Primal Instinct

20

July 19, Honolulu

Dawn this side of the great island of Oahu was different from dawn in other places around the globe, and this was especially true in Honolulu. Here dawn meant a sensual softening and gradual lightening in the eastern sky while La-the sun itself-remained in hiding, invisible during this long twilight period since it rose from the windward side of the four-thousand-foot pinnacle of the Koolau Mountains, a natural border which rimmed the city on the east, and into which most people now believed Lopaka “Robert” Kowona had escaped.

It was to this sunless gray dawn light, seeping in and wending its way into his bed, that Parry awoke. He was helped along from his slumber by the shrill cry of his telephone, which he desperately wanted to ignore. And he did so until he could stand it no more. “Parry!” he barked. “This better be good!”

“ It's me, Gag.”

'Tony? What's up?”

“ We're in position and near ready with the search teams at the location where we think Lopaka Kowona might've gone in. Chief. Thought you'd want to be alerted.”

“ Where've you set up?”

Tony described the location of the command post.

“ Yeah, I know 'bout where that is.”

“ We've been under way since before daybreak. Come join us. Should be fun.” Tony's tone and emphasis on the word fun dripped with sarcasm.

“ Dr. Coran been alerted, Tony?”

He hesitated. “I can call her after we hang up.”

“ Do that. Keep her fully apprised; you got that, Tony? Tony?”

“ If you say so, Chief.”

“ I say so. Don't forget, we asked her in on this case, pal, and without her we'd still be blowing smoke.”

“ All right, all right. She's just…”

“ Just what, Tony? Out with it.”

Tony hesitated before saying, “Distracting.”

“ Distracting? Why, Tony, I didn't notice you noticed.”

He grunted and said, “I noticed you two together are distracting for one another. Chief.”

“ Good! I'm glad your eyesight's not fully gone, buddy. Now mind your own goddamned business, okay? Just do your job, okay?”

Parry grimaced into the phone, angry with himself for losing it, half understanding Tony's concern. But the big Italiano angered him, too. Tony could be so damned stubborn, he thought. “Just concentrate for the time being on the manhunt, okay, Gag?”

“ Every man and dog knows what he's looking for,” Gagliano continued, wanting to add, Do you? but thinking better of it.

“ So, what's the problem, Tony?”

“ No problem… not really, sir.”

The use of “sir” was a sure sign there was a problem. “Damnit, Tony, I got no time, and I'm in no mood for twenty fucking questions.”

“ Hey, I just thought you'd like to know about the word on Bethel at Hotel, and on River Street.”

Parry knew each comer gathering place with its tavem row, a hot bed of street information representing the entire rainbow from truth to gossip to pure fabrication, a gauntlet for the detective to run. What Joe Citizen thought and what he knew often broke a case wide open. River Street ran through the slum areas just northwest of downtown Honolulu.

“ I'm hearing the same story all over, Chief, down in Chinatown, too, and I get the same word from the wharf rats.”

“ Really?” Parry was instantly curious. The wharf rats were Hawaiians and half-Hawaiians who worked as stevedores and mechanics and hands along the wharves. They routinely hung about Aala Park when relaxing with a beer and a smoke. Their talk was never guarded or encumbered by fears that anyone might care enough about what they said to pay any attention. It was a far cry from the mentality of the Oahu Country Club set.

“ What's the word around, Tony?” he asked, wondering if it might jibe with the information he had himself picked up on Kukui Street where local sailors and “homeboys” hung out, frequently settling differences of opinion loudly and violently. But the word he'd been hearing on the street had been directly countered by Joe Kaniola the evening before.

“ Spill it, Tony. What're you hearing?”

“ That Lopaka got a boat out.”

“ Really? Out of where?”

“ Other side of the island, Mokapu Point, Kaneohe Bay.”

It was one of the old ports, used by innumerable small fishing vessels, by many native fishermen who skirted the law in Hawaii with both abandon and finesse. “You think there's any truth to it?”

