Dead at Diamond Head

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by Kay Hadashi

“Both. I just happened to catch him going in both directions. He dropped me off only a few blocks from where you picked me…found me.”

  “Who was the other eye witness?”

  “Security guard at that little commercial area in Hawaii Kai. Big Samoan moke. I didn’t get his name. He thought I was homeless.”

  “What were you doing to make him think that?”

  “I was just finishing my run and changing out of those jogging clothes into these when he saw me using a hose. I’d hidden these clothes with the dumpsters behind one of the restaurants there.”

  “The two of you spoke?” he asked.

  Maile nodded while swallowing another bite of food. She was paying a high price for the meal, and she was sure to get as much enjoyment as possible from it. “He said not to come back or there’d be trouble, that the merchants don’t like homeless people using their water to bathe or wash clothes. I promised him I wouldn’t be back.”

  “How far did you run?”

  “Not sure of the exact distance, but it was about an hour.”

  “Where did you run?”

  Maile was getting close to having to lie. Or at least elude the truth. “Residential area. Don’t know the names of the streets.”

  “Could it have been the same street that you were on over the weekend with Brock? The same street Oscar Swenberg lives on?”

  She felt like she was being cornered, but she was still telling the truth. “You know, it might have been. I saw his place during the day. I went for the jog at night. Things look entirely different after the sun’s gone down.”

  “Yes, they do. It seems odd that you’d take the bus late at night just to go for a run.”

  “Is that an observation or are you looking for an explanation?” she asked.

  “Both.”

  “The Honolulu Marathon is coming up and I wanted to train on those streets for a while, just to get to know the race course. The temperature is better at night for training, and there’s less traffic to deal with.”

  “Isn’t that the turn-around point?” he asked.

  “About two-thirds of the way through. The marathon starts at Ala Moana Park, goes downtown, then back through Waikiki, past Diamond Head, out to Hawaii Kai, to turn around there and back to the finish line at Kap Park.”

  “Have you done it before?”

  “Only half-marathons and it’s been since college since I did one of those.”

  “Why are you doing it?” Ota asked. “I mean, it’s a fantastic accomplishment, but what’s the point?”

  “Like climbing a mountain. To know that I can. Anyway, I have the time to train now, so why not?”

  “Let’s return to your trip to Hawaii Kai this evening. Was there anyone who saw you while out on your run that can identify and verify which streets you were on?”

  She shook her head slowly. “There was a stray dog at one point that I needed to outrun.”

  “What kind of dog?”

  “Not much of a dog expert. Always wanted one as a kid, though.”

  “What did it look like?”

  “Blotchy, sort of dark brown and light brown. Medium sized. Had a pretty good set of teeth when it growled at me.”

  “What street was that?”

  Maile pretended to think about it. “You know, it might’ve been in the Swenberg’s neighborhood.”

  “Their street isn’t on the marathon route. Why would you run there?”

  All Maile had left to eat was a strip of bacon. She knew she was getting boxed in by the detective. She also wondered what he knew about what happened at the Swenberg’s place that night. If he thought she was guilty of something, he would’ve taken her directly to the police station, not to Denny’s for breakfast. She had to keep playing the game of hide and seek with the detective, while somehow staying neutral, just in case she needed to confess to something later. “What’s with all the curiosity about the Swenberg’s place?”

  “Like I said before, a prowler was picked up on the CCTV feed. Most of the prowler’s attention seemed to be focused on the boat, and not on the house.”

  “Did the police arrest someone?”

  He shook his head. “By the time a patrol car was able to roll past the place, it was an hour later and everything was quiet.”

  “And you think that since I’m one of your potential witnesses in the Swenberg case, I might know something?”

  “I think you know a lot about that prowler, Ms. Spencer.”

  Ota calling her Ms. Spencer rather than Maile made it an official interrogation, even if they were still in Denny’s. “Why do you think that?”

  “The prowler was slender with a female build, long hair in a ponytail or braid, wearing all black, including a black scarf or kerchief over her face.” He nodded at her bag of black clothes for emphasis.

  Maile took the still damp clothes from the bag for display. “I don’t have a black scarf.”

  “I see that.”

  “Did the video capture the face of the prowler?” she dared ask.

  “It was a digital video, one that captures an image every few seconds, rather than a continuous feed. The security company said they never got a clear image of the face. It did show her hiding in the landscape while a neighbor searched the yard, before the prowler climbed onto the boat, then leaving it a few minutes later, with something in both hands.”

  Maile didn’t know how long she’d been holding her strip of bacon, but she put it down. “And you’ve bought me this meal hoping that I confess to something?”

  “I’m hoping you have some sort of information about what was taken from the boat.”

  “Did you look for fingerprints?”

  “I have a CSI team there now. Will they find yours?” he asked.

  “I’m sure they will. I was on the boat during the party over the weekend. Officer Turner can verify that.”

  “They’ll also find footprints in the soft dirt in the landscaping at the Swenberg’s. I also noticed the soles of your shoes were dirty, as though you’d been in mud. It’s been a wet evening, great for leaving shoe prints in soft mud.”

