Moonlight Cocktail
Page 11
“Me too,” Katherine said, looking lovingly at Jack.
“I hope I’m as lucky as you two some day,” Rich said.
“You will be, Rich. Just hold out for the right one,” Katherine said.
“My father always told me that I’d know the right one when she came along, and he was right,” Jack said.
“Well, I’ve certainly had my share of wrong ones,” Rich responded.
“Don’t get discouraged, Rich,” Katherine said. “She could be right around the next corner.”
As their entrees arrived, Rich looked at Katherine and said, “I’ll take your advice and keep an eye out at that next corner. By the way, it’s a shame that Derek Reynolds bit the dust. Did they conclude he had a heart attack?”
“The police haven’t issued a statement yet,” Jack said.
“Why haven’t they? Don’t they routinely do autopsies here in Honolulu?”
“Maybe they’re being extra careful in this case, because Reynolds was such a well-known person,” Jack said, trying not to disclose more than Dave would have liked.
“Well, I guess I’m not surprised that they’d do a thorough autopsy in his case. That was quite a crowd at the party,” Rich said.
“What do you mean?” Jack asked.
“Oh, the cast and crew were composed of the usual cross- section of Hollywood types, and there’s always at least one of them who finds the need to consume something other than the available legal substances.”
“Did you see anyone with drugs in the Club?” Jack inquired.
“No, but I went into the men’s room and there was somebody in a stall who sounded as if he was doing something other than merely dropping his drawers or pulling them up.”
“Did you see him?” Jack asked.
“No, and I didn’t even make the connection until I heard about Reynolds’ death.”
“Could it have been Reynolds in the men’s room?” Jack asked.
“No, I saw him talking to a group of people when I came out of the bathroom.”
“Well, I can assure you that it wasn’t a member of the Club or an employee of the Club. That kind of stuff does not go on there and would not be tolerated,” Jack said.
“I have no doubt. In any event, we’ll know the cause of death when they issue the autopsy report,” Rich said.
“That we will,” Jack responded.
After Kona coffee and macadamia nut ice cream, Rich glanced at his watch. “Well, it’s been a wonderful evening, but I’m afraid my car picks me up at seven tomorrow morning for another round of briefings and meetings. I should hit the hay.”
“I hope they’re less technical than today’s round,” Jack said.
“They will be. The Navy officer who travels with me asked me how I enjoyed today’s briefings, and I told him I found some of them a bit hard to parse. I’m sure he’s conveyed that message to tomorrow’s briefers.”
“Shall we walk back to the Pink Palace?” Katherine asked.
“I’m ready. You know, the Royal is a terrific hotel,” Rich exclaimed, “I’m really enjoying it.”
“It’s also good for the local economy that you’re staying here in town, Rich,” Jack said, “and you’ll get a much better feel for the city than if you were staying out at Pearl Harbor.”
“I agree and I want to thank you both for a great evening,” Rich said. “I’ve made two new friends here tonight.”
“You have. Let’s try to get together again before you return to Washington,” Jack said.
“And Rich, she’s right around the next corner,” Katherine reminded him.
“I’ll count on it, Katherine.”
They said good night in the lobby, and Jack turned to Katherine and asked if she would take a short walk in the courtyard behind the Royal Hawaiian’s lobby.
“Sure. What are you thinking about?”
“Something that Rich said.”
“What?”
“He heard somebody doing something in the men’s room other than the usual.”
“He thought someone might be taking drugs, didn’t he?”
“That’s what he thought. But that someone could also have been preparing poison.”
“Do you think?”
“Why not?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jack was sitting on their lanai overlooking Waikiki Beach the next morning when Katherine brought him a cup of Kailua Plantation’s finest Kona coffee and his favorite breakfast of sliced papaya with a lime and whole wheat toast.
“Thank you, baby,” Jack said, drawing his wife close to him and hugging her.
“You’re welcome, hubby,” she said, sitting down with her coffee and toast.
The Maine Coon lounged at their side, occasionally dropping his head into a bowl of milk and then shaking it to clear the milk from his whiskers, launching drops of milk across the lanai.
“What time do you meet with the doctor?” Katherine asked.
“Noon, and I think he’s called a Hawaiian Healer.”
“That should be an interesting way to spend Thursday afternoon. What do you hope to learn from him?”
“I want to find out what plant he thinks was the source of the poison that killed Derek Reynolds.”
“How would he know that? He hasn’t even seen the toxicology report,” Katherine observed.
“I’m going to describe the symptoms as I remember them and just see where it goes from there. I’ll tell him what kind of guy Reynolds was and who was present at the party. Maybe that will trigger something in his mind.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to do some more research first?”
“Probably, but Maile at the Bishop Museum called him for me, and I don’t think I should pass this opportunity up.”
“I agree,” Katherine said as she finished her coffee and got up from the table.
“What are you doing today?” Jack asked.
“Hoping that some more ladies like you met yesterday drop by and decide they simply must have something from my shop. And Hypatia said she may come by with Jennifer.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Hypatia said she was sorry that Jennifer hadn’t been able to come by on Tuesday morning and wanted to bring her by later in the week.”