“ If there is… a search of the mountainside's a really stupid idea. And you know the kanakas. They'd go to the mainland and back if they thought they could make a haole-especially one in a position of authority-look stupid, Boss.”

“ So people've told you he got a boat out of Kaneohe Bay and so-”

“ Possibly Heeia Kea Boat Harbor, Boss.”

“ What kind of a boat, Tony? Did you get a fix on it?”

“ Fishing vessel, in ill repair.”

“ Wow, that really narrows it down.” Now it was Parry who was sarcastic. “What about its call numbers, its goddamn name, the captain?”

“ Sony, Boss… couldn't get anything specific on it, except that it sailed for Molokai.”

“ Molokai, huh?” Parry's thoughts came in a plethora of recall and questions. Molokai had been home to Lopaka Kowona in his childhood. It would follow that he'd race for some safe place, somewhere he felt comfortable. On the other hand, he'd been banished from that place by his chieftain father. And people like Kaniola were sending messages that were going counter to one another…

Tony kept talking. “Even the wharf rats were guarded about it, but I loosened some tongues with a few greenbacks and, well…”

“ And well what?” Parry threw his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up.

“ Sounds possible that whoever boarded Lopaka was maybe a family member or members.”

This gave Parry pause, recalling how deftly Kaniola and Lopaka's aunt and cousin had played him. Wouldn't touch Lopaka with a ten-foot pole, huh? But why would Kaniola aid and abet his son's killer? How could he? For the cause of native rights maybe, all that self-determination crap? An order handed down by the PKO? Possibly, for some more fanatical members had already proven that they could be dangerous when they had George Oniiwah abducted, and Kaniola did have his grandchildren to think of, not to mention his wife.

“ Destination Molokai confirmed by more than one?” Parry now asked.

“ One or two said Maui… but the consensus was the closer island, yeah.”

“ Really?”

'That's what everybody's saying.”

“ Everybody?”

“ Everyone that's talking, that is.”

“ You haul anyone in on this, do any shakedowns? Make any arrest for aiding and abetting?”

“ No, nothing 'long those lines, but I'd be more'n happy to start on that course, if you-”

“ What do you think, Tony? I mean about the reliability of the information?”

“ I think it bears looking into, Chief.”

“ Why?”

“ I dunno… same reason I believed George Oniiwah was innocent. 'Sides, these are kanakas we're talking about.” Parry let out a breath of exasperation. “What is that supposed to mean, Tony?”

“ Kanakas have a lot of great qualities, strong hearts, pleasant manners, generous natures, even good diets, I hear, and I grant you that once a friend always loyal as hell, but a crafty ability at conspiracy? That's for us pie-zanoz, heh? Just isn't something I'd expect from the Hawaiians, Chief, not even the PKO.”

Parry considered the wisdom being hoisted on him by Gagliano, an Italian-American FBI agent passing judgment on the entire Hawaiian race, saying they were incapable of shuffling off one of their own and keeping it a secret. And even if it were marginally true, what did this say about Parry's own foolishness, his being snookered by Kaniola's “golly gee, friendly Mickey Rooney” imitation of the night before? Sure Parry was fatigued, overworked and overtired at the time, but he should have seen through the masquerade. Joe knew that he'd be coming to have it out with him, so he'd prepared a welcoming. Reaching for the gun had been a nice touch, as was the innocent-eyed and protective secretary.

“ For money,” said Parry, “I don't know a lot of people of any stripe, Tony, who wouldn't turn on their own. What about that reward? Did the info get to the press?”

“ A $50,000 reward was posted for information leading to the capture and conviction of Lopaka Kowona.

'This morning.”

“ Somebody'll tum in the bastard.” Parry breathed heavily into the phone, silent a moment, giving his next move some thought.

“ I know you got word to the contrary, Jim, I mean that he's somewhere in the Koolaus, but I've got my doubts now.”

He thought again of Kaniola's having so completely faked him out. “Yeah, I got word to the contrary, Tony.”

