"YES?"
"Darling, I got the scoop on Green." It was Ronnie.
"Yeah?"
"Probably nothing you don't know about," he said sarcastically. "The way we figure, there was a struggle of some kind and he fell. There was some bruising on the body, but the blows didn't kill him. Forensics thinks he hit his head on the way down. The dent in his head matches the corner of the coffee table. Coroner thinks he was alive when he went down, expired when he hit his noggin. We're still waiting for toxicology. We swept the place, the only thing we found that wasn't consistent with the crime scene was a piece of jewelry."
"Jewelry." I repeated. He was talking about the pendant. I wondered if he would tell me about the note pad.
Ronnie paused. I think he was wondering what I could do with the information. Or maybe he was wondering why I was asking.
"A Hawaiian pendant."
"With a name on it?" Come on Ronnie, you gotta trust me.
I could hear him thinking over the phone. "Yeah, Pika."
Samantha looked at me with some concern. I shrugged.
Ronnie went on. "The coroner estimates the time of death to be either late Sunday or early Monday morning. Hard to tell with his air con turned on so high. This Green guy lived like an Eskimo. Security tagged a car out front at one thirty in the A.M. on Monday. Right now we're trying to track down a white van that was seen leaving the scene at about the time of the killing. Witnesses say that three guys illegally parked out front and entered the condo. They disappeared about then minutes later."
"Descriptions?" I asked.
"Well, two guys were big. The other guy was skinny, kinda small. The big guys looked Polynesian."
The same van that was at Samantha's place? "Anything on the van?"
"Darling, do fishermen drink? Stolen from a Kaneohe parking lot on Saturday night."
"Any connection to the Tiger Sharks?"
"The apartment was clean except for some betting sheets. But that could have been personal. We've got nothing to connect Green to booking or anything else. Apparently, Green, if he was making book, kept it all in his head. No notes, no books. Nothing."
They hadn't found his ledger either. Without the book, neither I nor the police could trace the money. if he had died Sunday night, he wouldn't have had time to go do the bank.
"Anything about partners?"
Ronnie paused again.
"No, just some girl that visited him once or twice a week. Probably his girlfriend, we're checking that angle now. Darling, if you got something, you better let me know about it. Since murder and maybe gambling is involved, the word has come down to wrap this up fast. Read the paper, you'll know what I mean."
"Ronnie, if I get something, you'll be the first to know." For what ever reason, he had held back on the note with the three initials.
"Look Darling, the vice guys had Green under surveillance for some time. They were ready to take him down. If you know anything more, you better let me in on it."
I let his threat go in on ear and out the other. Something didn't sound right. I wondered if Ronnie could be trusted.
"What team was the first on the scene?"
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"Who was the first on the scene?"
"Vice was watching his place, the gambling detail was the first through the door."
That made me wonder about the note. Ronnie worked homicide, but sometimes they weren't always first on the scene. There was a lot of time to tamper with evidence.
"Ronnie, who else did they have their eyes on?"
"Sakama's supposed to give me a full report today. By the way, we're holding back on releasing his name. Gotta let the family know first."
"You'll fill me in right?"
"Darling, you remember what we talked about last night?"
"I remember."
"You wanna tell me what your angle is? There are a couple of cops on this case wondering why an innkeeper's so interested in all of this."
So far there was no reason for me to to divulge Samantha's name. It would come up sooner or later. What worried me was the more smoke I blew there way, the more suspicious I would become. "I told you earlier, just helping out a friend."
There was a long pause on the line.
"Look, I don't need to give you jack. But I'll tell you this: what ever you're into is big. You're on your own."
"Ronnie, you do what you think you have to do, just like me. The difference is that I'm a civilian, you gotta play by the rules. As soon as something goes down, I'll get back to you." I hung up.
ch10 pg 65-68
"RISE and shine Hawaii. Well, maybe not shine. The storm front is still lingering with us. Expect thunder showers all through the day with flash flood warnings for all islands. Forecasters say the front will hang over the islands at least until tonight. The bad news is there's a northern front heading towards us, it should hit us by early morning. With the heavy rains traffic will be a mess, especially for those coming over from the windward side. Leave early and drive safely.
In the news today-"
I imagined the jammed freeways and choked intersections around town. People scrambling to get to work on time, running red lights and blocking cross walks o make that last light. Calm ordinary people stressed out and ready to kill someone before they even opened the door to the job. I was glad I lived at work.
I willed my eyes open and checked the time. It was seven thirty.
The dull light that shone through my window told me it was still cloudy outside. I lay there for a minute and collected my thoughts. the cold air inside had made my windows fog up again. The humidity outside must have been heavy and thick.
My tired body complained to me as I lifted myself front he comfort of the bed and made my way to the bathroom.
The cold tap water sent a shiver down my spine as I splashed some on my face. I looked up into the mirror ans saw Samantha appear behind me dressed in matching satin pajamas. She looked good in them.
I opened a drawer and handed her a fresh tooth brush. We would have to share the toothpaste.
"Thanks."
Samantha and I stood over the wash basin. Even without her makeup, she was a pleasant distraction. The fatigue and defeat she wore on her face yesterday had been replaced by an air of resolve and purpose. The lines on her face had disappeared and her eyes were now clear and sparkling. That we were seeking a solution to her problem had something to do with it.
She smiled at me as she worked her toothbrush back and forth.
"Why didn't you wake me last night?"
"I got back late ad didn't want to bother you." I watched for her reaction in the mirror and was kept waiting. I placed my toothbrush back in it's holder and looked her over.
"Nice pjs."
"I didn't think you would mind." She held the tooth brush in her mouth and grinned. A small bit of foam escaped her lips and dripped down her chin.
Dark sinister clouds were poised low over the horizon as we ordered our breakfast. By the time Dave from room service cam up and knocked on the door, they had leisurely drifted over the island only to open up and send tourists scurrying for shelter. Dave pushed the cart to my table, took out a table cloth and began to set breakfast for two.
The rains created a somber mood in my room as it cast grey shadows across the floor. Samantha seemed to be equally affected as she moped to her chair and sat down in a huff.
"Isn't this rain ever going to stop?"
Dave and I took her question to be rhetorical and didn't answer. he handed me the paper and silently placed our morning meals in front of us. Two ham and cheese omelets sat there steaming in the silence. Like a good waiter, Dave could feel the strained atmosphere in the room. He left without making a sound. Then again, maybe he was just surprised to see me awake so early in the morning in the company or a woman wearing satin pajamas.
The weather was starting to wear me down. All my efforts of yesterday yielded nothing but heat from the cops more questions. The prospect of having to go out and trudge about in the rain again depressed me. I wished for the sun to come out and lift away the gloom that hung over my breakfast. The only bright spot in my life sat in front of me.
Samantha's dark round eyes and long shapely legs contrasted against the light color of her pjs. Her ethnic mix of hauole and Korean combined with her dark tan to make her look exotic. Or maybe it was just that it had been a long time since I had sat down to breakfast with a beautiful woman.
"Can I have the sports section?"
I put the front page down and handed her the sports. She unfolded it and set down to her right, reading intently.
The police beat was what I was looking for. Hopefully there would be something there on Greenie. My guess was that they found him too late to make the morning edition.
Two Navy men had found a body floating in one of the streams that flowed into Pearl Harbor. Some teenager stabbed another outside a Pearl City night club. The police were looking for two local males who had shook down a pair of Japanese tourists right on Waikiki beach.
Honolulu was no longer the town where you could leave your door unlocked at night. We had the same problems of any metropolitan city. Gone are the days when a smile was just a smile, not an invitation. I remember as high school kids, my friends and I would hitch hike to the beach and back. Now if someone offered you a hand out, you had to wonder what they wanted in return. Neighbors watched each other suspiciously, and the guy who offered you a ride might be after your wallet.
The reasons for the change were the same all over the United States. Drugs, poverty, gangs, they all led to one thing: crime.
Welcome to paradise.
I opened up the Entertainment section of the paper and started on the crossword. Between bites of my omelet, I had just about finished the daily when Samantha broke my concentration.
"You don't like me very much do you."
"I beg your pardon?" Her question surprised me. I put the paper down and turned toward her.
Samantha was the kind of woman who didn't have any trouble getting a date and her question was a dead giveaway. She was looking for attention, or a reason for lack of it. The have a member of the opposite sex treat her with so much indifference was unfamiliar to her.
"You act so indifferent towards me and you seem to keep your distance. Am I so bad?" She brushed the hair from here eyes and watched the rain fall. "I know what I did was wrong, but I'm trying to do the right thing."
She turned to look at me waited for a reply.
"Samantha, I'm just here to help you." I didn't feel like playing today.
"I'd like to be a friend," she said softly. Our eyes met and she smiled weakly.
The smile on her face didn't say friends. It asked me why I hadn't made a pass at her yet and was it okay for her to make on at me. We both searched for the answers to our questions.
Looking into her eyes was like looking into a lava tube; dark, smoldering and dangerous. You never entered on without knowing the way out. I caught myself staring.
Samantha was just a woman who had come to me in trouble. I didn't know if she could be trusted, or if she was telling me the whole story. For now, she was just someone who needed a break.
I reached over the table and took her trembling hand. Her fingers gripped mine with a strength I supposed was partly fueled by fear. then her thumb began to caress the back of my hand in a gesture I didn't think was appreciation.
"Samantha, I'm here to get you out of whatever you're in." I let go of her hand and grinned. "If you can't trust me, who can you trust?"
The phone rang.
In the news today-"
I imagined the jammed freeways and choked intersections around town. People scrambling to get to work on time, running red lights and blocking cross walks o make that last light. Calm ordinary people stressed out and ready to kill someone before they even opened the door to the job. I was glad I lived at work.
I willed my eyes open and checked the time. It was seven thirty.
The dull light that shone through my window told me it was still cloudy outside. I lay there for a minute and collected my thoughts. the cold air inside had made my windows fog up again. The humidity outside must have been heavy and thick.
My tired body complained to me as I lifted myself front he comfort of the bed and made my way to the bathroom.
The cold tap water sent a shiver down my spine as I splashed some on my face. I looked up into the mirror ans saw Samantha appear behind me dressed in matching satin pajamas. She looked good in them.
I opened a drawer and handed her a fresh tooth brush. We would have to share the toothpaste.
"Thanks."
Samantha and I stood over the wash basin. Even without her makeup, she was a pleasant distraction. The fatigue and defeat she wore on her face yesterday had been replaced by an air of resolve and purpose. The lines on her face had disappeared and her eyes were now clear and sparkling. That we were seeking a solution to her problem had something to do with it.
She smiled at me as she worked her toothbrush back and forth.
"Why didn't you wake me last night?"
"I got back late ad didn't want to bother you." I watched for her reaction in the mirror and was kept waiting. I placed my toothbrush back in it's holder and looked her over.
"Nice pjs."
"I didn't think you would mind." She held the tooth brush in her mouth and grinned. A small bit of foam escaped her lips and dripped down her chin.
