Sid nodded. “It doesnt take much ice and snow to convince me Hawaii has it all over the mainland.”
***
Qual was waiting for them when they got to work the following morning. “Half of Napuas looking for you two,” he said.
“Dont I know,” Kay answered, as Sid went off to his office to check his in-basket. “We listened to all the messages on our machine while we were eating breakfast. John Beaudoin called twice, which about spoiled my breakfast. Ill be glad to get shed of him. Lamerne called once. I suppose I should be glad her two monsters didnt call too. Hearing them in the background was bad enough. Corky called and sounds all excited. She says shes got a lot of info and wants to trade. Hank called. Joe called. My mother called. Lets see who else there was.”
“Most of those called here too. But I also heard from an FBI agent in Denver.
“What did she have to say?”
“About what wed expected. As far as shes concerned, Mortons free to come to Hawaii, but she has to get final approval from the district supervisor. Shell be calling back. And there was another call for you folks. From Morton Dyer.”
Kay suddenly looked concerned. “Did he say why he wanted to talk to us?”
Qual grinned. “Relax. He just wanted to tell you hell be in on the first plane in the morning, so I guess the agents supervisor gave his approval.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes, and this one sounds important. A Federal Aeronautics Administration official is coming over from Oahu this morning to see you and Sid. Better keep some time open for him.”
“I know it has to do with Flight 212, but do you have any idea exactly what?”
“My impression was he thinks you know a lot more about the flight than you actually do. Your discovering Morton Dyer wasnt on it impressed him, I guess. On the other hand, he may just be using this as an excuse to spend a morning away from his desk. Ive alerted Leilani, and shell send him right in when he gets here.”
“Phew! Sounds like Ive got a busy morning ahead of me. Any other calls?”
Qual shook his head. The phone rang. “Want to bet its for you?”
“No bets,” Kay said with a smile.
“Its Corky,” Qual said, handing her the phone.
“Hi, Corky.”
“Hey! Whats all the dark, deep secret? You and Sid disappearing like that, on a trip no one there will even hint about, is right out of a grade-B movie.”
“The secret is now out in the open. Want to hear it?”
“I sure do. And Ill even trade a half-dozen of mine for it.”
“We were on the mainland interviewing Morton Dyer?”
“Holy cow!”
“And I wont make you try to guess where he was at four A. M. on New Years Day.”
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. A chastened Corky finally said. “No way can I match that.”
“Maybe you can. Any chance I can sit down with you this afternoon and go over yournotes. Between what weve got and what you folks have gathered, maybe we can settle the DyerOHearne killings. And there are a couple of things you could do for me.”
“Fire away,” Corky said, still sounding chastened.
Kay quickly explained what she was looking for.
“As soon as Hank hears about this,” Corky said after making a note of Kays requests, “hell be absolutely convinced the case is already settled.”
“I can see where he might think Dyer killed his wife, but surely he wouldnt suspect Dyer of coming back and killing OHearne too?
“Oh, yeah! I can hear Hank now.” Corkys voice deepened into a remarkably good imitation of Hanks bass. “Dyer heard there was some hanky-panky going on, flew back, and killed his old lady. Then he came back later and finished the job.”
Kay sounded amused when she said, “In which case, wed better have Hank in on our conference.”
***
Sid took time out from working his way though the papers in his in-basket to join Kay in her office when the FAA official arrived. Glenn Haverford turned out to be more than just a bureaucrat making the most of a chance to get away from Honolulu. The small, neatly dressed Haverford, who quickly moved on to a first name basis with the attorneys, was genuinely interested in coming up with the reason for the Flight 212 disaster.
Kay quickly explained how the dirty car with the clean windshield had been the chief clue leading to Morton Dyer. Glenn was clearly impressed.
An amused Sid remarked, “Kay sees the world differently than ordinary mortals. Everything is a potential clue as far as shes concerned.”