  That was something Maile had neglected to rinse off with the hose. “If your CSI techs look hard enough, I’m sure they’ll find all sorts of sneaker prints I left behind while running. I ran through some mud here and there. That’s why I needed to rinse off with the hose. And like I said, my fingerprints will be everywhere on the yacht.”

  “Yes, I remember you telling me. I also remember you telling me that you saw nothing that looked like the box, but hadn’t had the chance to go through cabinets. Is that what you did tonight?”

  Maile studied Ota’s face for a while, wondering which direction the maneuvering was headed right then. “I might know something important about that case. Or at least potentially know something. But I need a get out of jail free card.”

  “You have it.”

  “Write it down on a slip of paper.”

  She watched as he wrote the words on a blank page in his notebook and tear it out.

  “Sign it.”

  Once that was done, she grabbed the slip and held it tightly.

  “It was me. I knew you weren’t able to get someone in there in an official capacity. I also knew I wouldn’t have the chance to do a thorough job of searching the yacht on some weekend trip without being caught, so I went tonight when they weren’t home. Remember, I have as much at stake in this as you do. More, even, since I missed my chance at getting to my hearing. You guys owe me big-time for that.”

  “Those were the feds. I’m just a lowly city cop trying to solve a double murder case.”

  “I don’t care if you’re the city dog catcher. Right now, anybody with the government is on my bad side. Yeah, I went to the Swenberg place and let myself into the yacht. I looked through every cabinet on the thing.”

  “What were the two things you left with?”

  “One was a can of soda. Ginger ale. I doubt they’ll miss it. I also stole one of Honey Baked Ham’s can
dy bars. I’ll replace both as soon as I get some money.”

  “I don’t care about the candy bar. What was the dark object in your other hand?”

  “That stupid box.”

  Maile’s to go meal was delivered to the table, along with the bill for Detective Ota.

  “It might be time to give back that get out of jail free card.”

  Maile glanced at the crumpled slip in her hand. “I’m done talking when I give this back.”

  “Smart girl. You didn’t bring the box with you?” he asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In a safe place.”

  “Did you look inside?”

  “It was locked.”

  Ota banged his hand on the table with frustration.

  “I didn’t have the key for it and it didn’t feel right trying to pry it open.”

  “You’re sure it was the same box?”

  “Ninety percent sure. Same size and color as what I remember. It was made from wood, something that would’ve been nice, decorative or fancy at one point, but it had lost its polish. No writing on it, just some markings, maybe like a manufacturer’s logo.”

  “You didn’t recognize the logo?”

  Maile shook her head. “Sorry.”

  “Did it seem heavy, or did it rattle as though something was inside?”

  “No rattling, not heavy, not light, just a wood box that was locked with a tiny lock and hidden hinges.”

  Ota began taking notes again. “No visible hinges?”

  “Nope. Just a very tight seam all the way around, and a small hole for the key.”

  “Could it have been a presentation box for a bottle of booze?”

  “Maybe. Definitely a presentation box, though. Could it be a cigar case? What are those called?”

  “Humidors. That’s another idea. Anything else about it?”

  “No wires, no white powder, no ticking.”

  “That’s always good. Where exactly was it?”

  “That’s the odd thing. And this will be interesting to you.”

  “It has been all along,” he said.

  “I found it in a special cabinet that seemed watertight. The cabinet was locked and needed a different key than all the others that were on…” She looked up at him, wondering how powerful her out of jail free card really was. “…the key ring that I was using.”

  “Just out of curiosity, and nothing official, was anything else inside the cabinet?”

  “It was almost as though it was being used as a safe. Inside was a manila envelope with several foreign passports, including ones with different names for Oscar and Honey, but with their pictures inside.”

  “Did you take those?” he asked.

  “No. But there were also ID cards for both of the brothers. Recent ones with current dates on the driver licenses. Valid credit cards, also.”

  “What were the names on the passports?”

  “Lucas Nilsson and Maria Guadalupe Contraves. Decent pictures of them so that I was able to recognize both. But Honey’s wasn’t too recent. Her hair is an entirely different color now than in the passport.”

  “That’s easily changed.”

  She showed him the pictures she’d taken, which were all nearly black from lack of light in the yacht cabin. He had her send the images to his email anyway.

  “Anything else in the cabinet?” he asked.

  “Yeah, and this is the interesting part. There was an old-fashioned jewelry box with hand-painted flowers on the top. Kinda pretty. It was locked, but the key was on the key ring, so I allowed myself a peek.”

  “And?”

  “Sparkly jewelry. Pretty fancy looking stuff, too. A necklace, bracelets, and several rings, all of them shiny and expensive looking. And no, I didn’t take anything for myself.”

  Ota looked like he was writing as fast as he could. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

  “Honestly, all I took was the wooden box.”

  “The word honest shouldn’t be used in that sentence.”

  Maile clutched her out of jail card even tighter. “I suppose not.”

  “You’re not going to tell me where the box is right now?”