Dark sinister clouds were poised low over the horizon as we ordered our breakfast. By the time Dave from room service cam up and knocked on the door, they had leisurely drifted over the island only to open up and send tourists scurrying for shelter. Dave pushed the cart to my table, took out a table cloth and began to set breakfast for two.
The rains created a somber mood in my room as it cast grey shadows across the floor. Samantha seemed to be equally affected as she moped to her chair and sat down in a huff.
"Isn't this rain ever going to stop?"
Dave and I took her question to be rhetorical and didn't answer. he handed me the paper and silently placed our morning meals in front of us. Two ham and cheese omelets sat there steaming in the silence. Like a good waiter, Dave could feel the strained atmosphere in the room. He left without making a sound. Then again, maybe he was just surprised to see me awake so early in the morning in the company or a woman wearing satin pajamas.
The weather was starting to wear me down. All my efforts of yesterday yielded nothing but heat from the cops more questions. The prospect of having to go out and trudge about in the rain again depressed me. I wished for the sun to come out and lift away the gloom that hung over my breakfast. The only bright spot in my life sat in front of me.
Samantha's dark round eyes and long shapely legs contrasted against the light color of her pjs. Her ethnic mix of hauole and Korean combined with her dark tan to make her look exotic. Or maybe it was just that it had been a long time since I had sat down to breakfast with a beautiful woman.
"Can I have the sports section?"
I put the front page down and handed her the sports. She unfolded it and set down to her right, reading intently.
The police beat was what I was looking for. Hopefully there would be something there on Greenie. My guess was that they found him too late to make the morning edition.
Two Navy men had found a body floating in one of the streams that flowed into Pearl Harbor. Some teenager stabbed another outside a Pearl City night club. The police were looking for two local males who had shook down a pair of Japanese tourists right on Waikiki beach.
Honolulu was no longer the town where you could leave your door unlocked at night. We had the same problems of any metropolitan city. Gone are the days when a smile was just a smile, not an invitation. I remember as high school kids, my friends and I would hitch hike to the beach and back. Now if someone offered you a hand out, you had to wonder what they wanted in return. Neighbors watched each other suspiciously, and the guy who offered you a ride might be after your wallet.
The reasons for the change were the same all over the United States. Drugs, poverty, gangs, they all led to one thing: crime.
Welcome to paradise.
I opened up the Entertainment section of the paper and started on the crossword. Between bites of my omelet, I had just about finished the daily when Samantha broke my concentration.
"You don't like me very much do you."
"I beg your pardon?" Her question surprised me. I put the paper down and turned toward her.
Samantha was the kind of woman who didn't have any trouble getting a date and her question was a dead giveaway. She was looking for attention, or a reason for lack of it. The have a member of the opposite sex treat her with so much indifference was unfamiliar to her.
"You act so indifferent towards me and you seem to keep your distance. Am I so bad?" She brushed the hair from here eyes and watched the rain fall. "I know what I did was wrong, but I'm trying to do the right thing."
She turned to look at me waited for a reply.
"Samantha, I'm just here to help you." I didn't feel like playing today.
"I'd like to be a friend," she said softly. Our eyes met and she smiled weakly.
The smile on her face didn't say friends. It asked me why I hadn't made a pass at her yet and was it okay for her to make on at me. We both searched for the answers to our questions.
Looking into her eyes was like looking into a lava tube; dark, smoldering and dangerous. You never entered on without knowing the way out. I caught myself staring.
Samantha was just a woman who had come to me in trouble. I didn't know if she could be trusted, or if she was telling me the whole story. For now, she was just someone who needed a break.
I reached over the table and took her trembling hand. Her fingers gripped mine with a strength I supposed was partly fueled by fear. then her thumb began to caress the back of my hand in a gesture I didn't think was appreciation.
"Samantha, I'm here to get you out of whatever you're in." I let go of her hand and grinned. "If you can't trust me, who can you trust?"
The phone rang.
ch9 pg 62-64
SLICK and Mr. Ukulele exchanged looks.
"We don't want to get him in any trouble," Slick said. "First the cop came looking, then you, then the two mokes. We don't know where he is. His girlfriend ain't seen him for a couple of days. We hoped you could tell us what's going on. As in what the hell this is all about."
"Who's his girl?"
Mr. Ukulele spoke up. "Some chick who lives in Kaneohe. Her name's Cindy Kalama. She when call a couple of times looking for him. As in she don't know where he stay either."
Slicks peculiar way of expressing himself was apparently contagious. I put down my glass. "You guys gotta help me. I don't know a whole lot about what's going on. If you guys are his friends, then you of all people should know what he was into. If you came here to try and get some information from me to warn him, it's too late. You know that. He's already in trouble. The best thing you can do for him now is to tell me what he was into and to help me find him. Before the other guys do. Understand."
Slick turned to his friend and mumbled something to him. They nodded to each other and turned to face me. "You no can say who told you this, okay? As in we weren't here."
I nodded.
"You was right. Chucky was running bets. That was small time. He was also dealing. As in drugs."
I raised my eyebrows. "No kidding."
Slick shook his head. "We when try for warn him. We told him he was dealing with Feds and not the local cops. He knew that if he got caught it wasn't just jail, it was going be Federal prison. As in hard time. As in making gravel. As in no parole."
Mr. Ukulele nodded in agreement.
"He never like listen to us. He was too busy making all big shot."
Pearl Harbor was Federal land so the local police had no real jurisdiction there. If you wanted to dance on Federal property, the word Leavenworth had to be in your vocabulary. Most of us obeyed the law to a tee when hanging out on Federal property. There was no such thing as speeding on military bases.
"So who are the two mokes? Chucky making too much money?"
Mr. Ukulele shrugged his large shoulders. "He was banging bets too. Not turning them in. He was losing big time. As in thousands."
Chucky was eating bets. Instead of turning them in to the house, he was holding on to them in hopes the bets would lose. That way he collected the money. The bad part was when the bets won, you had to pay. He must have been using some of the drug money to pay off his losses, or maybe not paying them off at all. If you don't pay for drugs, people come looking for you.
"The best thing you can do for him right now is to help me find him. It sounds like he's in trouble. You better hope we find him before some other less understanding people do. As in being found in the cane fields."
They nodded to me gravely.
My room felt dark and cold as I entered. The howling wind and my windows rattling were the only sounds I heard. I sat down on my couch and watched the rain flood my lanai.
Samantha was in trouble, no doubt about that. How deep she was in, well, that would come out sooner or later. Chucky sounded like he was in so deep he would need a backhoe to dig himself out. Either that or he would have to turn.
Sakama's part in all this made no sense. For someone who had an ongoing investigation, he didn't seem to know much. Greenie was the only one who didn't have anything to worry about, and that was because he was dead.
I sat there and wondered what I had gotten myself into. Charles Royce had been a friend but even friendship has limits. How far would I have to go to get Samantha out of her jam?
I walked over to the sliding doors and looked out over the city. The lights of Waikiki were scattered by the falling rain. My poor little bonsai tree rocked and shook in the wind. I wondered if it would be able to weather the storm.
"We don't want to get him in any trouble," Slick said. "First the cop came looking, then you, then the two mokes. We don't know where he is. His girlfriend ain't seen him for a couple of days. We hoped you could tell us what's going on. As in what the hell this is all about."
"Who's his girl?"
Mr. Ukulele spoke up. "Some chick who lives in Kaneohe. Her name's Cindy Kalama. She when call a couple of times looking for him. As in she don't know where he stay either."
Slicks peculiar way of expressing himself was apparently contagious. I put down my glass. "You guys gotta help me. I don't know a whole lot about what's going on. If you guys are his friends, then you of all people should know what he was into. If you came here to try and get some information from me to warn him, it's too late. You know that. He's already in trouble. The best thing you can do for him now is to tell me what he was into and to help me find him. Before the other guys do. Understand."
Slick turned to his friend and mumbled something to him. They nodded to each other and turned to face me. "You no can say who told you this, okay? As in we weren't here."
I nodded.
"You was right. Chucky was running bets. That was small time. He was also dealing. As in drugs."
I raised my eyebrows. "No kidding."
Slick shook his head. "We when try for warn him. We told him he was dealing with Feds and not the local cops. He knew that if he got caught it wasn't just jail, it was going be Federal prison. As in hard time. As in making gravel. As in no parole."
Mr. Ukulele nodded in agreement.
"He never like listen to us. He was too busy making all big shot."
Pearl Harbor was Federal land so the local police had no real jurisdiction there. If you wanted to dance on Federal property, the word Leavenworth had to be in your vocabulary. Most of us obeyed the law to a tee when hanging out on Federal property. There was no such thing as speeding on military bases.
"So who are the two mokes? Chucky making too much money?"
Mr. Ukulele shrugged his large shoulders. "He was banging bets too. Not turning them in. He was losing big time. As in thousands."
Chucky was eating bets. Instead of turning them in to the house, he was holding on to them in hopes the bets would lose. That way he collected the money. The bad part was when the bets won, you had to pay. He must have been using some of the drug money to pay off his losses, or maybe not paying them off at all. If you don't pay for drugs, people come looking for you.
"The best thing you can do for him right now is to help me find him. It sounds like he's in trouble. You better hope we find him before some other less understanding people do. As in being found in the cane fields."
They nodded to me gravely.
My room felt dark and cold as I entered. The howling wind and my windows rattling were the only sounds I heard. I sat down on my couch and watched the rain flood my lanai.
Samantha was in trouble, no doubt about that. How deep she was in, well, that would come out sooner or later. Chucky sounded like he was in so deep he would need a backhoe to dig himself out. Either that or he would have to turn.
Sakama's part in all this made no sense. For someone who had an ongoing investigation, he didn't seem to know much. Greenie was the only one who didn't have anything to worry about, and that was because he was dead.
I sat there and wondered what I had gotten myself into. Charles Royce had been a friend but even friendship has limits. How far would I have to go to get Samantha out of her jam?
I walked over to the sliding doors and looked out over the city. The lights of Waikiki were scattered by the falling rain. My poor little bonsai tree rocked and shook in the wind. I wondered if it would be able to weather the storm.
ch9 pg 61-62
I sat back down and thought about the bullet I had just dodged. It was nice to have friends in high places. Although Ronnie had given me a big break, leaving it up to me find my own way left me out in the open.
I suddenly felt tired. Leinani had sure picked a great time to call. As if I didn't already have enough on my mind. Here I was again, walking that thin line between black and white.
Sakama had bigger problems. Since no one actually complained about football gambling, he really had no where to go and no one to arrest. I think it was Charley Royce who one told me that if we had to enforce the letter of the law, everyone would be in jail.
Gambling on football was nothing compared to the other things that happened in the islands.
I was pondering this though when Jeff walked up to me and handed me the phone.
"Sir, you have two people here at the desk asking for you." It was Norma, she worked the front desk at night.
"They say who they are or what they want?"
"No sir, they wont' give their names. All the say is that you visited them this afternoon and they want to see you."
That made me curious. "Send them here. And Norma, please don't call me sir."
I walked back to the bar and handed Jeff back his phone. He pushed a bowl of beer snacks in front of me and opened a fresh beer. I took my seat and watched the entrance.