“ You trust it?”

Without answering Tony, he said, “Look, you think you can manage with the mountain search? We've got no choice now but to see it through, and it'll give Scanlon something to do, and since we've already called out the goddamned U.S. Army…”

“ Sure, sure, but what're you going to be doing, Jim?”

Parry had climbed from bed and was pulling on a pair of trousers, balancing the receiver between neck and jaw. “I'm going to make arrangements to get to Molokai.”

“ Good move, Jim.”

“ I hope everyone else thinks so.”

“ Hell, you can get clearance, if that's what you're worried about. Now that this thing's cracked open, you ought to be able to write your own ticket.”

“ You'd think so, Tony, but the bureau can move very slowly and in mysterious ways at times, especially if we don't have compelling evidence.”

“ You got clout on your side, Jim. You're the chief here. You call the shots.”

“ Wish it were that simple, Tony.”

“ Nothing's like the old days.”

“ No, no… nothing is.”

They hung up and Parry wondered how best to deal with his suspicion that Lopaka Kowona was off the island of Oahu, possibly on Molokai, possibly elsewhere. It occurred to him that the information picked up by Gagliano was not so random and lucky as they might think; that it, too, could have been planted to throw them off Lopaka's trail.

Suppose the murderer did board an old island vessel at Kaneohe Bay. Who would know the boats better than Ivers? Ivers knew every scum-bucket and lowlife on this and all the islands. He'd made it his life's work to know, since he loved the old vessels and he hung about the wharves more than any man Parry knew.

Skipping breakfast, Parry rushed from his place to drive across the city to see Nate Ivers in his hospital bed, to wake him up if necessary. This morning, he'd pick the other man's brain on this score, see what popped out…

Meanwhile, the County Sheriff's Office on Molokai had to be put on alert, and although it was likely too late for them to screen every boat in every harbor of that island, he made the call anyway, getting Dispatch to put him though to the other island officials, beginning with the area FBI field operative there. Parry would also have to convince his superiors that the venue of the case had shifted from Oahu to the outer islands. This would not be so simple as it appeared on the surface, because every other law- enforcement agency, plus the U.S. Army, was currently on alert that the killer had been contained on the island of Oahu and was most likely hiding somewhere in the vast Koolau Range.

The island wisdom and island mentality that still prevailed locally in many sectors also stretched all the way to D.C. when it came to Hawaii. D.C. still thought that getting away from the Honolulu Police Department and FBI was an impossibility given the fact all escape routes were bounded by ocean.

“ It's a goddamned island, Parry!” his superiors had kept repeating long distance. “Why can't you find and stop this motherfucker!” Certainly an island by definition, no matter its size, and Oahu-third largest of the Hawaiian chain with 608 square miles-held eighty percent of Hawaii's population, with seven hundred thousand people in Honolulu alone. Add to this three million tourists swelling her population annually, and it became clear that this was no Martha's Vineyard, Nantucket or circular seacoast isle with only a certain, limited number of hiding places. Never mind the shifting terrain, that areas of the landscape were lunar, mountainous or rain forest, never mind that a man could disappear here as easily as he might in the northwest Rocky Mountains, even more effectively actually, given the lush, year- round vegetation here. Still, the only means of leaving the islands was by flight or ship, and since all steamers, pleasure craft, fishers, and cruise ships had been covered along with all flights out, it followed with syllogistic logic that it must be inevitable that Lopaka Kowona would have by now fallen into their net.

Parry wasn't so sure. Lopaka was the son of a chieftain, and perhaps the people protecting him for their own misguided or perverse reasons were more cunning than most non-natives were willing to give them credit for. Lopaka knew the islands far better than any of his pursuers. Parry feared he could well have escaped Oahu, and that he might hold out indefinitely against modern law enforcement by returning to the wilds of Molokai, if not some even more remote island in the chains, say Kahoolawe, where they weren't even looking for him. Then he recalled that Joseph Kaniola had indeed suggested Molokai as a possible place where Lopaka might seek help.

