slipping on a wet floor and hitting his head on the edge of the counter? I’m no expert on injuries, but it seems to me it would take more than a slip to get that much of an injury.”

“That’s what the coroner said.”

“He’s sure the pattern of the injury matched that of the shape of the edge of the counter?” she asked.

“Excellent match. There’s also a match to something else in the bar, and right next to where his body was found.”

“What’s that?”

“The billy club he mentioned to you. That was one thing that transmitted loud and clear while you were sitting at the bar with your double whisky. Apparently, he showed it to you?”

“Yeah. He called it his persuader. He kept it somewhere out of sight below the counter. He took it out, slapped his hand a few times, made a threatening face, before putting it away again. It seemed like he had easy access to it.”

“You never saw exactly where he kept it?” Kona asked.

Gina shook her head. “I couldn’t see his side of the bar.”

“My problem is that the size and shape of the billy club is also a perfect match for the injury pattern on the back of his head.”

“What other evidence is there? Any transfer of hair or skin cells on either the club or the counter?”

“That’s my other big problem. The club had been wiped clean, with no hairs at all. Nor were there any fingerprints, as in none at all.”

“What about on the counter?”

“Also wiped clean. But the bartender I talked to explained that away as the counter being wiped down frequently during every shift, and again at the end of the night.”

“That was Harry Tanizawa?” she asked.

“Right. He looked pretty shaken up about it, too.”

“Did you take him in and sit him down in an interrogation room? Because I bet he knows more about this than he’s letting on.”

“I spent two hours with him this morning, and got a big, fat nothing. Honestly, I felt like he was in the dark. He had a pretty good idea girls were using his bar to meet johns and turn tricks in the parking lot, but never knew Chuck was behind it.”

“Dope of the Year Award.” Gina swung her finger around the side of her head. “How could someone not see that going on?”

“Because he didn’t want to. Chuck manipulated his way onto evening shift, leaving Harry to open the place in the morning whenever Hughes wasn’t around. When Harry worked in the evenings, Chuck kept him busy with the blender making fancy drinks. He never had the chance to see anything.”

“Jeesh. It’s Harry’s bar, not Chuck’s.”

“Not much of a businessman, if you ask me,” Kona said.

“You have other ideas about the perp, right? You think Candy went back and gave him a whack with the billy club?”

“We both heard her threaten to cut you and over nothing, and she threatened him in front of witnesses, one of whom was you.”

Gina shook her head. “She was pissed about something, more than just about one of the other girls getting pushed around. Otherwise, she threatened him with a knife, not a club. If she did go back, why would she look for a club instead of using her knife? That doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Me either. But I’ve got two dead pimps, plus a dead bartender, and a pissed off prostitute that knew all of them.”

“Two pissed off prostitutes.”

“How so?”

“Clara is my informant.”

“What could she possibly know about them?” he asked.

“She worked for Danny, at least until he got her pregnant. She was his last girl before he shut down his stable. All his other girls had gone to Chuck, and that’s when the trouble really started.”

Detective Kona was writing quickly now. “How?”

“According to Clara, after all his other girls left him, Danny ran out of money and started living at Kapalama Park. She was taking him cheese sandwiches, maybe the only food he was getting for months.”

“That’s taking her word for it.”

“Think about it, Detective. The cheese sandwiches she makes here are on white bread, with mustard on one side and mayo on the other, and only Velveeta. Isn’t that exactly what the coroner found in Danny’s stomach?”

He flipped through his notepad to find something. “Yep. Yellow cheese on white with mayo and mustard. That’s what my mother made for me as a kid. It sounds like Clara had some genuine affection for him.”

“So did the other girls,” Gina said. “Clara said something about even after they were earning more money working for Chuck, the other girls hated him.”

“Because?”

“Chuck was generally mean and nasty to his corral from the sound of it.”

Kona sighed with exasperation when he looked up at the sky. “That means Candy isn’t the only angry prostitute that was pissed at Chuck.”

“Actually, I know of a third pissed off hooker.”

“Criminy,” he said, flipping to a fresh page on his yellow pad. “You have a name to give me, or just a description?”

“Both. Remember my new friend, Holly? She probably works for Chuck. Or did, anyway.”

“I’d still like to have a long chat in an interrogation room with her. Has she contacted you since the other night?”

“No, but I know how you can find her,” Gina said.

“I’m waiting, Miss Santoro.”

“Talk to Harry. They’re dating. Or at least last weekend they were.”

Detective Kona wrote quickly in his special shorthand. “Candy, Clara, and Holly. Anyone else?”

“Not that I know of, but Holly might have a new name by now, and a new hair color. From what I heard, she changes both rather whimsically.” Gina wiped more sweat from her face and neck. “It could’ve been any of them that went back in the middle of the night.”

“Who was the girl he was pushing around in the hallway, the one that drew Candy into the fight?”

“Just a very pretty girl with a seductive way about her.”

“No idea of her name?” he asked.

Gina looked off into the distance to avoid answering.

“Miss Santoro, are you withholding something?”

She looked

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