Moonlight Cocktail

by William Cassidy

  “So where does Lance Forbes come into the picture? No pun intended.”

  “Well said, Jack. You always come up with just the right words.”

  “Spare me the bullshit, Dave.”

  “Here’s why I won’t wager with you. She asked Lance to review the Hitchcock-type screenplay with ‘Akia in it as well as the screenplay for the movie they’re filming out here to get a second opinion. She wanted to make sure she wasn’t off base. That’s how conscientious she is, and that’s how much she cared about Derek’s career.”

  “So what did Lance say?”

  “Not only did Lance agree with her that the Hitchcock alternative was clearly better, he tried to persuade her to leave Derek and marry him.”

  “What was her response to that?”

  “She rejected it out of hand and told him she’d never leave Derek. Loretta thinks Lance convinced himself that she could get big movie parts for him if they were married. And that he wouldn’t mind sharing her big bank account either.”

  “Big movie parts and a big bank account, I assume, that he couldn’t get on his own. So he went off, with a head start because he’d read the screenplay that Derek selected and then got a minor role in the movie. And he knew about the poisonous Hawaiian plant from the other screenplay that Loretta had also given him to read. Poor old Derek’s days were numbered at that point,” Jack said, shaking his head.

  “To use one of your favorite words, Jack, Bingo! The evidence you’ve turned up will prove, I’m sure, that Lance then decided to take matters into his own hands and remove the obstacle to his aspirations, namely Derek Reynolds.”

  “So when are you going to arrest him, Dave?”

  “Right now, based on Kulani’s identification of him as the guy who ran him off the road. We’ve got the tread marks; we’ll do the comparison of his fingerprints from the cocktail glass with those on the Taurus tonight; and we should have the DNA from his cigarettes analyzed in a week or so. I may even mention that to him to get the discussion going.”

  “Great!”

  “Jack, we might have solved this crime without you, but we might not have. At a minimum, it would have taken us a lot longer, and you know what happens when evidence gets stale.”

  “I do.”

  “Thanks, old buddy. Now go grab Grant and get back to the Club for a drink. I’ll meet you there later if I can. I’ve got some business left to conduct with Mr. Forbes this evening.”

  “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to call Katherine and tell her the news.”

  “You can tell her in person. I already called my wife and asked her to call Katherine and Georgia and have them meet us at the Club at nine. One way or another, I knew we were all going to want a drink tonight.”

  “What did you tell them was the occasion?”

  “I told him that this was the 241st anniversary of the day that Captain Cook first sighted the Hawaiian Islands.”

  “Is it?”

  “I don’t know, but it sounds close enough to celebrate.”

  “Did they buy it?”

  “No, but I also told them we’d be having drinks under the stars.”

  “Moonlight cocktails.”

  “It gets them every time.”

  “It sure does.”

  EPILOGUE

  Peter Dillingham was beside himself on Monday afternoon as he directed guests to their tables around the Mai Tai Bar on the lanai at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel. He was, at the same time, checking with the technicians who were testing the radio broadcasting equipment and internet connection, listening to the musicians who were tuning their slack guitars and ukuleles, and giving directions to the Hawaiian dancers who would perform a hula for everyone in the Mai Tai Bar. When he saw Jack and Katherine arrive, he breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Am I ever glad to see you two!”

  “Why?” Jack asked. “We wouldn’t miss this broadcast for the world.”

  “I know. It’s Arthur Fairbanks. He’s been running around, asking for you ever since he got here, thirty minutes ago I might add.”

  “What’s he concerned about?” Jack asked.

  “He’s heard some of the details about the Derek Reynolds murder but he wants to get the full story from you.”

  Peter showed Jack and Katherine to his table directly in front of the broadcasting table where microphones, headphones, and computer monitors had been placed in preparation for the new edition of Hawaii’s radio broadcast to the world. A cheer went up as they arrived, and Gordon and Georgia Grant, Arthur Fairbanks, and Commander Tom Butler and Hypatia Adams rose to welcome the Sullivan’s.

  “What’s all this about?” Jack asked, looking embarrassed.

  “Sullivan, you are the hero of the day and probably the year,” Gordon Grant announced in his inimitable style. “McNeil has spread the word all over town that you solved the mystery of Derek Reynolds’ murder.”

  “Oh, I just helped with some technical research and follow-up stuff.”

  “That’s not the way Dave tells it. He says that without your help, the police might not have solved this one at all.”

  “I seriously doubt that, Gordo.”

  “No, it’s true,” boomed the unmistakable voice of Dave McNeil, as he and his wife Nicole joined the group.

  “My favorite golfing partner does not embellish, that I can state with certainty,” Gordon Grant added.

  “Jack, I’ve taken the liberty of telling a few people around town how much you helped us. I hope you don’t mind,” said McNeil.