The two guys who walked through the door I recognized immediately. It was the two who had taken so kindly to me at Chucky's house. They glowered at me as they approached the bar.
Slick opened up first: "Two guys came to see us after you left."
I nodded to Jeff and he placed two beers on the bar in front of them. I wondered what they were talking about.
Mr. Ukulele grinned. "I guess you wondering what we talking about."
"You guys were so receptive this afternoon. Makes me wonder what you're doing here."
This was peculiar. Locals usually didn't go to outsiders for help.
Slick and Mr. Ukulele looked at each other.
"Look, you wanna hear what we got or not?" Slick asked.
I motioned to them to go on. "Talk to me."
Mr. Ukulele gave Slick the nod. "Two braddahs came looking for Chucky after you left."
"Two big mokes," Mr. Ukulele added.
A moke usually meant a large Polynesian person. The description was reserved for guys that pushed their weight around and didn't care who knew. A moke would stand at a crowded bus stop and ask you for your bus fare.
"What they want?" I directed my question to Slick.
"Chucky's in trouble. The guys were there to collect. As in money. As in drugs."
That was interesting. "So why come to me?"
Their eyes fixed on mine. This was a major lapse in local etiquette and their apprehension showed. They decided I was a good guy.
"You said you could help him," Slick said. "Besides, we saw the cop form this afternoon leave here just now. You must be working for em."
Mr. Ukulele nodded his head in agreement. They had mentioned this afternoon that a short stocky officer had paid them a visit. Sakama hadn't mentioned Chucky's name tonight.
"How well you guys know Chucky?" I asked.
"He's my friend. As in good friends," Slick said. He took a sip of his beer and began to peel the label off the bottle.
"How long did he work at Pearl?"
Mr. Ukulele had to think about that. He looked over at Slick and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe four of five months."
"Yeah, he applied to the fire department and the police academy but he got that job first," Slick added.
I sipped my beer and looked the two of them over. They seemed to be genuinely interested in Chucky's well being. "Look, I know Chucky was running bets for some people. What else was he into?"
I suddenly felt tired. Leinani had sure picked a great time to call. As if I didn't already have enough on my mind. Here I was again, walking that thin line between black and white.
Sakama had bigger problems. Since no one actually complained about football gambling, he really had no where to go and no one to arrest. I think it was Charley Royce who one told me that if we had to enforce the letter of the law, everyone would be in jail.
Gambling on football was nothing compared to the other things that happened in the islands.
I was pondering this though when Jeff walked up to me and handed me the phone.
"Sir, you have two people here at the desk asking for you." It was Norma, she worked the front desk at night.
"They say who they are or what they want?"
"No sir, they wont' give their names. All the say is that you visited them this afternoon and they want to see you."
That made me curious. "Send them here. And Norma, please don't call me sir."
I walked back to the bar and handed Jeff back his phone. He pushed a bowl of beer snacks in front of me and opened a fresh beer. I took my seat and watched the entrance.
The two guys who walked through the door I recognized immediately. It was the two who had taken so kindly to me at Chucky's house. They glowered at me as they approached the bar.
Slick opened up first: "Two guys came to see us after you left."
I nodded to Jeff and he placed two beers on the bar in front of them. I wondered what they were talking about.
Mr. Ukulele grinned. "I guess you wondering what we talking about."
"You guys were so receptive this afternoon. Makes me wonder what you're doing here."
This was peculiar. Locals usually didn't go to outsiders for help.
Slick and Mr. Ukulele looked at each other.
"Look, you wanna hear what we got or not?" Slick asked.
I motioned to them to go on. "Talk to me."
Mr. Ukulele gave Slick the nod. "Two braddahs came looking for Chucky after you left."
"Two big mokes," Mr. Ukulele added.
A moke usually meant a large Polynesian person. The description was reserved for guys that pushed their weight around and didn't care who knew. A moke would stand at a crowded bus stop and ask you for your bus fare.
"What they want?" I directed my question to Slick.
"Chucky's in trouble. The guys were there to collect. As in money. As in drugs."
That was interesting. "So why come to me?"
Their eyes fixed on mine. This was a major lapse in local etiquette and their apprehension showed. They decided I was a good guy.
"You said you could help him," Slick said. "Besides, we saw the cop form this afternoon leave here just now. You must be working for em."
Mr. Ukulele nodded his head in agreement. They had mentioned this afternoon that a short stocky officer had paid them a visit. Sakama hadn't mentioned Chucky's name tonight.
"How well you guys know Chucky?" I asked.
"He's my friend. As in good friends," Slick said. He took a sip of his beer and began to peel the label off the bottle.
"How long did he work at Pearl?"
Mr. Ukulele had to think about that. He looked over at Slick and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe four of five months."
"Yeah, he applied to the fire department and the police academy but he got that job first," Slick added.
I sipped my beer and looked the two of them over. They seemed to be genuinely interested in Chucky's well being. "Look, I know Chucky was running bets for some people. What else was he into?"
ch9 pg 58-60
THE Study used to be your typical tropical bar decorated with tiki heads and fake plants. I got rid of the plastic palms and stuffed parrots that lined the walls. Now, three sides of the room were lined with bookshelves and reading lamps. The center of the room was occupied by a long magazine rack which held the most recent periodicals and newspapers. Above that was a three hundred gallon salt water fish tank stocked with local marine life. A four piece jazz combo played softly in the corner.
I spent a lot of time here.
The bartender, Jeff, saw me enter and gave me a nod. He was busy keeping two young ladies seated before him entertained. He was an ex-volleyball player who when dressed in his white shirt and bow tie never failed to attract the females.
A group of five workers were sitting at a table talking and having their off shift beverages. Three of the women I recognized were from the pool bar and the two men were from the dining room. The three waitresses saw me and started to giggle. In sing song voices, they acknowledged me as I walked by.
Most of the hotels here had rules about workers staying on hotel property. You were usually allowed only one half hour before and after your shift. Hotel employees ended up blowing off steam at other hotels. I thought that if they were going to have fun, they might as well do it were they were safe.
I took my seat at the corner of the koa wood bar. That stool was always unoccupied. Living here had certain privileges.
Jeff came over and placed a beer and a glass in front of me. I poured my own.
"I just finished this book you might like. I put it on your shelf."
He was an avid reader and often made recommendations. Every night, he took a new book home with him. His job description was bartender/librarian.
"I haven't finished the last one you gave me."
He smiled at me. "You should make time to read Mr. D. Some of the new stuff is pretty good." He went off to take care of his harem.
A guest came up to me and started to thank me for something I did. I smiled and nodded at her while I wondered what Ronnie had on me and what part of my story I was going to leave out.
"And next year we're bringing our daughter. She's just dying to meet you."
She kissed me on the cheek.
"I'm sure the pleasure will be all mine," I said. I sipped my beer feeling like I was so hopeless that even my guests were trying to fix me up.
Ronnie entered The Study followed by a short Japanese man wearing a pressed dress shirt and dark slacks. Ronnie wore the same clothes he had on this afternoon. I motioned them over to a corner table and ordered a round of beers.
"Darling, this is Cal Sakama out of vice. He works the "Six-Five" detail."
Sakama had short dark hair and a tan to match. His muscular arms and upper body filled the shirt he was wearing till the buttons looked ready to pop. He nodded to me as I shook his hand. Sakama was in charge of investigating the football betting houses.
"Cal and his boys have been watching this guy Michael Green. They know he runs gambling house."
Sakama sat up in his chair and addressed me. "We've been watching him for some time now. We were trying to identify any partners he had, but now he's dropped out of sight. No one has seen him for at least thirty six hours. We'd like to go and check his apartment, but we don't want him to know we're on to him.
You gotta love cops. I buy them a beer and they try to shine me on.
"You won't need a warrant to search. He's dead." I drank down my remains of my beer.
Ronnie and Sakama looked at each other. They both knew Greenie was dead before they came here. If someone like Freddie knew, everyone knew.
"You're the one who made the call?" Sakama asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Let's not play around. Greenie was up to something and you guys have no clue what it was. I think we're on the same page here."
"Obstructing justice is a serious offense," Ronnie reminded me.
"I didn't say how I knew he was dead. I just said he was. The way I look at, you guys wouldn't have known for at least another day."
The waitress appeared and placed two cloth napkins in front of them. She poured their beers and I thanked her.
I waited for the two officers to say something.
They looked at each other again before picking up their glasses. I noticed Sakama waited for Ronnie before touching his glass.
Ronnie took a sip of his before and cleared his throat. "Darling, a witness said some local guy was standing by his door this afternoon."
That would be the Chinese woman who passed me in the hall. I didn't think she would be able to make me with the dark glasses I had on.
"With those dark glasses you were wearing, I don't think she'd be able to I.D. you," Ronnie said.
I wanted to smile but instead I shrugged my shoulders. "You going to work with or against me on this?"
Sakama and Ronnie exchanged glances. All this cat and mouse was starting to wear thin.
"Sakama-"
"Cal, call me Cal."
"Look, I have no official capacity in this. What I can get is information from people that might not feel comfortable talking to you nice folks. I want to know what happened as much as you do."
Ronnie stood up. He was clearly the senior badge and he looked like he was sick of the games too.
"Okay Darling, the fact that you knew about the murder and knew enough to tip us off tells me you're willing to play ball. I'll give you a go at this one as long as you keep us informed. If not we gotta pick you up."
"Who said anything about a murder?" I asked.
Ronnie stopped and gave me a blank look.
Sakama shook my hand and followed Ronnie towards the door.
Ronnie turned and said in a low voice: "Next time you find a stiff, call."
I nodded my head and watched them leave.
I spent a lot of time here.
The bartender, Jeff, saw me enter and gave me a nod. He was busy keeping two young ladies seated before him entertained. He was an ex-volleyball player who when dressed in his white shirt and bow tie never failed to attract the females.
A group of five workers were sitting at a table talking and having their off shift beverages. Three of the women I recognized were from the pool bar and the two men were from the dining room. The three waitresses saw me and started to giggle. In sing song voices, they acknowledged me as I walked by.
Most of the hotels here had rules about workers staying on hotel property. You were usually allowed only one half hour before and after your shift. Hotel employees ended up blowing off steam at other hotels. I thought that if they were going to have fun, they might as well do it were they were safe.
I took my seat at the corner of the koa wood bar. That stool was always unoccupied. Living here had certain privileges.
Jeff came over and placed a beer and a glass in front of me. I poured my own.
"I just finished this book you might like. I put it on your shelf."
He was an avid reader and often made recommendations. Every night, he took a new book home with him. His job description was bartender/librarian.
"I haven't finished the last one you gave me."
He smiled at me. "You should make time to read Mr. D. Some of the new stuff is pretty good." He went off to take care of his harem.
A guest came up to me and started to thank me for something I did. I smiled and nodded at her while I wondered what Ronnie had on me and what part of my story I was going to leave out.
"And next year we're bringing our daughter. She's just dying to meet you."
She kissed me on the cheek.
"I'm sure the pleasure will be all mine," I said. I sipped my beer feeling like I was so hopeless that even my guests were trying to fix me up.
