Dead Before A Rival Page 4

  Cook Reef was a favorite diving spot and, ordinarily, two or three of the local cruise ships would have been anchored along the five mile reef. Today, only one small boat occupied by two fishermen was in the area. It slowly moved off to the south, and by the time Bart had directed the Jomark to the spot of his choice, suited up and dropped over the side, the fishing boat had headed back toward Napua and was a speck in the distance.

  Sam was the first one to use the viewer, a long tube with a glass bottom which could be partially submerged to give the observer a clear view of the underwater environment. It was tied to the rail by a long line allowing the tube to be moved freely without the danger of losing it.

  “Can you see him?” Joanna asked.

  “He’s clowning, as usual,” Sam said. “He’s rolling over on his back and giving the Hawaiian high sign.”

  Others took their turns at looking through the viewer but soon tired of it and returned to the rear deck. David Rouse was the only one who maintained his enthusiasm for watching the colorful fish flickering back and forth. Even he finally pulled the tube up and joined the others.

  Sid hovered near the rail where Captain Silva was standing. “Isn’t it kind of dangerous to go scuba diving alone?” he asked the captain.

  “It’s damn foolishness,” the captain replied with a shrug, “but Bart’s three times seven.”

  “How long is his tank good for?” Sid asked, looking at his watch which read 2:20.

  “Just about an hour, but forty-five minutes is closer to how long he’ll be down there. The water’s a lot colder down that deep, and you can feel it even when wearing a wet suit. Allowing for coming up slowly to avoid the bends, he should have a few minutes at the bottom, and then he’ll start working his way up.”

  “Have you ever done any diving?”

  “Some. I was never caught up with it the way a lot of people get into it. I always figured I really belonged up here.” The captain waved his pipe to take in the whole horizon of blue water.

  “What about sharks?”

  “That’s overrated. I wouldn’t be about to go over and scratch a big white on the nose, but they generally ignore you when you’re down there. There’s some risk when you’re going down or coming up, but there’s a hell of a lot more danger if you’re out there on a boogie board, even in shallow water. The shark looks up and thinks you’re a seal. If you’re lucky, he gets the board instead. I saw one that had been cut in half in an attack. The surfer was cut in half too, but I didn’t see him.”

  Sid thought diving was even less appetizing after talking to Captain Silva than it had seemed when he had had Bart describe it.

  It was Joanna who first begin to show signs of nervousness. No one took much notice as she put aside her novel and went to the side of the boat where Bart had gone in. Taking the tube and dipping the glass end in the water she began to scan the ocean floor.

  Kay was standing beside Joanna when the latter turned to her and said in a hoarse broken whisper, “He’s on the bottom, just floating, his regulator is out of his mouth. I know he’s dead.”

  ***

  Later, when Sid described the events of the next few moments to the police, he surprised himself with the clarity of his memories.

  Everyone except Dolph, who was in the galley cleaning up, and the captain who was in the wheel house, had rushed to the side of the boat. The captain leaned out and shouted.

  “Get your gear on, Kerwin.”

  Within a few minutes, which at the time had seemed far longer, Kerwin had run down to his sleeping quarters and returned with an air bottle and halter. Slipping them on, he dropped over the side. David, who had taken over the viewer from the shaken Joanna almost immediately announced, “He’s got him. I’m going over to help.”

  Sid joined him in the water. Only a mediocre swimmer himself, he felt he could provide some buoyancy to help Kerwin if nothing else. What surprised him was how well David handled himself in the water. Diving down several feet, he met Kerwin on his way up with Bart’s inert form and helped him to guide it to the surface beside the yacht. Sid’s help was little needed. Several hands reached down to assist them, and Bart was pulled on to the deck.

  David provided the first round of mouth to mouth resuscitation. Kerwin loosened Bart’s wet suit and then took over. For the first time the powerful engines sent vibrations through the boat as the prow lifted high above the water and pointed toward Napua.

  When it was Sid’s turn, he could feel the taste of death. Bart’s mouth was slack. Unless he held the body’s nostril’s firmly, he could feel his own breath coming out of them.