Kowona had as yet to meet his yearly quota of victims. Molokai, Maui and the largest of the chain of islands, Hawaii, were all favored tourists islands where the population and bustle would help him fade into the more urbanized areas. He had harvested human lives on Maui before. He knew the terrain there. He had worked on a ranch there, subsisting as a cowboy, and a cane cutter before that. There were no major metropolitan centers to rival or even come close to Honolulu, and yet he'd managed in his grim calling there for four years. And Maui's population since he'd left had swelled to one hundred thousand, and the island remained the most popular tourist attraction alongside Oahu and Honolulu, playing host to two million visitors annually.

The other islands, and especially his homeland, would not grant the Trade Winds Killer the sort of anonymity that he required. Besides, he'd had ties before in Maui, so he could possibly take up where he left off, working and earning enough to put a down payment on a used car until voila, he was back in grisly business.

The local expression on Maui was Maui no ka oi, meaning that in everything Maui was the best. The old expression took on new meaning for Parry as his best choice for an explanation of the disappearance of their chief suspect in the mutilation murders on Oahu.

Parry imagined the monster hiding there on Maui, changing his name and appearance as well as his habits-if he could-which could mean his total disappearance, especially if no one pursued.

Major crimes had seldom occurred in the islands in the past because there was limited access to escape, but now that was no longer true. Still, what better way to hide than in plain sight?

Parry punched the buttons to his Oahu headquarters again and asked they patch him through to Maui County authorities, getting an old friend on the line and warning him to alert all officers patrolling the island to be on the lookout, particularly the harbor patrol. Even as he said it, Parry sensed the alert had come too late. He had been in touch earlier with Maui's Mike Ulupo, who was the FBI's contact man on the island. Ulupo had researched Lopaka's background and the time he'd spent on Maui, forwarding the information to Parry the day before. This came after Hal Ewelo, owner of Paniolo's, began finally to open up about what he knew regarding Lopaka Kowona in order to save his own neck, little knowing they'd filed separate charges of murder in the Oniiwah case which precluded any deals being made. Paniolo's proprietor was going down for his part in Oniiwah's death, hopefully a life sentence. Sometimes Parry wished there was a death penalty in his state, and this, along with the Trade Winds case, was one of those instances where such a penalty was more than warranted, he felt.

He broke off with Maui now and silently cursed Joe Kaniola, whom he could no longer understand. Why would he help a man who had killed his own son? Was he that warped by his own political views? Could the man actually be harboring this monster merely because Lopaka's blood was “royal” Hawaiian? And because any apprehension of Lopaka Kowona on such atrocious charges would prove an embarrassment to the rising kanaka power base, the new establishment?

God, had they all sunk to such levels?

He could believe that the U.S. Government might resort to any underhanded trick possible if the killer had been shown to be a white sailor or soldier; he knew that by white standards and thinking Lopaka, by virtue of having any percentage of Hawaiian blood, was labeled a non-white and a prime example of how a man could be “tainted” by savage blood. It went without saying that Caucasian prejudices, bigotry and fears would run rampant in and out of private circles, in and out of the press. Still, what motivated Kaniola in all this? Was he a man willing to forget his own son's ruthless murder for the sake of appearances? It seemed unbelievable, yet everything pointed toward Joe Kaniola's intentionally leading Parry away from Maui as a possible destination for the fugitive by suggesting that Lopaka had taken to the mountains of Oahu.

Why? Why? he wondered over and over without answer.

“ And who's going to believe it?” he asked himself aloud between calls.

It was as if Lopaka Kowona, the Cane Cutter, had been swallowed up by the earth; neither the all-points bulletin nor the U.S. Army, working in cooperation with the FBI and the HPD, could turn up any sign of the man the press was now calling the Monster of Maui, as his personal history had him in Maui for several years previous to his arrival in Honolulu. On Maui the fire-haired Lopaka had worked as a cowboy at the same ranch where Paniolo had been a wrangler. Before his cowpunching days, Lopaka had been a cane cutter on Maui.

