Mana (7 page)

Tessa broke in before Lehua could answer. “Somehow the reading of it gave Lehua this power. We're not sure how.”

“It wasn't just the reading, Tessa,” Lehua said. “I played Annie's recital three times. Now I'm positive that's what did it.”

Millie gave a loud snort. “You two don't really expect me to believe any of this black magic nonsense?”

Lehua looked helplessly across the desk at Tessa. “Now you can see why I wasn't about to tell Captain Silva about it.”

Tessa pushed back from the desk and got up. “I don't know about you two, but I'm starved. Come on over to the cafeteria. I've got scrip to spare, and I'll treat you. Maybe Millie will believe better on a full stomach.”

Millie's face showed no signs of softening, but she got up along with the other two, and in a few moments they were crossing the broad expanse of Campus Way.

* * *

Millie was the first one to spot it. It was a long, sleek black automobile with heavily-tinted glass. It pulled away from the curb from the direction of the entrance, some hundred yards away and, despite its rapid acceleration, made little noise. Millie shouted, “Watch out!” reached with her right hand for the service revolver on her hip, punched Tessa away with her left hand and got one shot off at the limo before it stopped and crumpled with an ear-splitting crash some fifteen feet from them. It was difficult to tell exactly what happened.

The front bumper of the vehicle was now bent up and back through the shattered windshield. Smoke rose in wisps from the shards of glass and twisted metal that only a few moments before had been a shiny, luxurious limousine. Before Millie could get to the wreck, the smoke broke into a single flame which was followed by a small explosion, then fire spread throughout the broken mass.

A security policeman came running from the direction of the cafeteria, turned, and in a few moments was back with a fire extinguisher. The flames finally gave in to the chemicals. By that time a crowd of students and faculty had gathered around, and the wail of a siren sounded in the near distance.

Millie walked quickly back to where the other two women were sitting on the curb. “I'm a convert,” she said, her voice expressing her awe. “There can't be any other explanation for what happened. I'm going to talk to the patrolman as soon as he gets here.” Then, turning to Lehua, she said emphatically, “I'm taking you home to your apartment. You look white as a sheet, and I sure as hell don't blame you. I'll dream about that damn car for the next year.”

Lehua glanced up at the sergeant. “The car wasn't what bothered me. It was you.”

“Me?” Millie looked completely baffled.

“Yes. Just think what might have happened to you if you'd punched me instead of Tessa.”

Millie paused, thought for a moment, looked over at the still smoldering wreck as the patrol car pulled up beside it, then she slowly nodded her head. “You've got a point. Maybe it won't be the car that'll be haunting my dreams.”

Chapter 8

“It's going to take more than crazy Hawaiian spirits to interfere with my soup.” Millie had the Portuguese sausage frying and was carefully pouring the white beans she had soaked overnight into a colander before transferring them to a heavy iron pot containing smoked ham hocks. Lehua had volunteered to prepare the vegetables and was busy cutting the carrots up according to the chef's instructions, when both of them looked up at the sound of a loud knock at the front door of the apartment. Millie waved Lehua back, pulled the revolver from the holster she had hung on the back of a kitchen chair and walked over to the door, standing off to the side.

“Who is it?” she asked.

The voice was unmistakable. “Captain Silva.”

Even so, Millie was taking no chances, peering through the fish eye first and not unhitching the chain until she had verified the Captain was alone in the hall.

Grunting a greeting to the two of them, the Captain lumbered over to the couch which Lehua gestured him to. The furniture gave a futile protest at the unaccustomed burden.

“Care for a Koholau, Sam?” Lehua asked.

“After what's been happening the last few days, I'm going to need more than a beer, but thanks. I'll settle for a cold one.”

No one said anything until he had settled back with the bottle almost hidden in his huge hand.

His eyes switched from one of the women to the other. “So which of you is going to give me the first cock-and-bull story about what happened at the University today?”

“Didn't you get the patrolman's report, Captain?” Millie asked.

“Sure, but that's just bare bones, and your report wasn't much different.”

Lehua pulled a zabuton up next to the chair Millie had flopped into. They looked at each other. Then Millie, rather than trying to answer the question, asked, “What did the other eyewitnesses say?”

“Take your pick. Some of them said the car exploded while it was roaring up Campus Way. One student said she saw the driver act like he'd pulled the pin in a hand grenade. A couple of other students said the car hit a rock in the road and spun out of control. Only there's no sign any rock was there and no indication there were any explosives in the car. A faculty member claims he saw you shoot at the car, and your bullet hit the gas tank. Which is quite a stunt since the tank's in the rear. One eyewitness says a wheel came off. That would be a great explanation, except that all the wheels are still on what's left of the car. And none of the stories explain how the driver ended up brushing his teeth with the front bumper. So what's your version?”

