Linda Kahala's blood, either from the body or clothing.”
His small eyes pinched at this. “What're you saying?”
“ I'm not saying that I think he had anything to do with the Kahala girl's killing. He put his hands on some item that was covered in her blood. Most likely her clothing.”
He thought about this, how close his son had come to being the hero in this story without heroes.
“ News like that could be twisted,” he said.
“ I'm well aware of that, and so are my lab people.”
“ But they're not your lab people, are they? They're Parry's people. How can you trust strangers?”
She gazed questioningly at him. “You knew the exact time when I landed at the airport, and now you've learned where I'm staying. Mr. Kaniola, maybe I should be frightened of you.”
“ You have nothing to fear from me. I want only that my son be honored, and his killer brought to justice.”
“ In the meantime, what're you paying Mr. Lau for information?” She'd taken a calculated shot. His reaction was bull's-eye, not in words but in body language.
“ I pay Lau nothing.” He clenched his teeth as if insulted.
“ Not even in beer?”
“ Lau is my sister's son.”
“ Your nephew?” She dropped her gaze and drained her tea, which had turned to water. “I think I've said enough.”
“ But you've told me nothing. How soon will you and Parry find this madman?”
“ What's really going on here, Mr. Kaniola? Island vigilantes at work?”
“ You shock me!”
“ You find the name of the killer, and then you and your pals can work a little island justice? Is that it?”
“ I have a right to know what is being done about this matter!” His shout startled people all around them. She got up to leave, ignoring his repeated apologies and his bodyguard. As she walked away, he said firmly, “I will see vengeance done. I have a right to see it done. I am an American, too, Dr. Coran.”
She rushed toward the elevator and her room, strangers on all sides of her now taking on a sinister form. How many of them were working as Kaniola's eyes? How many people were watching her? She had thought someone back at the Aloha Tower was watching her, but she had cast off the notion as preposterous. Now this.
She wondered how deeply Joseph Kaniola's frustration and anger ran. Just how far might he go if he learned who the killer was before she and Parry did?
When she got to her room and locked the door behind her, she wondered if perhaps she hadn't overreacted. Yet something in Kaniola's eyes, his manner, told her otherwise. She wondered if she should not tell Parry about the incident.
She undressed and showered, the tension draining from her, leaving her pleasantly empty; empty of thoughts of homicide, autopsies and Kaniola, of Lau's obvious deceit, and other pestering, thorny problems she'd have to face tomorrow. For now she'd get the sleep she had missed the night before, wake refreshed and be prepared for the next day far better than she had been equipped for this one.
God, why'd I say anything to Kaniola? she chastised herself. “Might've known better.” He was, after all, a newsman, and no matter his race, the story was more important than food, water and truth. Sure, he professed a father's concern, and no doubt he was absolutely sincere in this instance, but he still remained a newspaperman.
She half expected and feared that tomorrow's Ala Ohana newspaper would run a story telling everyone of the FBI suspicions she had shared with Kaniola. ParTy would have her head. It was too soon to release such information, and it might backfire on all of them, including Joseph Kaniola.
She toyed with the idea of trying to reach Jim Parry, to tell him of her encounter with Kaniola and what she had foolishly revealed to him. She thought about it but decided doing nothing was, for the moment, best.
It was early yet, 6 P.M., but she was exhausted, and the single drink she'd shared with Parry, at island proof, had left her mellow, perhaps why she'd been such easy pickings for Kaniola. She wondered now how worried she should be. Either way, she'd locate the pool, do some laps, come back up and sleep on it.
8
There is in God. some say,
A deep but dazzling darkness.
After dropping Dr. Coran at the Rainbow, Chief Parry met Tony Gagliano a block from the Kahala residence, where they sat for a moment in Tony's unit. Tony was wearing a freshly cleaned, midnight-blue flowered Hawaiian shirt, his usual attire, along with loose-fitting dungarees.
“ So what's new?” Tony asked. “Anything developing I ought to know about? Anything at all? Like are you or are you not seeing Dr. Coran on other than work-related business, Boss?”
“ No, no and no,” Parry replied. He changed the subject to the victim's boyfriend. “How'd you fare with the background check on George Oniiwah?”
“ The kid's squeaky clean, Jim?”
'Too clean or just clean?”
“ Well, as clean as it gets, let's say. He's liapa Japa, as they say.”
“ What's his being half Japanese got to do with anything?”
“ Jim, when's the last time you arrested a Jap?”
“ What?”
“ Think about it, seriously.”
Parry gave it a moment's thought. “Can't say that I ever have.”
“ That's what I realized after talking to this kid. I bet the HPD wouldn't Find many arrests of Japs on their books either. It's not that they don't do crime like everybody else, but when they're good, they're very good, if you know what I mean.”
“ If they're into crime, they cover their behinds, I know, but what about the other half of this guy?”
Gagliano pulled his wallet out, absently checked how much cash he had on him and put it away. “Any rate, Georgie's clean. I mean he may be into smoking weed, doing a hit once in a while, maybe selling burn bags out of his dorm room, maybe; but he doesn't come over as any sort of maniac or hard-assed killer.”
“ Christ, Tony, neither did Jeffrey Dahmer to the cops who interviewed him just before he killed and fried up parts of his last meal.”
“ Hey, you maybe have to trust me on this one, Boss.”
“ You like this, don't you?”
“ What?”
“ Yankin' my chain, damn you.”
“ Come on, Jimbo. All I'm sayin' is that this guy don't shine like a hardcase. Japan's home for his father's parents, but the kid was bom here, an American, the good ol' U.S. of A. Mother is Hawaiian, some sort of social worker; father's big in the computer programming business, makes a bundle for-get this-General Fucking Electric.”
“ And so the kid's well off and attends the university, the big campus?”
“ Right, and get this: He not only knew Linda but also another of the victims, Kia Wailea.”
“ She was also attending classes.”
“ Right, and according to the kid, it was Kia who led Linda into the part-time-prostitution business down on the strip. Linda got off work at nine. So what's she doing on Ala Wai at midnight the night she disappeared? It's