Jim Parry had supplied most of the background on Lopaka from sources he had on Maui. Information also came down that both Lopaka and Paniolo Ewelo could be placed on the island during a time when a series of disappearances had had authorities there scratching their heads. Could the two have worked as a murdering duo? Not according to either the evidence gathered at Lopaka's grisly cottage, or Jessica's findings regarding the deaths of Alan Kaniola and Thom Hilani.

U.S. Army teams and their dogs were now scouring the jungle above Lopaka's repulsive bungalow, everyone now aware of just how dangerous this butcher could be. Jessica had remained at the makeshift outpost along a paved highway, halfway up the mountain. She now saw Jim Parry's Stealth winding its way along the road as Jim drove the circuitous path toward the command post. She walked over to greet him when he opened the car door.

“ How's the search going?”

“ You really want to know?” she asked.

'Tell me some good news, will you?” His plea hung in the thin air for a moment as he glanced around at the operation.

Jessica shaded her eyes against the afternoon sun, which was more intense than the noonday sun in D.C. “Only good thing is that since Kowona's gone into hiding, the killings've ended.”

“ So far's we know, you mean.” His smile was easy and sly as he handed her a plastic thermos cup fdled with black Kona coffee and a careful blend of Jack Daniel's. They were high enough up the mountainside that it was cool here, even in the bright sunlight. “Thought you could use a little kick,” he warned.

“ What, I'm not hot enough?” she asked playfully.

They stood halfway up the face of a mountain, watching intently a platoon of weary men in army fatigues searching alongside dogs for any sign or scent of Lopaka Kowona.

Parry studied the lay of the land and then the layout of their makeshift headquarters: an unpaved, red-sand parking lot outside a small grocery store, nestled among the foothills, serving a shy, retiring community of peaceable island dwellers, both well-to-do and otherwise up here, who'd carved out a little place of their own. Even the houses up here, tucked away behind thick greenery and blooming mango trees, seemed to be hiding from this influx of machines and human activity on the mountain. The only exception was the store and the little man who owned it, a Korean who knew opportunity when he saw it; he'd been peddling packets of peanuts, raisins, candy and Twinkies along with soft drinks and coffee to the army that had descended on the area and had bivouacked at his doorstep. He looked as if he had God to thank for his sudden prosperity, but that thanks would have to wait until after the end of a business day.

“ What about the homes in the area?” asked Jim, looking over an aerial map on one of the tables here. “Have they been canvassed and cleared as possible hiding places for our man?”

“ Yes, all done within a fifty-mile radius,” Jessica walked him to a second rickety table below a tent where she pointed to a map held down in the wind by stones. “No irregularities, no suspicions reported, and no one's seen a hair of this guy's head.”

“ Then we move out to a hundred-mile radius. Give me the radio. I'll make the order.”

“ He's not here, Jim,” she softly said.

He looked curiously at her as she stared off into the lush distance. “Just how do you know that?”

“ If he hasn't been flushed by the dogs by now…”

“ It's a bastard of a mountain range, Jess.”

“ The dogs've picked up no trace of him. If he were here, or if he'd been here…”

“ Do you propose we just give in already? Tell everybody in the islands it's over, that he's given us the slip?”

“ Just being practical. Don't forget, I know something about hunting, and this hunt?” She paused and pulled tiredly at her aching neck with one hand. “Just isn't panning out, Jim. We're looking in the wrong place.”

“ Any suggestions?” Jim's frustration was like a jagged file against his words. “He's either the goddamned invisible man or he's somehow gotten off the island.”

“ Bound for where?”

“ We've checked and double-checked all the airlines, including the island-hoppers and chopper lines. No one boarded Lopaka, so he didn't fly out of here.”

“ Then he got aboard a ship or a boat of some sort.”