Ronnie entered The Study followed by a short Japanese man wearing a pressed dress shirt and dark slacks. Ronnie wore the same clothes he had on this afternoon. I motioned them over to a corner table and ordered a round of beers.
"Darling, this is Cal Sakama out of vice. He works the "Six-Five" detail."
Sakama had short dark hair and a tan to match. His muscular arms and upper body filled the shirt he was wearing till the buttons looked ready to pop. He nodded to me as I shook his hand. Sakama was in charge of investigating the football betting houses.
"Cal and his boys have been watching this guy Michael Green. They know he runs gambling house."
Sakama sat up in his chair and addressed me. "We've been watching him for some time now. We were trying to identify any partners he had, but now he's dropped out of sight. No one has seen him for at least thirty six hours. We'd like to go and check his apartment, but we don't want him to know we're on to him.
You gotta love cops. I buy them a beer and they try to shine me on.
"You won't need a warrant to search. He's dead." I drank down my remains of my beer.
Ronnie and Sakama looked at each other. They both knew Greenie was dead before they came here. If someone like Freddie knew, everyone knew.
"You're the one who made the call?" Sakama asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Let's not play around. Greenie was up to something and you guys have no clue what it was. I think we're on the same page here."
"Obstructing justice is a serious offense," Ronnie reminded me.
"I didn't say how I knew he was dead. I just said he was. The way I look at, you guys wouldn't have known for at least another day."
The waitress appeared and placed two cloth napkins in front of them. She poured their beers and I thanked her.
I waited for the two officers to say something.
They looked at each other again before picking up their glasses. I noticed Sakama waited for Ronnie before touching his glass.
Ronnie took a sip of his before and cleared his throat. "Darling, a witness said some local guy was standing by his door this afternoon."
That would be the Chinese woman who passed me in the hall. I didn't think she would be able to make me with the dark glasses I had on.
"With those dark glasses you were wearing, I don't think she'd be able to I.D. you," Ronnie said.
I wanted to smile but instead I shrugged my shoulders. "You going to work with or against me on this?"
Sakama and Ronnie exchanged glances. All this cat and mouse was starting to wear thin.
"Sakama-"
"Cal, call me Cal."
"Look, I have no official capacity in this. What I can get is information from people that might not feel comfortable talking to you nice folks. I want to know what happened as much as you do."
Ronnie stood up. He was clearly the senior badge and he looked like he was sick of the games too.
"Okay Darling, the fact that you knew about the murder and knew enough to tip us off tells me you're willing to play ball. I'll give you a go at this one as long as you keep us informed. If not we gotta pick you up."
"Who said anything about a murder?" I asked.
Ronnie stopped and gave me a blank look.
Sakama shook my hand and followed Ronnie towards the door.
Ronnie turned and said in a low voice: "Next time you find a stiff, call."
I nodded my head and watched them leave.
ch9 pg 56-57
THE night girl Roxanne looked up from her book and acknowledged us as we walked by. There were no messages.
I stood at the bar and poured Samantha and myself a drink. The rain continued to splatter my window and rattle the sliding doors. She took the glass from my hand as I sat down.
"That might explain where the money came from, Greenie's bets."
"But why would he send it to me?" Samantha took a seat next to me on the couch.
That was a good point. Why? If the money was meant for her, why kill him and then start to look for it? Dead men don't talk.
Samantha got up and stood in front of the window. Her silhouette was outlined by the dim lights of the city. She arched her back as she took a sip from her glass.
I had seen enough. The two of us alone looking at the lights of Waikiki was enough for me to get up and turn on the lamp. I walked over to the window and stood next to her.
"Why don't you sleep on it? It's been a long day for you."
"I slept all day."
The heat from her body made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Her dark eyes, glimmering from the light of the lamp locked onto mine.
It hit me that I was in a penthouse suite on Waikiki Beach with a beautiful woman next to me. If that wasn't enough, we were sipping drinks and it was raining. Samantha was on deck waiting for a chance at bat.
I got back to business. As soon as Ronnie got wind of this thing, he would want answers. I stepped back and cleared my throat. "How many runners did you work with?"
Samantha turned away from me and stared out into the night. "I think there were six. Chucky Silva took care of Pearl. Steve, he worked the hotels in Waikiki. Greenie mentioned a guy named Rick, I don't remember his last name, he worked the North Shore. The three others were small timers. There was some guy named Chris, another guy named Gary and a woman he called Gwen. I never met them or got their last names."
The runners were people who collected the bets, but even runners had people that worked for them. Wives, friends, cousins, anyone who was interested in putting some action in took a piece of the pie. Runners usually took ten percent of the six-five action. If the runner had someone else taking bets, he would split that amount.
"Any idea what shop Chucky worked in?" Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard was made up on different shops and divisions.
"Chucky was a sheet metal worker." She was all business now.
"What about the Steve guy? What hotel did he work in?"
Samantha wheeled around and faced me. "Is this an interrogation?"
I sighed and put my hands on her bare shoulders. "You have to help me out on this. The cops are going to be breathing down my neck wondering just how much you know about the whole thing. I need something to keep them off my back."
She realized I was right. "I don't know what hotel Steve worked at. Rick worked at one of the surf shops in Haleiwa. They both brought in a ton of action."
"I need some specifics Samantha."
"I can't tell you what I don't know," she said as she broke away from me and pouted on the couch.
The phone rang.
"Yes?"
"Darling, we gotta talk." It was Ronnie.
"What's up?"
"I'm coming over."
That wouldn't do. "Meet me at The Study."
"Wait for us." He hung up.
Who was 'us?' I turned to face Samantha. "There's one more thing I have to check out. I'll be a while, but you'll be okay here."
"Do you have to go out now?"
I looked into her eyes and nodded my head. The fact that I was ten years older than she was brought me back to reality.
"You go and get some sleep. I'll be back before you know it."
"Wake me when you get back."
I was waiting for that but when I got it, I didn't know what to do with it. I just nodded and walked out the door.
Roxanne looked up at me as I passed her desk.
"I'll be in The Study," I told her.
She nodded back as the elevator doors opened.
I stood at the bar and poured Samantha and myself a drink. The rain continued to splatter my window and rattle the sliding doors. She took the glass from my hand as I sat down.
"That might explain where the money came from, Greenie's bets."
"But why would he send it to me?" Samantha took a seat next to me on the couch.
That was a good point. Why? If the money was meant for her, why kill him and then start to look for it? Dead men don't talk.
Samantha got up and stood in front of the window. Her silhouette was outlined by the dim lights of the city. She arched her back as she took a sip from her glass.
I had seen enough. The two of us alone looking at the lights of Waikiki was enough for me to get up and turn on the lamp. I walked over to the window and stood next to her.
"Why don't you sleep on it? It's been a long day for you."
"I slept all day."
The heat from her body made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Her dark eyes, glimmering from the light of the lamp locked onto mine.
It hit me that I was in a penthouse suite on Waikiki Beach with a beautiful woman next to me. If that wasn't enough, we were sipping drinks and it was raining. Samantha was on deck waiting for a chance at bat.
I got back to business. As soon as Ronnie got wind of this thing, he would want answers. I stepped back and cleared my throat. "How many runners did you work with?"
Samantha turned away from me and stared out into the night. "I think there were six. Chucky Silva took care of Pearl. Steve, he worked the hotels in Waikiki. Greenie mentioned a guy named Rick, I don't remember his last name, he worked the North Shore. The three others were small timers. There was some guy named Chris, another guy named Gary and a woman he called Gwen. I never met them or got their last names."
The runners were people who collected the bets, but even runners had people that worked for them. Wives, friends, cousins, anyone who was interested in putting some action in took a piece of the pie. Runners usually took ten percent of the six-five action. If the runner had someone else taking bets, he would split that amount.
"Any idea what shop Chucky worked in?" Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard was made up on different shops and divisions.
"Chucky was a sheet metal worker." She was all business now.
"What about the Steve guy? What hotel did he work in?"
Samantha wheeled around and faced me. "Is this an interrogation?"
I sighed and put my hands on her bare shoulders. "You have to help me out on this. The cops are going to be breathing down my neck wondering just how much you know about the whole thing. I need something to keep them off my back."
She realized I was right. "I don't know what hotel Steve worked at. Rick worked at one of the surf shops in Haleiwa. They both brought in a ton of action."
"I need some specifics Samantha."
"I can't tell you what I don't know," she said as she broke away from me and pouted on the couch.
The phone rang.
"Yes?"
"Darling, we gotta talk." It was Ronnie.
"What's up?"
"I'm coming over."
That wouldn't do. "Meet me at The Study."
"Wait for us." He hung up.
Who was 'us?' I turned to face Samantha. "There's one more thing I have to check out. I'll be a while, but you'll be okay here."
"Do you have to go out now?"
I looked into her eyes and nodded my head. The fact that I was ten years older than she was brought me back to reality.
"You go and get some sleep. I'll be back before you know it."
"Wake me when you get back."
I was waiting for that but when I got it, I didn't know what to do with it. I just nodded and walked out the door.
Roxanne looked up at me as I passed her desk.
"I'll be in The Study," I told her.
She nodded back as the elevator doors opened.
ch8 pg 53-55
IT was quiet in the Rover as I drove back into Waikiki. I turned on the radio and fiddled with it to break the silence.
Green did have something going. The what and how was slowly beginning to come together.
I looked over to the woman I had seated next to me. Samantha's eyes were focused straight ahead and the muscles in her jaws were working over time. She had things on her mind too.
The rain had the windshield wipers working over time too. Ala Moana Boulevard was a mess of puddles and drivers trying to avoid them.
"Where's your husband?"
Samantha cleared her throat. "I"m divorced."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not." She looked out the windshield.
So much for ice breakers. The rain began to come down harder. I turned the wipers up a notch and decided to try again.
"I guess you don't see too much of him."
"Not if I can help it," she retorted.
I was digging myself a deep hole.
A car swerved into my lane and slowed. I extended my right arm out and held it in front of Samantha as I hit the brakes.
"That was close. You okay?" I asked her. My right hand was on her right shoulder. My arm covered her breasts.
She looked down at my arm and smiled.
I put my hand back on the steering wheel. Despite the airconditioning, my face grew warm.
"My marriage lasted only a year. Looking back, I think I was in a rush to get married. Most of my friend already were. I guess I felt left out. After Daddy died, there was no one."
"Who left who?" I asked.
"I left him," she said, putting the emphasis on the 'I'. Took all my things and moved out in one day. I realized then how little I had. I took my five boxes and rented an apartment. Bastard didn't even try to find me. Last time I saw him was in court. Didn't even say a word to me."
I tried to think of something to say. Nothing came.
"Best move of my life." There was a smile on her face.
The Rover took us back into Waikiki without further trouble. In this case, silence was golden. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her looking at me.
"I didn't imagine you as Japanese," she said. "I mean with name like Darling, I never would have guessed."
"Japanese with some Okinawan thrown in. It seems that my great grandfather stole someone's passport to get here. He was too young to get on the boat, so he stole some dead guy's credentials."
