The Yoshinobu Mysteries: Volume 2 Read online

  Qual nodded, taking off his bifocals. “Thats a good idea. Lets check Kens story every way we can.” Squinting down at the business card Ken had handed him, Qual added, “Ill call Computech Systems and see whats going on there. Its pretty clear Lauras going to want to defend him no matter what, so wed better do as much of the checking as possible ourselves.”

  “How do you think Lauras taking it?” Sid asked. “Its one of those crazy things, but I know just how she feels. If Ken does become a suspect, shell be all the more protective, all the more eager to prove he didnt do it.”

  “Its a strange mix, at the moment,” Sid said. “Ken had opportunity and motive, but the worst thing against him is hes probably the only person on Elima who knew Clayton. Hank told Kay when she called how nothing was missing from the room, and Claytons wallet was full of bills, so burglary is out. At this point, it looks as though Clayton knew the person who killed him.”

  “Yes. Thats probably the worst part, all right. This is no drawing room murder with a dozen people present who hated the victim.”

  After a pause, it was Sid who said, “I wonder if Laura has thought all of this through.”

  ***

  Kay and Laura had decided to drive to the station, and they were still questioning Ken after theyd finished the short ride.

  “Why did you ever set up such a contractual agreement in the first place where three

  partners could force a buy-out on the fourth one?” Kay asked.

  “It was Sauls idea. His argument was how someone could go psycho, develop a

  brain tumor or something, and wed have no way to move him out. I didnt think too

  much of the idea, but Pat and Clayton liked it, so I went along. Besides, at the time, I

  couldnt see anything really wrong with it. I do now.”

  “It actually involves a fascinating kind of game theory,” Kay said. “If you held out

  and were sure one other person would hold out, you stood to make a lot of money. If you

  joined Clayton in his buyout scheme, and one of the other partners did too, you stood to

  make a lot more money. The only way to lose was to hold out and have the other two

  besides Clayton turn against you. If you held out and the other three cooperated with each

  other, you would really lose big.”

  “Exactly,” Ken said. “It bothered me no end and explains why I spent so much of

  Sunday trying to contact Pat and Saul to find out what they were going to do.” “Do you think either of them would have sold you out?”

  “I debated the question. I dont like Saul, so I have to watch myself when I try to

  decide what he might have done. The more I thought about it on Sunday, the more

  convinced I became he really wouldnt do any such thing. On the other hand, I like Pat,

  so I was absolutely convinced he would never join against me. Then I got to thinking

  about his wife. Pat is totally devoted to Andrea, and every day hes watching her die. I

  could see Clayton convincing Pat, who has even less business sense than I do, how a

  fourth of the proceeds from the business wouldnt pay for Andreas treatment but a third

  would.”

  Ken shrugged. “So all the rummaging around in my head kind of goaded me into

  thinking Pat might go along with Claytons scheme. I even thought about what Pat would

  do if a gunman was holding a gun to my head and one to Andreas while asking Pat to

  decide who should go. Thats how wild my thinking was getting. Once Id convinced

  myself Pat might be persuaded by Clayton, then I begin to think how, between him and

  Clayton, theyd be able to convince Saul.”

  “Were you convinced there was a lot of money at stake?” Kay asked. “I know this wont make much sense to you, but the money wasnt what I was angry

  about. I felt there would be more than enough to go around for all four us, but I didnt

  care if there werent. But, for almost five years now, Ive been totally involved in this

  thing. I have a broken marriage to show for it too. Whatever else, I didnt want to

  suddenly find myself out in the cold, removed from everything Id worked at and for.

  Thats when I thought back to what Clayton said when I left, and the way he looked. He

  seemed so smug, so damn sure of himself.”

  Pausing at the station steps, Kay turned to Ken and chose her next words carefully.

  “Do you think you were capable of killing him at that moment?”

  Laura scanned Kens face as though looking for microscopic traces of his minds

  inner workings.

