Hu’s.
“You may finish the detective off,” Mr. Hu said, and a warm hand encircled my dick. It took just a few strokes and I was creaming-but without pleasure, just a release from pain.
Mr. Hu unsnapped the handcuffs, and as I rubbed my wrists he said, “You may remove your blindfold, Kimo.” The guy behind me moved away, and it was all I could do not to slump against the wall. I untied the silk and turned around, expecting donkey dick to be butt ugly.
But he wasn’t. He was incredibly handsome, with sandy blond hair and one of the best bodies I’d ever seen, the kind that took hours in the gym to sculpt. Bulging biceps, a six-pack at the waist, thick thighs. He could have stepped out of the pages of a gay porn magazine.
“This is Lucas. I paid him $250 to fuck your ass. I hope you enjoyed it.”
I shifted on my feet. My ass hurt, felt distended and uncomfortably liquid. “I hope you enjoyed watching it.”
Lucas pulled the soggy condom off his dick and took a washcloth from Mr. Hu to clean up. My dick had deflated, and though on an average day I could have stared at Lucas for hours, jerking myself over and over again, all I wanted to do was put my clothes on and get out of that place.
By the time I got home I knew there was something wrong. My ass was bleeding and the pain was worse than anything I’d experienced before. I called Gunter’s cell phone and dragged him away from a hot boy at the Rod and Reel Club. He made me pull my pants down and bend over, and as soon as I did, he said, “This is beyond anything I can do for you, pal. You’re going to the ER.”
“No way.”
“Yes way. Give me your keys. I’m driving.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, I know a very discreet ER on the road to Kailua. Nobody’s going to know anything.”
He picked up my keys and jingled them in his hand. “But you are going to tell me every detail.”
Of course I didn’t. I told him Mr. Hu had used a huge dildo on me. It seemed better than telling the truth, that a gay prostitute with a donkey dick had fucked me into oblivion while Mr. Hu watched and jerked himself off. I don’t know why I didn’t just tell Gunter the truth; but then when he told Harry and my brothers I was glad I’d made up the story.
Looking at the photo of Lucas, I could see the effects the drugs had on him, in the paleness of his face, the way he looked a little skinnier than his frame should have allowed. I worried once more that this investigation was coming uncomfortably close to my personal life.
WHERE ALL ROADS LEAD
“You recognize this guy?” Ray asked.
I nodded. “He was a hustler. I heard him called Lucas. He’s the one who gave my name to Vice.”
“Anything in the folder?”
I looked. Steve Hart hadn’t found much. He didn’t have an ID on the victim-but then he hadn’t had the inside information I had. And I could empathize with him; I had two dead Chinese girls on my sheet who didn’t have names, either.
The autopsy results showed that Lucas had died from a single bullet to the head, in the same way that Norma Ching and the two Chinese girls had been killed. Tox screens revealed that he was an ice user, high at the time of death. He had also tested positive for syphilis.
“Shit,” I said. That was all I needed. I remembered that Lucas had used a condom that night, but he’d also tongue-fucked me and jerked me off. Had he had syphilis then? I’d had enough experience with STDs thanks to Mike and the gonorrhea he had passed me. I didn’t need syphilis on top of it.
“What’s the matter?” Ray asked.
I didn’t want to tell him. But I’d already lied too much, to myself, my family, and friends. “This is not a story I want to tell in the middle of the station,” I said. “Come on, let’s take a ride.”
Ray shrugged and said, “Sure.” We didn’t talk much as I drove us up toward Black Point. We rolled up all the flaps to enjoying the fresh air from some trade winds blowing in off the ocean with the promise of a bright, sunny winter.
“Fancy neighborhood,” Ray said, as we started up the street where Mr. Hu’s mansion was located.
“All lava underneath here,” I said. “Hence the name. They say when King Kamehameha arrived from the big island, his war canoes stretched all the way from here to Hawai’i Kai.”
“The homicide department doesn’t work out for you, you could always get a gig as a tour guide.”
“You like this neighborhood? ’Cause I’m happy to let you out.”
“No, no, continue the tour,” he said, holding up his hand.
Whenever my personal life spilled over into my job, I got irritable. I’d been cautioned by Lieutenant Sampson about finding the appropriate balance between my work and my sex life, and I could see another warning on the horizon.
“Neighborhood first developed in the 1930s,” I said, trying for a lighter tone. “Some of the most expensive houses on the island. We’re talking ten to fifteen million bucks.”
I pulled up in front of Mr. Hu’s house and shut the Jeep off. The wrought-iron gates were closed and the place looked deserted, but the grass grows so fast in the islands that it could have just been a couple of weeks since the lawn service had been by.
“This is where you came to meet Mr. Hu?” Ray asked.
“I want to say, I appreciate how cool you are,” I said, looking not at Ray but out the window. “Most guys, they’d freak out at some of the stuff I’ve told you.”
“I ever tell you about this human sexuality course I took in college?”
I looked over at him. “Nope.”
“Very interesting. I mean, I took it in part because of that cousin I told you about, Joey, the gay one. I wanted to understand what was up with him. But I got into it. I was thinking maybe of majoring in sociology then. You know, save the world from all its problems.”
“I can see that in you.” Ray cared about people, especially those in trouble, victims, even bad guys who’d been turned bad by circumstance.
“We read all this graphic stuff,” Ray said. “Some of the guys were grossed out. I think a couple of my buddies signed up because they thought we’d be studying the Kama Sutra or something, learning exotic sexual positions. But between the course, and my cousin, and some of the other shit I’ve seen, the bottom line is, you can tell me anything. I’m not going to get grossed out, I’m not going to tell the rest of the squad, and it’s not going to change my opinion of you.”
“I appreciate that, partner.” Looking up at the shuttered mansion, I told him about the night Lucas fucked me so badly Gunter had to take me to the ER.
Ray squirmed a little in his seat, but I could see he was trying not to show it. “So Steve Hart’s John Doe was your donkey dick?”
“Think so. Course, I could always ask Doc Takayama for corroboration.”
Ray laughed. “I want to be there for that.”
Back at the station, we kept pulling at the threads of the investigation, hoping some new clue would unravel. Just before the end of our shift, Brian Izumigawa called. “How are you holding up?” I asked.
“I’m scared, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat,” he said. “I picked up the phone a dozen times to call you but I was afraid of what you’d say. Please, tell me you have some good news. I can’t take much more of this.”
“We’re working on chasing down Mr. Hu.” Listening to a victim without getting upset yourself is a skill that takes a long time to master. I was still working on it, especially when a case like this hit so close to home, but I focused on keeping my voice quiet to calm Brian down. “He’s in the middle of something much bigger than your blackmail, and if he hasn’t contacted you about the money again, it’s because he’s got a lot on his plate right now. Just hold on.”
“Easy for you to say.”
We talked for a while longer, edging around the question of whether he should just give up and tell his wife.
