by Kay Hadashi
Melanie tried not to roll her eyes. “It’s going into a bag. Look at the other side of the stretcher.”
Josh looked. “Wow. I’m no expert, but that looks like a lot.”
“That’s the second bag. The nurse has already emptied it once. After the third one, they’ll probably let me go.”
“How do they know how much to drain off?”
“That’s up to the Lasix and my vital signs. The drug keeps working until the blood is mostly back to normal. By then, my blood pressure and heart rate should be also.”
Thérèse was asleep by then and Melanie laid part of her blanket over the girl. The nurse came to empty the bag again.
“It’s not too much stress that’s making your vital signs be out of whack?” he asked.
“Let’s see. Mother of an active three-year-old and pregnant with another child, cardiothoracic and vascular surgeon at one of Hawaii’s busiest hospitals, mayor of one of the world’s most popular tourist destinations, and my mother-in-law is coming for an extended visit. Yes, maybe there’s some stress involved.”
“You’re coming home later?” Josh asked.
“Unless I can escape to the airport, but that’s the idea.”
“By dinnertime?”
“I hope so. I can have Trinh pick me up. Can you boil some noodles, no salt, make a salad, no salt, and steam some vegetables, no salt? Make a bucket of rice, too.”
Josh said he’d have everything ready for her to have a large, saltless meal, and to get rest. It was another four hours until Dr. Chapman was satisfied with the results, and with Melanie’s vital signs. Just as the IV and catheter were being taken out, Trinh arrived to take Melanie home.
“I thought you were in bad shape,” Trinh said with a scolding tone helping her into the car. “And don’t try and deny it.”
“I won’t.”
“Hey, I heard some news about the theft of the artifacts.”
“From the media or the police?”
“Well, first I heard from the librarian, and then the police. I took the kids to the library today for one last summer book to read. While I was there, the head librarian asked me what was new in the investigation, as if I knew anything about it. I didn’t want to admit I knew nothing, so I pumped her for information. It turns out the police have been there every day looking for clues, or whatever. Apparently, there was only one set of fingerprints on the case that held that old spear. Now they’re searching through all kinds of agencies to see if they can get a fingerprint match with a known criminal.”
“Only one set of fingerprints?” Melanie asked. “It seems like there should be a lot more than that in a library.”
“That’s what I said. The librarian explained the night housekeeper cleans all the display cases so they’re pristine, vacuums everything, dusts the counters and desks, so the place is spotless when they open the next morning.”
“I want that guy to come clean my house. But that means the burglar broke in sometime after the night housekeeper cleaned the place and before the morning librarian opened up.”
“Right,” said Trinh. “When I talked to the police, they said the library doesn’t have security cameras inside, but they’re tracking down security camera feed in the neighborhood, for a car or someone walking along carrying something late at night.”
“Any word on anything else that was taken from the museum?”
“Same as what they told us last night. The police have already found the battle-axes and kahili at an online auction site; at least they think it’s the same stuff, but they don’t have the funds to buy it. I guess there was some high bidder last night trying to get it, which threw the bidding into overdrive. The bad news is that the kahili is already gone. Somebody bought that as soon as it was available for bidding.”
“I might know something about that, but you have to keep quiet. Deal?”
“If you promise to get rest, and go for a walk twice a day, and then put your feet up, yeah, sure.”
“I bought the kahili.”
“No way.”
“I was on that site last night for a while, and when I saw the bidding going up in a hurry on it, I made a bid too good for the seller to pass up. Then when I tried the same trick on the other stuff, it didn’t work. That’s why those clubs and the spear are so expensive now.”
“But you can still go back and try again, with a super high bid, right? If it gets the stuff back, why not? Isn’t that the point, to get the stuff back?” Trinh asked. “Seriously, you have enough money to build a new museum and stock it with all the Hawaiian stuff we can find.”
“I can’t bail out Maui whenever there’s a problem like this. Somewhere along the way, Maui needs to figure out how to prevent some of this bad stuff from happening. County finances suck, the police department is under-staffed, our little power grid barely keeps up with demand, and the schools operate on a shoestring. I wish I could help but I can’t be a sugar momma every time some financial crisis comes along.”
“You’ve already done too much,” Trinh said.
“We. You’ve donated a big chunk of your money and time to this island. Not like it’s ever coming back to us. Where are we going, anyway?”
“If you’re feeling okay, I thought we could go for a drive and talk some of these county things over. I’m not entirely sure how many friends we have on the county council.”
“You get that feeling also?” asked Melanie. “I do think we can trust the police department, certainly the department commander. Nakatani seems okay. I’ve always had a funny feeling about a couple of them on the council, though.”
“The ones there last night were a little too friendly with your old friends, Jemmison and Tanikawa.”
“Not my friends,” Melanie hissed. “Anyway, they’re in state prison on Oahu where they belong. What do you think we should do about the rest of the artifacts?”
“I vote we bid high on what’s still available, just so we can get it back here where it belongs. Then we launch an investigation into how it got stolen, not just by whom. Is it whom or who?”