“If thats the case, then maybe some of this will look different to you than it does to me.” So saying, Glenn pulled two copies of an official looking report out of his briefcase and handed them to the attorneys. “This is what we have so far. Its confidential, of course, but Im sure youll respect the confidentiality.”
At first glance, the reports seemed voluminous. On second glance, it was evident much of the material was simply a detailed description of flight conditions at the time of the flight, interviews with tower, luggage and tarmac personnel, and a technical analysis from the airplane manufacturer reinforcing the view the downing of the plane had to be due to something other than a mechanical defect.
Kay adjusted her reading glasses and started through the report. Sid flipped quickly through the pages, asking, “Has anything been done to recover the wreckage?”
Glenn nodded. “Theyre using a special submarine to locate it, and just this morning we got a report they think theyve found it. If they have, and if the weather holds, they should have it up in a few days. What theyve found is sitting on a comparatively high ridge, and should be fairly easy to recover.”
Kay looked up from the papers and asked,“Was all the luggage X-rayed?”
Glenn nodded emphatically. “Yes, Im almost positive it was. Wed been checking randomly at various terminals, and San Francisco had the best record of any of them. In fact, inspectors had been there the same day and gave them a clean bill of health.”
“Could anything have been put on the plane at the last minute?”
“We checked that. Everything was normal. Nothing and no one went down the passageway after the last passenger was loaded. The ticket taker was at the airplane door when the flight attendant closed it. It wasnt opened again after that.”
“And this is the complete report of what happened just before the plane taxied out for takeoff?” Kay turned the report around and pushed it across the desk to Glenn.
Glenn nodded.
“Is there any chance the ticket taker passed something to the flight attendant at the last minute?”
“We figured he was the weak link and checked him out every which way. Hes clean. Been with the airlines for over twenty years. Family man. No record. No gambling debts or anything like that. Certainly no underworld connections or contact with terrorists. Believe me, we were thorough.”
Kay had visions of a phone tap, but decided not to explore too far into the FAAs methods.
At the end of the interview, Kay thought of herself as grasping at straws in order to give Glenn the feeling his trip over had not been entirely wasted. “I think theres something there,” she indicated the reports he was returning to his brief case. “But I cant quite decide what it is. Maybe this afternoon, when Ive had a chance to talk to our local police about Morton Dyers case well come up with something more substantial.”
Sid grinned. “Kays the original, eternal optimist,” he said.
Glenn returned the grin and, standing up and shaking hands with the attorneys, replied. “An optimist can sometimes be right, you know.”
This time, the optimist was right.
***
Sid had been appalled at how the work had piled up in his absence. With even more coming in during the brief interview with the FAA official, Sid decided not to go along with Kay to the station. Kays in-basket seemed as full as his, but she was determined to take time out for what she considered to
be a crucial meeting. In the meantime, she spent a tedious fifteen minutes severing the firms connection with John Beaudoin. Hanging up the phone after the harangue, she decided Morton Dyers coming encounter with Hank would be childs play, compared to what he would face at his inevitable meeting with his former father-in-law.
Kay arrived at Hanks office to find him looking grim. His first words were, “If I didnt know you so well, Kay, Id swear you were pulling Corkys legand mine. How did Dyer fake being on the plane? Howd he get here? Where was he when OHearne was killed? Whendid…”
The torrent of questions was interrupted by Corky coming in with a briefcase tucked under one arm and two cups in her hands. “I brought you some decaf, Kay. Were getting really withit around here these days. Next thing you know well have tea available.” She sat down, looked back and forth at the two of them, then asked,“You folks got it all settled?”
Hank grunted. “We dont have anything settled, and Ive got a lot of questions in need of answering.”
“Fair enough,” Corky said, “Maybe well have the answers after weve looked through all this.” She pulled a sheaf of papers out of her briefcase. Kay emptied out the large manila envelope shed brought along. Soon the three of them were going over the material.
“Lets get the phone calls out of the way first, Corky.
“What phone calls? Hank asked.
“Why the ones Kay wanted me to check on.”
Hank looked bewildered.
