Damned in Paradise

She made a throaty sound that was almost a laugh. “You’re guessing. These are just more stupid rumors, more silly scurrilous stories…”

“No. You were seen talking with Sammy right before you walked out of the Ala Wai into the night—right after you slapped Lt. Stockdale for calling you a…well, for insulting you. You see, Sammy wasn’t discreet, Thalia. He told friends in his crowd about his affair with you…and he told them what he saw.”

“Nobody saw anything,” she snapped, but her eyes weren’t sure.

“Sammy saw Bradford follow you, and he followed along behind Bradford while you two were arguing. Sammy also saw the carload of cruising kanakas pull along the curb and give you the wolf whistle…saw and heard you egg ’em on, too, probably to make Bradford jealous. Well, Bradford took off, and when Sammy saw who these boys were…” I tapped the photos of Lyman and Kaikapu. “…he knew you were in a jam. These were mean, nasty, low-down criminal boys. Sammy rushed up, tried to help you, got shoved away. That’s part of the story you never mentioned, isn’t it, Thalia? Sammy’s presence. You couldn’t include him, could you? Not without your fling with a colored boy getting out. Couldn’t mention Bradford, either—that very night, when the police had arrested him, you assured him that you wouldn’t involve him, told him not to worry.”

Her mouth and chin trembled; her eyes were shining wetly. “I was abducted. I was beaten. I was raped.”

I shrugged. “Maybe you were raped…”

“Maybe!” She lurched toward me, on the couch, flew at me with her fists raised, ready to pummel me, but I clutched her wrists and her face was inches from mine, emotions passing across her face in waves: rage, shame, despair….

I felt the fight go out of her and released her.

She backed away, and said, almost gasped, “I…I…am going to be sick.”

And she ran to the bathroom and slammed the door. The sound of her retching made Darrow shiver. I was having trouble feeling sorry for her.

“You’re too harsh with her,” he whispered, raising a hand. “Try to remember she’s in hell.”

“Joe Kahahawai’s in the ground,” I reminded him. “And you don’t believe in hell, remember?”

“Oh, I believe in hell, Nate. It’s right here on Earth…and she’s in it. Go easy.”

“There’s a good chance the reason she got her jaw broken,” I said, “was she wouldn’t come across for those guys. Because of things Sammy said to ’em when he tried to intervene, Lyman and Kaikapu probably realized they had hold of a Navy wife, not a hooker or some loose lady. So they roughed her up, snatched her purse, and dumped her ass out.”

“Or they may have raped her.”

“They may have,” I granted.

The sound of the toilet flushing announced Thalia’s imminent return.

“We need her as an ally,” Darrow reminded me.

I nodded and drew in a breath as the bathroom door opened and she walked slowly toward us, head down, shoulders stooped, as if shame were weighing her down.

She took her place on the sofa but sat as far away from me as she could.

“I was raped,” she said quietly, both pride and a tremor in her voice. “By Joe Kahahawai and Horace Ida and those others…” She pointed to the pictures on the table. “… not by them.”

“According to Sammy,” I said, “it was Lyman and Kaikapu who dragged you in the ragtop. There was another boy along, but nobody has a name for him; a Filipino kid.”

“Where…where is Sammy?”

“In Los Angeles.”

“But you talked to him?”

“How I got this information isn’t important.”

“What is,” Darrow interjected, “is that if Nate here could dig it out, so could somebody else. There’s been a reorganization among the police, and a second Ala Moana trial would mean a new, full-scale investigation. The governor is talking about bringing in the FBI.”

She frowned, swallowed.

“Thalia,” I said, “it’s not your fault some incompetent cops put the wrong boys on a platter and served ’em up to you. They practically forced you to ID Ida and the rest.”

Her eyes were narrowed; she was thinking. Darrow was smiling at me—I was finally going easier. But I didn’t want to. I knew there was another strong possible reason for Thalia identifying the wrong boys: Sammy may have told her not to ID Lyman and Kaikapu, because it would put both their lives in danger.

But she had to finger somebody to protect her good name, her honor as the wife of a naval officer, her stature as a member of a prominent family. Maybe she figured the Ala Moana boys would never be convicted; but as rumors began to fly, she desperately needed to sacrifice these innocent boys (just “niggers,” after all) at the altar of her reputation and her marriage.

That’s what I wanted to throw in her face.

Instead, I said, “Protect yourself. Leave the Island. The Navy’ll give Tommie stateside duty, you can bet on that. Put this ugly nonsense behind you.”

Darrow leaned forward and patted her folded hands. “He’s right, dear. It’s time…time to go home.”