  “No.”

  “But you know where it is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it in your possession?” he asked.

  “Not at all. My fingerprints aren’t on it, either.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “Safer than where it was a few hours ago.”

  “Why?”

  She smiled at him. “Because I’m the only one who knows where it’s at.”

  Ota put away is notepad and paid the bill.

  “I suppose you need a ride home?” he asked, when they got out to the parking lot.

  “It’d be nice. To my mom’s place would be even better. Morning buses haven’t begun to run yet.”

  He nodded at her hand. “I need that slip back.”

  “Get all your questions answered?”

  “No. But good enough for now.”

  “Am I going to jail?”

  “Not today.”

  “I’m done talking about anything related to the Swenbergs when I give it back,” she said.

  “That would probably be best for both of us.”

  Maile uncrumpled her ‘get out of jail free’ slip and handed it over.

  He drove through the university toward the Manoa Valley where Maile’s mother lived.

  “You want to earn some actual money? I can’t afford to keep feeding you.”

  “Money for doing what? I’m not dressing like a hooker to be bait in one of your Chinatown stings.”

  “Not that. We need you to take Swenberg up on his invitation for his yacht trip next weekend.”

  “I thought we were done talking about them?”

  “This is about next weekend, not last night. It would also be police sanctioned, which would be a lot less trouble for you.”

  “What about Brock…Officer Turner? Would he be going?”

  “Lenny said the invite was for you only.”

  “How does he know they mean me?” she asked.

  “He told us they said they wanted the Hawaiian chick in the green dress named Mary.”

  “Look, Detective, the reason I went to the yacht tonight was so I wouldn’t have to go on their weird sea voyage next weekend. I don’t like the idea of being alone on that boat with those two, especially going out on a cruise. I can see all kinds of trouble with that little scheme.”

  “We can make it worth your while,” he said.

  Maile yawned when she saw her mother’s little cottage in the distance. The long night was finally catching up with her. A gentle rain was falling, not much more than a heavy mist. It would be perfect for sleeping the morning away. “Sorry. Can’t pay me enough to be a part of a threesome.”

  He parked in the driveway to the main house in front. Just in front of them was a covered portico over the side entrance where a carriage would’ve let out its occupants a century before. “What if I were to work some sort of angle that you were no longer involved in the Prince Aziz case?”

  “No more feds or Mrs. Abrams?”

  “All I can do is try.”

  “Okay, I want cash for next month’s rent, plus a phone call from Mrs. Abrams guaranteeing me that I’m no longer involved in the Aziz case.” She gave it a moment of thought. “And I don’t go to jail for what happened last night at the Swenberg yacht.”

  “For that, I get the box in my hands and your full cooperation with the Swenberg cruise next weekend.”

  “Deal.”

  They shook hands and Maile left him behind, not even waving as she hurried through the rain into her mother’s cottage.

  ***

  Maile decided to take her phone call from Mrs. Abrams at Detective Ota’s desk on Thursday morning, just so she’d have a witness that the conversation, and the promise about Prince Aziz’s trial, had been made. She had the call on speaker, so Ota could hear it
also, but never told Abrams that. By the end of the call, Maile was satisfied that she was free of Prince Aziz forever.

  “Okay, next, we need to discuss the weekend cruise with the Swenbergs,” Ota said.

  “First, I want my money.”

  “We’re usually a little more subtle about these matters, Maile.”

  “Oh, like giving Lenny the snitch a beat down in an interrogation room before he gets his envelope?”

  Ota opened his desk drawer and got a sealed envelope out for her. Maile immediately tore it open and counted it.

  “There’s an extra hundred in there,” he said.

  “I noticed. Thanks. What’s it for?”

  “Buy your mother some groceries. Now, about this weekend…”

  “You don’t want the box first?”

  “You didn’t bring it?”

  “I wasn’t sure what to do. I’ve never been a police snitch before. Or am I an informant?”

  “You’re neither. I don’t have time to drive you around town. Believe it or not, I have better things to do than be your private chauffeur.”

  “I’ll go get it and bring it back.”

  “How long will that take?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “A couple of hours, if I catch the buses.”

  “What if you tell me where it’s at and I just go get it?”

  “I thought you had better things to do?”

  Ota waved his hands in frustration. “Just go get the thing and bring it back here, okay?”

  ***

  With her oversized bag slung over her shoulder, and her bus pass in her hand, Maile climbed aboard the next bus to Hawaii Kai. It was a long enough trip that she was able to doze for a few minutes on the way. She had been running at night recently, trying to stretch the number of miles each time, still with the upcoming marathon in her sights. She was just waking from her nap when the bus pulled into the transit center. It was a quick walk across the parking lot to the commercial area where she had hidden the box on a ledge three days before. Everything was business as usual, with people going in and out of shops and restaurants. She figured that as long as she was there and dressed nicely, she would apply for waitress jobs at restaurants.

  With that out of the way, she proceeded with her primary goal of retrieving the Swenberg Box for Detective Ota. But when she went around to the back of the building, she got a surprise.

 

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