“Why, yes. They were thick ones, at that. I don’t imagine he could see well without them. He was a really strange character. I saw him out in the yard sometimes lifting weights. I guess they call it ‘pumping iron’ these days. The way he smoked and coughed, I was surprised to see he could even get them off the ground. Not that he did much more than that. I know I could have done better myself. I guess he didn’t have much else to do. He used to spend a lot of time over there doing mostly nothing but sit on the back steps smoking.”
“Do you know if he knew the Jacintos? Did he ever go over there?”
“Know who?”
Laura raised her voice. “The Jacintos. The Filipino brothers who live next door.”
“Oh. Not so far as I know. I really didn’t see much of him. He could have gone in and out of there a dozen times, and I wouldn’t have noticed. When I’m outside, I’m generally in the backyard. I can’t see too much of what goes on out front from there.”
“Do you know if he was around the day of the accident?”
McMahon shook his head. “The last I saw of him was the day the young Hawaiian woman threw him out. It was maybe a couple of months ago. It was quite a scene.”
Laura and Kay both looked quizzical. Needing no prompting, McMahon went on to describe what had occurred. “I could hear them quarreling. It must have been pretty loud, because my hearing isn’t what it used to be. He came flying out of the house. I wouldn’t be surprised but someone helped him along the way. I saw her, the daughter, stick her head out the door, and then she threw his bars and weights out after him. He was lucky he didn’t get hit.” McMahon chuckled as he recalled the event.
“The last thing she said to him was, ‘No mo pookah fo’ you. Evah!’ ‘Puka’ means ‘hole,’ you know.”
Laura nodded. “Yes, I know.”
***
“I didn’t sleep all night,” Kimo said as they sat waiting for the judge to enter the court.
“I’ll let you have one of my Benadryls for tonight,” Laura told him. “That’s all that got me through the night.”
Kay smiled. “Laura, you’re supposed to be boosting your client’s morale. You should be exuding confidence instead of telling Kimo you couldn’t have slept without a sedative.”
Kimo said, “That’s OK, Kay. It actually makes me feel better to know someone’s so concerned.”
At that moment, the jurors filed in. “I should have known,” Laura said, groaning aloud on seeing the woman with the cast occupying the foreman’s seat. Kay was about to ask her what she was referring to, when Judge Wong entered and everyone stood. The trial was officially under way.
The first part went quickly and was mainly a re-enactment of the earlier trial.
Emil’s opening statement, following Judge Wong’s instructions to the jury, was even briefer than it had been the first time. As expected, his emphasis was that Kimo, while intoxicated, had been responsible for the death of Lyndon Stanner.
Laura’s opening statement still centered on the question of Kimo’s blood level. Qual, Kay and Sid had all agreed since it could not be proven Stanner had run into the pickup, necessarily the emphasis would have to be on the adequacy of the blood test in determining Kimo’s ability to drive. One difference in her cross-examination of the two policeman had to do with their determination Kimo was intoxicated. Another probed their recollection of the neighborhood when they arrived at the scene of the accident.
To the first of the patrolmen, she asked, “How long after the call about the accident was it before you arrived at the scene?”
“The call arrived at the station at twelve-twenty-seven. We arrived at twelve-thirty-four.”
“At what time did the accident occur, according to the driver?”
“Shortly after midnight.”
“So from the time of the accident to the time of your arrival, approximately thirty minutes elapsed. Is that correct?”
“Yes, if the driver was reporting the time of the accident correctly.”
“Is it possible he had something intoxicating to drink following the accident and prior to your arrival?”
“Sure. It’s possible.”
“Did you ask him if he did drink anything after the accident?”
“No, I didn’t.”
Laura changed directions. “Did you check the neighboring houses for witnesses?”
“No. We did stop by Mr. Merritt’s house to pick up the driver, and Mr. McMahon who lives nearby came out to talk to us.”
“Why didn’t you check the other houses?”
“It was after midnight, and the lights were out in all the other houses. It didn’t make much sense to go waking people up. If they hadn’t heard the noise already, it wasn’t too likely they would have known anything about what happened.”
“Could you tell me how far the accident was from the nearest house?”
“About fifty or sixty feet.”
“From the house with the fighting cocks?”
“Yes. It was the closest one.”
“How far from the gate of the house?”
“Maybe twenty feet. We could give you exact figures, since we measured the site from the curb.”
“No, that’s close enough. Do you remember if the gate was open or closed?”
“Sorry. I just couldn’t say.”
“Thank you. No further questions.”
Emil waived re-examination.
The second patrolman gave much the same answers. A difference did appear at the end, in answer to the last question.
“I’m sure the gate was closed. I flashed my light in that direction because the roosters were making so much noise. They sounded so loud and so close, I kind of expected to see some of them coming out on the street. That’s when I saw the gate was shut.”
Laura was pleased at the answer to her question. Emil wondered why the question had been asked in the first place.
***
Sid joined Kay and Laura during the luncheon recess, which followed the testimony of the sergeant who had administered the blood test.
“Is your expert here, yet?” Sid asked Laura.