  “I wish you hadn’t, Dave. I’d like to remain an anonymous lawyer and coffee farmer, as George Lane so graciously referred to me last night.”

  “Oh, Jack, I heard about that bloody remark from Sidney,” said Arthur, “and she cut him to ribbons on the way home from the memorial service. I’m sure you’ll get an apology the next time you see the Lane’s,” said Arthur. “And, by the way, Jack, Sidney also told me that she wants to have you back soon to see some new shrubs that George planted after your visit to replace the Dieffenbachia that a neighbor’s dog was chewing daily, much to the detriment of his vocal cords, which have been paralyzed ever since.”

  “No apology is necessary. In fact, the “lawyer turned farmer” image has a certain Jeffersonian quality about it that I rather like.”

  “If only your Mr. Jefferson hadn’t been so exuberant, you Yanks might still be enjoying the benefits of British citizenship,” Arthur proclaimed.

  “Thank you for that diplomatic note, Arthur. We really must get you a copy of the Declaration of Independence,” Gordon replied laughing.

  “You know, I think last night brought a lot of feelings to the surface,” said Hypatia. “Even Jennifer admitted this morning that she should have restrained herself at the memorial for Derek.”

  “Well,” Dave McNeil interjected, “if you want to hear about things rising to the surface, I can tell you that Lance Forbes erupted like a volcano last night when I confronted him with the evidence Jack dug up. By ten o’clock, he had told me the whole story. Talk about self-delusion, he actually thought Loretta would marry him if Derek was out of the picture. And he really thought he could pull it off. He didn’t tell Loretta a thing about it.”

  “He certainly is a bloody odd choice for a murderer,” said Arthur.

  “They all are, Arthur,” Dave said.

  “Dave, my good man, how did he do it, I mean mechanically?” Arthur asked.

  “It wasn’t complicated. Kulani said that Forbes was sitting at the bar for most of the evening with his back toward the bar.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, Forbes said he watched the waitresses and kept tabs on Derek’s drinks. And the crowd was so large that Kulani sometimes had to hand him Mai Tai’s to pass to waitresses who couldn’t get close to the bar. One waitress yelled to Kulani that she needed a Mai Tai for Mr. Reynolds. I guess she wanted to make sure that Kulani made one of his best drinks for the guest of honor. Kulani handed the drink to Lance, and Lance kept it a
nd passed the Mai Tai in his other hand, which he had already laced with ‘Akia, to the waitress. With the crowd and the noise from conversation and music, no one noticed. It was that simple.”

  “How did he mix the poison with the Mai Tai without anyone seeing him?” Arthur asked.

  “Believe it or not, he took a Mai Tai into the Men’s Room, went into a stall and sat down, and then poured the poison from a small bottle he had in his pocket,” Dave explained.

  “That’s probably what Rich Stanley heard,” Jack added.

  “I’ll bet it was,” Katherine agreed.

  “But how did Forbes know he’d have that kind of opportunity?” Arthur asked.

  “He didn’t. He just thought he might have a chance at the party and decided he would take it if he got it. If the opportunity hadn’t come up the way it did, he’d have waited for another occasion.”

  “I’d forgotten how banal so many crimes are,” Jack said.

  “But why did he run Kulani off the road? Did he think Kulani knew what he’d done?” Arthur asked.

  “This guy is not an experienced criminal, and this was his first leap into the underworld. He got very scared afterwards and decided to make sure that the one man who knew he’d been at the bar all night, near the drinks while they were being made, and who had also seen him handling some of them, wouldn’t be available to identify him. Fortunately for Kulani, and for us, he wasn’t successful.”

  Arthur Fairbanks then turned to Jack and asked,

  “How did you untwist it all, Jack? Did you have any other suspects?”

  “I did, Arthur, each of whom had motive, means and opportunity, but the more I learned about Derek, the more I learned about Lance. I guess I just got lucky.”

  With that, Gordon Grant stood up and raised his glass in a toast.

  “To Jack Sullivan, my lawyer, the newest coffee farmer in the Sandwich Islands, and a damn good detective.”

  The entire table toasted Jack, and he responded with an obvious blush. Then he stood up himself to offer a toast.

  “To the most wonderful group of friends two émigrés from the east coast could ever hope to find. And to these beautiful islands, that will always hold mysteries it will be a pleasure to solve.”

  As they raised their glasses in response to Jack’s toast, the mellifluous tones of Peter Dillingham’s voice floated over their table as he spoke into the microphone.

  “Good Evening, Ladies and Gentlemen around the globe, ‘This Is Hawaii,’ and we are broadcasting to the world from the Mai Tai Bar at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel on Honolulu’s beautiful Waikiki Beach.”

  Jack looked at Katherine, drew her toward him, kissed her, and whispered quietly in her ear.

  “I knew we were going to like it here.”

  “So did I,” she whispered as she pulled him closer.

  THE END