  The ambulance was waiting at the dock. The two husky medics piled aboard with a mask and an oxygen bottle, and Sid caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Hank DeMello who had just arrived in the police car flashing its blue light. A second patrol car was close behind.

  Sid surveyed the tableau on the boat as the medics carried the still body down the gang plank and to the ambulance. Joanna looked much older than she had when she had come aboard. Sam, standing next to her, was silent, her eyes surveying the crowd of curiosity seekers now clustered around the rear doors of the emergency vehicle. David was standing on Joanna’s other side with one hand on her arm. His face was expressionless.

  Jeff and Fe were back away from the rail, leaning against the pilot house, and were in deep conversation. Kerwin was coming back up from the dock where he had tied the Jomark, and the captain was emerging from the cabin. At first, Sid thought the only one missing was Dolph, then he remembered Marshal. The latter was not among the passengers clustered on the dock side of the boat.

  Sid turned to speak to Kay and realized she was deep in thought. Her brow was furrowed, and for a moment Sid had a glimpse into her mind with the same ease Kay so often exhibited in reading his.

  “Forget it Kay,” he said. “This was an accident, pure and simple.”

  Chapter 6

  Hank DeMello was a close friend of Sid’s and Kay’s. A dark haired, tall and attractive Portuguese, Lieutenant DeMello was now graying slightly and developing a girth he denied. Sid respected Hank’s scrupulous honesty and calm efficiency. Kay was more critical, pointing to Hank’s lack of imagination and his annoying inability to avoid engaging in sexual banter with every attractive woman he encountered. Yet, despite the weaknesses she saw in Hank, she had grown to like the big, bluff policeman.

  For his part, Hank was unabashedly admiring of the two young lawyers. As he told Toni, his wife, “Sid and Kay are attorneys’ attorneys. If I ever get caught knocking over a bank, I’ll hire them for sure.”

  Toni had laughed at his declaration. Kissing him on the forehead, she had said, “Somehow, Hank, I just can’t quite see you knocking over a bank.”

  Sid, Kay and Hank were now sitting in the latter’s office, the projection room of the old movie house which had shown its last film, and which shortly afterwards had ended up as the transition station for the Napua PD. As Hank had pointed out, the county council was exhibiting few signs of looking for the funds needed to make the ancient theater merely a temporary home for the police. Knowing that, he had searched for and found a couch and some battered old leather chairs in Napua’s one second-hand store, to make what was becoming a permanent stay a comfortable one for himself and any visitors. As the three settled down, Sergeant Corky Medeiros joined them.

  Corky was also Portuguese, the nationality predominantly represented in the Napua PD. Sid, who had never been especially attracted to the dark-haired slender sergeant, was still suffering from overexposure to the scantily clad Fe, and wondered idly what Corky would look like in an equivalent costume or lack of one. Corky had much smaller breasts, and was generally more boyish in appearance, but she had nice legs and an animated, pretty face with dark, dark eyes, and curly black eyelashes. Her greatest asset, however, was her exuberance. Corky sparkled with energy. Sid underrated the intelligence behind all the extroversion. Kay did not.

  Corky announced as she entered, “The police
diver I took down to the dock says he can’t find a thing wrong with the gear. There was about ten or fifteen minutes of air used. The valve was open and there were no obstructions.”

  “Pathologist seen the body yet?”

  “Yeah. Victorine was waiting for it. Prelim is it’s a straight out case of drowning. Victorine’s backed up with a tourist whose bike slid under a Budweiser truck, but he thinks he’ll be able to get to Bert—was that his name?—first thing in the morning.”

  “His name was Bart, Bart Cain.” Kay supplied the information.

  “He must have been quite a hunk,” Corky commented.

  “He sure was,” Sid said. “Kay’s eye’s almost popped out of her head when she met him.”

  Kay laughed. “That’s not my type. He kept bouncing around like a lop-sided rubber ball. I like comfortable varieties, like Sid.”

  “He was more your type, Corky,” Sid interjected. “The two of you together would have really kept this town hopping.”

  Kay’s face became somber. “It’s hard to believe he’s dead. How could something so alive be suddenly so still and quiet.” She shook her head at the sobering thought.

