by Kay Hadashi
“Come on, throw me a bone.”
Maile gave in. “Okay, fine. I’ll call the mother and try to arrange something. But you owe me a get out of jail free card.”
After they shook hands on it, Maile called Thérèse’s mother and chatted for a few minutes. Once she learned that Thérèse was coping well, she brought up Ota’s plan of meeting with her.
“They’re planning on going out to dinner, but if we get there pretty soon, you can talk to the girl for a while. You better believe I’m going along, though.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Ms. Spencer.”
A few minutes later, they went in through the small main entrance of the older hotel. The buildings were only two stories tall, and had lush tropical plantings all around them, with patio seating at the small swimming pools. That’s where they found the mother and daughter, wading in a pool. Once they were out of the water, the mother dried Thérèse and put a shirt on her. Ota told Maile to take a walk for a few minutes.
Instead of leaving, Maile sat on a chaise lounge nearby to watch Ota work his charm on the kid.
The girl stuck her hand out to shake his. “Hello, Sir. My name is Thérèse Kato.”
“Very nice to meet you. You sure are a good swimmer,” Ota said to break the ice.
“I’m on the swim team. My mom is teaching me and Brother…Brother and me how to swim like champions. He’s not so good yet. He’s better at art stuff.”
“Maile said you guys are pretty good friends.”
“She’s fun. She didn’t make me go to all those…” The girl stopped to look at her mother for a moment. “We went to Maile’s house for a while and looked at stuff. We made a kite but there’s no wind today. You gotta have wind to fly a kite.”
“That’s what I’ve heard. What else did you do there?” he asked. Maile was impressed he was being so gentle with the kid.
“Looked at old maps and stuff. I found a secret in a drawer that I’m not supposed to tell anyone else about.”
“Yes, secrets are important to keep, but sometimes they’re too important not to keep. Does that make sense?”
Thérèse nodded. “That’s what Maile told me. But she said the secret in the drawer was too important and to never tell anyone about it.”
“Are there any other secrets you guys shared at her house?” Ota asked.
“Just about my…” Thérèse looked at her mother again and clammed up.
“Maile told me you’re good at remembering things. Is that true?”
“Maybe. What kinda things?”
“Oh, like what people look like.”
“You mean the dead guy this morning?”
“Yeah, you know he’s dead?” Ota asked.
“Stink like other dead guys I smelled…I’ve smelled…I have smelled.”
The mother set her hand on the girl’s back. “Just say it any way you want, Tay.”
“Did you see if he was a white man, or Polynesian like Maile, or Asian like me?”
“It seemed scary because it was dark in there, so I didn’t go in very far. Maybe he was white?”
“Okay, good. Did you see his clothes?”
“Just an aloha shirt with blue flowers. Looked kinda like a tourist shirt.”
“You see lots of tourists where you live?” he asked.
“We live right across the road from a big resort. We go to the beach there a lot. Plenty of tourists all the time. I like to meet them. They come from all over the place.”
“Sounds like fun. My next question is really important, okay?”
“Okay.”
Ota leaned forward in his patio chair. “Did you see anything unusual about the man’s face?”
“The dead guy?” she asked.
“Right.”
“Like something was sticking out of it?”
“Well, yes, I guess that would be unusual. Did you see something like that?”
The girl winced a little. “I guess it was a knife. Just a big metal thing sticking out of his eye.”
“Did you notice if it was in his eyeball or next to it?”
Thérèse touched a finger to her chin in thought. “Sorry, Sir. I didn’t look that close.”
Ota looked frustrated when he leaned back. “Did you touch it?”
“No, Sir.”
“You didn’t pull it out and hide it?”
The girl made a yucky face. “No, Sir. My mom wouldn’t like it if I played with a knife like that.”
“That’s very good. Did you touch him at all?”
“No, Sir. He was too smelly, so I left. Was I supposed to do something to help him? Because my mom hasn’t taught me how to do that stuff yet. Pretty soon I’m going to learn CPR and how to stop bleeding. Was I supposed to do that with the dead guy?”
“No, you did everything exactly right.” Ota leaned back in his chair again. “After you left the smelly room, what did you do?”
“I saw Maile. She looked at the guy, and then we both went away a little bit. We talked about what we saw, and then the police came. They talked to her for a long time.”
“You didn’t see her take the knife out of the guy’s face?”
“No, Sir.” Thérèse looked past Ota and waved. “Hi, Maile!”
Ota got her attention back on him. “One more big question. You said you found a secret in a drawer at Maile’s house. Was that secret thing a knife?”
“No, Sir.”
“What was it?” he asked.
“You said one more question.”
“So?”
“That’s two questions.”
Ota looked up at the mother. “It’s just one last question.”
Melanie smiled at him and had her daughter run along. “Detective, you’re going to lose that battle. Thérèse is one of the most stubborn people you’ll ever meet. But if she said she saw a knife in the man’s face, then she did. And if she said that whatever secret thing she found at Maile’s house was not a knife, then I’m going to believe that, also. My daughter might be a little big and bold for her age, but she’s honest to a fault. She expects the same from everyone else. Otherwise, she wants nothing to do with them.”
