“Your name is Caine,” Ed said. He had a deep rumbling voice that matched his bulk, a voice that carried a kind of natural authority. Ed was used to talking and having other people listen. I guessed his age at around fifty, but he had seen a lot of sun and a lot of living and he looked at least a decade older. “You know the Bible?”
I nodded, understanding the reference.
“Cain was a farmer. He tilled the soil until his brother tried to take it away from him. Do you know this passage?”
“I’ve read it.”
“Ah, a reader. Then you know that Cain killed his brother, Abel. He was cursed by God to wander the earth forever. He was the man who was closest to the earth, and his punishment was never to have a home of his own. Is that you, Caine? Did you kill your brother? Is that why you’re cursed?”
“I never had a brother.”
“All men are brothers.”
I’d heard people talk about my name before, as if it had some significance. I was descended from Welsh-English stock who came to America in the late nineteenth century. The name had existed for as long as anyone in the family could remember. I was the last of the line. My parents were dead and I’d had no children. I glanced at Kimo. He was looking out the window.
“Kane,” Ed said. He pronounced it Kah-nay, accenting the first syllable. “That’s the Hawaiian language. Do you know what kane means?”
“It means ‘man,’” I said.
“You’re right. Kane was the basic man. Kind of like a Hawaiian Adam. Not all Caines are bad, you know. You are not an evil man. I can see that. You may have done bad things, but you’re not a bad man.”
“Thank you.”
“Kimo tells me you saved Kate Alapai. Is that right?”
“I tried. If I were faster or smarter I would have succeeded.”
“You sailed into a hurricane and took her away from an evil man.”
“I didn’t save her life.”
“You did everything you could. Kimo and I thought you should attend my sister’s memorial service.”
I looked at Kimo again. He did not look in my direction.
“Your sister.”
“Kimo is my best friend. He is also my cousin. His mother’s sister was my uncle’s sister on my mother’s side. We are not really related, but we’re close. My family name is Alapai. Do you know the significance of that?”
“No.”
“It is from Alapa. The Alapa Guard were King Kamehameha’s personal bodyguard. They were chosen from the largest and the most fierce warriors he could find. We three are direct descendants, some of the only ones left. What Kate lacked in big, she made up in fierce. She was a warrior, as you are a warrior. You would have been well matched.”
“She told you about me.”
Alapai nodded. “As did Kimo. He looked after Kate. We are a close family, and she spoke about the two of you. She thought you might have had a future, even though you disappointed her when you took off on your own. But even that she understood.”
Kimo shook his head. “I had less than five minutes to speak with her when Pele came up empty. She knew you had another agenda, and she told me she would have been disappointed if you’d done anything else.” I noticed that once he approved of me, Kimo’s pidgin disappeared.
Ed Alapai said, “Kimo says you have friends in high places. He received a visit from a very interesting gentleman. An admiral in the United States Navy.”
“He was accompanied by a very senior noncommissioned officer,” said Kimo. “A man you know.”
“Max.”
“Yes. Senior Chief Maximilian White. They both told me some things that helped your case.”
“My case.”
Kimo nodded. “The coast guard wanted to charge you with piracy. That’s still a capital offense. Then the alphabet soup agencies wanted to charge you with a variety of crimes that would have landed your ass in a federal penitentiary for the rest of your natural life. I wanted to hang you for murder, but I found myself at the back of the line. For a while.
“Your friends let me know some of the facts. I didn’t know everything Kate was working on. I was her supervisor and I didn’t know how deeply she was into this case, or the extent of the damage. She and Captain Yoshida knew things that they didn’t share. When they died, well, it just wasn’t there anymore.
“You helped put down one real bad man. We solved over thirty murders and missing persons. All little girls. The admiral told me some of the details. In the end it was decided that you saved the taxpayers the cost of a trial. It helped that the admiral spoke for you, though.”
“Is that an understatement?”
The big policeman nodded. “Yeah. That’s an understatement. But what helped you the most was the United States Attorney said you’d most likely walk if you went to trial. Did you know that Thompson tried to blackmail MacGruder?”
“He bragged about it.”
“That’s when your friend, the chief, got involved. He went to you and asked your help.” Kimo was silent for a moment. “You go back a long way.” It was a declaration. When I was silent he continued. “Back to Vietnam?”
“Yes.”
“Always a SEAL?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a real hard case, aren’t you?”
“Not anymore,” I said.
“Yeah, well, maybe you get over it.”
“I liked Kate.”
“Liked? She was in love with you, man. That’s why you’re here. You were someone she could trust. Do you know how rare that was for her?”
“And I couldn’t save her.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Caine,” said Alapai. “She knew the risks. You brought her back. She would have been lost from us forever.”
The truck bounced off the paved road onto a red dirt track across a field of grass. A small group of people were gathered in the field near the edge of a cliff. Beyond was the Pacific, its calm blue surface showing no trace of the storm. A warm, gentle breeze blew in from the sea, carrying the scent of salt and kiawe and the tangy smell of passion fruit.