“First,” Corky said, referring her note pad, “Mrs. Dyer made no phone calls the night of her murder.”
“Great,” Kay said. “It all fits. I had afeeling OHearne was lying about her having called him. My guess is they were planning on getting together, and the meeting had been arranged long beforehand. This was no sudden decision on her part to invite him over.”
“We didnt do well on the second call, Im afraid, Kay.”
Kays face showed her disappointment. “You mean they couldnt pinpoint the origin of the call?”
Corky looked up from her notes, shook her head then described what they had discovered about the phone and the unauthorized use of its identification number.
“Ive heard of such things before,” Kay said, “but arent the major users of those clones drug dealers and organized crime syndicates?”
“Thats all I need,” Hank commented, dismally, “the Mafia!”
“The phone call is the key to all this. No question about it. What about a voice print?”
“Sorry. That didnt work out either. We cant get a voice print from the tape because the reception was so bad and whoever made it muffled their voice.”
“What made you think in the first place the call was from a cellular phone?” Hank asked.
“Kay thought it might have been from a car both Dyer and OHearne saw in the vicinity of the Dyer house the night of the murder.”
“Well, scratch that,” Kay said, thoughtfully“Maybe theres a way to get to the answer without a trace on the call, though.” Avoiding the questioning looks in her companions eyes, she went on, “Lets move on to what else we have.” When they did so, Kay was fascinated by the discoveries involving the dynamite, but the interview with the Fat Priest brought her straight out of her chair.
Not trying to suppress the excitement in her voice, she asked,“Is he really reliable?”
Hank grinned. “He doesnt have much choice. Larceny has so much on him, he has to be reliable. Believe me, the last thing in the world the Fat Priest would want to do would be to spend several nights trying to sleep on a jail-house cot.”
“Do you have the original report on OHearne? The one you made out after interrogating him?”
Corky leafed through her file and pulled out two sheets of typed, single-space sheets of the standard arrest form. “This what you want?” she asked, handing it to Kay.
A moments scanning produced what Kay was looking for.
Hank and Corky were watching her closely. “What is it?” Hank asked.
“OHearne was a professional bomber. You found out he was. The FAA report describes all the vehicles on the tarmac before Flight 212 taxied off. One of them was a Nationwide Freight jitney. OHearne worked for Nationwide in Honolulu, and I remember his telling me he used to work for the same company in San Francisco. So he was familiar with their operation there. The clincher is he was in San Francisco when the flight took off, which fits with his lying about that phone call from Mrs. Dyer. He didnt need a phone call from her. It was just his explanation for showing up at four in the morning. He was at the airport in San Francisco at midnight planting a bomb on Flight 212.”
“But how did he get a bomb on the plane?”
“I dont know, but my guess is when they get the wreckage up well be able to tell then. Mind if I use your phone to pass all this along to the FAA?”
“Help yourself,” Hank answered. “Then do the same for the killings we had here.”
Kay looked over her reading glasses at him and said, “You know, Hank, I may be able to do just that. All it should take are three phone calls: one to the local Toyota dealer; one to the foreman in charge of Hawaiian Harvests field up on the Ridge; and one to Richard Hanamoto.
Corky and Hank looked at each other and simultaneously shrugged their shoulders.
Chapter 21
Three phone calls later found Hank checking out his service revolver, calling for a patrol car to stand by, and then asking Kay if she wanted to go along.
“You bet. Ive come this far, and there are still a lot of questions to be answered.”
The three of them piled into Hanks car, and the waiting patrol car started to follow them, almost losing them as Hank screeched away from the curb. As he did so, he checked his watch. “Factorys closed by now. Well go right to the apartment.”
Climbing the stairs, the three of them, with the two patrolmen close on their heels, found a crowd waiting on the second floor landing. A small, nervous man stepped forward and proclaimed himself the owner and manager of the building. “I never thought you people would get here so fast?”
“Whats happened?” Hank asked.
“What do you mean, „Whats happened? I told the police at the station. Dont you know? Someone fired a gun in there.” He pointed toward the apartment. I knocked, but no one answered, and the doors locked.”