While Thérèse sat and sipped from a juice box, Maile watched the mother and Ota wage a battle of wits.
“I just wanted to verify…”
Melanie interrupted. “Whatever she’s told you and Maile about the incident this morning is accurate. Looks like your interview is done, Detective.”
“I do have a few more questions, if you don’t mind?” he asked.
Dr. Kato stood. “Actually, I do. That’s exactly what my daughter told me earlier, and I’m not going to let you press her for more. Any questions for me?”
“No, Ma’am. That should wrap it up.” Ota flipped his notepad closed and put it away. He took a deep breath. “There’s something that needs to be said.”
The mayor crossed her arms over her chest. “About?”
“Nate Nakatani. You see, the thing is…”
“Don’t worry about it. He was on Maui when all the trouble came, not here in Honolulu. It’s not your problem.”
“I’d still like to apologize for…”
She put her hand up to stop him. “It’s a done deal. As far as I’m concerned, he and all the others got exactly what they deserved. The time has come for the rest of us to move on.”
***
Maile said her goodbyes to the family and watched as they went back to their room. Finding him still there a few minutes later, Maile reconnected with Ota outside the hotel entrance. “Get anything from the girl that I didn’t already tell you?”
“Only that she confirmed what you told me, that something was sticking out of his face.”
“Satisfied we’re telling you the truth?”
“Police are never satisfied people are telling them the truth.”
“So jaded.”
“Maybe. Do you need a ride home?” he asked. “I seem to have taken up your entire day.”
“Ordinarily I would, but not today, thanks. I think I’ve had enough of police business. When you catch the guy that killed Swenberg, let me know.” Maile started off down the sidewalk but stopped and looked back at Ota. “You know what? Scratch that. I don’t want to know.”
“You might want to know this police business.”
Reluctantly, she turned around. “What’s that?”
He closed the gap between them. “Look, I need help with this case.”
“Sounds like you’re insinuating you want my help.”
“Need your help. There’s some new info about these Swenberg guys that nobody knows yet, except me and the CSI techs. Not even the patrol officers are privy.”
“But you want to tell me? Why? Wouldn’t that be a break in protocol?”
“Major break, unless you agreed to help. It would be something of an undercover deal, and those only work when nobody knows someone is undercover.”
“You need a woman for it?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Why me? There’s no female cop in the department that can help? Or from one of the other islands?”
“A couple of reasons why you interest me. First is that I hate to use a female that I can use for something else that’s higher risk later on. The other reason is that you have a way of showing up places, getting some dirt of people, and then disappearing. Do I have that right?”
Maile was a self-avowed gossip, and didn’t try to hide it. If a secret was being held, she was able to pry it loose. It also put her on unsteady footing with her friends. “Not necessarily my best trait. What would I have to do?”
“Not much, but I can’t go into details unless you fully agree to come on board.”
“On board with what? I’m not agreeing to anything unless I know what’s going on.”
He held up a finger. “One thing. You can chew on that while you decide and let me know in the morning. Okay?”
Maile shrugged. She still wasn’t sure what was behind the request, since she and Ota had never been on firm ground with each other.
“The Swenbergs have a brother, right here in Honolulu. In fact, he’s the permanent resident, while the other two are recent transplants here from the mainland.”
“Doesn’t sound so sinister, unless you’re thinking he had something to do with their deaths?” she asked.
“That’s what we’re still trying to decide. He’s only a half-brother, which throws an extra dimension into it.”
“I still don’t see what that has to do with me? Why do you need an undercover female to figure out if a half-brother killed his siblings?”
“Because as far as I can tell, you’re the only person who has met both Swenbergs while they were still alive, and seen the item the first Swenberg took into the water at Hanauma Bay that time. There’s something about that thing you saw that ties all of them together, I just know it,” he said. “I just can’t figure out what it is. That’s why I’m asking you specifically to help with this.”
“And the undercover part?”
“Oscar Swenberg, the half-brother, is quite wealthy. Or at least appears to be. He lives in Hawaii Kai, with a house and yacht on the lagoon.”
“I’d call that wealthy,” Maile muttered. She figured the cabin of the guy’s yacht was probably bigger than her entire apartment. “That’s not far from Hanauma Bay.”
“Right. I’m not sure if that’s coincidental or important to the case. The thing is, he’s having a party at his house, which I’m sure will include his yacht. I need you to go to that party.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? I don’t have a dress that I could wear to an upscale party like that and can’t afford to run out and buy one. Anyway, I’ve been promising my mother I’d take her to church tomorrow, and spend the day with her.”
“Can’t skip church for one week?”
“I’ve been skipping church for several months. How am I supposed to get into this party, anyway? It’s not like those kinds of people let someone like me crash their parties.”
“I have a way of getting you in, but I need to know you’re on board with this.” He glanced around as if looking to see if they were being watched. “Let me know first thing in the morning, okay?”
With that, he got in his sedan and took off like a shot, leaving Maile to a new set of worries.