“ You been talking to Tony?”

“ Of course I have.”

“ Look, the Harbor Authority wasn't alerted to the emergency as quickly as the airlines, but they claim there've been no irregularities.”

“ Come on, Jim.”

“ Regardless-”

“ How many times do those guys look the other way?”

“- regardless,” he continued, “we radioed every ship that left port yesterday. We're tracking every destination, and we've got agents waiting at each destination port. Each vessel will be thoroughly searched. So we've long ago assumed a correct posture there, and we've got every ship's master cooperating.”

“ So you covered the big ships, but what about the fishing vessels that work the islands?”

“ They're all accounted for, according to the harbor patrol.”

“ And if there was an unscheduled boat in a slip the other night?”

“ Assuming such… that he got a boat out. Where'd he go to?” he pointedly asked. “Best guess… hunch… anything?' Parry was feeling his way in the dark, looking for corroboration for his own amorphous theory, looking to form it into a conviction, to convince himself he was about to do the right thing.

“ Some safe harbor, or where he feels at home,” she suggested. “Perhaps… maybe Maui? He was comfortable there once.”

“ Again I'm ahead of you, Jess. I've already alerted authorities there. They're on the lookout for Lopaka, armed with his photo. So far, nothing.”

“ Now whata we do?”

“ Keep our fingers crossed. Hope he makes a slipup? Whataya suggest?”

She gritted her teeth and returned the empty coffee cup to him. “That's not good enough, Jim.”

“ I agree wholeheartedly, dear Doctor.”

“ Talk is cheap, Jim. We've got to take some action and we need to do it now.”

“ What the hell do you think I've been doing with my days and nights? What the hell do you want from me, Jess? Miracles?”

For a moment, they glared at one another until she relented. “I'm sorry. Just have every nerve rubbed raw by this butchering bastard. Something about this beast that's primal. Savage monster's worse than Matisak and the Claw combined. I'm sorry but…”

“ No apology necessary.”

“ I had no right to-”

“ Shhhhh! Tell you what, Doctor. Maybe what we really need is a chance to completely clear our minds. I don't know about you, but what clears my soul is a good dive.”

“ What's that?”

Birds chirped and darted in and out of a nearby kukui tree grove.

“ Maybe it's time for a return visit to Maui for you; you could take up where you left off. Get in some diving before you're called back to D C.”

“ What, just forget about the case and go off diving? Alone?”

He smiled. “Who said anything about being alone?”

She smiled brighdy and looked long into his beaming eyes. “A few days' diving does sound great,” she admitted. Then with an accusatory tone, she asked, “Just what'd you go and do, Jim Parry?”

“ Arranged a little excursion for us. Maybe get in a day's worth of diving. Whataya say? Come on…”

“ How long? A day, two, three?”

“ I know it's not much time, maybe get in one day's diving, but it'll be made up in quality, I promise. You haven't really seen the islands until you've seen them by helicopter.”

“ Helicopter? Is-sat right?”

“ That's right. A few days, all expenses paid, kind of a reward for giving up your vacation for us.”

“ Reward? Hell, Jim, we haven't even apprehended the bastard yet, and you're doling out rewards? Some people might view it as something other than a reward…”

He ignored her protests. “Whataya say, Jess?”

“ I'm paying my own passage,” she insisted.

“ That's not necessary. This is on me.”

“ Ahhhh, I don't know.” Could get sticky, she thought.

“ We can argue on the chopper.”

“ We do that well anywhere, don't we?” She smiled.

“ You're getting quite good at being contrary, yes.”

She gave a mock frown. “All right, when do we leave?”

“ Soon as you're packed. I've cleared the way for us, and Tony's been placed in charge here, so there's absolutely nothing standing in our way.” He suggested she get her things together and place them into his car, handing her the thermos he'd brought as well. She obeyed as he lifted the radio mike and called for Gagliano, looking over his shoulder to be certain she was out of earshot for the moment.