“Why didn’t Jennifer join Hypatia on Tuesday morning?” Jack asked.
“Jennifer called her early that morning and said she didn’t feel well.”
“Has she recovered?”
“I’ll find out today if they stop by.”
“I wonder whether any other folks who attended the party on Monday night didn’t feel well on Tuesday morning,” Jack said.
“Do you think someone tried to poison Jennifer as well?”
“No,” Jack said, “but I better get going if I want to get to Haleiwa by noon.”
Jack and Katherine took the elevator to the lobby where they ran into Peter Dillingham, the manager of the hotel.
“I’ve been talking with some Old Hawaii hands,” Peter said, “and we’ve come up with the most exciting idea to liven things up around here.”
“Peter, people don’t come here for excitement,” Jack said. “They’ve got plenty of that back home.”
“I don’t mean that kind of excitement. I’m going to bring back an Old Hawaii tradition and broadcast a radio show from the Mai Tai Bar.”
“That sounds like a great idea, Peter.”
“What kind of radio show will it be?” Katherine asked.
“It will feature traditional and contemporary Hawaiian music.”
“Thank God. We don’t need another talk show on the air waves,” Katherine said.
“Exactly. I decided to revive an old radio show format that used to originate from the Moana Surfrider Hotel, known as ‘Hawaii Calls’. It was quite popular and heard around the world. Arthur remembers it. But this time we’ll broadcast a show on the radio and we’ll stream it on the internet.”
“Wonderful. We can’t wait to hear it, Peter,” Katherine said.
&n
bsp; “You can not only hear it, Katherine, you can see it,”
Peter replied with a flourish. “I’d like you and Jack to be my guests at the broadcast of the first show.”
“We’d love to,” Katherine said.
“When’s the first show?” Jack asked.
“With luck, next week, if everything goes right.”
“What are you going to call it?” Katherine asked.
“‘This Is Hawaii’,” Peter proclaimed with obvious pride.
Just then, Jack’s Jeep arrived at the hotel entrance. He kissed Katherine goodbye and asked Peter to call them as soon as the show’s first performance was scheduled.
As Jack drove from Waikiki to McCully Street and then zigzagged through the small streets that led to H-1, he began to think about possible suspects. The most likely, he thought, was someone who held a grudge against Reynolds. It was unlikely that those who had met Reynolds for the first time Monday night would have had enough time to develop any more than a visceral dislike for the man. Jack began to think about the people at the party who had known Reynolds long enough to generate the hatred that must have fueled his murder.
When he passed the exit for Pearl Harbor, Jack smiled as he imagined Richard Stanley sitting in the gray, World War II-era building that served as Pacific Fleet Headquarters, translating his morning briefings. Shortly, the exit for Oahu’s second modern highway, H-2, emerged and he bore right in a northwesterly direction toward the town of Haleiwa on Oahu’s North Shore. Jack always enjoyed this ride, because the scenery resembled Oahu as it was a hundred years ago when sugar and pineapples drove Hawaii’s economy.
Soon, the Waianae Mountains loomed on Jack’s left, four thousand feet above the Army base at Schofield Barracks. This part of Oahu was a fertile plain covered by fields of pineapple and sugar cane. These green crops stood in bright contrast against the rust-colored soil that looked like clay waiting to be molded into bricks. Fire and smoke in a distant part of the field signaled the end of harvesting and disposal of the remnants of sugar cane plants.
An hour and a half after he had left Katherine at the Royal, Jack arrived at his destination. Haleiwa is a quaint small town situated between two lovely bays of sparkling blue water with art galleries, restaurants, beaches, old houses, and a lot of Hawaiian tradition. Papa David Wai’hee lived in a green wood frame house on a quiet street not far from Waialua Bay. Jack walked up three gray wooden steps to the porch, and Papa David, hearing his footfalls, came to the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Sullivan,” he said, emerging from behind the opening screen door.
“Good morning, Papa David.”
Papa David was a distinguished looking elderly man of medium height, powerfully built, with short-cropped gray hair.
He wore a brightly colored cotton Aloha shirt outside his beige trousers, and his handshake was firm.
“Thank you for taking the time to see me, Papa David.”
“It’s no trouble at all. Maile is a great friend of mine. She has helped me wade through the Bishop Museum’s collections on many occasions, and I was only too happy to help out a friend of hers. Maile told me you have some questions about Hawaii’s poisonous plants. Did you have an unfortunate encounter with one?”
“Sort of, but not directly,” Jack replied.
“Did a friend of yours get sick as a result of contact with one of them?”
“Not exactly.”
“Let’s go inside to get my books, and I’ll show you pictures of our botanical neighbors who sometimes look quite beautiful and, therefore, harmless, but nevertheless pack a powerful punch if contacted in the wrong way.”
Jack followed Papa David into the living room, where one wall was lined with bookcases. Papa David selected a large book, the size of an atlas, pulled it down from the shelf, and handed it to Jack.
“Would you like some tea, Mr. Sullivan?”
“Please call me Jack and, yes, that would be great.”