  The pause stretched out to almost a minute. Finally, Ken sighed and said, “Yes. I

  really do think I was capable of killing him at that moment.”

  *** The last words Laura said to Ken before they stepped into Hanks office were, “Lieutenant DeMello is tough, but hes straight arrow. As head of homicide, he figures his job is to find killers, but hes not going to railroad anyone.”

  Ken reached over and put his hand on Lauras arm. “ Thanks, Laura.” Laura tried to analyze the feelings she suddenly had at his touch, but quickly decided they were too confused for analysis.

  Hank got up, as the three came in, and reached across his desk to shake hands with Ken. “I understand you have a statement to make about the Heinicke murder.”

  Ken nodded.

  Hank indicated Corky with his head. She was sitting off to the side of the room with her note pad and had smiled a greeting to Kay and Laura. “This is Sergeant Medeiros…I mean Sergeant Honda. Shell be taking notes. Well type up what you have to say, and youll have a chance to reread it before signing it.” He turned to Kay and Laura. “OK with you folks?” They both nodded.

  “Lets get the big question out of the way first,” Hank began, watching Ken closely. “Did you kill Clayton Heinicke?”

  “No. I didnt.”

  “Laura told me that you saw him that day. Lets start with that.”

  Ken was nervous, but seemed to relax as he repeated the story he had told at the law office. Laura kept her note pad handy, and checked to see how his current story compared with what he had told them earlier. She was surprised at its almost letter perfect quality, something she had never seen in a witness before. Then his description of his occupation, the nature of Computech Systems and its partnership arrangement was another exact replica of what he had told them at the office.

  Hank worked him through the story a second time, and again Laura could detect no changes. She glanced over at Corky and caught her eye. It was obvious something about what Ken said had struck the Sergeant. Laura wondered if was the same thing which had struck her.

  *** Hank was leaning back in his office chair when Corky returned after walking out to the station entrance with the visitors.

  “I suppose youre convinced he did it,” Corky said.

  “Uhuh. Im keeping an open mind. No need to jump to any conclusions. Got any better suspects lying around someplace?”

  Corky shook her head.

  Hank seemed to be thinking aloud. “It does seem to me wed be justified in charging him.”

  “So why dont you?”

  “Shit! You know why as well as I do. Our milquetoast prosecuting attorney would never go along with the kind of evidence we have. Hell just say there were fifteen hundred other people in the hotel at the same time who could have done it.”

  “Hed have a point, too, Hank.”

  “Sure, but who else has a motive?”

  “How about anyone interested in robbery? The defense attorney will be able to argue it was a robbery but the robber panicked after killing him, and thats why nothing was missing.”

  Hank dismissed the possibility of robbery out of hand. “Actually, the biggest problem is the gun. For sure Emil will be after me to produce the murder weapon, but theres the whole damn Pacific out there for Cole to ha
ve thrown the gun into. How did Kay and Laura fall heir to this joker in the first place?”

  Corky grinned. “This youll never believe. He answered a personal ad Laura put into a national magazine. I think shes got it kind of bad for him already.”

  Hank grunted. “Crazy damn thing to do.”

  “Why so?”

  “Look what she got. A murderer.”

  *** Sid had found it to be virtually a rule that, if he looked for a waiter or waitress to ask about something which had happened the same time of day, a day or two before, it would be the persons day off, or they would be sick, or the shifts would have changed. Today, he lucked out. The whole crew of The Palm Court was exactly the same as it had been two nights before at the time Heinicke was last seen alive, and here Sid was even two hours early. This is my day, he decided, as he found the lounge almost deserted and the waiter who had served the drinks to Clayton and Ken not only willing to talk, but actually eager to do so.

