Tatiana had drawn herself. I couldn’t be completely sure, but I thought it looked remarkably like the guy I’d seen at the party. But was he our bomber? So far the only thing indicting him was his sweatiness.
A fax came in from Mike Riccardi, listing all the ingredients in the bomb. Depressingly, I recognized almost all of them, and knew that you could find almost everything on the list in any ordinary kitchen or garage. But just seeing his name at the top of the fax gave me a nice little boost.
Lidia came by with a copy of the autopsy report on Wilson Shira I’d asked her to pick up at the medical examiner’s office. She seemed excited by the chance to participate in the investigation, or maybe it was just seeing Doc Takayama. Apparently he’d taken the time to go over the report with her. I figured it was seeing him that brought that sparkle to her brown eyes, rather than the details of the charred corpse. I wondered what they’d talk about if they ever went on a date, if they’d share notes about dead bodies over pasta and wine, like Mike and I had.
I was happy to see that she and Doc were taking an interest in each other. “So tell me, officer, did you dig up anything by canvassing the offices around the Marriage Project?”
She pulled out her note pad. “By the time of the party, all the offices in the area were closed, so I couldn’t find anyone who had been around who hadn’t already spoken to an officer.” She looked up. “But I did find something interesting.”
“Spill.”
“Around three-thirty the receptionist at a computer place across the street was coming back to the office with cappuccino for her boss, and she saw this pickup truck slow down, and a guy in the bed of the truck started throwing paper bags on the sidewalk in front of the Marriage Project. She’s pretty sure he broke a window there, too. Then the truck drove away. She said she was so surprised that she didn’t think to get a license number.”
“We’re tying the pieces together, Lidia.” I told her about the paper bag Robert had given me. “Good work.”
“Anything else I can do to help?”
I handed her the list of ingredients Mike had faxed over. “See what you can do with this. Most of the stuff is pretty common, but you never know when you’ll come up with something.” I thought for a minute. “It’s a long shot, but my friend Gunter says the tuxedo the sweaty guy was wearing looked rented.” I handed her the yellow pages and said, “Want to give it a try? You can use the desk over there.”
Within a half-hour, Lidia had a list of formal wear rental places, and she left to show around the sketch of the sweaty guy. She agreed to stop downstairs and leave a stack of the sketches for the beat cops on all three shifts; maybe one of them might recognize our guy.
I spent the next hours on the phone. I found out the fingerprint lab had lifted one print, probably a middle finger, from the paper bag that had gone through the window of the Marriage Project’s office. They were running it through their computers, but since it was Friday, they didn’t expect to get a match before the first of the week. They also had the piece of pipe Mike’s investigators had found, but they were still working on it.
I had a couple of reports from beat cops in the district, but only one seemed interesting. Around the time the Marriage Project had been shit-bombed, an officer named Frank Sit had seen a dirty pickup truck with a couple of guys in the back, without a license plate. He’d called it in, but no units had been able to respond. He did remember the back gate had been broken in a distinctive way. That was quite possibly the truck the receptionist had seen outside the Marriage Project’s office.
One of the secretaries picked up a plate lunch for me from a vendor outside and I sat at my desk and ate. I was just finishing when Kitty Sampson walked in. She wore a blue UH T-shirt, a pair of cargo shorts and huarache sandals. On her right arm jangled half a dozen bracelets, some set with gemstones, others carved in intricate patterns.
“If you’re looking for your dad, he’s not here,” I said. “He went to some kind of statewide police conference in Hilo. The secretary out front might know how to reach him, though.”
“I know he’s not here.” She sat next to my desk. “That’s why I came in today. I wanted to talk to you, and he’d kill me if he knew.”
“That doesn’t sound good. What’s the problem?”
“I’m a lesbian. Jim and I don’t talk about it, but I’m sure he knows.”
I was surprised, more by the fact that she called him Jim than by her revelation. Since I came out, gay people have become very open with me. It’s like, they know I am, and they want to level the playing field right from the start.
“And you’re here because…”
“I want to help you investigate the bombing Wednesday night.”
“Whoa,” I said, holding up my hand. “Let’s take this one step at a time. You didn’t witness anything, did you?”
She shook her head. “But I’ve been pumping Jim for everything he knows about the case, and I have an idea. You know that Reverend White and his wife? The ones who are preaching against gay marriage all the time?”
I nodded. “We’re looking into them. Investigating everybody who’s expressed opposition to the lawsuit.”
“They came to preach at UH last week,” she said. “A friend and I went to hear them, just to know what they were saying. And I can’t say exactly how, but I know they’re involved.”
“I appreciate the advice. I’ll take a good look at them.”
“You won’t be able to find anything out. They know you’re gay.”
“The whole island knows I’m gay. Sometimes I think the whole state. But that hasn’t stopped my investigation yet.”
“You need someone on the inside.” She waved her arm, and the bracelets clacked against each other. “Nobody knows I’m gay, not really. I want to volunteer to help them, get into their circle. I’m sure I can find out what’s going on.”
I shook my head. “I just can’t let you do that.”
“I want to be a cop,” she said. “I’ve been watching Jim since I was a little kid, seeing what it is that he does. And I can be good, too. I can pass every physical test the academy gives already, and I’ve got my marksmanship certificate. But I know that when people see me they think of me as Jim’s daughter. I don’t want anybody to think I’m crawling along on his coattails. I’ve been working on this paper, on the relationship between religious cults and violent activity, and if I can tie the Church of Adam and Eve to the bombing then I can win the essay prize in criminal justice, and nobody can say I did that because of who my stepfather is.”
“I can see you’re serious. But you’ve got to recognize that if somebody in that church is responsible, then it’s way too dangerous for you to get involved.”
“It’s too dangerous to sit back and let them keep on killing.” She leaned forward. “I can’t do that. I’m going to join up with them, whether you help me or not. I have to do it.”
“Your father would kill both of us if he knew.”
“I’m not going to tell him. You’re not either, are you?”
I sighed. “You’re putting me in a terrible position.”
“They’ve got a worship session Sunday at that storefront they use for a church. I’m going to go and talk to people.”
I thought about it for a minute. Sampson would kill me with his bare hands if I let something happen to Kitty. But she had a point; somebody needed to get into the Church of Adam and Eve and see what was going on.
“I’ll go with you.”
When she started to protest, I held up my hand. “There is no way I’m letting you do this by yourself. These people are malihinis, after all. They think all islanders look alike. I’ll get myself enough of a disguise to pass. And it’ll be easier for you to blend in if you’re my wife, than if you’re a single girl.”
She thought about it. Finally she nodded, and we agreed to meet on Sunday morning before the church service. “But you know,” she said, “you don’t have to worry about me. I know how to keep a secret. After all, I’m gay, aren’t I?”
I had to admit she had a point.
HERE’S THE AIRPLANE