The truck stopped near the other cars, a collection of ancient local transportation. We got out and walked toward the assembly of men and women and children. They looked like an extended family, and I realized that was exactly what they were. They were dressed in casual clothes, old shorts like Ed Alapai’s or lightweight trousers. Tees and short-sleeved shirts predominated. Mine was the only Hawaiian shirt, I wore the only shoes and I was the only haole, the only outsider.
The service was brief. Ed Alapai said a few words, and chanted an ancient chant that seemed to come directly from the days of King Kamehameha. He sang it first in English and then in Hawaiian. I remembered a few details about a tiger shark, resting without fear and a girl with flashing eyes and a restless, questing gaze. The girl was Mary MacGruder. She was Kate. She was all the little girls who’d been abused and then murdered. I didn’t retain any more of the chant. Tears stung my eyes. There was no tune, but Alapai’s passion made me feel his loss, and mine. For a short time we were all brothers and I was a part of the family.
Kimo had brought Kate’s ashes in a small box and when the breeze changed, sprinkled them from the top of the cliff where they scattered over the ocean. In a few moments the mortal remains of the woman who had briefly loved me were merged with the earth.
When all the others were gone Kimo Kahanamoku, Ed Alapai and I stood on the edge of the cliff. Bright clouds scudded across the horizon in neat formations with dark, flat bottoms and white, billowy tops. A lone albatross fluttered in from the open ocean, saw us standing near its nest and fled.
“Kate had something with her when the coast guard picked her up. Do you know anything about that?” Kimo watched the albatross attempt another landing. She seemed desperate to get to her nest, but she was not brave enough to challenge us. He smiled and walked away from the edge of the cliff.
“A briefcase.”
When we were a distance from her nest, the al
batross landed and scurried across the tall grass toward her chicks.
“It wasn’t Kate’s. Was it yours?”
“I guess so.”
“You guess so. Can you describe it?”
“Brown leather. Alligator.”
Kimo nodded. “Not crocodile?”
“That’s illegal.”
He smiled. “Alligator. Okay. You’re sure it’s yours.”
“Yes.”
“You left another briefcase at her apartment. That’s yours, too?”
I nodded.
“Yeah, it had your wallet in it. When we get back you can have them. Both of them.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. Call it whatever you want. When we get back you’re free to go.”
“No charges?”
“None. You did us some favors. Why bring up stuff that should remain buried?”
“You may come back.” Ed Alapai put his hand on my shoulder. “I live on Anahola Mountain. There is a heiau up there that needs attention. You can weed taro. Let your soul heal. It’s been wounded, same as you.” He pointed to my broken shoulder and the burns on my face and hands. “I know you will not stay forever, but you must rest awhile before you go on. A warrior must rest sometime.”
“I will come back,” I said. “After I take care of some business in Honolulu.”
He nodded. “The land is sacred and can heal. Even though a Cain is cursed and must wander the earth, you’re welcome on this land. You’re family now, a kane. You’re not cursed on this island. Give your mana to the land, and the land will make you strong again.” He embraced me. “I will be waiting.”
36
I parked my Jeep in the five-dollar lot near the taxi stand off Beretania. Taking my briefcase, I walked to the restaurant on River Street. It was late afternoon and the restaurant was nearly deserted. I took possession of a corner booth, ordered tea and waited. Chawlie wasn’t in, but I expected he’d show up soon enough.
Twenty minutes later the old man came in from his back room, blinking in the light like a displaced owl. He saw me at once and shuffled to my booth.
“You really are a barbarian now, John Caine,” Chawlie said, fingering his own chin whiskers.
“I got lazy in captivity.”
“You live dangerously,” he said, sliding into the seat across from me.
“No longer, Uncle,” I said. “I have a business proposition for you.”
Chawlie’s eyes narrowed. “No do business with you anymore. You die tomorrow, tonight, mebbe next week, I don’t know. You let people shoot you again, sink your boat, burn you up. What next? You very bad risk. You are very unstable man. Not good for business partner.”
“I’m alive. Thompson is not.”
“You kill him?”
“Yes.”
He considered it. “Still. No deal. You find someone not as old as you, he can take you easy.”
“I know some that probably could,” I said. “This is different.” I opened my briefcase and removed a handful of the little manila envelopes. His eyes widened when I shook their contents onto the table. The glistening stones lay in a pile, quickly swept together, hidden by deft hands while his eyes searched the room for witnesses to my foolish act.
“These real?”
“Yes.”
“Most of these two carats!”
“If you say so,” I said. “I’m no expert on diamonds.”
He picked one and held it to the light. A kaleidoscope of color burst from the stone. In spite of himself, Chawlie smiled.
“Where you get this?”
“Thompson. I stole them.”
His smile widened. “You steal these before you kill him or after?”
“Before.”
“He know you did it?”
“Yes.”
“You good man, John Caine! You be my partner!”
“How much are these worth?”
He moved the diamonds around the tabletop, arranging them in patterns, losing himself in the game. I’d counted one hundred forty-eight stones, all approximately two carats. Some were bigger. I’d made a quick stop at a jeweler at Ala Moana and asked what a two-carat VVSI stone was worth, reading what was written on the envelope. I figured wholesale at around four thousand dollars a carat. That would make each stone worth from sixty-five hundred to ten thousand dollars.