Chapter Six
Maile had only one dress that could be considered fancy: her high school prom dress. If she spent a few hours letting it out, it might even still fit. As fit as she was, nature had made a few changes to her body in the decade since she’d worn that dress. The other option was to wear her wedding dress, which was a long-sleeved muu-muu that went to her ankles. Both dresses had been worn only once, and that had been enough. When she got to her mother’s cottage in Manoa Valley, she dug through boxes in the back of a closet until she had both out.
“Why you looking at those?” her mother asked. She watched over Maile’s shoulder as she sat on the floor of her old bedroom. “Not hitchin’ up with that Robbie again, are you?”
“Not marrying him or anyone else, not for a long time. I just need a nice dress.”
“I can sew something.”
“I need it for tomorrow.” She held the prom dress in front of her and looked in the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door. “Ugh. What made me choose this color?”
“That boy you went with liked it. Everything red with that boy, remember?”
Maile chuckled at the memory now a decade old. What had seemed so precious back then was now barely a humorous after-thought. “Red clothes, red car, red hair. Insisted I wear a sparkly red prom dress. Too weird.” She put the dress back in its box.
Her mother collected the muu-muu in her hands. “I can do something with this. Nice fabric.”
Maile put the dress on. “Still fits. Take the sleeves off and bring the hem up to my knees might make it look like something other than failed dreams and a broken heart.”
Kealoha took the dress once Maile had it off again. “I’ll fix it after dinner. What’s the big thing tomorrow?”
“Just a party to go to. And before you ask, it’s a daytime party. I’ll be home early.”
Kealoha led Maile from the bedroom. “Staying here all the time lately. Why not just move back in?”
“Still trying to be an adult living on her own, even though I’m failing miserably.” Maile set the table for the two of them to eat dinner while her mother finished their meal at the stove. “Saw Robbie the other day.”
“At that bar?”
“Yeah, outside his stupid British pub in Honolulu’s Chinatown. That was a good idea, almost as good of an idea as the little…as the woman he seems to be dating.”
“He’s dating already?” Kealoha asked.
“Has been all along, apparently. There’s even a rumor he has two of them.”
“Something strange about that boy.”
“Yeah, like he doesn’t know right from wrong,” Maile said, scooping diced Spam and rice with carrots into bowls for them.
“Didn’t know how much good he got when he married you, that’s for sure.”
Maile was able to linger over a peaceful meal for a change, gossiping with her mother until the food was gone. “I didn’t leave you any leftovers.”
“Never mind. I got a new diet in the mail from the doctor. Not supposed to eat pork. No salt. What’s left?”
“Rice, and try to ease off that a little, also. Maybe if your doctor and I pester you enough about it, you might finally lose some weight.”
“Never gonna be skinny like you again.”
“Don’t need to be, Mom. Just need to be healthier. You want to raise a grandbaby, don’t you?”
Her mother looked up, startled. “You hapai way?”
“No, Mom. For the tenth time this week, I’m not pregnant. My knight in shining armor hasn’t raided the castle keep.” Maile took their dishes to the sink and ran water over the
m. “I need to go over to the main house and do some research. Let me know when you have the dress done.”
“Not gonna help your mother with the dress for your party?”
“You know me with a needle and thread. I’d have it inside out and backwards by the time I was done with it.”
It was a clear night for a change in the Manoa Valley, and Maile stalled on the formal patio behind the Manoa House for some stargazing. It was a silly romantic notion that everyone was looking at the same stars, but interpreting each in their own way. She figured there were as many stars in the sky as there were people on Earth, and with a deep breath and a long sigh to blow it out, she wondered if there was another star in the sky that matched her own. Pushing aside the silly schoolgirl notions, she disabled the alarm system and let herself into the old home.
“Dream on, girl,” she muttered, turning on a lamp. She logged onto the computer and went to the internet. “Oscar Swenberg, let’s learn a few things about you. If I’m crashing a party at your house, I want to know what I’m getting into.”
She was surprised to find a short Wikipedia article about the man, and his business enterprises in Hawaii. He started out as something of a local media and entertainment mogul, and in the last decade had expanded throughout the Pacific, reaching as far south as Polynesia and Australia, and to the US mainland. His business scheme was to find raw talent, spend some money to get their image and abilities up to professional standards, and then market them. Most of the people he worked with were singers and dancers, along with wannabe actors and broadcasters. She recognized a few of the names that he’d developed, the two biggest being an America’s Got Talent finalist, and a woman news anchor on a local network. He was also engaged to a Playboy Playmate, a centerfold model from the year before, reportedly a budding Hollywood actress.
“Your name is Honey Thrust? Seriously?”
When she discovered the Playmate was a girl from Honolulu, Maile couldn’t help but look at internet images of her. According to her online bio, they’d gone to the same high school, and had graduated one year apart, but she couldn’t remember anyone with a name even remotely similar to Honey Thrust.
Maile enlarged one of the images of the part Asian, part Polynesian, part Filipino, part white girl with bottle-blond hair and obviously fake lashes that looked like window awnings. Her heritage wasn’t much different from Maile’s, but the overall image had been altered to the point of looking completely contrived. She did her best to recognize the girl by imagining her with black hair and no makeup, but what kept catching her eye was her figure.