“It did explode, Sam. That's about all I'm sure of. I did get off one shot at it, but I can't see how that could have had anything to do with what happened.”

Silva's eyes shifted to Lehua.

“That's right, Sam. It just broke into flames right in front of our eyes.”

“Any idea how the fire could have driven the block through the front end and into the back seat, or the steering wheel shaft through the driver's neck?”

Lehua winced. Millie shook her head. The Captain kept pressing them for more explanations, but neither of the women would elaborate further on what they had already said.

Silva took a long swig from the bottle. To Lehua he said, “You may be interested in knowing we tied a tag to the acid thrower's toe this afternoon. I think he died still more afraid of Number One than he was of dying.” Then, to Millie, he continued, “I'm going to have a car check by every half hour, though it's beginning to seem like a waste of time.

“According to the books, I should be calling in the National Guard to throw a cordon around this building. Anyhow,” he nodded toward the picture of the black cat on the wall opposite, “stick that in the window if you need help—not that it seems like you need any.” With that, he drained the bottle, put the empty carefully down on the coffee table, edged forward on the couch, braced his hands on it and heaved himself upwards.

As he started out the door he turned and said, “We're down to one last slab in the morgue, Lehua. Tell whoever's in charge to ease up.” Tilting back his head and taking in a deep breath through his nose, he added, “Enjoy the soup.”

The door had barely closed behind the departing Captain before Millie and Lehua broke into peals of conspiratorial laughter. “Well,” Lehua asked, “why didn't you level with him?”

Millie's laughter stopped abruptly. “I don't mind being crazy. I just don't want the Captain to find out I am.”

* * *

Lehua rated the meal as superb. Millie called it only fair. Mopping up the last of her soup with a piece of the coarse white bread Millie had made, Lehua sighed and said, “That oven has never had bread baked in it before. Now I'm afraid it will never have any baked in it again.”

“It's easy to make bread, and it's never really disappointing. Sometimes it doesn't rise, and sometimes it looks like it's going to explode, but it's always passable, and always better than that white cardboard you get in the stores.”

Neither of the women was in the mood for watching television. Instead, they began to talk about Kona, about the changes that had happened to the Village over the years, about their mutual acquaintances, about the high school they had attended which—strangely enough—sounded much the same, though twelve years had intervened between their respective graduations. Lehua asked her friend if she ever regretted her choice of occupations, and Millie assured her it was everything she had expected.

“Sure, there are bad days, but there are plenty of good ones to make up for them. Besides, Captain Silva's great to work with. What about reporting? You ever have any regrets?”

Lehua gave a weak smile. “Not until recently. I guess I can't blame what's happening on my job. At least I can't blame all of it on the job. Madame Pele's the big culprit for having uncovered that tube, and Carlo's got to take some of the credit for what's happened to me.”

“Carlo?”

“Carlo Carlton. He's the one who discovered the cave. He runs a charter boat out of Hilo; a really nice guy who had a pretty checkered career before he came to the Big Island.”

“What did he do?”

“Carlo's a Black. An educated Black, unfortunately, as he says. He graduated near the top of his class at Chicago in Business Administration. The country went into a recession just as he went out looking for a job. He says affirmative action doesn't mean a thing when no one's hiring. So he bummed around for awhile, pumped gas, bagged groceries, got more and more discouraged, did drugs and slipped into small-time racketeering. With his background, he was soon keeping the books and moving up into the big time.

“About then he came to Hawai'i on vacation, liked it so much he figured he'd stay, and began to live high off the hog—which meant getting into the rackets here. He bought himself a beautiful home, a couple of fancy cars, a nice boat. Then things began to unravel. He never did tell Bill or me exactly what happened, but his wife left him and took their young daughter with her.

“He had a falling out with the mob over in Honolulu. Somehow, he managed to salvage the boat out of the rubble, came over here with it, and lived on it before deciding to try his hand at charter services. That's how we met him. He's a natural-born sailor. He says he'd much rather be making a bare living doing what he's doing than a fortune in the rackets.”

“Has he helped you much with your current series?”

Lehua was silent for a moment. “Some, though I think he knows more about what's going on than he's told me. On the other hand, most of his contact with the underworld was over on Oahu.”

“Are you any closer to finding out who Number One is?

Lehua shook her head. “The only thing I know for sure is he has everyone he comes in contact with completely intimidated. You heard what Sam said about the acid thrower. Well, I keep running into the same stone wall every time I turn around. The closer I get to the top, the tighter the lips are sealed.”

The two of them gave a start as the phone jangled. Millie pressed the portable to her ear, and Lehua answered on the main phone. Sam's booming voice came over the earpiece. “Just checking before I hit the hay. Station says you haven't had any calls. Anything else stirring?”

Lehua glanced over at her companion who had walked into the living room carrying the portable phone. Millie picked up the conversation. “No. It's been as quiet as a morgue…like before the Tong got on Lehua's case.”

