“Hell! Who cares? Im going to drive her and her brats over there, and youre welcome to meet us out at the parking lot.”
*** Pulling into the lot just behind Corky, Kay was surprised to see the sergeant driving a regular patrol car. She followed it across the lot to an old Dodge Colt parked close to the pay booth. The patrol car stopped, and the rear doors immediately flew open. Two, nine or ten year-olds piled out as though from a circus vehicle, and both made for the cyclone fence surrounding the lot. A contest soon emerged to see who could most successfully scale the barrier. From the passenger side of the vehicle, a blonde woman, with hard blue eyes, a rather long chin and thin lipsthickened through the benefit of a purplish red lipstickemerged, shouted at the children to get down and, without waiting to see if her order had any effect, turned toward Kay.
“Youre the one whos defending Charlies murderer, arent you?” the blonde woman asked.
Kay started to say something to the effect she was defending a suspect, only to be interrupted. “My names Lamerne Mann, Charlies sister.” The swing of the outstretched hand was a strangely masculine gesture. “Wheres the damn locksmith?” she continued, dropping Kays hand and turning to survey the parked car.
Corky hadnt moved from the drivers seat, so Kay went around to see her. Corky looked up. “This is the first time I was ever really glad to have a wire mesh up behind me.” Corky waved a thumb back at the prisoners cage. “I just got a call from the station,” she added, “Can you give her a ride to her hotelin case the locksmith cant get the thing started?”
Kay nodded, and had the distinct impression the ordinarily truthful Corky had just made up the need to be back at the station. The patrol car wheeled away with a screech of tires.
In the meantime, the two fence climbers had switched their attention to the Dodge. Since it seemed unlikely she was going to be introduced to them, and knowing for sure she wasnt about to ask their names, Kay decided thatfor conveniences sakethe blonde one would be“Whitehead” and the dark one, “Blackhead.” Lamerne gave no further clues to identification, though she continually issued ignored commands to the pair. The admonitions never included namesunnecessary additions in any case, since the twinsif they were twinswere invariably engaged in similar activities at any given moment.
“It looks like a wreck,” Lamerne said, inspecting the car and showing growing signs of distaste. “Why would a successful businessman drive an old tin can like this? And why is it so damn dirty?”
Kay indicated heavy moving equipment about a hundred yards away. “Theyre expanding the airport, and weve had a lot of wind lately. I know they were hard at work last week, which probably accounts for the dust.” She shrugged her shoulders.
Blackhead had discovered the side door of the car was an excellent drawing tablet. Through the thick dust, her finger carefully printed, “Fuck you.” Lamerne screamed. “Erase that, this minute.” Whitehead paused, presumably in admiration ofher sisters handiwork then, in even larger letters, painstakingly wrote the same arresting phrase in large block letters. The game continued, the moving fingers wrote along the side panels, over the side windows, along the back and then to the other side.
“Wheres the damn locksmith?” Lamerne asked again of no one in particular.
“Was it Louie?” Kay asked, then wondered why shed asked, since Louie was the only locksmith on this side of the island.
“Yeah. Thats his name. He was supposed to have been here at one.”
Kay looked at her watch. It was barely five minutes after, certainly far too soon to start worrying about the non-arrival of a workman in Hawaii. A half-hour late was the more likely TOA. But then, Kay knew Louie. In his case, he would almost certainly beat the standard deadline. Kay didnt share her surmise with her companion.
Louie was Alfonso Jacinto, a nephew of Leilani Paks, who had discovered his talent for unlocking doors a bit too early in life. At eighteen, hed ended up in court with Sid as his defense attorney. It had been a close one. But between the persuasiveness of the court, via a probationary sentence, a fatherly talk from Sid and Qual following the trial, and a humongous dressing down by Leilani, Alfonso had decided it was the better part of valor to apply his talents to a more legitimate enterprise. Establishing himself in a kiosk in Napuas only mall, and changing his name for purposes of alliteration, Louie the Locksmith had soon developed a thriving business.
