“She’s someone Fortunato might meet at night,” Kawika agreed. “She could blackmail him. She could make it look like Hawaiians killed him too.”
“Right,” Tanaka said. He wrote Melanie on the board.
“Of course, Melanie may not fit,” Kawika said. “Or Joan, for that matter. Jason Hare said the killer was a man. And Dr. Smith said it was a heck of a powerful blow.”
Tanaka didn’t reply. He waited, smiling at Kawika enigmatically.
“Ah,” said Kawika. “I get it. You’re remembering we can’t trust Jason Hare or Dr. Smith—not entirely, anyway. And even though Joan was small, she was strong. Melanie could be a power lifter for all we know, right?”
“Right. Very good. Iiko, iiko.”
Kawika frowned at a new thought. “Then should we at least consider Corazon Fortunato?”
“Probably,” Tanaka agreed. “But we both hear a little voice saying, ‘It’s not her.’ Those little voices are worth listening to.”
“Generally?” Kawika asked.
“Generally,” Tanaka agreed with a laugh.
Kawika got up and walked, like Tanaka, to the window, trying to see if the demonstrators had dispersed. Evidently they’d left. Whew, Kawika thought.
“Corazon’s small,” Kawika said. “Not dainty, just small. Could she strike that blow? And did she know where her husband was going that night? Plus, she’s got a baby.”
“So the logistics seem tough?” Tanaka asked.
“Yeah, but would she kill him anyway? She and the baby might be better off with Fortunato alive and earning money, even if she divorced him. And she was angry when I talked with her. Practically ballistic about Peter Pukui and HHH. Though I suppose she could be a great actress.”
“But guilty people can’t act,” Tanaka said.
“Generally?” asked Kawika, following his boss and resuming a seat.
“Generally.” Tanaka smiled. “You know all this.”
Kawika did know it. An innocent person doesn’t have to act. A guilty person does. A guilty person has to imagine how an innocent person would act, what an innocent person would say.
“There’s always—okay, generally—some telltale hesitation,” added Kawika, ever the good protege. “The guilty person has to think up the script before acting it out, right?”
“Right,” replied Tanaka. “There’s that little hitch or delay when you talk with them. You can’t use it to prove guilt, but you can spot it.”
“Corazon didn’t seem to be acting, though,” Kawika said. “But we’ll question her some more, check those logistics.” He wrote himself another note. “Who’s next?”
“The Murphys, our California doctor couple,” said Tanaka. “You make them for the murder?”
“Hard to say. Haven’t met ’em yet. But it looks bad for them. They were in a legal battle with the guy. He went to their house, never got his Tevas back on. And then the Murphys took off. They must’ve been the last people to see him alive.”
“Except for the killer and Jason Hare.”
“Yeah, but the Murphys and Hare could be the killers,” Kawika said. “That’s what the Waimea cops think. Or the Murphys might’ve bought off Hare to silence him—maybe by giving a lot of money to Kohala Kats.” Kawika knew Hare accepted donations; he’d taken Patience’s check.
“The Waimea cops probably want the killers to be haoles,” replied Tanaka. “Shimazu would do too—he’s not Hawaiian.”
“Maybe, but they might be right,” Kawika said. “Even if the Murphys didn’t kill Fortunato, they might have set him up for the Hawaiians. They’re working pretty closely with Hawaiians on those Pohano lawsuits.”
“Well, question them,” Tanaka said. “As soon as they get back. Do it at their house. Make them walk you through their meeting with Fortunato. See if you can trip ’em up. See what you can learn.”
“Okay,” said Kawika. “But you really don’t make the Murphys for this, do you?”
“Just a hunch,” Tanaka replied. “To me, they don’t seem like guilty people trying to act innocent.”
Kawika laughed. “You mean, guilty people trying to act innocent wouldn’t take off, they’d stay put?”
“Not bad,” Tanaka said, “But there’s a simpler explanation.”
“Uh-oh,” said Kawika. “Time for Occam’s Razor?”
“What?” Tanaka wrote Murphys on the board.
“Nothing,” Kawika replied. “What’s the simpler explanation?”
“The simpler explanation is they had no reason to kill Fortunato. They were going to beat him in court. He didn’t have good legal title. That’s what they convinced themselves, anyway.”
“So you figure they’d be smug—cocky, arrogant, something like that—but not white-hot with hatred?” Kawika asked.
“Yeah. They might enjoy humiliating him—and I bet that’s what they did. But why kill him?”
Kawika paused to think. “Same goes for the hunters? The tenants? Still, we should question them. Especially if Fortunato taunted them about using spears.”
“Absolutely,” replied Tanaka. “Have Tommy do that. So, who’s that leave us?”
“Bingo Palapala, the guy who gave the bulldozing permit,” said Kawika. “Him and his firm, after Fortunato stiffed the firm—and probably threatened them.”
“Agreed.” Tanaka went back to the whiteboard. “I could see them doing it—and just the way it was done.” Hunters, he wrote. Bingo & firm. “Who else?”
“Shimazu?” suggested Kawika. “Fortunato was up to something. The Japanese would have been the marks, right?”
“Had to be, I guess.” Tanaka added Shimazu to the list. “Shimazu had the opportunity, if he had a motive. Besides interviewing him, we’ll have to see the company books, do some forensic accounting.”
“I’m sure we can do that,” Kawika said, making another note.
“Not sure anyone Japanese would’ve killed him with a spear, though. And how would Shimazu have gotten it?”
“We may know more when we know where the spear came from. We’re still working on that.”
“Good. Okay, who’s next?”
“Mainland guys,” Kawika offered. “Someone connected with Fortunato back in Washington where he blew up the Indian site. And we know the Feds were after him for fraud there. So the mainland guys could’ve had more than one motive.”
Tanaka scratched his head. “Same problem as with the Japanese. Why would mainland guys use an old Hawaiian spear and cord? Or have him hit that way? I can see them killing him. But with all that Hawaiian stuff?”
“I don’t know. But I gotta follow
