‘Why are we going back there?’
‘Before we make the drive to Ito’s gallery, I want to see if Matt Frank is still at Hapuna.’
When they didn’t spot Frank’s pickup in the beach lot, Raveneau said, ‘Let’s pick up the can he was drinking from. I saw him put it down on top of a garbage can. But we need something to put it in.’
‘I’ve got a plastic bag in my purse and I’ll go get the can while you call Coe. I know where to look for it.’
Coe picked up on the first ring and asked, ‘Have you met with him?’
‘We left his house fifteen minutes ago. We’re on our way to interview a woman on the other end of the island and then we want to meet with him again. He’s nervous and agitated.’
‘You checked in with our satellite office?’
‘Yeah, they said call if we need backup. We’ll give them a call but what can you do to help us find out more about Casey?’
‘I’ll do what I can. I’ll call you.’
The can was still there. La Rosa had it with her as she walked back. By the time she reached the car he was off the phone. They drove south skirting Hilo and then the long grade on the road up to Volcanoes National Park. The gallery was set back among trees. They parked in a gravel lot across from an outdoor garden where it looked like pieces of sculpture were for sale. Inside the gallery were paintings and photographs. Many depicted scenes from the park up the road.
Raveneau spotted a woman in the back with a customer and couldn’t be certain it was her, but it looked like it was. She became aware of them but she was still in conversation with her customer. As they waited, Raveneau studied a black and white photograph of a small group of men at the edge of Kilauea Crater taken perhaps a hundred years ago. The starkness of the crater and the small figures of the men at the edge of it said something he couldn’t quite put a name to.
Then from behind him a voice said, ‘I like that photograph very much myself. In a scene that is so stark you realize what is fragile. Are you looking for a particular artist?’
‘We have an appointment with Aolani Ito.’
‘That’s me.’
It turned out Ito knew Thomas Casey as an islander whose family through a corporation had wrested control of a large block of ranchland and an even larger former sugar plantation in the interior. She believed Casey to be very wealthy and heard the money came from timber, coal, and land long before Casey was born.
‘I didn’t like him,’ she said. ‘He thought Jim wanted me there because I was pretty and young and it was all about sexual pleasure. He thought I was there to get away from my family and have a place to live for free and play at being an artist. He came on to me once and his way of doing that was to remind me that the land and the house and Jim being there was because of his generosity. But he inherited it all. He got Captain Jim into the land deal where he lost all his money.’
‘What about politics?’ la Rosa asked.
‘I didn’t listen to that. When they drank the things they said were all crazy. They would talk about killing like you would talk about picking fruit, as if it was normal to make plans and then kill your enemies. Even Captain Jim was that way but I didn’t listen too closely to any of that.’
Raveneau had divided the photos in half. One stack was face down. He showed her a photo of Krueger.
‘Do you recognize this man?’
‘Of course, that’s Alan. He and Captain Jim were good friends until they had an argument and I don’t really know what it was about, but it was Alan who was angry first. He was a gentle man. He was funny and kind and sort of sad. He was a government agent of some sort and there were other men that came with him sometimes. They also worked for the government. There were two of them. One in particular who came around more and several times on his own. He was careful not to talk too much around me. But he was nice.’
‘Would you look through the photos and tell me who you recognize?’
‘Sure.’
Raveneau handed her the partial stack printed from Matt Frank’s Facebook photos. She had barely looked through ten before she said, ‘These are from little Matt. He was so cute with the camera around his neck all the time. He saw a professional photographer and copied the movements. He was very serious and made everybody laugh, but look at these. He was good.’
She touched another photo.
‘I remember this man. He did things for them. He wanted to be like them and they told him stories. He was in the Air Force, I think, but something happened to his eyes and he couldn’t fly any more.’
‘Do you remember his name?’
‘I’m embarrassed I don’t. He came around to the parties. He was like a hanger-on. When they ran out of beer or rum they would send him to town.’
She slowly shuffled through the stack and Raveneau saw the younger woman in the hollows of her cheeks. Her eyes were lined, her features less distinct now, but she was still beautiful.
‘Are you looking for the two younger men you talked about?’
‘I am, but I’m not seeing them. One of them was careful not to let Matt photograph him. The other one didn’t seem to care but I don’t see him either.’
‘But they both came with Krueger?’
‘That’s what I remember, but I don’t know if it’s right. I associate them with Alan. They were sort of detached though and one came by more than the other, and then the other didn’t come by at all any more. They weren’t from the island.’
‘What were their names?’
‘Hmmm… I’m terrible at names.’
‘Was Alan called AK?’
‘Only by Jim, it was a joke about a gun. It was some joke between them that went back to the war in Vietnam. They were all in that together. Thomas was the serious one. He was the most damaged by whatever he did in the war. Jim had done things too he regretted and tried different ways to make them go away.’
‘The younger men in these photos weren’t in the Vietnam War.’
She looked up at him, dark eyes studying him. ‘You’re very interested in them,’ she said. ‘Why?’
‘I’m fishing. I’m looking for connections.’
‘Where is Matt now?’
‘He lives with Casey on the ranch and calls him Uncle Casey.’
‘So he didn’t get away. I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘He’s talking about moving. He’s got a business he’s working on.’
‘Will you give him my card and ask him to call me?’
‘Yes.’
She handed Raveneau a card and went slowly through all of the photos again, this time keeping many of her thoughts to herself. When she laid the photos down Raveneau told her about the videotape.
‘Would you be willing to watch it?’
‘How long is it?’
‘A couple of minutes but very graphic.’
La Rosa touched his arm and Raveneau handed her the car keys. Ito was talking again as la Rosa returned with the laptop.
‘Everybody, except me, called him Captain or Captain Frank. He was meant to be in a uniform, but also to be barefoot. He was not afraid to be who he was. I learned a lot from him. People said, he is your father’s age. He’s too old for you, but for me it was lucky I met him. He taught me how to live without fear.’
Ito turned quiet as la Rosa booted up the laptop.
‘Will I be able to forget this video later?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Then I want to sit quiet for a few minutes.’
Raveneau and la Rosa didn’t talk. Raveneau opened the tray and laid the CD in. He turned to her and she nodded. Then with something close to happiness in recognizing an old friend she said, ‘That looks like Alan but it’s not a very good video.’
‘No, it’s not good quality, but watch the man with him and I can freeze the screen at any point.’