“Oh, diamond market not very good these days,” said Chawlie at last. “Can probably get five hundred a carat.”
I started picking up the stones from the scarred tabletop. One became lodged in a deep gouge in the wood and lay there reflecting the afternoon sun. I saw why people became enamored of diamonds. It held a beautiful cold fire, like a portable rainbow you could call up at will.
“No! I find out! I mebbe wrong, John Caine!”
“Yeah. You’re maybe wrong. Try again.”
“Two thousand! Tops, mebbe three.”
I continued picking up the diamonds, one at a time, lingering when my fingers brushed the slanting beam of sunlight that came through the front window.
“I give you five thousand each stone! I take all risk on selling.”
I thought about it. Five thousand dollars a stone. Close to three quarters of a million dollars. About half what they were worth. Chawlie was offering to split the take with me fifty-fifty. It wasn’t as much as I could have received if I sold them one at a time, but it was better than expected and nearly what I needed.
“I’m no merchant,” I said. “Cash. Three days.”
“I can do, John Caine. You give me now, I pay you three days time.”
“Of course, Chawlie. You good risk. Nobody ever shoot you, eh?”
He smiled, a wide, toothy grin. “Thompson make you rich, yah? He always talk winners and losers, winners and losers. He big loser.”
I nodded.
“As big as it gets,” I said.
37
There was an unoccupied table in the corner of the Marina, the open-air restaurant at the top of the slip where Duchess used to dock. The sun had vanished behind the Waianae Mountains by the time I got there, and there were no breezes in the warm summer night. The Kona winds had come again, bringing a close, sticky humidity without the cleansing trade winds that usually grace these islands. The night was black. Only the orange sodium lights of Makakilo and Pearl City lined the great darkness that was Pearl Harbor.
Max had called me on my cellular telephone as I was leaving Chawlie’s place. He was on the island, he had my money, and the admiral wanted to talk to me. I agreed to meet them at the Marina. I didn’t know why, but when I thought about it I guessed it was because it felt comfortable there. It had, after all, been a part of my life for more than a decade.
Max and Admiral MacGruder arrived ten minutes after I did. Max was in full dress uniform, wearing all his ribbons, and carrying a briefcase. He was impressive. I recognized the admiral immediately, even though he’d lost considerable weight since I’d last seen him. He had graying, close-cropped hair on a narrow skull. His build was spare and skinny, like a marathon runner or a terminal cancer patient. He saw me and smiled. It was a sad kind of smile. This man did not naturally view the world as a happy place. When I stood at his approach, I noticed he no longer had the ramrod posture I’d remembered.
“Mr. Caine.”
“Call me John, Admiral.”
“Call me Winston, John. You’re no longer in uniform.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
It was a little joke, meant to relax him. It was also intended to let him know the depth of respect and affection I had for him. A waitress came and the admiral ordered a bottle of Opus One cabernet sauvignon. Max shook his head and ordered a Corona Extra.
“Max told me your story. At least part of it. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate … what you did. There are no words, John. No words.”
“I owed you, sir.”
Our drinks arrived, and we sat in silence while the bottles were opened. When the waitress left h
e said, “Most people wouldn’t understand that.”
“Some debts cannot be discharged any other way,” I said.
“That’s true, as far as it goes. But now I am in your debt.”
I shook my head. “Not at all.”
“You suffered great loss.”
“You have, too.”
“It is impossible,” he said, “getting through life without some loss. The chief here has something that belongs to you.”
Max reached under the table and handed me the black leather briefcase. “It’s all there, John,” said Max. “Plus a little.”
“There’s no way for me to adequately reward you, John. The money you gave to Max for safekeeping is there, as is a check to compensate you for the loss of your home.” When I began to protest, he put up his hand to stop me. “It’s only right,” he said. “I’ve enough money. It’s the right thing to do.”
So what do you say to that? I said thank you and took another sip of the cabernet.
“You suffered another loss, I’m told. Kate Alapai, the detective, wasn’t it? I met her. She was a fine woman. I’m sorry for your loss. I know what it’s like.”
“It all hasn’t hit me yet, Admiral. I’m just taking it one day at a time.”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s the only way to do it. Have you had a chance to make any plans?”
I shook my head. “I’m going to Kauai in a couple of days. I’ll spend as much time as it takes. There’s a heiau there, and some of Kate’s people are restoring it. They invited me to work with them. Work on the stones, weed the taro patch. You know, carry water, chop wood. Right now it sounds good.”
“Weed taro? Like Scipio Africanus, the general-farmer who saved Rome from Hannibal? I can see you doing that for a short time. Then you’ll have to do something else.”
“It will do for now. I need to find some peace.”
The admiral nodded, his lips pursed into a thin line. He too needed peace. I hoped that I’d given him a chance, now that there were no longer uncertainties about his daughter. “Max tells me you do this kind of thing for a living,” he said. “When you feel up to it, give me a call. I might have something for you.”
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