Criminal Mischief

24

They finished dinner with Key lime pie. “I’ve had enough Hawaiian music for one evening,” Stone said. “Let’s have a nightcap at the bar.”

“Where’s the bar?” Dino asked.

“Across the room, a few steps up. Our path will take us right past Frances’s table.”

“Lead the way,” Dino said.

Stone signed the check and got up just as the band started again, so they had to maneuver through a crowd of dancing tourists.

As the approached Frances’s table, Stone took another treat from his pocket. And when they passed, Felix was right at his knee, sitting and pounding his tail on the floor.

“Oops, he caught me,” Stone said to Frances. “We’ve had it with the music.”

“Oh, Marty, this is Jack and his cousin, Fred.”

Marty stood up and offered his hand. “How do you do?”

“Very well, thank you.”

“Jack is a new old friend of Felix’s. That is, he has a pocketful of treats.”

“I’ve got one just like Felix at home,” Stone said. “We’ve had it with the music, so we’re having a nightcap in the bar. Will you join us?”

“We’re still on coffee,” Marty said. “Perhaps in a few minutes.”

“Don’t get lost.”

“Don’t worry, Felix will deliver us to you,” Marty said.

Stone and Dino continued toward the bar, waving at Faith and the crew halfway across the room.

They took a table and ordered Grand Marnier.

“You’re right,” Stone said. “Marty doesn’t seem like Viktor. Maybe he changed his appearance.”

Five minutes later, Marty and Frances appeared, led by Felix, who sat in front of Stone. Stone gave him a treat and scratched his ears. He also got a glimpse of a tag attached to Felix’s collar.

“This is quite a hotel,” Marty said. “I’d like to have seen it before the war.”

“Before my time,” Stone said.

“Mine, too, but I’ve seen it in movies. It looks like they must have been having a hell of a good time on the night of Saturday, December 6, 1941.”

“Ah, yes,” Stone said. “It makes me sad.”

“Sad that they were having a good time?”

“Sad that it was the last good time for a lot of them.”

“Well, yes, that is sad,” Marty replied. “My grandfather was here in Honolulu on the seventh.”

“I hope he made it through.”

“He made it through until Okinawa, when a kamikaze hit his ship. The ship survived, he didn’t.”

“My condolences.”

“If he’d lived just a couple of months more, I might have gotten to know him,” Marty said.

“I guess Okinawa was the last battle of the war,” Stone said. “I mean, it was over in May in Europe.”

“Yes, the last battle. His last battle.”

Stone thought he saw a tear in the corner of the man’s eye.

They finished their drinks and said good night. Marty and Frances, at Marty’s insistence, stayed behind to pay the bill.

The lights were turned low in their suite when they got back.

“For the honeymooners,” Dino said, opening a door to the deck. “Oh, good, the wind has dropped.” He stepped outside.

Stone followed him. “Nice moon,” he said.

“I’d call Viv,” Dino said, “but I’ve no idea what time it is where she is.”

“Where is she?”

“Somewhere in South Asia; I have trouble keeping up, and I left her schedule in New York.”

“What did you think of Marty?” Stone asked.

“I liked him. I thought I saw a tear in his eye when he was talking about his grandfather.”

“So did I. Do you think Viktor Zanian would ever shed a tear?”

“Nay,” Dino replied. “Not about anything.”

“Oh, by the way, Felix gave me his phone number.”

“I guess the two of you are on intimate terms by now.”

“It was on his ID tag, attached to his collar. It’s a Connecticut number, 203 area code.”

“Well, Frances said she was from Hartford.”

“That’s right.” Stone took out his notebook and jotted down the number. “In case I want to get in touch,” he said.

Stone was awakened by a small noise in the middle of the night. He looked at the bedside clock... 3:18 am. He sat up in bed. His gun was in the hotel safe in his closet. He heard the noise again, a click, like the door to the suite closing.

Then there was a man in the room, and Stone leapt out of bed and ran for the closet.

“Stone!”

Stone stopped running. “Dino?”

“Who’d you expect?”

“I heard a noise, and my gun is in the hotel safe.”

“The noise you heard was the door closing. Somebody was in here.”

Stone went to the safe and extracted the .380 pistol. “Okay, lead the way,” he said in a low voice.

“What for? They’re gone.” Dino turned on a living room lamp. “Where’s your passport?”

“In the safe,” Stone said.

“Your wallet?”

“Everything’s in the safe. Yours?”

“Mine is in my bedside drawer. I don’t think anybody could have gotten to it without waking me.”

“You’re thinking Zanian?”

“Who else would care who we are? My wallet is untouched, and your money is in the safe.”

“Right,” Stone said. “The door to the terrace is still open.”

“I heard a door close, so it must have been the front door.”

“Must have been,” Stone agreed. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Me, too,” Dino said. “Good night.”

“Good morning,” Stone said, leaving the pistol on the bedside table and pulling up the covers.