“Dont you have a master?”
The manager looked pained. “I…I cant find it,” he answered, as Hank pounded loudly on the door while the two patrolmen stood nearby with drawn guns.
“O.K.” Hank said, motioning to the small crowd and including Corky and Kay in his gesture. “Move down to the end of the hall! Were going to have to go in the hard way.” He nodded to the two patrolmen who simultaneously hit the door with their shoulders. The manager, now standing well back from the attack, looked more pained than ever. Three attempts were needed before the door ripped off at the hinge side. One of the patrolmen, gun still drawn, kicked the splinters aside. Corky and Kay rushed to follow Hank and the patrolmen into the apartment. The curious crowd, led by the manager, tried to follow but were forced by the police to just hover in the doorway.
The first impression of the apartment was how nothing extraordinary had happened, the only strange element being a camcorder, set up on a tripod in the middle of the room, and still grinding away. The second impression, revealing Winston Hanamotos body behind the coffee table, indicated much had happened.
***
Since there was no question but it had been a suicide, Hank, Corky and Kay left the apartment as soon as the scene-of-crime crew and Clyde Victorine arrived. All were anxious to see the contents of the tape Corky had slipped into a plastic bag and was now carefully clutching to her chest. If anything, Hank was driving back even faster than on the trip out. Strapped in tight, and holding on to the dashboard grip with her free hand, Corky decided shed feel better if she didnt watch the road and the cars ahead taking evasive action.
Turning to Kay, who had also securely strapped herself down in h
er seat, Corky said, “I know what made you call the foreman to ask about the window latch in the shack. Winstons one minute visit to it was what tipped you off. I should have realized what it meant myself. He wouldnt have picked up the dynamite then, even if it had been available. He just wanted to simplify his getting to it later without having to break in. But what tipped you off to the Toyota dealer?”
“You did. Remember your report from Winstons car-stall neighbor. He said he was always being crowded by Winstons car, including on New Years morning. Well, Ive yet to see a double parking space where even a careless driver would consistently hog both spaces with a Toyota Echo. The only conclusion I could come to was the Toyota was newsomething Id already learned from my interview with Dobey Miranda. Except I didnt realize then just how new it was. When I asked the Toyota dealer if he had any used, large, luxury cars for sale and he told me about the „98 Chrysler New Yorkerwhite, with tinted windowshed gotten in trade two days after New Years, I was pretty sure I was on the right track. When he went on to tell me it was in mint condition, a one-owner car, driven by a Hawaiian Harvest executivewhat little doubt there was left in my mind was banished forever.”
Hank slammed the car to a stop in front of the station and all three piled out. Corky, still clutching the tape, asked Kay, “But what made you call Richard Hanamoto?”
Kay laughed as they stormed into the station and headed for the lab where there was a TV and a VCR. Striding along beside Corky, with Hank leading the way, she said, “You were responsible for the call, Corky. Only it wasnt in your report. Remember what you said about how Richard and Winston reacted when Morton Dyers safe turned out to be empty? It was pretty obvious Winston was hurting for money, and the prospect of Hawaiian Harvest going under was driving him to the wall.”
Hank was busy putting the tape into the VCR and turning down the lab lights as Kay finished.
“Richard not only confirmed what you reported about company finances, but told me HH had been drifting onto the rocks as early as the middle of last year. To top it off, the company filed for bankruptcy this afternoon. Even Morton Dyers returned million couldnt save it. I already knew Winston was a stamp addict with an expensive appetite for those little pieces of paper. So it wasnt hard to imagine how he would have reacted when he found out Hawaiian Harvest and his job were doomed. I guess stamp collecting is something you cant quit cold-turkey. He had to have money, lots of it, to make up for the job he knew he wouldnt have for long. And it so happened there was one place he was almost sure he would find all the money he neededthe safe in Morton Dyers house.”
The Yoshinobu Mysteries: Volume 2 Page 70