“I don’t know. Talk to Josh about grammar. But an investigation uses a detective, or at least an officer, something the department is in short supply of these days.”
“Why not hire a private detective? We can write a check to the county from one of your puppet organizations, make it look like grant money, and get to the bottom of it,” Trinh offered.
“My dad’s companies aren’t puppet companies. But I like the idea,” Melanie said, pressing on the imaginary brake pedal when Trinh entered a fast food drive-thru for something to drink.
“The library and the county museum both being hit only one day apart, and in the same way, stinks of an inside job. I think somebody working for the county is involved, somebody with keys.”
“You’re thinking the night janitor had something to do with it, huh?” Melanie asked.
“Makes sense. Seems peculiar that the whole place got spotlessly cleaned right before someone broke in and left fingerprints on the case. Something doesn’t add up with that. And wouldn’t the janitor have keys to all the county buildings so he could get in and clean them?”
Melanie took a sip of her lemonade. “I have no idea how many janitors we have working for the county.”
“I’ll look into it,” Trinh said, getting her SUV up to speed on the highway again.
Melanie began making notes on a napkin for Trinh to look at later. “If you’re going snooping, try to see if any of them are related to county council members, or even Jemmison or Tanikawa.”
“Where did you have that kahili shipped? Not to your house, right?” Trinh asked.
“I had it sent to Dad’s library, care of Aiko Murata. But I didn’t use the name of the library, just the street address. Even if they do figure out it’s his Presidential Library, they might think the place just wants something representative of every state. Since the kahili represented the ali’i chieftain of each island, it would be the perfect thing
for display in a Presidential Library.”
“That’s a good idea. Who’s Aiko Murata?”
“An old alias Mom used a million years ago. I’ll tell you about it some other time.”
“You have a weird family, Melanie Kato.”
“You’re a part of it.”
“Only because my dad married into it by marrying your mom.”
“He never knew what he was getting himself into,” Melanie said.
Trinh turned the car toward home. “What do we tell the rest of the council about buying back the stolen stuff?”
“We tell them nothing about our part of it, and for now, not even the police. If the council is innocent, they won’t care about how or why it was stolen, only expecting us to keep buying it. If they’re somehow complicit in those things being stolen, the culprits will never be caught. And if the police know we’re buying it, they’ll think we had something to do with it and focus their investigation on us, maybe even toss us in an interrogation room for a while. Personally, I’ve had enough of that.”
Melanie’s phone rang with a ringtone that meant hospital business.
“Doctor Kato? This is Doctor Benson, the pathologist at West Maui Med. How are you?”
Melanie wasn’t sure of how to respond. Had he somehow heard about her being a patient there that afternoon? Or did he have some delayed results from a surgery she’d done earlier in the week? Either way, there was an ominous tone to the call. “I’m fine. Can I help you with something?”
“I’m here in my office and have Mrs. Adelaide Winston waiting for me. She’s the mother of…”
Melanie rubbed her forehead. “Of Kenny Winston. Yes, the police have been expecting her arrival sometime today. She wants to see her son before you do his autopsy. Is there an issue?”
“I hope not. There’s a police detective named Nakatani here also. We’d like you to be here for when the mother views the body.”
“Is this call on speaker?” she asked.
“It is. Detective Nakatani is here with me, but the mother is in another room.”
“Why do you want me to be there? I wasn’t his care provider. In fact, he was long dead before he ever made it to the hospital. Frankly, I’m still not sure why he was brought to West Maui Med and not taken straight to the county morgue in town.”
“Neither are we. But since he’s on our turf, we have to deal with him, and with the mother.”
“Doctor Kato, this is Detective Nakatani. I was sent by my station commander to be with Mrs. Winston when she views her son’s body. We still think there are suspicious circumstances concerning his death, enough to keep the investigation open for a while.”
“From my preliminary external exam, it’s obvious to me he didn’t drown, nor are there signs he killed himself,” the pathologist said. Being the same specialty in medicine, pathologists also doubled as coroners in hospitals.
“That’s why the police are opening the investigation into his death,” Nakatani said.
“Not because his grieving mother is here to take him home, and will most likely demand an investigation? And if we don’t do one, she’ll hire outside docs, private investigators, and lawyers instead?”
“Predictive models would indicate that, yes,” said the detective.
“Don’t give me that nonsense, Detective Nakatani. Maui County is stuck with a dead man and his heartbroken mother, and now we’re trying to cover our butts, hoping we don’t get sued by trying to sweep it all under the rug.”
Trinh touched Melanie’s arm, motioning for her to relax. In turn, Melanie waved to be taken back to the hospital.
“Doctor Kato, this might very well be an accidental death, but to determine that, a thorough investigation needs to be done,” Benson, the coroner said. “I need to work with the police if we want to find out what happened to this poor boy.”
Melanie felt put in her place. “I know. Hopefully, it will be accidental. I hate the idea of someone being murdered on Maui.”
“None of us like it, Doctor,” one of them said, she wasn’t sure which.
“Are you going to be here or should we proceed without you?” the other asked.