Papa David went into the kitchen and returned with two cups of tea on a tray. He motioned to Jack to join him on the porch where they sat in rattan rocking chairs facing the bay.
“Do you know what the plant looked like that your friend came into contact with?” asked Papa David.
“That’s the problem. We don’t know.”
“Can you describe the symptoms that your friend manifested after he came into contact with the plant?”
Jack hesitated and looked at Papa David, whose wise eyes persuaded him to share his confidence.
“Papa David, did you read the story in the Advertiser about the Hollywood producer who collapsed at the Diamond Head Canoe Club on Monday night?”
“Yes. Did he have a heart attack as the television news reported?”
“If he did, that wasn’t the cause of his death,” Jack responded. “He was poisoned. The autopsy revealed a liquid substance in his stomach that had been extracted from a poisonous plant. The police don’t know what plant it came from, and the toxicologists are stumped as well.”
“And how did you come to learn this, Jack?”
“The police officer in charge of the investigation is a friend of mine and he told me in a sort of quasi-official way so I could help him with one part of the investigation that involves a mutual friend of ours. Not in any criminal sense, of course.”
“And you’re doing a bit of freelancing, on a quasi-official basis, of course,” said Papa David, breaking into a knowing smile.
“I am,” Jack conceded.
“Well, the first step in any healing process is to get to know the patient. And if, as I suspect, you are a lawyer, you know that the first step in preparing a witness is also to learn everything you can about him. Correct?” Papa David asked.
“How did you know I’m a lawyer?” Jack asked. “Did Maile tell you?”
“She did, but it would have been obvious in any event, Jack. I rather enjoyed your circumspect approach. It showed your concern for the confidentiality with which you have been entrusted by the police department. We have similar responsibilities in the doctor-patient relationship.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jack said.
“Now, Jack, tell me about yourself, and then I will tell you who I am and what I do.”
Jack told Papa David about Katherine, his family, his education, his service in the Navy, and his work as a lawyer. Upon hearing that Jack’s father was also a physician, Papa David launched into a discussion of his own life and his profession.
“Jack, Maile probably told you that I am a ‘Kahuna la‘au lapa’au’, one who is skilled in the art of plant medicine.
‘La’au’ is the Hawaiian word for plant, ‘lapa’au’ is Hawaiian for medicine, and you want to know about ‘la’au make’, which is the Hawaiian way of saying poison. And I’m sure you noticed that the first part of that phrase is the same word that appears in my title - ‘la’au’, meaning plant. The second word in that phrase, ‘make’, means death. Literally translated ‘la’au make’ means plant death, or death by plant. So, you see, we Hawaiians have a long history of dealing with the effects of our people coming into contact with the poisonous plants that abound in these islands.”
Jack felt as if he were back in high school, listening to his father explain the Latin and Greek roots of medical terms and other scientific phenomena. Just then, a tall, handsome woman walked out onto the porch. She wore a floor-length pink dress, and her hair was dark brown with streaks of gray. Jack knew instinctively that she was Papa David’s wife and stood to greet her.
“Jack, I would like you to meet my wife, Kaiulani.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Kaiulani. Your husband is a great teacher.”
“That’s his way, Jack. It’s so nice to meet you as well. May I get you some more tea?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you.”
“Then I will leave you two to your discussion. I’m going to visit our daughter down the street.”
“Now, where were we, Jack?” Papa David said with a smile.
“It’s a habit of men of a certain age who were taught the importance of words when they were young,” Papa David said.
“Your wife is lovely,” Jack told him. “I’m sure any interruption by Kaiulani is a welcome respite from whatever you’re doing.”
“She’s the light of my life. I would be nowhere without her.”
“I can feel her effect on you just from the short time she was with us,” Jack said.
“We Hawaiians are a very spiritual people, Jack, and we have those kinds of effects on each other, particularly between husband and wife.”
“You must meet my wife Katherine. She has the same effect on me.”
“Well, Jack, let me tell you more about what I do and perhaps we’ll conclude that I can help you. Let me tell you about ‘la’au lapa’au’. It is the traditional form of Hawaiian healing. Much of it is spiritual. That’s why I wanted to talk to you before we started discussing your question, so that I could understand you and your relationship to the world around you. The medicine that we use is derived from nature. We find it in our backyards and we find it in the mountains and we find it by the sea. I can tell by your smile that you know I’m referring to the plants that grow throughout these islands.”
“I knew I came to the right place,” Jack said.
“We have learned over time how to use these plants, both alone and in combination with each other, to treat medical conditions.”
“Give me an example,” Jack asked.
“The bark of a certain shrub can be mixed with the sap of a certain nut to produce a laxative or to cause vomiting.”
“Sort of like the green apple quick step,” Jack responded with a smile.
“Very similar, Jack. But at the same time, it’s important to measure the proportions of fluids extracted from these plants so they don’t cause any untoward effects.”
“Like poisoning.”
“Yes, like all medicines, some of the same plants we use for medicinal purposes can, if administered in too high a dose, be toxic to humans. I have spent my life working with plants and herbs, learning how they affect humans when administered alone and in combination with other plants. It’s part of the Hawaiian tradition.”