“Can you imagine a business executive driving something like that?” Lamerne repeated. She walked around the vehicle as the twins were finishing their self appointed task on the offside doors. About then, Whitehead decided to climb up on the hood to apply her calligraphy to the windshield. Kay watched as Whitehead knelt, poised to write her unvarying slogan, and then the twin looked both puzzled and dismayed.
Kay stepped around the car, and soon saw the reason for the emotion. The oversize wipers had almost completely cleaned the windshield of the thick grime. Whitehead settled for scribbling on the hood, an unsatisfactory medium since she had already badly smudged the writing surface. Blackhead joined her, and soon the two of them had discovered the virginal surface of thecars roof.
Lamernes “Get off of there!” was interrupted by the approach of a van. Louie the Locksmith had arrived.
Kay realized almost immediately something was amiss. While Louie had been a client of the law firm some months prior to Kays becoming a member, they still knew each other by sight, and Kay had even once made use of his services when she had locked her keys in her car. Her impression of him at the time was of someone who was efficient, honest, polite, and just generally an agreeable and competent person. There was no evidence of any of those traits on this occasion.
Just barely nodding his recognition of Kay, he opened the sliding door of his van and pulled out a small tool box. Lamerne immediately hovered over him. “Where have you been? Ive got an appointment at two.” Meanwhile, the twins shifted their attention to the new arrival. Louie watched the two creatures approaching him, turned and ostentatiously locked the door to the van.
“Thatll be forty dollars,” he said to Lamerne, ignoring her questions.
As the twins moved around the vehicle, Louie moved with them, keeping between them and the van and locking the doors to the cab.
Forty dollars seemed an overly large sum to Kay. But then again, he had no assistant. The kiosk would have to be closed, and allowances would have to be made for business lost there. And it might take a good bit of time to make up a key for the old Dodge. Certainly, it wasnt going to be the simple job he had done for Kay for only five dollars.
“Forty dollars!” Lamernes voice went up an octave. “Thats highway robbery.”
Louie shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He reached into his pocket, evidently getting ready to open the van and redeposit his tool box. By then, the twins, finding Louies vehicle too clean for their talents, had lost interest and were crawling under the Dodge.
Kay began to have an inkling the previous phone conversation between Lamerne and Louie could well account for the young locksmiths unwonted hostility.
“Wait a minute. Can you guarantee to get the car started?”
“Nope.” (Kay knew he had jump starters in his van and provided the service at no additional charge to his customers.)“Ill see you get a key you can turn in the ignition. Thats it.”
“OK. OK. But, hurry.”
“Pay first.”
“What?”
“Pay first.”
This totally uncharacteristic request for an up front payment convinced Kay her earlier surmise had been correct. Her phone call must have been what Corky would have called “something else again”, Kay decided.
The anger on Lamernes face was palpable. The cords on her neck stood out. Her prominent chin seemed to jut out even further. Her hands shook as she unzipped her fanny pack and took out her check book.
Louies face was expressionless. “No checks.”
“I cant believe this. This is worse than highway robbery. Why cant you take a check? I d
ont have the cash.”
Louie shrugged and turned back toward his van.
“Wait a minute. Will you take a travelers check?”
Louie looked over at Kay. Having long before decided not to become involved, the silent Kay managed to keep a blank face. After moments of hesitation, Louie answered, “Yeah.”
Fumbling, Lamerne reached back into the pack, emerged with a thick pad of travelers checks, signed two, and handed them to Louie. He examined them closely, folded them slowly, took out his wallet, inserted them into a section already thick with paper and bills and replaced the wallet in a pocket inside his coveralls. Then, walking over to the dust covered Dodge, he peered through the drivers window and placed his tool box up on the hood.
The next thing he did surprised Kay. At first, she thought hed suddenly had the urge to play with the twins who were squeezing themselves under the low slung vehicle. Walking toward the front of the car, Louie knelt down and ran his hand along behind the bumper.
Lamerne muttered, seemingly to Kay but probably more to herself, “What kind of a damn locksmith is this idiot? He doesnt even know where the door lock is.”
