The Pearl Harbor Murders

At the sound of that nearby explosion, Hully had tossed his racket and his father had done the same, and as the guests rushed toward them, the Burroughs duo moved through the panicking crowd, swimming against the tide, running toward the beach.

Fred Bivens, eyes wide and unbelieving, came up to them, gesturing numbly toward the waters.

'A supply ship-it was standing just offshore, by Fort DeRussey…. A bomb blew the damn thing up! What kind of war games are these?'

Hully and his father looked out and could see bombs bursting over Pearl Harbor and Hickam Field.

'It's war, Fred,' O. B. said gravely. 'Not games.'

Hully grabbed his father by the arm and said to him pointedly, 'Then let's go take a prisoner.'

O. B., understanding, nodded curtly, and they took off.

Feeling like idiots-they if anyone should have known this was the real thing-Hully and O. B. ran toward the Kuhns' cottage. As they passed by an open window of another bungalow, a radio blasted out an announcer's call to action: 'All men report to your post! Calling all nurses! Proceed to Pearl Harbor!'

And as they jogged by another open window, on another tumed-up radio, a different announcer was saying, 'Civilians-stay off the street! Stay home! Do not use the telephone! Oahu is being attacked-the sign of the Rising Sun is to be seen on the wings of the attacking planes!'

No radio was on in the Kuhns' quarters, but they found the door open and, inside, Adam Sterling, who had a.38 revolver in his right hand. The place was a mess, almost as if it had been searched; but that wasn't exactly the case.

The FBI agent, who might have been a tourist in his aloha shirt and chinos, looked at them and said, 'Kuhn and his wife cleared out, sometime during the night.'

Hands on his hips, O. B. snorted a laugh and asked, 'Where the hell do they think they're gonna hide, on this island?'

Sterling stuck the gun in his waistband, shrugging. 'Maybe with Jap sympathizers. Maybe they think that fifth column is going to rise up, or maybe an invasion is going to follow this goddamn air raid, and they're hiding till the outcome.' Swallowing thickly, Sterling shook his head and his eyes locked with O. B.'s. 'Jesus, Ed-did we have to be right?'

Explosions, muffled, underscored the agent's statement.

“This is it,' O. B. said through clenched teeth. 'This is the attack. But my question is-is this what Pearl Harada knew?'

Sterling shook his head. 'No-but close. Last night, after you and I struck out with General Short and Admiral Kimmel.. and what a morning I bet they're having … I couldn't sleep. So I went over to the dining room, where the Harbor Lights were dragging their be-hinds through a performance … two of their members murdered, what a damn pall that cast.'

'I can imagine,' Hully said.

'Yeah,' O. B. said to the FBI agent, 'but what the hell does that-'

Nodding, the FBI man picked up his train of thought. 'I talked to a young man in the band who, as it turns out, was … secretly… Terry Mizuha's other best friend.' He grunted a humorless laugh. 'Hell, why mince words at a time like this? Terry Mizuha's boyfriend-his lover.'

O. B.'s eyes narrowed to slits. 'What did this 'lover' tell you?'

Distant explosions continued to accentuate the FBI agent's words.

“Terry had confided in him, Ed-just like Pearl had confided in Terry. Nonspies aren't much at keeping secrets, you know. Seems our esteemed Japanese vice consul, Tadashi Morimura, is not a diplomat at all-

he's a spy named Takeo Yoshikawa. A top espionage agent… So much for 'legal' spying.'

O. B. and Hully exchanged glances; then O. B. asked, 'Is that an act of war? Having a spy pose as a diplomat?'

Sterling barked a hollow laugh. 'Kind of a moot point right now, don't you think?'

And an especially loud explosion seemed to agree.

The FBI agent gestured to a telephone on a small table. 'Listen, the hotel phones are out. Maybe some Jap plane snagged the phone lines. So I can't call the office, and anyway it's just a skeleton crew over there; and I can't contact anybody at home, obviously. I'm on my own-you and Hully want to help?'

Hully was nodding, emphatically, as O. B. said, 'Sure-how?'

Sterling's smile had a sneer in it. 'I want to get over to that Japanese embassy and arrest that son of a bitch, Morimura/Yoshikawa, plus I want to take all those other Nips into custody, right down to General Counsul Kita….You got a gun, Ed?'

O. B. nodded. 'I still have Otto's L?ger-in the bungalow.'

'Get it. That is, if you want to help out.'

'Oh, I want to help.' Eyes so tight they seemed to be shut, O. B. stood almost nose to nose with the FBI agent (or would have if Sterling hadn't been so much taller) and said, 'Listen, Adam-Pearl knew more than just Morimura's last name, I'm sure of it That bastard Morimura or Yoshi-something knew about this attack. This invasion got Pearl killed, and that Terry fella as well-they're the first casualties of this new war. Well, the Army and Navy have their hands full right now-you bet we'll be glad to help the FBI get that bastard.'

Sterling and Hully tagged along as O. B. headed back to the bungalow to get the German's gun. As they approached, Bill Fielder-in his bare feet, his green sportshirt unbuttoned, zipping his chinos-came tumbling out, bumping into Hully.

The young ensign's face was unshaven, his eyes red, his dark hair sticking out here and there with sleep- induced cowlicks.

'Christ, have you heard?' Bill asked.

With bombs bursting in air-just like 'The Star Spangled Banner'-this was a fairly absurd question.

'It's no drill,' O. B. said.

'I gotta get to the Arizona,' Bill said desperately, wheeling from Hully to O. B. to Sterling. 'You gotta drive me there! I gotta get in this! I gotta help!'

'Keys to the Pierce Arrow are on the coffee table,' O. B. said, pointing to the nearby screen door. 'Take it-try not to get my buggy shot the hell up… or yourself.'

'Thank you, thank you,' Bill murmured, and ran back inside the Burroughs cottage.

Sterling paused for just a moment, watching Bill through the screen, and Hully was surprised to see that the FBI agent-this strong-jawed six-foot-two Tarzan type-had tears welling.

'The men on those ships getting bombed,' he said softly, voice catching, 'they're all boys like that-average damn age is nineteen.'

O. B. whispered, 'Dying out there, right now.'

Then Bill, clutching the car keys, came streaking past them, flashing a nod of thanks and a grimace of a smile.

Burroughs went in and retrieved the L?ger, and followed after as the FBI man dashed toward the crushed- coral parking lot where the Ford waited, Hully right there at his father's side.

'Didn't miss the fire this time, Dad,' he said.

'Wish to hell I had,' O. B. said.

There were tears in his father's eyes, as well; but-as was the case with the FBI man-Edgar Rice Burroughs's jaw was firmly set.

FOURTEEN

Under Fire

At the same time as Edgar Rice Burroughs and his son Hulbert were sitting down for breakfast at the Niumalu, two barefoot young fishermen were settling in on the enlisted men's landing at Pearl City. Sitting on the pier in only their khaki trousers, having yanked their T-shirts off (once they'd slipped out of their mother's sight), the