  “Sure, I remember the guy who got killed. Hes been the talk of the shift. Do you think the other guy was the one who plugged him? They were sure pissed at each other. How comethe cops havent been around? Jeezus, but the hotel manager about had a bowel explosion when he heard about it. Imagine! Old Hook Nose comes around to tell us to keep quiet about it, and here the barflies know a hell of a lot more about what happened thanwe do. I cant see where its going to hurt business. If anything, business is going to pick up because of it. Its been like a morgue around here anyway. Hey! Did you get that? A morgue!”

  Ignoring the last remarks, Sid asked, “Can you tell me anything about them when you waited on them? The time? How they acted? Is there anything at all you remember?”

  “Sure thing. Like I say, things have been pretty quiet around here lately. There were only about a half-dozen customers on the floor, and a couple at the bar. I was covering the tables alone, but I wasnt being crowded. They came in together about six o'clock or sometime right after that. I cant remember what they ordered, except it was mixed drinks. Yeah, now I remember. The blond guy ordered a Manhattan. I remember, because when they left, I saw he hadnt even touched his. He didnt even bother to squeeze the lemon. I thought at the time I could go ahead and serve the drink to someone else and no one would have been the wiser. Im not sure what the dark haired guy ordered.”

  “How about his drink? Did he finish it?”

  “Yup. He drank it down.”

  “Who paid for the drinks?”

  The waiters forehead wrinkled in his effort to remember. “Im not sure. The bill was in the middle of the table when I came back with the drinks.”

  “Did the dark haired guy order another?”

  “Uh-uh. They were too busy arguing for either of them to do much drinking.”

  “Can you describe the argument?”

  “I didnt hear none of it, if thats what you mean.”

  “How was it? Bad? How long did it go on?”

  “It was bad for here. At the Prince Kuhio Tavern it would have been just background noise. Here, everyone looks up if someone sneezes. They were here maybe twenty or twenty-five minutes before it started. I figured Old Hook Nose would be coming by and prodding me if I didnt put a stop to it. So I went up and asked them to keep it down. The blond guy apologized. The other guy was red in the face and didnt say beans. They bugged off right after that, without leaving a tip. I didnt expect none after having to horn in the way I did.”

  “Do you have any idea what time they left?”

  The waiter thought for a moment, then said, “It was no later than seven, thats for sure, because thats when I take my break. Id guess about six-forty-five or so. It could have been a few minutes earlier. They couldnt have been here much more than half-anhour.”

  Sid was on the way out through the hotel lobby when he ran into Corky. “Ah-hah,” she said. “I see youve been out suborning witnesses.”

  “Theres not much suborning to do. The waiter just repeated what Ken told us at the office. So far Kens telling the truth, as far as I can make out, and for whatever thats worth.”

  Chapter 9

  Corky had always considered the Malalani to be a weird growth sprouting up on the west coast of Elima. The shops with their outrageously overpriced goods, the polished marble, the Mayan sculpture and African bronzes, the waterfalls, pools, and all the other luxurious trappings of the destination resort hotel were such a sharp contrast to the old whaling town of Napua they made Corky feel she was stepping into another world when she came here.

  The hotel itself had turned out to be a mixed blessing for the residents of Elima. New jobs were created by the sprawling resort center, and the influx of additional tourists had spawned new small businesses serving the visitor industry.

  On the down side, road development lagged dangerously far behind the increasing traffic. Schools were now overcrowded. The Malalani and its golf courses, with their ravenous thirst, were forcing the county into an expensive search for new ground water sources. The one landfill, serving the west side of Elima as a dump, was now an oozing, smelly, running sore.

  From the viewpoint of the police, the worst problem was the crime rate. It had spiraled upwards, following the opening of the hotel and the sudden in-migration of new job seekers to fill labor needs now exceeding the local labor supply. All this was occurring with the county administration making no moves toward increasing the force. The police map with the colored pins indicating various crimes and their location on the island had a solid block of tacks completely covering the hotels location. Pilferage, car break-ins, vandalism and similar crimes occurred with alarming frequency on the grounds of the Malalani, but homicide was still sufficiently rare so this incident had produced a considerable stir among the hotels workers.

