The Paradise Affair

23 Sabina

The long period of kona weather finally ended on Friday. Sabina awoke to a cloudless sky of brilliant blue and a gentle offshore breeze. The temperature, as the day progressed, was a dozen or more degrees cooler. This at last was the Hawaii lauded by Twain and Stevenson — softly scented trade winds, cheerful natives swimming in balmy surf, the ocean placid and of a pleasing apple-green hue. Spirit-lifting, all of it.

She viewed the change as a good omen of things to come. And so it was, for John returned safe and sound late that afternoon. His journey to the Big Island had had positive results, though not quite as he would have preferred them to be. Lonesome Jack Vereen was dead, too — both he and Nevada Ned also victims of the “dying weather,” Sabina thought but did not say when told. John, fortunately, was not responsible. His account of how Vereen had died, of the nonexistent feathered cloak conjured up by Stanton Millay that had brought the scheming pair to Hawaii, of his harrowing experience in the ancient temple (the danger to him which he likely minimized to spare her), was related without his usual ebullience at the close of a difficult investigation.

The reason, of course, was disappointment; he had had no hand in the downfall of either man, and thus he felt robbed of the satisfaction of bringing at least one of them to justice after his long and difficult hunt. It nettled his pride, his ego. Understandable, given the somewhat vainglorious man he was, but in Sabina’s view, not particularly valid.

“You recovered our client’s stock certificates and all but one of the bearer bonds,” she said to him. “That is the important thing, my dear — that, and the fact that those two scoundrels will lie, cheat, and steal no more. Mr. Anderson will be very grateful.”

“I expect so,” John admitted. “But I still wish I had been the one to end Vereen’s foul career, if not Nagle’s.”

“Yes, but think of the difficulties his capture alive would have entailed.”

“Difficulties?”

“Transportation of the prisoner to Kailua, to Hilo, to Honolulu, to the police. Explanations, questions, written statements... a lengthy, arduous, and disagreeable procedure. This way, you have been saved all of that.”

It was plain from his expression that he hadn’t considered this. “I suppose you’re right. Still...”

“I know I’m right,” she said a touch ruefully. “I spent most of Wednesday and part of yesterday in a similar procedure with the Honolulu police.”

“You did?” Surprise made him blink and then fluff his beard. “For what reason?”

“Well, I had a professional adventure of my own while you were gone.”

“What sort of adventure?”

“One you wouldn’t have minded sharing. The next-door neighbor, Gordon Pettibone, was shot to death in his locked study early Tuesday morning. It appeared at first to be either accident or suicide, but it was neither. He was murdered.”

“The devil you say. But how did you become involved?”

She explained in detail — how she first learned of Pettibone’s death, how her aid had been enlisted by Philip Oakes, and how she had deduced the explanations for the crime’s complexities.

John was genuinely impressed. “A stellar piece of detective work, my love,” he said. “I couldn’t have done better myself.”

“Praise of the highest order,” she said with only a hint of irony.

“That lecherous fop Oakes must have been thrilled. Death by homicide doesn’t invalidate his uncle’s insurance policy. He’ll collect the full twenty thousand dollars.”

“Thrilled for that reason, and because his uncle’s death released him from bondage and Miss Thurmond’s arrest removed her from his life as well. The property is his alone now, at least until the will is probated.”

“He has access to enough money to pay our fee, I trust? We won’t have to wait until he collects the insurance?”

“Well, actually, John, I didn’t charge him a fee.”

“You didn’t? Why the deuce not? He didn’t expect you to investigate gratis, did he?”

“No, he offered to pay our usual rate, but I’m afraid I declined.”

“Declined?” He gave her a half-pained, half-reproving look. “Why? Were you giddy from the heat?”

“Perhaps. But since I have no professional standing here, it seemed a reasonable thing to do at the time.”

“It’s not a reasonable thing to do at any time, professional standing or not,” John said. “Well, we’ll soon rectify the error. You will present Philip Oakes with a bill for services rendered and I will make sure he pays it before we leave Honolulu.”

Sabina didn’t argue. She was not always in accord with John’s obsession with the almighty dollar, but in this particular case she was. That lecherous fop Philip Oakes blessed well ought to pay and pay handsomely for her services!