The lawyer waited for Kawika’s reaction. So did Tanaka and Carolyn. The silence lengthened uncomfortably. Finally Tanaka broke it. “Perhaps you could explain.”
“Certainly,” Pohano replied. “Our organization’s objectives are real. We demand that Hawaii be restored to its status as a sovereign nation—allied with but independent of the United States—and we demand reparations for Hawaiian people. We’re serious. However, we’re also realists. We can’t achieve success overnight. We have to raise consciousness first. The press release is a consciousness-raising tool. It has nothing to do with Detective Wong personally, or with our purpose here today. To reach Native Hawaiians—also haoles and others—we need publicity. Sadly, too, we have to compete with other Hawaiian cultural groups for members and funds—make a splash sometimes. So again, we meant nothing personal. It was, as I said, purely political.”
What happened next caught Kawika by surprise. Something seismic, some column of molten lava surging upward, shook Carolyn. Pele seized her, then erupted furiously.
“Nothing personal?” she shouted. “Are you crazy? You make Kawika the target of the worst kind of racial hatred, and it’s nothing personal? What if some whacked-out kanaka takes a shot at him? Would a bullet in Kawika be purely political, you think?”
She was standing now, leaning angrily across the table at Pohano, supporting herself on her hands, with fingers spread, as if she were about to launch herself at his throat. Kawika and Tanaka each leapt up and grabbed one of her arms.
“Let’s take a break,” Tanaka suggested. “Will you excuse us?” He led Carolyn and Kawika out the door and down the hall.
Five minutes later the police team returned, with Carolyn somewhat subdued but still looking angry.
“Ms. Ka‘aukai is a Native Hawaiian,” Kawika said, when everyone sat down again. “She’s not a police professional, but she is descended from Hawaiian royalty. I’m a Hawaiian too. We understand our history—Carolyn in particular understands it—and we know the injustices Hawaiians have suffered. We can sympathize with some of your political views, but—obviously—not with your press release. I’ve heard your apology. Now let’s move on.”
“Thank you,” Pohano said. “We agree. Let’s move on.”
Turning to the three S&R representatives who hadn’t spoken, Kawika asked, “Which one of you is Keoni Ana?” They looked at one another in confusion, then at Mele Kawena Smith and their lawyer.
“What is this, Detective?” Pohano demanded. “These individuals are here as observers, not participants.”
“But their names aren’t real,” Carolyn said. “They’re names of historic figures, people who’ve been dead a hundred years. We know who they are: the Hawaiians who helped draw up the Great Māhele, the division of the lands back in 1848.”
The visitors looked surprised. “Captain Tanaka and I are just policemen,” Kawika explained, “but as I said, Ms. Ka‘aukai is an expert in Hawaiian history.”
Pohano smiled. “Let me explain,” he said, recovering smoothly. “Our members face intimidation, reprisals. We try to protect them. Where, as here, their real names don’t matter, we may substitute names of other Hawaiians—ancestors, if you will. Members of our ‘ohana, our extended family.”
The police team sat silently, waiting.
“We picked these names for a reason,” Pohano added. “Ms. Ka‘aukai put her finger on it: the Māhele. We’re here to talk about the Great Māhele. It matters to your investigation.”
Carolyn smiled—or perhaps grimaced—in vindication.
“We’re going to talk about the Māhele?” she repeated, just to make sure.
“Among other things,” said Pohano. He cleared his throat and set a legal pad on the table. “Here’s what we came to tell you,” he began, glancing at his notes. “We don’t know where to find Peter Pukui. We reject any notion that he’s a fugitive from justice. However, we’re prepared to try to find him. We think that will take about a week.”
Pohano paused and looked up at Kawika, who snorted in disgust.
“A week?” he said. “Let me guess: you have suggestions to help us pass the time.”
“Exactly,” Pohano replied. “We have information—new leads to investigate. It’s in our interest that you catch the killer and bring him to justice. We don’t want Mr. Pukui blamed for a crime he didn’t commit.”
“So you agree there’s been a crime—not just an alleged crime?” Kawika asked.
“Of course,” Pohano acknowledged, refusing to be baited. “But we’re not shedding tears for Mr. Fortunato. He broke the law in at least three respects. Any of those could provide a motive for murder. You’re focused just on destruction of the heiau—and on the wrong part of that. The heiau’s destruction was illegal—”
“Although he did have a permit,” Kawika interrupted.
“He did. But he got the permit by bribing a public official here in Hilo. After the University team confirmed the heiau’s authenticity, Mr. Fortunato decided to challenge that conclusion. He hired a contract archeology firm to write a second report, one that would support his permit. The public official accepted that second report and granted the permit.”
“And the bribe?” Kawika asked.
“The official who granted the permit is a secret partner in the firm that wrote the second report. He recommended his own firm to Mr. Fortunato, who promised to pay the firm an unusually large sum. But once Mr. Fortunato had his permit, he refused to pay them. He was, after all, a crook.”
“You think he was killed for double-crossing this guy?”
“It’s possible,” said Pohano. “The guy’s a very tough local. Bingo Palapala—great name, probably not the one he was born with. He’s got a racket going. It includes some supposedly respectable PhD bone-diggers—people with a lot to lose. They must’ve hated being double-crossed. Also, Mr. Fortunato probably threatened to expose them when they demanded payment, wouldn’t you guess?”
Kawika and Tanaka exchanged glances. “You’re talking a major public corruption case,” Tanaka said. “If this is true.”
“I know you’re skeptical. But you should be skeptical about someone getting permits to bulldoze a heiau. I mean, c’mon. Kamehameha built it. Without bribes, no one’s going to let you bulldoze it. You agree, Ms. Ka‘aukai?”
“I’d have to see the consultants’ report,” she replied. “I doubt they said, ‘Here’s a heiau built by Kamehameha the Great; it has no