“He’s coming in on the eleven-thirty flight. I had a long talk with him over the phone. He talked to Cal and seems up on the latest. As soon as I get through cross-examining Victorine, who’s Emil’s last witness, I’m going to run Professor Sukuma in. It fits into his schedule, and he’ll probably be most effective then. There should be plenty of time left to run Fred Merritt back again before adjournment. That will keep Judge Wong happy.”
“Something you should know about Clyde Victorine,” Kay said, “is he enjoys testifying. Give him a chance to ham, and he’ll be cooperative.”
“That’s nice to know. I’ll do my best.”
“Does Sukuma have anything to add to what he told us last time?” Kay asked.
“No. Since he knows there’s a fatality involved, he’s not quite as eager to insist the reading is really as marginal as he implied before.”
“Will he answer your questions any differently?” Sid asked.
“No. I just generally feel his tone is not going to be quite so positive.”
“What did Cal say about your notion Kimo’s blood alcohol level might possibly have been below 0.08 at the time of the accident?”
Laura described her first conversation with Cal in some detail and the follow-up after she had supplied him with the information he wanted. “The gist of what he said is metabolism varies from person to person, but it still seems unlikely five beers would have raised Kimo’s blood alcohol level so high.”
“The same thing bothers me as bothers him,” Kay said after Laura had finished, “especially since Leilani says he stuffed himself on one of her gigantic ham and cabbage meals before he left home.”
“Hell,” Sid said, “maybe he’s lying. I sure wouldn’t put it past those buddies of his to be lying too. They could have each drunk a case of beer rather than a six-pack.”
Kay gave the remark some thoug
ht. “I’m going to go back to the office and listen to the tape you made of Roger and Kevin. I just have a feeling there’s something we’ve overlooked there. Do you have any plans for the Jacintos?”
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you and Sid. I’m sorry Qual had to go to Honolulu, because I would have liked to have had his opinion too. I’m thinking of asking Judge Wong to declare them to be hostile witnesses.”
“That can be tricky,” Sid commented.
“From what Hank said,” Kay interjected, “they aren’t about to admit to anything. They’ll just insist they slept through the knocking and that they know nothing about the gate, opened or closed. They’ll insist one of them got up to shishi, if you bring up the lights at one-thirty. That’s assuming they don’t deny that altogether too.”
“I know. I’m going to get Victorine to testify to the possible knife wound. I know the connection will seem pretty tenuous, but I’m going to dangle it in front of the jury.”
“Don’t do too much dangling,” Sid warned. “Emil will object the Jacintos aren’t on trial. He’ll be on sound ground, since you have no evidence to show they even knew Stanner, much less that he was at there house the night of the accident. You sure as hell don’t have anything but a vivid imagination to connect them to a stab wound, which may not even be a stab wound.”
Kay glared at Sid but said nothing.
Laura shook her head in disappointment. “I only wish we’d had more time. We could have taken a photo of Lyndon Stanner around to all the taverns. There’s bound to be someone who saw him.”
Sid laughed. “Saw him talking to Wilson, you mean. You’re expecting a miracle.”
“Right now, I feel like I need a miracle.”
Chapter 20
“We’ve got Simplicio Cheng in the interrogation room,” Hank said to Corky over the interoffice phone. “Bring your note pad and tape recorder.”
“Simplicio Cheng? Who the hell is that?”
“You know him. He’s that filthy rich Oahu gambler. The one Lieutenant Freitas picked up two years ago for ticket scalping at the King Kamehameha Tourney.”
“Oh. You mean the Fat Priest. I never even knew his real name, or I forgot it if I ever did know it. I’ll bet you he doesn’t recognize it either. Everyone I know who knows him calls him the Fat Priest.”
“Don’t you ever look at the records? Do you think his mug shot has ‘Fat Priest’ written under it? And do you think I’d offend him if I called him ‘Simplicio?’”
“I imagine you would. I know I’d rather be called a Fat Priest.”
When Hank met Corky outside the interrogation room, they both looked through the murky one-way mirror at the occupant who was sitting on and overflowing one of the chairs. His face consisted of two eyes, a nose and a mouth set close together in a round circle of flesh. The almost eyebrow-less eyes were black pea-sized points hiding in two slits in the broad face.
His nose lacked a bridge, turning up at the tip to expose even more closely spaced replicas of the eyes. His ears were small and set close to his head. The dainty, cupid’s bow lips were the lowest distinguishable features above a chin lost in the mass of flesh. Pendulous rolls of fat rested on his enormous chest. A few wisps of hair lay glossy and flat on his symmetrically circular head. The Fat Priest was completely relaxed and seemed incapable of being otherwise.
“‘Fat’ I can understand, but why ‘Priest?’” Hank asked Corky before they stepped into the interrogation room.
“He was a priest back in the Philippines, at least, that’s what the local Filipinos say. He was cashiered or detogaed, or whatever it is the Church does to priests who don’t toe the line. Then he married a Filipina who was an American citizen and came over on the strength of that. You probably know he got himself naturalized. That’s why we haven’t been able to send him back.”