"That's why you have a hauole name?"
I could feel her eyes on me. Getting us back safely was the only thing on my mind. At least I tried to make it the only thing.
"You know, you could pass as a hauole." Samantha's eyes lit up each time we passed under a streetlight.
"Is that a compliment?" I asked.
"No, just an observation."
I let her comment pass as just that. The traffic on Kalakaua Boulevard was intense. Tourists lined the street looking for shelter from the rain.
"Sometimes," I said, "when I walk Waikiki at night, the hookers come up to me and speak to me in Japanese."
"You ever take them up?"
"I don't understand what they're saying."
We both laughed. She grinned at me when I glanced over at her. Our eyes met and I quickly looked away.
Her smile made me uneasy.
Green did have something going. The what and how was slowly beginning to come together.
I looked over to the woman I had seated next to me. Samantha's eyes were focused straight ahead and the muscles in her jaws were working over time. She had things on her mind too.
The rain had the windshield wipers working over time too. Ala Moana Boulevard was a mess of puddles and drivers trying to avoid them.
"Where's your husband?"
Samantha cleared her throat. "I"m divorced."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not." She looked out the windshield.
So much for ice breakers. The rain began to come down harder. I turned the wipers up a notch and decided to try again.
"I guess you don't see too much of him."
"Not if I can help it," she retorted.
I was digging myself a deep hole.
A car swerved into my lane and slowed. I extended my right arm out and held it in front of Samantha as I hit the brakes.
"That was close. You okay?" I asked her. My right hand was on her right shoulder. My arm covered her breasts.
She looked down at my arm and smiled.
I put my hand back on the steering wheel. Despite the airconditioning, my face grew warm.
"My marriage lasted only a year. Looking back, I think I was in a rush to get married. Most of my friend already were. I guess I felt left out. After Daddy died, there was no one."
"Who left who?" I asked.
"I left him," she said, putting the emphasis on the 'I'. Took all my things and moved out in one day. I realized then how little I had. I took my five boxes and rented an apartment. Bastard didn't even try to find me. Last time I saw him was in court. Didn't even say a word to me."
I tried to think of something to say. Nothing came.
"Best move of my life." There was a smile on her face.
The Rover took us back into Waikiki without further trouble. In this case, silence was golden. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her looking at me.
"I didn't imagine you as Japanese," she said. "I mean with name like Darling, I never would have guessed."
"Japanese with some Okinawan thrown in. It seems that my great grandfather stole someone's passport to get here. He was too young to get on the boat, so he stole some dead guy's credentials."
"That's why you have a hauole name?"
I could feel her eyes on me. Getting us back safely was the only thing on my mind. At least I tried to make it the only thing.
"You know, you could pass as a hauole." Samantha's eyes lit up each time we passed under a streetlight.
"Is that a compliment?" I asked.
"No, just an observation."
I let her comment pass as just that. The traffic on Kalakaua Boulevard was intense. Tourists lined the street looking for shelter from the rain.
"Sometimes," I said, "when I walk Waikiki at night, the hookers come up to me and speak to me in Japanese."
"You ever take them up?"
"I don't understand what they're saying."
We both laughed. She grinned at me when I glanced over at her. Our eyes met and I quickly looked away.
Her smile made me uneasy.
ch8 pg 51-53
DANNY'S was a small lounge located just outside of the downtown area of Honolulu. I pulled onto Kapiolani Boulevard and headed west into the business district. The rain had lightened to a drizzle. The large drops that spattered the windshield can from the trees that lined the street. I slowed the Rover as we passed Blaisdell Center and hung a left through on coming traffic into the parking lot. A glowing neon light hanging in the window said they were open for business.
"You think it's a good idea?" Samantha asked me. She was having second thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
"I dropped Freddie for Greenie, I mean-"
"Don't worry. It's a business. They play by certain rules too."
I hoped.
Samantha and I entered Danny's Bar and Grill.
The lounge was dimly lit by wall lamps that cast an uneven light around the room. High backed booths lined with cheap vinyl hid the customers from curious eyes. The television sets that were bolted in each corner of the room were all tuned to different channels. The flickering grey light that emitted from them reflected on tables that looked permanently wet. Danny's was a dive.
This was the kind of place I liked. The beers were cheap and people kept to themselves. With Samantha behind me, I followed the worn track in the carpet to the rear of the room where the bar sat. The smell of cigarette smoke and stale beer hung in the air like a bad painting no one wanted to take down. What was behind it was worse than what was in front and after a few drinks you didn't notice it any way.
We took a seat on the worn stools that lined the empty counter. The ashtrays that had been put in place were made out of cheap plastic and looked like they'd been sitting there forever. Premium liquor was lined up in front of the mirror behind the bar above stacks of glasses. Most of the bottles were fairly full and some of them still had unbroken seals. I looked down at the house pours lined up in front of the sink. They all looked like they had come from another planet.
I studied Samantha's reflection in the mirror. Despite the fact that she was sitting in a two dollar drink joint looking like a million bucks, she looked composed and relaxed. Our eyes met and she gave me a brave smile. The bartender approached us.
He was a pale local Chinese who had his hair neatly trimmed in a crew cut. His silky aloha shirt screamed at me from behind his stained apron. He wiped his hands on a dirty wash cloth and stood in front of us. I noticed his nails were manicured.
He smiled at Samantha and gave me a nod. "What can I get you?"
I ordered a beer and watched as the bartender put a glass in front of me. I turned to Samantha. "You see Freddie here?"
Samantha turned and scanned the room. She motioned with her hand to the right. "Over there, in the booth by the clock. The guy sitting alone."
Freddie appeared to be an older Filipino man who sat by himself in booth facing one of the television screens in the room. The twenty four hour sports channel cast his face in various shades of grey. He wore wire rimmed glasses, a baseball cap and a polo shirt. There was a pad in front of him that he kept making notes in while nursing his drink. He didn't look up.
I got a beer set in front of me on a paper napkin. Samantha must have been a regular for without asking she got a glass of what I assumed was wine. I paid the tab and picked up my beer. I motioned for her to follow me.
No use being sneaky, I thought. I walked right up to Freddie's booth and sat down across from him. Samantha took a seat next to me.
Freddie looked up slowly and smiled at her. "Hello Sam. How you been?"
"Fine. How about you?" She masked her nervousness by taking a sip from her glass.
His face broke out in a map of wrinkles as he smiled and chuckled. "I'm a doing a little better than Greenie is right now. Who's your friend?" He motioned to me.
"Freddie, I'm here to help Samantha here out," I said before she could introduce me.
"Well, what can I do for you?" Freddie asked. "I only heard about Mike's problem today."
"Problem?" I asked.
Freddie put his pencil down on his note pad before answering. "You and her wouldn't be sitting in front of me right now if Greenie was still around."
Word on the street apparently traveled as fast as news in my hotel. I wondered what the word on Samantha was.
"Well, I know that you and Greenie must have talked shop once in a while. Maybe you can tell us something we don't know."
Freddie shrugged. "What's to tell? Greenie was stupid. Somebody wen get smart."
"What do you mean he got stupid?"
"Well actually, he got lucky. Too lucky. He came to me to lay off one bet. Told me he had taken in too much action on one game. I wen take em and he ended up taking me for fifteen grand. Happened to me twice and I'll tell you right now it nevah happen again. After that, I wasn't having anything to do with his action. He must have gone elsewhere cause one night he's telling me that he wen clear sixty thousand over the weekend. That's better than he ever did with me. Mike liked to gloat about his winnings."
"I don't understand."
Freddie looked at me, then at Samantha. He was wondering who the hell I was. I let the look slide.
"In Vegas, if they think you counting cards, they show you the door. Or worse."
He had made his point. I motioned to Samantha that it was time for us to leave. We stood up and looked at Freddie.
"They had a partner. Someone else could burn for because of this. The initials C.S. mean anything to you?"
Freddie shook his head. "No. But if it going help I'll ask around. For her."
His eyes went back to his note pad.
We turned to leave.
"Hey Sam," he called out.
She stopped and turned to him.
"You take care. Okay?"
She smiled and nodded to him.
We walked out of Danny's into the rain.
"You think it's a good idea?" Samantha asked me. She was having second thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
"I dropped Freddie for Greenie, I mean-"
"Don't worry. It's a business. They play by certain rules too."
I hoped.
Samantha and I entered Danny's Bar and Grill.
The lounge was dimly lit by wall lamps that cast an uneven light around the room. High backed booths lined with cheap vinyl hid the customers from curious eyes. The television sets that were bolted in each corner of the room were all tuned to different channels. The flickering grey light that emitted from them reflected on tables that looked permanently wet. Danny's was a dive.
This was the kind of place I liked. The beers were cheap and people kept to themselves. With Samantha behind me, I followed the worn track in the carpet to the rear of the room where the bar sat. The smell of cigarette smoke and stale beer hung in the air like a bad painting no one wanted to take down. What was behind it was worse than what was in front and after a few drinks you didn't notice it any way.
We took a seat on the worn stools that lined the empty counter. The ashtrays that had been put in place were made out of cheap plastic and looked like they'd been sitting there forever. Premium liquor was lined up in front of the mirror behind the bar above stacks of glasses. Most of the bottles were fairly full and some of them still had unbroken seals. I looked down at the house pours lined up in front of the sink. They all looked like they had come from another planet.
I studied Samantha's reflection in the mirror. Despite the fact that she was sitting in a two dollar drink joint looking like a million bucks, she looked composed and relaxed. Our eyes met and she gave me a brave smile. The bartender approached us.
He was a pale local Chinese who had his hair neatly trimmed in a crew cut. His silky aloha shirt screamed at me from behind his stained apron. He wiped his hands on a dirty wash cloth and stood in front of us. I noticed his nails were manicured.
He smiled at Samantha and gave me a nod. "What can I get you?"
I ordered a beer and watched as the bartender put a glass in front of me. I turned to Samantha. "You see Freddie here?"
Samantha turned and scanned the room. She motioned with her hand to the right. "Over there, in the booth by the clock. The guy sitting alone."
Freddie appeared to be an older Filipino man who sat by himself in booth facing one of the television screens in the room. The twenty four hour sports channel cast his face in various shades of grey. He wore wire rimmed glasses, a baseball cap and a polo shirt. There was a pad in front of him that he kept making notes in while nursing his drink. He didn't look up.
I got a beer set in front of me on a paper napkin. Samantha must have been a regular for without asking she got a glass of what I assumed was wine. I paid the tab and picked up my beer. I motioned for her to follow me.
No use being sneaky, I thought. I walked right up to Freddie's booth and sat down across from him. Samantha took a seat next to me.
Freddie looked up slowly and smiled at her. "Hello Sam. How you been?"
"Fine. How about you?" She masked her nervousness by taking a sip from her glass.
His face broke out in a map of wrinkles as he smiled and chuckled. "I'm a doing a little better than Greenie is right now. Who's your friend?" He motioned to me.
"Freddie, I'm here to help Samantha here out," I said before she could introduce me.
"Well, what can I do for you?" Freddie asked. "I only heard about Mike's problem today."