A few moments passed, Louie stood up, brushed off his knees with one hand and opened the other to reveal a magnetic box. Inside, wrapped up in an old dollar bill, was a key. Taking it out of its nest, he tried it in the car door. It opened immediately. Sliding into the seat, he slipped the key into the ignition. In a moment, the starter whirred the engine into life, convincing Whitehead and Blackhead it was time to give up their hiding place. Louie then shut off the motor, slipped out of the car and handed the key, the magnetic holder and the crumpled dollar bill to Lamerne. Turning on his heel, he reached for his toolbox and started off toward his van.
For a moment, Lamerne was speechless, then she exploded. “You cant charge me forty dollars just for finding a spare key!!”
For the first time Louies face became expressive. One side of his mouth curved up ever so slightly. “Lady, I just did.”
***
Sid looked up in surprise as Kay flopped down into the office chair on the other side of his desk. “You look frazzled,” he said.
“Believe me, I am. I just finished interviewing Charlotte Dyers sister.”
Sid looked skeptical. “So? Ive seen you question a lot of tough ones before, and shes not even a suspect.”
“Im glad of that. With luck, I wont have to have anything more to do with her.” “Well? What was so bad about her?”
“Shes a monster, all on her own, and she has two of the most impossible kids Ive ever run into. God! The Malalani will probably have to seal off their room after theyve left.”
“Did you get anything useful out of her.”
“Im not sure. I havent had the time or the energy to digest it yet. Lets see.” Kay slumped down in the chair. “According to her, Charlotte didnt have any enemies. But if she was anything like Lamerne, there was probably a lineup of them. There isnt any money, though Lamerne expected thered be oodles of it. She claims Morton must have squandered the fortune he inherited, but she cant offer any possible ways for him to have done so. He wasnt a gambler. From her description of him, it certainly doesnt sound as though he had a secret harem stashed away anyplace. Andshed be the first one to say he didnt throw his money away on cars.”
“Kula Hill?”
Kay nodded. “Lamerne pretty much admits her sister had a champagne appetite, and was the one who picked out their mansionalso her fancy big Mercury. But Lamerne assumed Morton was pulling down plenty as a company executive. In any event, there isnt any money left, and shes mad as hell because there isnt any.”
“So whats she going to do?”
“I think she figures theres some way to salvage something. Her fathers coming over. Hell be here tomorrow morning. Hes some kind of financial consultant, and Lamernes convinced he can do something, though I cant see what it could be.”
“Does she know OHearne?”
“She never heard of him. Her sister wrote only sporadically and never mentioned him. Lamerne does say Charlotte had an eye for the men. She insists Morton was just a cipher, and she figures Charlotte was justified in seeking satisfaction elsewhere. Of course, since Lamerne now knows Morton died broke, shes especially bitter about him.”
“So the afternoon was pretty much zilch?”
Kay looked thoughtful, tilted her head and repeated, “The afternoon was pretty much zilch…except for something?”
“Something? What something?”
Kays eyes had slipped out of focus, then refocused on Sids face. She smiled, and said, “I wish I knew, but there was something.”
Sid shook his head.
***
The afternoon wore on. Sid had two clients who filled in the last two hours of the day. Kay had a crowded in-basket to take care of. It was almost four-thirty before she made her final decision regarding the last piece of paper. Taking off her reading glasses and pushing back from the desk, she began to give thought to supper. Ordinarily considering meal preparation a chance to relax from office work, today the prospect of preparing dinner was uninviting. The thought of a restaurant meal as an alternative was equally uninspiring. The phone interrupted her thoughts.
“Hi, Kay. Its Corky. Howd you do with the witch and the trolls?”
“You skunk! You didnt have to go back to the station. You abandoned me to those piranhas.”
A chuckle answered her, then Corky said, “How about if I make it up to you? Alan wants to experiment on a recipe of chicken, shrimp and snow peas. Hes looking for guests to try it out on, and I suggested you and Sid as guinea pigs.”