  “Which reminds me,” said Hank, reaching for a note pad on his desk, “we might as well get all the information on what happened out of the way right now.” He handed the pad to Corky.

  She grimaced and accepted it, saying, “What did you do before you got me as your secretary, Hank?”

  “Don’t knock it,” he replied with a laugh. “Why do you think I talked Chief Yamada into promoting you to detective sergeant in the first place? I was tired of writing notes and filling out forms, and I needed a willing, woman assistant.”

  Corky gave an unfeminine grunt as Hank turned to Sid and Kay. “I didn’t get much out of the rest of the crowd, mainly their names and addresses, most of which I knew already. I’ll hit them up for more information as soon as Clyde gets back to me with the final pm. Was Bart as far out of it as Marshal Dalquist when he went in the water?”

  “Uh-uh,” Sid said. “Whatever else may have gone wrong, Bart was sober. I can’t remember him drinking at all, can you Kay? You probably watched him a lot more closely than I did.”

  Kay ignored the sally. “He did have a beer, early on. I’m quite sure he didn’t drink any other alcohol, not even wine with the meal. I don’t think he ate much, either. He spent most of his time elbowing his way past Sid and the other males to drool over Elima’s entry into the Miss Hawaii contest.”

  Corky hooted. “She was still wearing those shoelaces when I showed up at the boat. I’d be willing to bet lust was the order of the day for the men. I saw you in your scanty getup, too, Kay. I wish I’d been along on that cruise to watch the effect.”

  “OK! OK!” said Hank. “Enough of this small talk. What time did he dive in?

  “About ten-past-two,” Sid said.

  “Shortly after two,” Kay said almost simultaneously.

  “Close enough,” Hank said, nodding to Corky to note the times. “So if the police diver is right, then he probably was dead by two-thirty. I doubt Victorine can come any closer than that. We got the first radio message at…“ he checked his notes, “2:42. Captain says he called in as soon as he realized there was something wrong. Any chance Cain was out to commit suicide.”

  Both Kay and Sid shook their heads vigorously. “He wasn’t smart enough to be depressed about anything,” Sid said. “He was probably just playing around and lost his mouthpiece, panicked and gulped in water. According to Captain Silva, that would do it.”

  Kay added, “I can’t think of anyone less likely to be suicide prone. He was riding high. I’d guess he had his pick of women. Joanna sure seemed to have been smitten with him, so I don’t imagine he was having any money problems, either.”

  Hank nodded. “Mrs. Forbes’s not exactly a bad looking gal, even if she is kinda long of tooth.”

  “What’s wrong with her teeth?” Corky inquired. Sid and Kay had both wondered at the expression but had left it to the sergeant to ask.

  “I can see you haven’t been running around with any paniolos, Corky,” Hank said. “That’s what they say about old horses. Didn’t you know a horse’s teeth get longer as it gets older?”

  “No,” Corky said, shaking her head, “and I’m not sure that bit of lore is particularly useful.”

  Hank laughed. “Well it might be. If you ever pick up with a cowboy, it will give you something to talk about.”

  “Thanks. I prefer my electrician. We talk about AC and DC. It beats horses’ teeth anytime.”

  ***

  Qual and Craig were waiting for them. Even Leilani had stayed at the office, having called ahead to John Pak to hold up on the rice.

  “How can news travel so fast?” Sid asked.

  Craig and Qual both nodded in Leilani’s direction. “Guess who’s related to Kerwin Kaawaloa,” Craig said.

  “I should have known,” Sid said to Leilani. “He’s the son of one of your cousins, right?”

  Leilani grinned. “Actually, his sister is married to my brother’s ex-wife’s younger brother.”

  “Phew,” said Sid. “Don’t bother to explain it.”

  “That’s what’s wrong with English,” Qual contributed. “Hawaiian probably has a single, two-syllable word to describe the relationship. Fill us in, Sid. That’s what we’ve been waiting for.”

  Laura was coming in from a court hearing just then. “I don’t know what we’re waiting for, but I’ll bet I’m related to whoever it was Leilani’s related to.”

