“She wasn’t living with you,” I said, “when…”
“No,” she interrupted. “No. When I got up and around, and was feeling better, this little house was just too small for all of us. My younger sister, Helene, was with her…Helene’s since gone back to Long Island, to be with my father, who was too ill to travel here…and Mother rented a place of her own.”
Leisure spoke, for the first time since the interrogation had begun. “Did you have any part in the abduction of Joseph Kahahawai, Mrs. Massie?”
Thalia looked at him sharply. “None! The first I knew anything of it was when Seaman Jones came to my door, the morning of the incident.”
“Before or after the killing?” I asked.
“After! He rushed in and handed me a gun and said, ‘Here, take this—Kahahawai has been killed.’ And I said, ‘Where’s Tommie?’ And he said he’d sent Tommie off with Mother to…to dispose of the body.”
And she just sat there impassively, with no more expression on her face than a bisque baby’s.
“Then what did this seaman do?” Darrow asked.
“He asked me to make him a drink, a highball. And I did.”
“A man had been killed, Mrs. Massie,” I said. “By your husband and your mother.”
“I’m sorry the man was shot,” she said, and shrugged. “But it was no more than he deserved.”
Then she apologized for her “earlier rudeness” and asked if we’d like anything to drink. Her maid had made a pitcher of iced tea, if anyone was interested.
“Beatrice!” she called.
And the pretty, efficient little maid came in with a pitcher of tea with floating lemons and a tray of glasses.
“You know,” Thalia said, “I sometimes wonder why they didn’t just kill me—it would have been so much easier for all concerned, in the long run…. I hope you like your tea sweetened, in the Southern style.”
5
Isabel needed some fresh air, so we stepped outside while Darrow chatted with Thalia Massie—nothing directly to do with the case, just small talk about naval life at Pearl and her experiences taking courses at the University of Hawaii, even garnering recommendations from her about restaurants in Honolulu. Darrow liked to make his clients feel comfortable with him, think of him as a friend.
And while Thalia wasn’t exactly a client, her role in this case was crucial. Darrow was turning on his charm, his warmth, on this apparently cold-blooded girl.
“How’s Thalo doing?” Pop Olds asked. The lieutenant was sitting on the steps of the front stoop, several ground-out cigarette butts on the sidewalk nearby.
“All right I think,” I said. “Hard to tell—she’s a very self-contained young woman.”
Olds got to his feet, shook his head. “Hard on her, out here. She gets pretty lonely.”
“Isn’t she spending any time with her husband?” I asked. “I understand he and the others are in custody of the Navy, not the local coppers. Can’t she get access to him?”
“Oh, yes,” Olds said. “That part of it’s fine, anyway. Tommie and Mrs. Fortescue and the two sailors are on the U.S.S.
I frowned. “What, out at sea?”
He chuckled. “No. It’s an old warship stuck in the mud in the harbor. It’s used as temporary living quarters for transient personnel.”
“I don’t think this is healthy,” I said, “her being stuck out here in seclusion. She puts up a hell of a front, but…”
Isabel hugged my arm. “Maybe she’ll be better with me around.”
“Maybe. The last thing we need is our chief witness committing suicide.”
Isabel drew in a fast breath. “Suicide…”
“I’ve had some experience in that area,” I said. “She needs some company. Some companionship.”
“Well,” Olds said thoughtfully, “the ammunition depot’s located on a little island in the middle of the harbor, and that’s where my quarters are. My wife and I have one of the few houses on base.”
“Do you have room for Thalia?” I asked.
“Certainly. I’m not sure we could accommodate Miss Bell, here, as well….”
I patted Isabel’s hand. “I think Mr. Darrow could arrange housing for Miss Bell at the Royal Hawaiian.”
Isabel kept her face troubled, but she was hugging my arm enthusiastically now. “Well,” she said, trying to sound disappointed, “I really would like to be at Thalo’s side, through this…”
“You’d be welcome at Pearl, anytime,” Olds said. “You could spend every day with your cousin, if you like. You’d just have to find someplace else to sleep.”
“We can manage that,” I said with a straight face. “I’ll run this idea past Mr. Darrow, and let you know before we leave.”
Darrow was delighted by the suggestion, and Thalia liked the idea, too. Pop Olds said he’d put the plan in motion—Admiral Stirling was sure to give his okay—but for the time being, Isabel would stay behind with Thalia. This was where Isabel’s belongings were being delivered.
