“I may have an idea,” I said.
All eyes turned to me.
“May I use your phone?” I asked Ryan.
I called Danny from the hall. Speaking in hushed tones, I explained where I was and what had happened.
“Son of a friggin’ gun. Do you have a DOB and SSN?”
I read them off, waited while Danny checked Xander Lapasa’s file. It didn’t take long.
“It’s him.”
Then who was 1968-979, the corpse found wearing Spider Lowery’s dog tag? Neither Danny nor I posed the question aloud.
One thing troubled me. I’d laid it on Ryan, but where had I gotten the notion?
“Wasn’t Xander Lapasa Italian?” I asked.
“What made you think that?”
“You said there were rumors Alex Senior was mobbed up.”
“I meant that in a general sense. Organized crime. Not the Italian Mafia.”
“You said he looked like some guy on
“In that snapshot he did.”
I’d been guilty of buying into an ethnic stereotype. I’d made an assumption based on Xander’s looks, the sound of his name, and rumors of Mafia ties.
“Remember the story about old Alex coming to Hawaii, inheriting the gas station, going into real estate?”
“Yes,” I said.
“He came to Honolulu from Samoa.”
I took a moment to let the new reality sink in. Then, “May I tell the cops what we know about Xander Lapasa and the remains at JPAC?”
“You trust them to keep it confidential?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t see a problem. Why? What are you thinking?”
I outlined my plan.
“Could work,” Danny said.
“We may need your help in securing Nickie’s cooperation,” I said.
“Oh, yeah. I’m Mr. Persuasive. I was just shot down again by Plato Lowery.”
“Does he know about the path slides Beasley found and submitted?”
“No.”
“Anyway, will you phone Nickie?”
“Yeah. Why not.”
“It’s all gone to hell, hasn’t it, Danny?”
“Yeah. It has.”
“Does Merkel know?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll keep you in the loop. And, Tempe.”
“Yes.”
“Be careful.”
The others were as I’d left them. So were the cups. I’m convinced no one drinks squad room coffee. You pour the stuff, let it cool, then toss it out.
I explained the situation at JPAC. The unidentified bones in the box. The ID of 1968-979 as Xander Lapasa. Nickie Lapasa’s refusal to allow family members to submit DNA. The detectives listened without interrupting.
When I’d finished Lo spoke first.
“So you think Al Lapasa could be this guy who went missing in Vietnam forty years ago?”
“His date of birth and Social Security number match those on file for Xander Lapasa.”
“How’d he get from Nam to California?”
“I don’t know. But that’s usually where the planes landed.”
“What do you propose?” Hung asked.
“We all want Al Lapasa in Honolulu, right?”