“OK. Try to keep it that way. I've left word to be notified if anything comes up. Have a good night's sleep. How was the bean soup, by the way?”

Lehua grinned at Millie and said, “Absolutely super. I think I'll trade my Chinese partner in for a Portuguese cook.”

Sam's answering grunt was followed by, “You could do worse.”

* * *

The night was uneventful. After one last check of the locks on the doors and windows, Millie and Lehua had made up the daybed, lounged around until almost midnight and finally turned in. Even then, before going to sleep, Lehua had called out from her bedroom to Millie, who had just turned off the floor lamp, “Remember the pajama parties?”

Millie laughed. “The best part of them were the horror stories we used to tell and the fun it was being scared, but knowing it was all make-believe.”

“Wouldn't it be nice if this were all make-believe?”

“I'm not really sure it isn't.”

* * *

Breakfast included oversized slices of toasted home-made bread loaded down with guava-pineapple jam. “I haven't eaten this well since I left home,” Lehua said.

“Wait until tonight. I've got big plans for supper. Speaking of plans, what do you have on for the day?”

“I'm not sure, except I wouldn't be able to stay in the apartment all day. I'd get cabin fever, for sure. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to check in with Cy. I don't want him to forget I'm still working for the paper. Maybe they've got my office back in shape so I'll be able to do some work there.”

“That's fine with me. We can do some heavy grocery shopping on the way back. Wait until I make up a list.”

As they emerged from the apartment, a patrol car slowly rolled by. The officer at the wheel gave a shaka sign and the two women gave answering waves. “Let's walk,” Lehua said. “I could stand some exercise after being cooped up so much.”

Millie looked dubious, then said, “I guess it's six of one and a half dozen of the other. You aren't going to be much safer in a car than on the sidewalk if someone's out here with a high-powered rifle.”

“You mean, he isn't going to be much safer.”

“I hope that's what I mean.”

The two of them were deep in their own thoughts as they crossed through the civic park. Lehua didn't snap back to reality until she heard the youngster's voice. “Hey, lady, let's see you do that again.”

The young Hawaiian who had spoken lofted the ball in her direction. This time, she didn't even get to raise a hand. The ball stopped in mid air, slammed down on the tarmac, went into a high, high bounce, arced toward the basket and repeated its previous performance by dropping through without touching the hoop. Lehua and Millie stepped up their pace and headed off the court.

The young basketball players simply stared in awe after them, their voices raised in wonder. “Did you see that?” “She never even touched it.” “It went in on a bounce.” “Wow!”

Millie said, “The last time I felt like this was when I dropped acid in college. Even so, I feel more out of it now than I did back then.”

* * *

The receptionist held the receiver out to Lehua as she came through the door. “For you. Want to take it here?”

“Sure,” she replied, accepting the instrument. “Hello.”

“Hi. This is Carlo. You OK?”

“Well yeah, Carlo. Why are you asking?”

“I just heard about that acid throwing.”

“I lucked out.”

“From the way the story reads, it sure sounds as though you did. That's what I'm calling you about. You've probably guessed I know more about that crowd than I've let on. Well, I happen to know one hell of a lot more. Now that they're starting to play rough, I'm going to pass the information along to you, backed with some proof I have locked away in a safe on the Angela.”

“Hey; great! Want me to come over and pick it up?”

“Uh-uh. I've got to take some tourists out in a few minutes, but I should be back by one. I'll pick up the stuff and come over the Saddle Road. Expect me about three, three-thirty. You going to be at the office?”

“No. I'll be home by then, and I'll be there all evening. I'm under police protection, and my protector happens to be a first class cook.” Lehua looked over inquiringly at Millie who was leaning on the receptionist's counter, reading the freshly-printed edition of the Kona News. She nodded her head, and Lehua relayed the invitation to Carlo.

“I've never had a cop cook a meal for me before,” he said. “I'm looking forward to it. Hey! By the way. I've got some bad news for Bill.”

“What is it?” Lehua's voice turned anxious.

“Madame Pele took back her gift. Another lava flow poured in right over the entrance to that cave.”

Lehua wasn't sure whether she was disappointed or relieved at the sealing of the lava tube that had been both the source of her current problems and her salvation.

After hanging up, she said, “We'd better buy plenty of groceries. He's a big guy with a healthy appetite.”

“There's nothing a cook likes better than someone with a healthy appetite.”

* * *

Cy pulled off his bifocals and rubbed his eyes. “The old-timers are telling me this is the most excitement they've seen at the Kona News since the ‘60 tsunami washed into the front office of the old building. You're stirring up more than killers, Lehua. The governor called and says she's appointing a commission to look into organized crime in general and the Angel Tong in particular. You're her number one appointment. She says she'll send you a formal invitation by tomorrow at the latest. I've also heard from the attorney general. He's calling a grand jury.”