"Problem?" I asked.
Freddie put his pencil down on his note pad before answering. "You and her wouldn't be sitting in front of me right now if Greenie was still around."
Word on the street apparently traveled as fast as news in my hotel. I wondered what the word on Samantha was.
"Well, I know that you and Greenie must have talked shop once in a while. Maybe you can tell us something we don't know."
Freddie shrugged. "What's to tell? Greenie was stupid. Somebody wen get smart."
"What do you mean he got stupid?"
"Well actually, he got lucky. Too lucky. He came to me to lay off one bet. Told me he had taken in too much action on one game. I wen take em and he ended up taking me for fifteen grand. Happened to me twice and I'll tell you right now it nevah happen again. After that, I wasn't having anything to do with his action. He must have gone elsewhere cause one night he's telling me that he wen clear sixty thousand over the weekend. That's better than he ever did with me. Mike liked to gloat about his winnings."
"I don't understand."
Freddie looked at me, then at Samantha. He was wondering who the hell I was. I let the look slide.
"In Vegas, if they think you counting cards, they show you the door. Or worse."
He had made his point. I motioned to Samantha that it was time for us to leave. We stood up and looked at Freddie.
"They had a partner. Someone else could burn for because of this. The initials C.S. mean anything to you?"
Freddie shook his head. "No. But if it going help I'll ask around. For her."
His eyes went back to his note pad.
We turned to leave.
"Hey Sam," he called out.
She stopped and turned to him.
"You take care. Okay?"
She smiled and nodded to him.
We walked out of Danny's into the rain.
ch7 pg 48-50
THE sound of splashing water and clinking dishes was hard to miss as Samantha cleaned up in the kitchen. Seeing her there in her black dress standing over the sink made me feel like I'd just kicked a dog.
I was also a bad host.
"The dinner was excellent. You cooked a wonderful meal."
She looked straight ahead while she continued with the pots.
I tried again. "Your father was a lucky man."
She smiled. I put the last plate on the drying rack and faced her.
"Samantha, it would help if you felt comfortable around me. I was wrong back there. If I thought the call was personal, I would have taken it on another phone. I'm sorry you had to hear that. The person I was talking to, she didn't know someone was here and I should've-" I was talking too much. "Forget it. The main thing is that you feel all right around me."
She turned to face me. "I do feel comfortable around you."
"Good. That helps if we plan to get you out of this."
I took her arm and walked her into the living room. The bright lights of Waikiki struggled to shine through the thick walls of rain that fell in front of my windows. We sat down on the couch and faced each other.
"I didn't want to mention this at dinner. There are a few things I found while I was gone today."
"It's okay, I can handle it."
"Greenie is dead."
She sat back and put her hand to her mouth. She bit so hard into her index finger it began to turn white. I put my hand to her face and pulled her hand down.
"I found him cold in his apartment. There were no signs of a struggle or fight. No bullet holes or stab wounds or bleeding that I could see. Just him in his living room."
Samantha sat there on my couch, her gaze focused on some point of light far out on the horizon. I put my arm around her shoulder and tried to tell her not to worry. I could have been talking to a statue. Finally she turned her head to me and searched my eyes.
"I'm in deep." She knew what was she was into.
I didn't. "You got nothing to worry about as long as you're here."
"How-"
"I don't know. Looks like he just dropped in his tracks and died. Maybe he fell and broke his neck. When was the last time you saw him?"
She looked at me and brushed the hair from her eyes. "Friday? I think it was Friday night."
"I had a chance to look around while I was there. You have any idea where he kept his books?"
She shook her head. "I don't know."
I put my arm around her. "This is important. Greenie's book will tell us where the money came from."
"The only time I saw the book was on Tuesdays, when we settled the accounts. He would enter in our wins and losses and figure out the weekend take."
Greenie hadn't made it to Tuesday. That meant his book was still out there. I opened the door to my office and took the slip of paper out of my locked drawer. There were a stack of files on my desk that weren't there this afternoon. Work was beginning to pile up.
I guessed the identities of the initials on the paper. It was obviously the weekend split. M.G. meant Green. S.C. was Samantha. The third set, C.S., I couldn't place. I showed her the slip.
"Any idea who the third set of initials belongs to?"
She looked at the markings and shook her head. It was the last set of initials that matched the largest amount of money I was interested in. I had to be the unseen backing that Greenie and Samantha probably had.
"That could mean Chucky, but he had no stake with us. At least I didn't think he did. Could it be a pay off to another house?"
The houses sometimes worked together, laying off each other's bets and setting the lines. You didn't just book a fifty thousand dollar bet without knowing if you could cover it or not. In this business, there was no such thing as credit.
I shook my head. Someone else was involved here that Samantha was either hiding or she didn't know about.
"Did you look for Chucky Silva? The initials match."
"I don't think he's important right now. The guy is probably laying low just like you. I think we need to go to Danny's."
She stared at me. I answered her before she could ask me why.
"I want to talk to Freddie. He might have information that we need."
I took her hand and made her look at me. "You okay with that?"
Samantha sent an unsure smile my way and nodded her head.
I picked up the phone and asked for Kua and a car. I put my hand over the receiver and looked over at Samantha. "You think Freddie will be there tonight?"
She looked at the clock. "As long as we get there before ten."
I put my ear back to the phone. "Yes? That's okay. I'll drive myself." I turned to Samantha. "Ready?"
She nodded to me and picked up her purse.
I was also a bad host.
"The dinner was excellent. You cooked a wonderful meal."
She looked straight ahead while she continued with the pots.
I tried again. "Your father was a lucky man."
She smiled. I put the last plate on the drying rack and faced her.
"Samantha, it would help if you felt comfortable around me. I was wrong back there. If I thought the call was personal, I would have taken it on another phone. I'm sorry you had to hear that. The person I was talking to, she didn't know someone was here and I should've-" I was talking too much. "Forget it. The main thing is that you feel all right around me."
She turned to face me. "I do feel comfortable around you."
"Good. That helps if we plan to get you out of this."
I took her arm and walked her into the living room. The bright lights of Waikiki struggled to shine through the thick walls of rain that fell in front of my windows. We sat down on the couch and faced each other.
"I didn't want to mention this at dinner. There are a few things I found while I was gone today."
"It's okay, I can handle it."
"Greenie is dead."
She sat back and put her hand to her mouth. She bit so hard into her index finger it began to turn white. I put my hand to her face and pulled her hand down.
"I found him cold in his apartment. There were no signs of a struggle or fight. No bullet holes or stab wounds or bleeding that I could see. Just him in his living room."
Samantha sat there on my couch, her gaze focused on some point of light far out on the horizon. I put my arm around her shoulder and tried to tell her not to worry. I could have been talking to a statue. Finally she turned her head to me and searched my eyes.
"I'm in deep." She knew what was she was into.
I didn't. "You got nothing to worry about as long as you're here."
"How-"
"I don't know. Looks like he just dropped in his tracks and died. Maybe he fell and broke his neck. When was the last time you saw him?"
She looked at me and brushed the hair from her eyes. "Friday? I think it was Friday night."
"I had a chance to look around while I was there. You have any idea where he kept his books?"
She shook her head. "I don't know."
I put my arm around her. "This is important. Greenie's book will tell us where the money came from."
"The only time I saw the book was on Tuesdays, when we settled the accounts. He would enter in our wins and losses and figure out the weekend take."
Greenie hadn't made it to Tuesday. That meant his book was still out there. I opened the door to my office and took the slip of paper out of my locked drawer. There were a stack of files on my desk that weren't there this afternoon. Work was beginning to pile up.
I guessed the identities of the initials on the paper. It was obviously the weekend split. M.G. meant Green. S.C. was Samantha. The third set, C.S., I couldn't place. I showed her the slip.
"Any idea who the third set of initials belongs to?"
She looked at the markings and shook her head. It was the last set of initials that matched the largest amount of money I was interested in. I had to be the unseen backing that Greenie and Samantha probably had.
"That could mean Chucky, but he had no stake with us. At least I didn't think he did. Could it be a pay off to another house?"
The houses sometimes worked together, laying off each other's bets and setting the lines. You didn't just book a fifty thousand dollar bet without knowing if you could cover it or not. In this business, there was no such thing as credit.
I shook my head. Someone else was involved here that Samantha was either hiding or she didn't know about.
"Did you look for Chucky Silva? The initials match."
"I don't think he's important right now. The guy is probably laying low just like you. I think we need to go to Danny's."
She stared at me. I answered her before she could ask me why.
"I want to talk to Freddie. He might have information that we need."
I took her hand and made her look at me. "You okay with that?"
Samantha sent an unsure smile my way and nodded her head.
I picked up the phone and asked for Kua and a car. I put my hand over the receiver and looked over at Samantha. "You think Freddie will be there tonight?"
She looked at the clock. "As long as we get there before ten."
I put my ear back to the phone. "Yes? That's okay. I'll drive myself." I turned to Samantha. "Ready?"
She nodded to me and picked up her purse.
ch 7 pg 46-48
"YEAH?"
"Is that the way you answer your phone?"
Leinani. My heart skipped a beat and began to pound in my chest. I made a note to change my private number.
"Leinani? How are you?" I said in my sterile office voice. I had only to look at Samantha to see why.
"I saw you at the hotel today and thought I'd give you a call."
"It's a surprise to hear from you." That was an understatement. Why was she calling me? She just thought she'd check in after four years?
"I just wanted to see how you were doing. It's been a long time."
Samantha came into the room and handed me another beer. She watched me for a second and went back into the kitchen.
Leinani knew how I was doing. I didn't really want to know how she was. I was afraid of the truth.
"Oh, it's been okay," I replied.
"Well, I saw you today and I just thought-" she paused.
"Is everything all right?" I asked. Her tone worried me. She did not sound like herself.
"Yes, I'm okay. It's just that-"
The indecision in her voice was obvious. She wanted to say something but she was unsure of how to say it.
I took a deep breath. "You've called me at an awkward time." I felt just as uncomfortable as she did. "Maybe we could talk another time? I could-"
"I'm sorry. I just thought that-"
My chest tightened up. I refused to admit that she still held some strings to my heart. "I want to talk to you, it's just that now is not the time. Maybe I could-"
"Sure," she said, cutting me off, "You know where I am," she said before hanging up.
I sighed.
"Another broken heart?"
I looked up at Samantha as I put the phone down on it's base. The look on my face made her drop her eyes and stare at the floor.
"I didn't mean that. I just assumed-" she stopped. "Why don't I serve up some dinner."
Leinani's call put me in a mood. There was unfinished business between us, business that might no ever get settled. It seemed like we both had a lot to say to each other and yet we had trouble figuring out what it was. I like to live my life in black and white. It seemed that there would always be a grey area between us.
Samantha walked back to the kitchen without looking at me. I began to feel guilty for treating her like that. She had no way of knowing.
She returned with two plates that contained my favorite, lasagna. She set one down in front of me and took a seat across the table.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I was just trying to make a joke." Her eyes avoided mine as she picked at her plate.
I stared at my food before answering. "Samantha, it is a joke."