“It’s just as well,” commented Hank. “I haven’t had much contact with him, but the larceny division has. Freitas claims Simplicio sings like a drunken mynah bird whenever they call on him for information. I have the feeling they’ve been easy on him over there in exchange for some of his songs. He hasn’t served any time.”
“Hey. I almost forgot to ask. What are we doing with him?”
“Favor to the Honolulu PD. One of those Filipino gangs, the Torches, is involved in a killing.” Hank reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Honolulu sent over the names of their two prime suspects. They don’t know which one to move in on, but they think Cheng might be able to finger one or the other of them. Both of the suspects claim they don’t even know the victim. So if we can make any kind of a connection for the HPD, they’ll be much appreciative, and I want to keep them appreciative.”
The Fat Priest smiled at their entrance. “Happy to see you, Lieutenant, and it’s Ms., or perhaps I should say Sergeant, Medeiros.” He lifted a surprisingly small hand hanging from a delicate wrist and ostentatiously shook hands with each of them.
From Hank’s viewpoint, the interview went well. The Fat Priest readily admitted knowing the major actors in the Honolulu drama. That the Honolulu Police Department would regard the interview to be of value was something else again. Now knowing the two suspects and the victim had once been informal partners owning a massage parlor in the city was progress, it still did not help much in narrowing down the perpetrator.
Corky closed her notebook, and Hank stood up, saying. “I hope you’re keeping out of trouble these days?”
“Oh, most certainly. Lieutenant Freitas is pleased at my new occupation.”
“What’s that?”
“Raising fighting cocks. I used to be involved as a boy in the Philippines. It’s an exciting sport. I thought perhaps I might devote my declining years to a somewhat more sedentary aspect of that activity.”
“Fighting cocks! Hell! You damn well know that’s illegal?”
“I’m not using them for fighting, Lieutenant. You weren’t listening. I raise them. That’s a perfectly legitimate enterprise.”
“Well, good luck, and stay out of trouble.”
Corky stood up, and then a thought struck her. “Do you know the Jacinto brothers?”
“Why, yes. Very well indeed. What did you want to know about them? I’m sure I can be of help.”
Corky sat back down, opened her pad, and began to ask questions. Hank was intrigued with the answers and resumed his chair as well.
The Fat Priest’s song was both entertaining and informative.
***
Laura could not believe how fast the time had gone. She hoped it had passed as quickly for Judge Wong. She was also relieved to have Kay returning to her seat beside Kimo before the next witness came to the stand.
Clyde Victorine, who looked startlingly like Lieutenant Hank DeMello, was clear and concise—an unusual combination of qualities in a pathologist.
Emil led him carefully through the identification of the body, the estimated time of death, the possible cause of death and the evidence indicating the body was in fact the person struck by the pickup. Laura raised an objection to the last answer, stating the evidence merely demonstrated the victim and the vehicle had been in contact with each other, and how it might have been a case of the person striking the vehicle rather than the other way around. Judge Wong sustained her objection.
Victorine’s estimate of the time clearly overlapped with the time of the accident. As for the possible cause, he indicated the condition of the corpse made it impossible to single out any single cause. He was certain one or another of the many visible injuries could have ended the victim’s life.
Kay was pleased to see how Laura handled the witness. She managed to give the impression she thought highly of Victorine’s professional ability. She did so without making an open saying so. Once having shown her confidence in his competence, she asked him if there was evidence the victim was intoxicated at the time of death.
“Yes. He most certainly was.”
“How did you determine this?
“We’ll come back to that in a moment, but first, could you explain how you could determine the blood alcohol level from a corpse in the condition you described?”
“It would have been impossible. The body, as I indicated, was in an advanced state of putrefaction. The blood alcohol level was determined from the blood at the scene of the accident.”
“Wasn’t the blood badly diluted by the rain?”
“Yes, but we know approximately the percent of solid particles there are ordinarily in blood. So it was a simple matter to determine the ratio of blood to water in the samples gathered by the police. From there, we merely had to estimate the amount of alcohol present in the percentage of the sample which was blood.”
“That amount, according to your estimates, was 0.30 percent?”
“At least. Five separate samples had 0.30 percent as a minimum.
“To come back to that point. What is the condition of a person having that percentage of alcohol in the blood?”
“Intoxicated. Quite intoxicated. Probably incoherent. Generally unaware of his surroundings.”
“Would he have been capable of walking unknowingly into a solid object such as a wall or a pickup truck?”
“Objection, your honor.”
Before Emil could provide the basis for his objection, Judge Wong said to Laura, with what she thought was the barest hint of a smile on his face, “Counselor, I believe you can rephrase the question in a somewhat less pointed manner.”
“I will be happy to, your honor,” Laura said and turned back to the witness. “Would he have been capable of walking unknowingly into a solid object such as a wall or something similar?”
Victorine broke into a broad smile. “Definitely. Whether or not the wall was moving would have made no difference to him, I’m sure.” A soft ripple of appreciative laughter swept through the audience.
Laura hoped she would do as well with the knife wound.
“In your earlier testimony, I believe you said the injuries were massive and they were compatible with damage resulting from being struck and run over by a heavy vehicle. Is that an accurate summary of what you testified to?”
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