firm and manager of the firm's small branch at the other end of the island.
Craig, who lived half-ablock away in his and Quals old plantation house, which they had recently purchased and were now redecorating, was sitting in a waiting room chair checking through a catalog of mail order foods. He looked up and said, “How awful! When did it happen?”
Qual adjusted his glasses, folded back the newspaper he was reading and answered with excerpts from the story. “The last message from the plane was at 12:20 AM West Coast time when the pilot reported his position. There was no indication anything was wrong. Another plane coming into San Francisco reported a flash in the sky at 12:21 and in the vicinity where flight 212 was reporting from.”
“Do they have any idea what happened?” Leilani asked. Sid, who by now was peering over Quals shoulder at the paper, shook his head. “They suspect it was abomb, but they wont know until they recover the plane, or at least the black boxwhich wont be easy. Twenty minutes out of San Francisco is a long way over the Pacific, and its a long way down.”
The phone rang. Leilani answered and passed the call along to Qual. Sid quoted from the paper, “Shortly after the explosion, the police received several calls from people claiming tobe responsible. According to the police, there is no way any of these claims can as yet be verified.”
“Thats just mass murder,” Craig said, still aghast at the news.
Qual returned the phone to Leilani, saying, “Youve got a local murder to deal with, Sid. The suspect wants legal representation. Hes at the station.”
As Sid got up, he handed the paper over to Leilani. “See if you can run Kay down at the courthouse, will you Leilani? She had to see one of the court clerks at eight, so she should be around there somewhere. She cant resist a murder case. Tell her Ill meet her at the station, and well interview the suspect together. Im going to see if I can get a bail hearing today. Whoever this…” Sid paused and checked the note Qual had handed to him. “OHearne is, hes not going to be happy about having spent the weekend in jail.” ***
Leonard was impressed, favorably impressed, especially with Kay. Though her ancestry was entirely Japanese, Kay seemed more Polynesian than Oriental, since her skin had the dark cast of the native Hawaiian, and her features resembled those of the models used on travel brochures to advertise the islands. Tall and slender, Kay was lovely by any standards.
While appreciative of her looks, Leonard was less certain of how well she would represent him, since Kay said little during the early part of the interview, spending the time instead at jotting down notes and observing him closely. But Sid seemed more than competent in that respect. Tall for a Chinese, though only an inch or so taller than his wife, Sid gave off an aura of self confidence. His questions were sharp and incisive. It needed no keen observer to recognize Sid had excellent courtroom presence and, by now, Leonard had begun to feel he would need a thoroughly competent lawyer to represent him.
Sid quickly evaluated the slender, dark haired suspect as he shook hands with him. The grasp was firm. Leonard made and maintained eye contact. His first words indicated he wasnt a local, since there was no hint of pidgin in his voice. “Intelligent,” Sid thought. “Decent education. Probably a college grad.” The quick survey satisfied him, and he moved on to the f
acts of the case as Leonard presented them, leafing through the three page preliminary police report as he did so.
Sid had turned on his tape recorder and launched off on the questions. “Did you kill Mrs. Dyer?”
“No. I had no reason to.”
“Let me explain something. Were your attorneys. Clients arent always aware of what hiring an attorney implies. The best defense we can give you starts with knowing the truthall of it. Now, if you did kill her, and if you told us you did, and ifby some wild chancewe told the police what you told us, it could not be used in evidence against you, and wed be disbarred in the bargain. So, lets try the question again. Did you kill Mrs. Dyer?”
A hint of amusement played around OHearnes mouth, his eyes showed none. “The answers still the same. No, and I had no reason to.”
“What were you doing at the Dyer house?”
Leonard began to speak, paused, then shrugged and continued. “She invited me. Wed been having an affair, off and on, for the past six months. Her husband was on the mainland, and she didnt expect him home for at least a week. So she called me, and I came over. Its as simple as that.”
“At four in the morning?”
“It was the first plane I could catch.”
“It must have been quite an affair for you to come over on amoments notice like that.”
“Actually, Hawaiis my home. I was just on vacation and was planning to come back in a couple of days anyway.”
“You work here?”
“Hmhm. Im a dispatcher for an air freight company. I work out of Honolulu.”
“OK. Well come back to your background. Lets go through what happened last night.”
“Like I said, CharlieMrs. Dyercalled me and told me her husband was on a buying trip on the mainland, and she asked me to come over. So I caught the two a.m. I got in at four and there werent any taxis, so I walked to the house from the airport. When I got there the door was unlocked,like she said it would be. Id barely gotten into the house when the cops stormed in. They searched me and searched the house. Thats when they found the body upstairs. Then they read me my rights and brought me in. I wasnt about to tell them anything until I had a lawyer, so I called your office first thing this morning. I guess thats it.”
The Yoshinobu Mysteries: Volume 2 Page 51