"Your girlfriend?"
I poked at my food with my fork. "Former."
Dinner was not a success. The sound of Leinani's voice and the reason of her call preoccupied me.
We ate in silence.
"Is that the way you answer your phone?"
Leinani. My heart skipped a beat and began to pound in my chest. I made a note to change my private number.
"Leinani? How are you?" I said in my sterile office voice. I had only to look at Samantha to see why.
"I saw you at the hotel today and thought I'd give you a call."
"It's a surprise to hear from you." That was an understatement. Why was she calling me? She just thought she'd check in after four years?
"I just wanted to see how you were doing. It's been a long time."
Samantha came into the room and handed me another beer. She watched me for a second and went back into the kitchen.
Leinani knew how I was doing. I didn't really want to know how she was. I was afraid of the truth.
"Oh, it's been okay," I replied.
"Well, I saw you today and I just thought-" she paused.
"Is everything all right?" I asked. Her tone worried me. She did not sound like herself.
"Yes, I'm okay. It's just that-"
The indecision in her voice was obvious. She wanted to say something but she was unsure of how to say it.
I took a deep breath. "You've called me at an awkward time." I felt just as uncomfortable as she did. "Maybe we could talk another time? I could-"
"I'm sorry. I just thought that-"
My chest tightened up. I refused to admit that she still held some strings to my heart. "I want to talk to you, it's just that now is not the time. Maybe I could-"
"Sure," she said, cutting me off, "You know where I am," she said before hanging up.
I sighed.
"Another broken heart?"
I looked up at Samantha as I put the phone down on it's base. The look on my face made her drop her eyes and stare at the floor.
"I didn't mean that. I just assumed-" she stopped. "Why don't I serve up some dinner."
Leinani's call put me in a mood. There was unfinished business between us, business that might no ever get settled. It seemed like we both had a lot to say to each other and yet we had trouble figuring out what it was. I like to live my life in black and white. It seemed that there would always be a grey area between us.
Samantha walked back to the kitchen without looking at me. I began to feel guilty for treating her like that. She had no way of knowing.
She returned with two plates that contained my favorite, lasagna. She set one down in front of me and took a seat across the table.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I was just trying to make a joke." Her eyes avoided mine as she picked at her plate.
I stared at my food before answering. "Samantha, it is a joke."
"Your girlfriend?"
I poked at my food with my fork. "Former."
Dinner was not a success. The sound of Leinani's voice and the reason of her call preoccupied me.
We ate in silence.
ch 7 pg 43-46
THE Islander was a small inn compared to the mega hotels in Waikiki. What made us unique was that we were a full service hotel. I believed that people payed for service. As a guest, all you had to do was ask, and it was done. Tipping was not allowed.
If you've ever been on a cruise or stayed at a four star hotel, you know what I'm talking about. Our slogan was to give the guest more than they expected. In the Islander, there was no want.
Once we flew a messenger over to Maui to acquire a certain type of ice cream that was not available on Oahu. He was back in time for dessert.
My managers were all hand picked, they were the best in their positions. In the four years or so since I had been here, the hotel had finally seen a profit.
Personalized serviced was what I preached. If people wanted to come back to the same hotel, then we were doing our jobs. We offered all the same things the big hotels did, just on a personalized basis. Not a day went by when I didn't see a guest I knew by name. What I was trying to build was a family. I hoped I was succeeding.
That's what I called work.
I got out of the elevator and checked with Mark to see if I had any messages. He smiled at me and shook his head.
"Is our guest up yet?" I asked.
"She's been busy."
Again he hit me with the smile.
I opened up my door and was hit with the smell of cooking food. I was already hungry.
Samantha was sitting on my couch in a strapless dress that stopped above her knees. It looked like it was made out of cotton, but it hugged her body like shrink wrap. She smiled and crossed her legs as I passed her on my way to the kitchen.
I pretended I didn't notice although for second I forgot about the rumble in my stomach.
"What have you been up to?" I asked her.
"I though you might be ready for dinner," she said. "Your kitchen is well equipped so I thought I'd whip something up."
Mary from customer service was in the kitchen. She saw me, wiped her hands on her apron and headed for the table. I looked at her and then at Samantha. Mary gave me a weak smile and made a beeline for the door.
"What inspired you cook dinner?" I asked her. No one had cooked for me in ages. I was flattered.
"I cooked for Daddy all the time," Samantha said as she walked into my seldom used kitchen. "I just wanted you to come back to a home cooked meal."
I followed her and looked around. There were two pots simmering on the stove, their lids rattling with each exhale of steam. The door to the oven was partly open, like she was keeping something warm. The smells sent my stomach rumbling.
"What is it?" I asked, grabbing a beer from the fridge. I reached over to open the oven door but Samantha slammed it shut.
"It's a surprise."
"I love surprises," I said cheerfully. I hated surprises. I sipped my beer and sat down at the dining room table. The phone held my attention as I waited for it to ring.
"Here's your appetizer."
She brought out a plate of oysters on the half shell.
"I got these downstairs," she admitted. "But the rest of dinner I cooked myself."
I dug into the oysters and finished my beer.
"Let me get you another." She grabbed my empty bottle and went back in the kitchen.
I wasn't used to being served in my own home. Samantha seemed anxious to please me. She handed me another beer and took a seat next to me. In her hand was a glass of wine that she brought to her lips and sipped from. I couldn't help feel like I was on a date.
"You read all of those?" she asked, motioning to my bookshelf.
I took a sip of beer and smiled at her. "No, I just keep them there for good looks. If you open them, all the pages are blank." It made me uneasy to think that someone was getting a glimpse of my life. I had lived alone for so long.
She stared at me for a second before she realized I was kidding. Her face broke out in an embarrassed smile. "I've met anyone who reads so much. I used to read a lot."
"What made you stop?"
Samantha's forehead crinkled as she stopped to think. "I guess that I just don't have the time anymore."
"You have to make time."
She got up and walked over to the shelf. The only sound I heard was the swish of fabric as she made her way across the room. I followed her.
"In Cold Blood?"
"Capote. He also wrote Breakfast at Tiffanys."
"I remember the movie. Audrey Hepburn." Her slender hand moved across the shelf.
Samantha was naturally graceful. The way she held herself and the way she walked was enough to grab anyones attention. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her.
"Chandler?"
My spine tingled as she dragged a fingernail across the volumes on the shelf. It was like she was raking her nail across my back.
Samantha looked back at me. "I think I read Chandler in high school." She turned her back to me and continued to scan the volumes on the shelf. "Is that why you are the way you are?"
"What do you mean?"
"Hard boiled."
I blinked my eyes. I had been called a lot of things in my life before, but hard boiled was new to my ears.
"Like an egg?"
She turned and let her dark eyes bore into mine just long enough to tell me she was serious. The dress she wore made her look both seductive and dangerous at the same time.
People have called me cold and calculating. Those in the say I am too quick to trust, too quick to take one's word. The greatest compliment I ever received was when someone called me eccentric. I suppose it meant I was both.
Samantha went back to the books.
"You seem to have an affection for the thirties and forties."
I tried to explain. "I think I was born late. Life now is so planned, so thought out. During those days, men lived by instinct, that's how it was supposed to be."
I leaned against my sliding door and watched the rain cascade against the glass. "Relationships were based upon something. People waited for each other to find their fortunes. People had faith."
I sipped at me beer and looked out the window. I watched her in the reflection on the glass. "Either you loved someone or you didn't. You either found the one you were looking for or you didn't. I believe there's only so much to go around."
I was beginning to lecture. I didn't want to sound like my father.
Samantha smiled at me. I think she knew what I was talking about.
The phone rang.
If you've ever been on a cruise or stayed at a four star hotel, you know what I'm talking about. Our slogan was to give the guest more than they expected. In the Islander, there was no want.
Once we flew a messenger over to Maui to acquire a certain type of ice cream that was not available on Oahu. He was back in time for dessert.
My managers were all hand picked, they were the best in their positions. In the four years or so since I had been here, the hotel had finally seen a profit.
Personalized serviced was what I preached. If people wanted to come back to the same hotel, then we were doing our jobs. We offered all the same things the big hotels did, just on a personalized basis. Not a day went by when I didn't see a guest I knew by name. What I was trying to build was a family. I hoped I was succeeding.
That's what I called work.
I got out of the elevator and checked with Mark to see if I had any messages. He smiled at me and shook his head.
"Is our guest up yet?" I asked.
"She's been busy."
Again he hit me with the smile.
I opened up my door and was hit with the smell of cooking food. I was already hungry.
Samantha was sitting on my couch in a strapless dress that stopped above her knees. It looked like it was made out of cotton, but it hugged her body like shrink wrap. She smiled and crossed her legs as I passed her on my way to the kitchen.
I pretended I didn't notice although for second I forgot about the rumble in my stomach.
"What have you been up to?" I asked her.
"I though you might be ready for dinner," she said. "Your kitchen is well equipped so I thought I'd whip something up."
Mary from customer service was in the kitchen. She saw me, wiped her hands on her apron and headed for the table. I looked at her and then at Samantha. Mary gave me a weak smile and made a beeline for the door.
"What inspired you cook dinner?" I asked her. No one had cooked for me in ages. I was flattered.
"I cooked for Daddy all the time," Samantha said as she walked into my seldom used kitchen. "I just wanted you to come back to a home cooked meal."
I followed her and looked around. There were two pots simmering on the stove, their lids rattling with each exhale of steam. The door to the oven was partly open, like she was keeping something warm. The smells sent my stomach rumbling.
"What is it?" I asked, grabbing a beer from the fridge. I reached over to open the oven door but Samantha slammed it shut.
"It's a surprise."
"I love surprises," I said cheerfully. I hated surprises. I sipped my beer and sat down at the dining room table. The phone held my attention as I waited for it to ring.
"Here's your appetizer."
She brought out a plate of oysters on the half shell.
"I got these downstairs," she admitted. "But the rest of dinner I cooked myself."
I dug into the oysters and finished my beer.
"Let me get you another." She grabbed my empty bottle and went back in the kitchen.
I wasn't used to being served in my own home. Samantha seemed anxious to please me. She handed me another beer and took a seat next to me. In her hand was a glass of wine that she brought to her lips and sipped from. I couldn't help feel like I was on a date.
"You read all of those?" she asked, motioning to my bookshelf.
I took a sip of beer and smiled at her. "No, I just keep them there for good looks. If you open them, all the pages are blank." It made me uneasy to think that someone was getting a glimpse of my life. I had lived alone for so long.
She stared at me for a second before she realized I was kidding. Her face broke out in an embarrassed smile. "I've met anyone who reads so much. I used to read a lot."
"What made you stop?"
Samantha's forehead crinkled as she stopped to think. "I guess that I just don't have the time anymore."
"You have to make time."
She got up and walked over to the shelf. The only sound I heard was the swish of fabric as she made her way across the room. I followed her.
"In Cold Blood?"
"Capote. He also wrote Breakfast at Tiffanys."
"I remember the movie. Audrey Hepburn." Her slender hand moved across the shelf.