  “What surprises me,” Craig said, “is why people on this island don’t all look exactly alike.”

  Sid gave the outline of the day’s events, and Kay filled in the outline.

  “What about Marshal Dalquist?” Qual asked

  “Hell! I forgot about him. There’s no point in our taking the case. I’ve heard about the Kishimotos. They’ll give him his money’s worth and then some. I don’t know anything about the trial attorney, but since the Kishimotos picked him out, I imagine he’s plenty competent.”

  “I don’t think we should just dismiss it out of hand, Sid,” Kay said. “Let’s get a copy of the trial transcript and the appeal and then decide. Marshal says to charge it all up to him.”

  “What’s going on?” Sid asked. “You were even less interested in the case than I was when I talked to you on the boat after you’d finished your tête-à-tête with Marshal.”

  “Yes,” said Kay, “but that was before Bart died.”

  Craig shook his head. “I don’t see the connection.”

  “I do,” Sid said quietly, the tone of resignation clearly evident in his voice.

  Chapter 7

  Sid had argued about the decision while they had been at the office, but had said nothing about it when they went off to the Civic Center to play tennis. The two of them made it a point to go by at least twice a week. Evenly matched, both of them enjoyed the sport and the opportunity to forget the problems of the office in the midst of a strenuous workout. Today, there was even more to forget about.

  Sid continued to keep his own counsel during the drive home. It was only as they were unloading the groceries and fending off their happy cats who were giving enthusiastic and individualized greetings to the provisioners, that Sid could no longer contain himself.

  “You’re making something out of nothing,” he said. “There’s not a hint of anything suspicious about Bart’s death. He just did a damn fool thing by going diving alone. Like Captain Silva said, his mouthpiece slipped out of his mouth, he panicked and gulped in water. That’s all it would have taken? Should I give Bluebeard some of this tuna? He upchucked the last I gave him.”

  Bluebeard was the strange looking, blue-white offspring of the other two cats. Half grown, he was the most animated and impatient. John Samuel, the cross-eyed, part-Siamese neutered tom, who had sired the wild-acting kitten prior to his own operation, tolerated his antics. Sheena, Bluebeard’s tortoise-shell mother, still eyed
the young cat suspiciously, suspecting him of wanting to nurse long after he had been brutally weaned.

  “Give them all some of the chicken mix for a change. Tomorrow I’ll drop by the vets for some worming medicine. I still can’t buy the notion someone as young and healthy as Bart could have just panicked.”

  “Why not? He really wasn’t particularly bright. Sheena doesn’t like chicken. I’ll give her some of leftover ahi.”

  “Bright or not, he was an experienced diver. Kerwin said Bart had been diving for years. Feed them quick before Bluebeard has a heart attack.”

  “That’s probably what happened to Bart, a heart attack. What’s planned for supper?”

  The other two cats begin to show interest in Sheena’s fish and a marked lack of enthusiasm for their own canned cat food. Sid capitulated and apportioned out some more of the ahi.

  “How can you think of eating after all you put away at noon? I’ll give you even odds his heart was as healthy as the rest of him.”

  “Well, maybe just a small Caesar-salad. OK. What’s your theory?”

  “Fine with me. Break out the lettuce. I don’t have one, but I’m suspicious.”

  Sid opened the refrigerator door, relieved to see the surfeited cats were no longer triggered off by the conditioned stimulus.

  “Will romaine do? It’ll have to, since that’s all we have. I don’t see how you can be suspicious. There wasn’t anyone down there with him. Besides, what good is it going to do to take over Marshal’s appeal?” Sid knew what the answer would be, but could not help asking the question anyway. “That’s really not going to give you any excuse to question the rest of the family the way you and Qual think it will, or will it?” As it turned out, the answer he got had a surprise in it.

  “Yes it will. Didn’t you know? Joanna, Sam, Marshal, Bart and David were all on the Jomark when it went to Honolulu. Marshal claims he had just one drink, on board ship before he drove into town. That leaves a lot of people wide open to questioning. Even Dolph was along. Romaine’s just what we need.”