“Yes, I’ll be there in just a few minutes. I’ll be there as mayor representing the county, I’ll be there as a physician willing to answer questions about his death, but most of all, I’ll be there as a mother talking to another mother who has lost her child.”
She rammed her finger on the End Call button and swore.
“The police think it was murder?” Trinh asked.
“They think it’s suspicious. Frankly, so do I. Now I get to go meet with the kid’s mother. Do you mind waiting for me?” Melanie asked.
“I have nothing better to do than gripe at the kids when I get home. Want me to come in with you?” Trinh offered. She parked at the rear of the hospital.
“Maybe you should. I look okay? Like a mayor should look?”
“You look ten months pregnant, and way better than you did yesterday, but yes, you look mayoral. Better than the last five mayors put together.”
“You’ll have to pull me out of your car. My back is killing me and one leg is going numb from sitting too upright.”
Trinh pulled Melanie out by the hands. “What’d you do to your back? Is this something else to worry about?”
“Next time you see Harm, ask him about a hard landing in a helicopter we had once. I think it’s related to that. Just a bad disc that’s beginning to hate me, and right now is not a good time for that.”
When they went in the rear entrance to the pathology department and the small hospital morgue, Melanie saw a lady sitting alone in the waiting area. She looked a decade or so older, and had the dark suntan Arizonans were famous for. She went straight to her.
“Mrs. Winston?”
The woman stopped picking at her cuff and looked up. Her eyes were red but dry, and she forced a polite smile. “Yes?”
“My name is Melanie Kato. I’m the mayor of Maui County, and this is Trinh Park, my Vice Mayor. I was asked to come in and visit with you.”
Mrs. Winston stood, reaching almost a foot shorter than Melanie, and was as petite as a middle-aged woman could be. They shook hands and shared greetings. Melanie noticed the woman glance at her belly a couple of times but never said anything. She sent Trinh to find Benson and Nakatani.
Melanie kept the woman’s hand in hers. “Ma’am, I’m terribly sorry about what happened to your son. I cannot imagine how heartbroken you must be.”
“Thank you. For some reason, they don’t want me to see him.”
“Maybe we should sit down.” Melanie pointed the woman to a short sofa in the waiting area. “It might be best that way. I saw your son when he was first brought to the hospital yesterday morning. Unfortunately, they need a positive ID from someone who knows him.”
“They call the mayor for something like that?”
“Not usually, Ma’am. I’m also a doctor here at the hospital, and the emergency room physician on duty at the time asked me to come take a look when he was brought in.”
“I still don’t understand why I can’t see Kenny.”
“He’d been in the water for quite a while, maybe as long as a full day.” Melanie paused to think of how to proceed. How could she tell a mother her son had been crushed by a boat and then battered around by the tides? “The tide had moved him about quite a bit. At this point, I doubt he’d look like your son and would appear more like a stranger.”
Mrs. Winston stood. “I’d still like to see him.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Melanie tried standing but couldn’t get her feet working with the rest of her. Rescuing her was Trinh, just coming back with Benson and Nakatani.
They went as a group to the cooler room where half a dozen stainless steel drawers were in one wall. Along another wall was a stretcher with a body covered by a sheet. Melanie was just behind Mrs. Winston and noticed her stall for a moment.
“We don’t have to do this, Ma’am.”
“No, I want to. I need to know if it was my son.”
Dr. Benson, the pathologist, uncovered the head end of the body, exposing the young man’s ashen face. Mrs. Winston took a cautious step forward, still a few feet back. Melanie went with her.
“Kenny?” the woman said, barely breathing the words. She closed the distance and touched his face, immediately pulling her hand back. “You’re so cold.”
Close to tears, Melanie had to do something. All she could think to do was put her arm around the shoulders of Mrs. Winston. She waited for the woman to touch her son once again before turning away from him. Melanie led her back to the waiting area.
“I’m very sorry to ask, Mrs. Winston, but that was your son, right?” the detective asked.
She nodded while drying her eyes.
Trinh brought a cup of tea for the woman, who clutched it in her hands, maybe warming them after the cold touch of death she’d got from her son.
“His body…wasn’t right.”
“We think he had gone out surfing and maybe got hit by a boat,” said Detective Nakatani, who had joined them. “We’ve already been searching small boat marinas for damaged craft and have been asking the public for information about the accident.”
They talked for a few minutes about what might’ve happened to her son, how long he’d been in the water, and the types of injuries he’d suffered. Melanie sensed the woman was breaking down, so she called an end to the meeting.
The small group went out to the parking lot. It was a balmy evening, with steady tradewinds, exactly why people lived in the tropics. Mrs. Winston just stood still, looking out at the cars parked there. “I don’t know what to do.”
“When the time comes, we’ll help you make arrangements to take Kenny home,” started Melanie.
“No, I don’t have a room. Not even a car. I had a taxi bring me here from the airport.”
Melanie and Trinh looked at each other and silently shrugged.
“I have a guest room you could use,” Melanie offered. “It’s not much, but it might be better than staying alone tonight in a hotel room.”
Mrs. Winston continued to gaze out at seemingly nothing. “I should find a room. Or maybe I should just go home now.”