Samantha was naturally graceful. The way she held herself and the way she walked was enough to grab anyones attention. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her.
"Chandler?"
My spine tingled as she dragged a fingernail across the volumes on the shelf. It was like she was raking her nail across my back.
Samantha looked back at me. "I think I read Chandler in high school." She turned her back to me and continued to scan the volumes on the shelf. "Is that why you are the way you are?"
"What do you mean?"
"Hard boiled."
I blinked my eyes. I had been called a lot of things in my life before, but hard boiled was new to my ears.
"Like an egg?"
She turned and let her dark eyes bore into mine just long enough to tell me she was serious. The dress she wore made her look both seductive and dangerous at the same time.
People have called me cold and calculating. Those in the say I am too quick to trust, too quick to take one's word. The greatest compliment I ever received was when someone called me eccentric. I suppose it meant I was both.
Samantha went back to the books.
"You seem to have an affection for the thirties and forties."
I tried to explain. "I think I was born late. Life now is so planned, so thought out. During those days, men lived by instinct, that's how it was supposed to be."
I leaned against my sliding door and watched the rain cascade against the glass. "Relationships were based upon something. People waited for each other to find their fortunes. People had faith."
I sipped at me beer and looked out the window. I watched her in the reflection on the glass. "Either you loved someone or you didn't. You either found the one you were looking for or you didn't. I believe there's only so much to go around."
I was beginning to lecture. I didn't want to sound like my father.
Samantha smiled at me. I think she knew what I was talking about.
The phone rang.
ch6 pg 39-42
FATTY"S was located just off the strip that led into Waikiki. It was a simple drabby building that shared it's parking lot with a muffler shop. No neon signs to welcome you; nothing to even indicate whether or not the place was open for business. If the door was open, they were open. If it was closed, they were closed.
I paid the cabby and ran through the rain for the open door. Despite the outward appearance, Fatty's was furnished nicely. the place was well lighted and clean. The booths were upholstered in brightly colored vinyl and the tables were spotless. There were two big screen T.V.s located where all could see. The light colored carpet looked like it had just been installed for there were no worn spots to be seen. A full sized pool table sat in one corner and electronic dart machines rested in the other. The smell of Chinese food made my stomach rumble. Fatty's was like a second home to me.
Walking into the place was like walking into a carnival. The effect was heightened by the Christmas trimmings hanging from the ceiling and the music blasting out of the old jukebox. Men and women filled the booths, their tables crowded with food and drink. Bursts of laughter erupted from various corners of the room like people cheering for some unseen challenge. The electronic dart machines blared out sing song bleeps every time a bulls eye was hit, which was often. The click and clatter of billiard balls broke the silence between songs. No one looked up when I entered. No one cared.
People from all walks of life came to Fatty's. From the blue collar guy to the business men that pulled up in expensive cars, they came because they loved the place. When you walked in the bar, you left your status at the door.
I scanned the room looking for familiar faces and came up empty. There was a time when I could have called half the people in the place by name. Being here felt too much like I some lost soul who was trying to recapture something in my past.
There was no sign of Willy so I sat down at the bar and ordered a beer. Chin, the bar owner approached and put a napkin down in front of me.
"Long time," Chin said. He wasn't much for words.
"I've been busy." What could I say? I didn't have to give him a reason for my lack of patronage.
"First one on me."
I was surprised he remembered my brand. He put a fresh beer and cup of ice in front of me. The local term for this was a beer and a bucket of ice. Once I had ordered the same thing on the mainland, the bartender game me a beer in a bucket of ice. Leinani and I almost died laughing at that one.
I nursed my drink and looked around the room. The memories that started to come back to me were like an unwanted pet. The harder you tried to get rid of them, the harder it became.
Leinani and I came here often to just hang out. When we had no special place to be, we could found here. You know you are a regular when you start getting phone calls from at the bar from people looking for you.
I looked at all the friends and couples sitting around, laughing and having a good time. Here I was, by myself, just my memories to keep me company.
I shook the self pity out of my head and motioned to Chin. "You see Willy around here?"
He shook his head and walked away.
My attention was drawn to the T.V. behind the bar. The early news was featuring a piece on the Tiger Sharks. I watched the program and poured the rest of my beer into my glass. Chin appeared out of nowhere and replaced the empty bottle with a new one.
"I hope they win. I got some bucks on them."
The guy two seats away was talking to his friend. Between them, there were three plates of food they were trying to eliminate.
"You crazy," the other guy said. His chopsticks were working overtime.
"I telling you, the line going change."
"I ain't worried. They going win. Outright."
I smiled to myself. The guy was confident. Someone put a hand on my shoulder. I almost jumped.
"You getting old brah. Now you letting people sneak up behind you."
Willy.
"I was getting worried. Thought you weren't showing up. Was getting ready to leave."
Willy chuckled and motioned to Chin. "We going in the office."
Chin nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.
I hopped off the bar stool, dropped a five on the counter and followed Willy to the back.
The office was sparsely furnished with a desk, a file cabinet, and a calendar that hung on the wall above some beer boxes in the corner. The room reeked of cigarette smoke and mildew. An ashtray overflowing with half smoked butts sat in front of me. Willy took a seat behind the desk.
"So what's up? What can I do for you?"
"Not even going to ask me how I'm doing?"
"I know what you doing," Willy said.
We smiled at each other. Willy and I went back a long ways, to the days when I worked at the Hilton. Although we hardly say each other, when we did it was like we had seen each other yesterday.
"I need all the information you can get me on a bookie named Greenie and a runner named Chucky."
"What's this all about?" he asked.
I looked him in the eye. He didn't look away.
"Willy, you know when I ask, it means trouble," I said, warning him.
"If you like lay down one bet, you can trust me."
"If I wanted to lay down a bet, I'd call Vegas. When you figure it out call me."
"That ain't much to go on," he said.
"That's all I got."
Willy looked down at the table. He was thinking about all the people he would have to talk to. What I was asking was not a small job.
He smiled at me. "I'll be in touch."
I stood up to leave.
"What about Manny?"
I stopped and looked back. I hadn't even thought of Manny Fernandez.
Manny and I grew up together. On different sides of the fence.
"What about him?" I asked.
Willy shrugged and looked away. Our conversation was over.
Chin called out at me as I passed the bar. "Eh Darling."
"Yeah?" I walked up to where he was leaning on the counter. One of the waitresses wearing a Santa hat stood next to him.
"She only come here on Wednesdays."
I stared at him for a second before nodding my head and walking out the door.
I paid the cabby and ran through the rain for the open door. Despite the outward appearance, Fatty's was furnished nicely. the place was well lighted and clean. The booths were upholstered in brightly colored vinyl and the tables were spotless. There were two big screen T.V.s located where all could see. The light colored carpet looked like it had just been installed for there were no worn spots to be seen. A full sized pool table sat in one corner and electronic dart machines rested in the other. The smell of Chinese food made my stomach rumble. Fatty's was like a second home to me.
Walking into the place was like walking into a carnival. The effect was heightened by the Christmas trimmings hanging from the ceiling and the music blasting out of the old jukebox. Men and women filled the booths, their tables crowded with food and drink. Bursts of laughter erupted from various corners of the room like people cheering for some unseen challenge. The electronic dart machines blared out sing song bleeps every time a bulls eye was hit, which was often. The click and clatter of billiard balls broke the silence between songs. No one looked up when I entered. No one cared.
People from all walks of life came to Fatty's. From the blue collar guy to the business men that pulled up in expensive cars, they came because they loved the place. When you walked in the bar, you left your status at the door.
I scanned the room looking for familiar faces and came up empty. There was a time when I could have called half the people in the place by name. Being here felt too much like I some lost soul who was trying to recapture something in my past.
There was no sign of Willy so I sat down at the bar and ordered a beer. Chin, the bar owner approached and put a napkin down in front of me.
"Long time," Chin said. He wasn't much for words.
"I've been busy." What could I say? I didn't have to give him a reason for my lack of patronage.
"First one on me."
I was surprised he remembered my brand. He put a fresh beer and cup of ice in front of me. The local term for this was a beer and a bucket of ice. Once I had ordered the same thing on the mainland, the bartender game me a beer in a bucket of ice. Leinani and I almost died laughing at that one.
I nursed my drink and looked around the room. The memories that started to come back to me were like an unwanted pet. The harder you tried to get rid of them, the harder it became.
Leinani and I came here often to just hang out. When we had no special place to be, we could found here. You know you are a regular when you start getting phone calls from at the bar from people looking for you.
I looked at all the friends and couples sitting around, laughing and having a good time. Here I was, by myself, just my memories to keep me company.
I shook the self pity out of my head and motioned to Chin. "You see Willy around here?"
He shook his head and walked away.
My attention was drawn to the T.V. behind the bar. The early news was featuring a piece on the Tiger Sharks. I watched the program and poured the rest of my beer into my glass. Chin appeared out of nowhere and replaced the empty bottle with a new one.
"I hope they win. I got some bucks on them."
The guy two seats away was talking to his friend. Between them, there were three plates of food they were trying to eliminate.
"You crazy," the other guy said. His chopsticks were working overtime.
"I telling you, the line going change."
"I ain't worried. They going win. Outright."
I smiled to myself. The guy was confident. Someone put a hand on my shoulder. I almost jumped.
"You getting old brah. Now you letting people sneak up behind you."
Willy.
"I was getting worried. Thought you weren't showing up. Was getting ready to leave."
Willy chuckled and motioned to Chin. "We going in the office."
Chin nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.
I hopped off the bar stool, dropped a five on the counter and followed Willy to the back.
The office was sparsely furnished with a desk, a file cabinet, and a calendar that hung on the wall above some beer boxes in the corner. The room reeked of cigarette smoke and mildew. An ashtray overflowing with half smoked butts sat in front of me. Willy took a seat behind the desk.
"So what's up? What can I do for you?"
"Not even going to ask me how I'm doing?"
"I know what you doing," Willy said.
We smiled at each other. Willy and I went back a long ways, to the days when I worked at the Hilton. Although we hardly say each other, when we did it was like we had seen each other yesterday.
"I need all the information you can get me on a bookie named Greenie and a runner named Chucky."
"What's this all about?" he asked.
I looked him in the eye. He didn't look away.
"Willy, you know when I ask, it means trouble," I said, warning him.
"If you like lay down one bet, you can trust me."
"If I wanted to lay down a bet, I'd call Vegas. When you figure it out call me."
"That ain't much to go on," he said.
"That's all I got."
Willy looked down at the table. He was thinking about all the people he would have to talk to. What I was asking was not a small job.
He smiled at me. "I'll be in touch."
I stood up to leave.
"What about Manny?"
I stopped and looked back. I hadn't even thought of Manny Fernandez.
Manny and I grew up together. On different sides of the fence.
"What about him?" I asked.
Willy shrugged and looked away. Our conversation was over.
Chin called out at me as I passed the bar. "Eh Darling."
"Yeah?" I walked up to where he was leaning on the counter. One of the waitresses wearing a Santa hat stood next to him.
"She only come here on Wednesdays."
I stared at him for a second before nodding my head and walking out the door.
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