Kay smiled into the phone, picturing Corkys half haole, half Japanese husband busily preparing a complex dish while at the same time tending their active two-year old son. “Where does Alan find time for all this?” Kay asked.“Has he given up his electrical business?”
“No way,” Corky answered. “Unless he has something big on, he takes Juni along to the shop. Alans the most devoted mother you could ask for. Well? How about it? Can you and Sid make it? Ill even sweeten the pot by guaranteeing some interesting twists and turns in the Hawaiian Harvest saga.”
The last statement piqued Kays curiosity, but she knew Corky would want to save the news until after they had done justice to the meal and were sitting relaxed over their after-dinner coffee.
“O.K. Ill ask Sid if he has anything else on, but I think thatll just be a formality. Assume well be there unless I call right back.”
“Great! Come out right after work. Thatll save you a trip home, and will give you plenty of time to regale me with your interview with the Wicked Witch of the West.”
Chapter 7
Juni was an incredible talker and had been, even before the age of a year. Kay understood only about one out of three words, but Alan happily supplied translations. The first hour of the visit was spent in admiring the toys Juni brought out from his bedroom, one by one, for Auntie Kay and Uncle Sids edification. Each of the toys showed indications of either having been constructed in an electrical shop or supplemented by some nut or bolt or wire from the same source.
Juniors father grinned at his offsprings delight in his accumulation. “Hes a born electrician,” Alan said proudly, standing in the kitchen doorway, apron on, bowl and spoon in hand.
Corky shook her head as she brought in a beer for Sid and a glass of red wine for Kay. “I was convinced Juni would be sticking that kind of stuff up his nose or in his ear, but he just likes to take it apart and to work at putting it back together. The worst hes done so far is to try to plug Johns tail into an electric outlet.”
John was the Hondas white cat, full brother to the youngest of Sid and Kays felines. At the moment, hed occupied a chair Corky was about to flop in. Without looking, she felt behind her to find the cat, picked him up and sat down to observe her tireless son coming out of his bedroom with something looking like a cross between a miniature Eiffel Tower and lawnmower. Uncle Sid was the recipient of this n
ew toy. The presentation was accompanied by a running commentary, apparently describing the function of the strange mass of wheels, diodes and number-twelve wire.
Alan came into the front room, saying, “Ill rescue you. Its time for Junis evening meal. Once he has it down him, hell get sleepy fast, then well move on to Dads recipe.”
Corky explained, as father and son went off to the kitchen, “Alans father sent him the recipe from his restaurant in Orlando. He told Alan its a big hit with his customers, which is why Alans so eager to try it out.”
The talk soon shifted to the current homicide case.
“Have you heard anything from the Demoses?”
“Theyre due in, first thing in the morning. Hank has me assigned to interview them.
Would either of you care to go along? I know its not kosher, but Hank wont mind as long as youre willing to share on anything coming up. Frankly, and confidentially, Emil wont be at all sad to see you pin the tail on some other donkey besides your own. Im sure hes already convinced OHearne didnt do it.”
Sid laughed at the expression, “The county prosecutor has come to the right place, if thats how he feels. Kay is only too happy to do tail-pinning. Im sure shell go along.”
Kay nodded but seemed to be thinking about something else. “How long was Morton Dyers car at the airport, Corky?”
The change of topic took Corky by surprise. “Hell! I dont know. I can check it out easy enough, though. Why do you want to know?”
“It was covered with dirt. Looked like it had been there for ages.”
Corky grinned. “Yeah. I saw it. Ill bet the witch bitched like hell about it. Probably wanted to sue the airport.”
Kay gave an answering grin. “Thats not so far off.” Her expression changed, as she asked,“Could anyone else have used the car while he was on the mainland?”
Corky and Sid both seemed puzzled at the question. Corkys comment was, “I cant imagine who it would have been, if anyone did. Sure as hell, Charlotte Dyer never used it. From what weve heard about her, she wouldnt have been seen dead in anything less extravagant than her fancy Mercury.”
The Yoshinobu Mysteries: Volume 2 Page 55