  After having spoken to the waiter, Corky broke out the list of employees she planned to interview. The chambermaid who found him is out, Corky decided, Ill have to catch her when she comes on in the morning. Room service is about all thats left, and maybe the head of security if hes still around.

  Room service was a young, nice-looking, native Hawaiian. Great set of teeth, Corky thought, when he flashed her an appreciative smile. Even the silly hotel uniform looks good on him.

  “ Fill me in from the time you got the call from 333 for room service,” she said, leaning on the counter with her pen poised over her note pad.

  “I dont get the calls. They go to the main desk.” He nodded toward the other end of the long counter. “They take the message and relay it on. Since it was an order for a drink, they called the bar to get it ready. Ordinarily theyd catch me at the information desk out at the front of the lobby. But this time I was talking to the operator when she got the call, so I went right to the bar, and the drink was ready when I got there.”

  “What time was it when he called?”

  “It must have been close to seven, maybe ten of. The operator would have the exact time. She has to enter the order in the computer to add to the room charges. Shell be able to give you a readout with the time on it.”

  Corky added a note to pick up a readout, and asked, “Any idea how long it took you to deliver the drink from the time he called?”

  “Ive timed myself in the past. The faster you deliver, the bigger the tip,” he explained, flashing his nice set of teeth again. “Third floor is just under three minutes unless its at the end of the wing. 333 is two doors from the elevator, and the drink was ready when I got to the bar. So from the time the call came through, Id be willing to bet he had the drink in his hand in a lot less than five minutes.”

  “Did you go into the room?”

  “Uh-uh. 333 came to the door and he reached out and picked up the glass. I usually leave the tray, but he waved me away with it.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “Nothing I remember. Maybe he said „thanks. He gave me a good tip, though.”

  “Any impressions about his mood?”

  “He seemed pretty happy, but maybe my impression came from the size of the t
ip.”

  “Did you see anyone else in the room?”

  “Nope.” He shook his head for emphasis. “I didnt look, either. What goes on in a guests room is strictly his business. Believe me, it was drummed into me the first day on the job.”

  “I guess thats it,” Corky said, closing up her note pad. “Thanks for your help. Is Captain Pascual around.”

  “Yeah. I saw him a few minutes ago. Hes probably down in his den.” Corky shook his hand and started across the lobby, knowing her departing figure was being observed and appreciated. Briefly, but only briefly, she felt a whiff of nostalgia for her life before marriage.

  Captain Emmanuel Pascual was indeed in his den, and looked like a large, graying bear. The title of captain was left over from his former position as head of the Wanakai PD on the east coast of Elima. Shortly after retirement, his wife bridled at having a bear under foot, twenty-four hours a day, and had sent Captain Pascual out looking for a job. The manager of the Malalani had been happy to put someone with his background in charge of their security forces.

  Corky had a casual acquaintance with the captain, and a remote kinship to him. They chatted briefly about the state of crime on the island in general and at the Malalani in particular before moving on to the murder in 333.

  Without being asked, the captain went back over the crime, evidently deriving satisfaction from having something more serious to deal with than a camera missing from a tourists room. “I got a call from the desk, just before six,” the Captain said. “I roared up to the third floor and saw a couple of rubberneckers standing outside of 333. The door was wide open, and the body was stretched out the way you and Hank found it. Like I told Hank, I didnt touch anything–naturally. There wasnt any need to see whether or not he was alive. I havent seen a hole as big in anyone since Korea.”

  Corky nodded her agreement.

  “Remy Amaral is the one who found him.” The Captain gave a short laugh. “I found her in the linen room. She was a lot whiter than the sheets in there. Ive known her for years. I told her shed turned into a haole. I do have to give her credit, though. She didnt go screaming and running down the hall. She just went to her phone and called the desk. I only wish shed closed the door after she found the body. Half the floor was out front of the room gawking by the time I could close it.”