Gagliano, who was somewhere up in the mountains with the armed forces and the HPD officers sent by Scanlon to assist, acknowledged his call. 'Tony, I want you to return to conduct the search from command, here at… at…” He looked over his other shoulder at the sign on the Korean's store which read Kawaohomaenape's. Obviously, the Korean had bought out the establishment from a Hawaiian owner but had retained the sign. 'The store,” Parry said, giving up on pronouncing the name. “Dr. Coran and I are outta here, Tony, and next time I get in touch it'll be from Maui. You got that? Out.”

“ Maui? Don't you mean Molokai, Boss? Over.”

“ Maui, Tony, but you don't know my whereabouts, understood? Out.”

“ Sure, sure. Boss.” Gagliano's voice crackled over the radio. “How long do you think we should keep these boys out here, Jim? Over.”

“ Give it till nightfall. Over.”

“ And then?” Click.

“ Call it quits. Out.”

“ Roger that. How long'll you be in Maui?”

“ Two, three days at tops, and thanks, Gag, for setting me straight. Over.”

“ Setting you straight? Boss, I said Molokai, not Maui, remember? Out”

“ I'm aware of that. Gag. Thanks anyway. Be in touch…”

“ We'll cover your backside. Over V out.”

“ Thanks, Gag.”

She caught the tail end of his signing off with Gagliano. 'Tony's going to be upset with us. You know that, don't you?”

“ Tony knows we're doing the right thing. He even wished us well,” he said.

She remained skeptical, her eyes telling him as much. “Well, if we're going, let's go.” She started off again for his car, mumbling to herself before turning, stepping backwards as she continued toward the car and saying, “You're really serious about our disappearing to Maui?”

“ Couldn't be more serious.” He took her hands in his for a moment, warming her.

She started around the car, reluctantly parting her hands from his, still mumbling to herself. He pursued, coming round to her side, opening the door for her but barring her from entering, asking, “What're you going on about, Coran?”

“ You…” She stopped to stare him down. “You know you're just flying in the face of good sense? If the newsies get wind you've split in the middle of an investigation of this magnitude for… for some fun in the sun with your M.E. -”

“ To hell with 'em. Besides, they'll never know.”

“ But if they do, think of the consequences. Your name'll be mud not only with the coldly logical Hawaiians and Orientals here, but with the muckety-mucks in their homes on Diamond Head and Pacific Heights and with the luncheon set at the Pacific Club. Think of Marshal, who'll see to it Washington knows. Think of Scanlon, who's just waiting for you to stumble.”

“ I'm willing to risk it. What about you?” he countered.

“ Me? What about me?”

“ Are you secure enough in your relationship with Paul Zanek to follow my instructions for a little R amp; R?”

“ I'm not the least worried about my superiors, but I'm supposed to be on vacation, remember?”

“ Stop worrying about what others will think,” he said firmly. “I have.”

“ Oh, really?”

“ Really.”

“ Does that include Scanlon?”

“ Him most of all.”

“ And your superiors?” she challenged, her unerring eye pinning him to the truth now.

“ They owe me,” he countered, catching her mischievous glint, kissing her quickly and offering her a seat with a flourish of his hand like some coachman out of a fairy tale, she thought.

Once they were inside with the motor revved up, he spoke across to her. “Don't forget, I'm the Sherlock who uncovered this whole ugly business with Lopaka in the first place, and with your help, I'm the one who's brought it along this far; together we've I.D.'d this animal. The rest can be left up to others.”

“ You saying leave the collar to others? Your sure you can live with that?”

“ I can. So long's he's caught. That's what matters, after all. To see him brought to justice, right?”

“ You want to give Scanlon more rope to hang himself, right?”

“ Maybe.”

She smiled in response, feeling she understood now.

“ So, Jess”-he tried diversionary tactics-”what about your superiors?”

She laughed lightly and then looked him in the eye. “They really owe me!”

“ All right!” He gave a little cheer and a high-five sign.