“Aw shucks, guys, it was nothing.” I sat on a chair on the other side of the bed from Sandra’s parents. “So, you’re going home?”
“I’m still pretty weak, but the doctor says I can recuperate at home just as well as here.” Sandra leaned forward. “Seriously, Kimo, there’s no way for me to thank you. For what you did for me, and for Cathy, too.”
“Please, you’re embarrassing me. I’m just glad you’re up and around. Soon, maybe, you can think about what you want to do with the project.”
“Charlie Stahl came over earlier this afternoon,” Sandra said. “You remember him from the party, don’t you? His family owns half of O’ahu. He’s donating office space, and startup funds to buy all new equipment. We’re going to be back in business on Monday. I’m taking some sick leave from the firm, so whatever I can manage I’ll do just for the project, for now.”
“We’ve been talking to your brother, too,” Cathy said. “He’s helping us arrange a press conference for Monday, just in time for the evening news. Charlie’s buying us an announcement in the Advertiser, too, so that we can get a big crowd, rally the troops and so on. It’s going to be in Waikiki Gateway Park, where Kuhio meets Kalakaua. You’ll come, won’t you?”
I agreed, and then begged off to go see my father. When I got to his room, Lui and Haoa were standing in the hallway outside his room arguing. “How do you think he’s doing, Kimo?” Haoa asked.
The collar of his aloha shirt was tucked in and I reached over and fixed it for him. “He seems to be getting better. He isn’t so cranky any more.”
“That’s just what I mean,” Lui said. Though it was Saturday, he was wearing his standard business suit. “You always know Dad is getting better the crankier he gets. He’s not acting like Dad now, he’s acting like a-like a sick person. I say we need to get him out of here ASAP.”
“He has to stay in the hospital until they finish all the tests,” Haoa said. “Then we’ll know what’s wrong with him.”
They were faced off against each other in the hallway. Haoa has two inches in height on Lui and about a hundred pounds in weight, but Lui has always been first boy so he retains a big psychological advantage. I hadn’t seen the two of them fight since they were teenagers and I wondered who would win. “Is it up to us?” I asked. “What about the doctors? What about Mom?”
Lui waved his hand. “You know Mom will listen to us.”
“Mom will listen to the doctors, and the doctors want Dad to stay here,” Haoa said.
I said, “Let me go in and see him. Then I’ll tell you what I think.”
“Good.” Haoa crossed his arms in front of him.
“Good.” Lui stalked down the hall toward the vending machines.
I went into the room. My father was lying back in the bed, my mother in the chair next to him. They were watching a game show on TV. “Well, at least you ate your lunch today.” I kissed him on the forehead, then leaned down and kissed my mother’s cheek. Most of the wires and tubes were gone, and except for one line running into his hand, and the faded hospital gown, he could have been home in bed.
“I’m glad you’re here, Kimo. Bring your brothers in. I want to talk to you about my will.”
“We’re not talking about wills.” Lui was right; there was definitely something wrong with my father’s attitude.
“I want to leave the business to Haoa because it matters to him, but I don’t want you and Lui to feel like I’m favoring him.”
This was very strange behavior. “You’re not leaving the business to anybody yet because you’re not leaving yet.”
I brought my brothers in then, and it took some talking, but we finally convinced him that whatever happened, the three of us would stand together, and there was no need to talk about wills at the present time.
My father’s cardiologist showed up, and we talked to him after he’d examined my father. The IV tube was delivering a course of medication, the doctor said, that would finish on Monday. Barring anything unforeseen, it would be safe to take my father home then.
We all agreed that would be fine, and that crisis averted, I said goodbye to my mother and brothers and went to the office. Even though I wasn’t on duty, I wanted to distribute the sketch of our potential bomber to the Vice guys, who could show it around to prostitutes and other contacts. But more important, I wanted to feel like I was doing something to solve the case.
EMOTIONAL INSIGHTS
On my way to headquarters I grabbed a sandwich and ate it at my desk as I went back over everything I’d collected so far, looking for anything I’d missed. While I was there, Frank Sit came up to speak with me.
He was the patrolman who’d seen the truck that shit-bombed the Marriage Project offices. I’d known him for a few years, working more closely with him when he was stationed on Waikiki, too. He was a stocky Chinese guy, in his late forties or early fifties, with a brush cut, a gut and a swagger.
“I saw that picture Lidia was showing around,” he said, coming over to sit at my desk. “I think I saw the guy.”
“Really? When?”
“First I gotta tell you how come I didn’t do anything about that truck with the missing plates. I was at the corner of Ward and Waimanu when I noticed this Volvo station wagon full of hippies ahead of me had Massachusetts plates with an expired tag. I turned on my flashers and pulled them over.”
He took a sip of department coffee, and made a face. “You won’t believe this. The driver, this shaggy-haired guy, had an expired Massachusetts driver’s license that said his name was Eddie Christ. Turns out the other guys were Christ too, Stan Christ in the front, and Jordan and Fritz Christ in the back. Jordan was black; the other three were haole.” He went on to tell me that all four of them were in their mid-twenties, wearing jeans and T-shirts. They were on a mission from Jesus, who was their brother, to deliver herbal tea to the islands.
“The back of the wagon was filled with boxes of the tea. I told the guy he had to have a driver’s license, even if he was on a mission from Christ, and he launched into this long explanation. That’s when I saw the pickup without plates pass by. I had my hands full with the Christ brothers, though, so I radioed in a description.”
He put the cup of coffee down on my desk. “But you know how it is. There wasn’t anybody else in the vicinity, so the truck got away. And you know what? Each of those Christ guys had different IDs, and outstanding warrants. Took me hours to get them all into the holding cells and squared away.”
“What about the guy in the picture, though?” I asked. “Was he one of the Christ brothers?”
Sit shook his head. “That was later, after I was back on the street. I was cruising past the YMCA when I saw this sedan parked on the street, a man and a woman in the front seat. At first I thought it might be a prostitute, so I went up to talk to them.”
I still had reams of paper to go through. But I knew if I rushed him he’d get cranky and I might never get the whole story. I straightened a couple of pieces of paper on my desk as I waited for him to continue.
“Woman gave me a story about waiting for a kid to come out of the Y,” he said. “At the time, I didn’t think anything of it. By the time that bomb went off, I’d forgotten all about them. Then when Lidia was showing the picture around, I thought that might be the guy.”
“Was he wearing a tux?”
“Didn’t get that clear a look, but definitely a dark jacket and a white shirt.”
“You get any information on the car-plate number, make and model?”
He frowned. “If I’d thought it was a john, I’d have done it, but the woman, she looked-you know, young and professional. Not like a working girl.”
“Thanks, Frank. This is good info anyway. Now we know he has a partner, a woman, and both of them were in the area at the time.” The Y was just around the corner from the Marriage Project offices; it would have been easy for the woman to pull up there and wait for the bomber to do his business and then return. From the time Frank described, and the timing mechanism Mike had found on the bomb, I figured they were waiting to make sure the bomb went off before leaving.
