Mele Kalikimaka Mr Walker (24 page)

‘Hello. It's Mr Norton again. Is Ms Hazlewood there?'

‘No, sorry. Ms Hazlewood not here.'

‘I rang earlier. Did you give her my message?'

‘I write down. But she in, out. Five minutes. Drive off.'

‘Was she on her own?'

‘I no see. I out back near pool.'

Les thought for a moment. ‘Okay, thanks,' he said, and hung up.

Well, that's what's happened. She did the million things, or whatever, she had to do, got rid of Monroe, then ran out the place at a hundred miles an hour to be with her silly bloody memories. She's probably had to go and buy flowers, then have a few gins somewhere to make her more gushy and sentimental.

Les made another delicious, took it over to the window and stared out over the blackened ocean at the lightning in the distance. He couldn't help but shake his head. I've got a plane to catch, I'm looking forward to going home while I'm relatively still in one piece, and this is none of my business. None of my fuckin' business. But there's fat chance of Mick getting out there, and somebody's got to warn the stupid sheila. Les turned back towards the TV and the car keys sitting on the table next to the radio. Well, I've still got the Mustang for the rest of the night. And if I'm going to drive out to Ala Moana, I won't be needing this. Norton put his drink down on the table, changed into his jeans and blue cotton jacket then caught the lift down to the foyer.

The drive out to Ala Moana was uneventful. There wasn't a great deal of traffic so Les was able to cruise along at a steady speed; however, he still kept a careful eye out for the other cars on the wet roads and the
radio off while he mulled a couple of things over in his head. Like, what am I doing here? I should be relaxing in my hotel before I leave this prick of a joint to catch my plane. He slowed down to turn left into the gates of Ala Moana Park, and slowed down some more for the first speed humps, driving past a row of outrigger canoes arranged along the grass on his right and finally pulling up alongside a small kiosk shop. The only word to describe the scene that met Les when he got out of his car was ‘eerie'. Claps of thunder rattled overhead as the wind bent all the surrounding palm trees towards the sea, and the dull lights from the kiosk and around cast sickly, crooked shadows through the trees and along the pathways. There were only about two or three cars parked along the drive and, apart from Norton, not another soul. Les could make out the tiny, arched bridge in the murky distance and behind that Ala Moana Boulevard and the lights of the shopping centre. Norton gave a double blink. Hovering above the shopping centre was a UFO — a flying saucer. There was no mistaking the shape and the blue and green and red lights as it hovered in the air. Les took another look and it was some sort of restaurant built on a tower above the shopping centre. Shit! I don't like this, grumbled Les. He was turning towards the bridge, when a strange movement of white made him jump. The wind had got beneath the plastic bin-liners of two mesh rubbish tins, buffeting and rattling them around like two small parachutes. Bloody hell, cursed Norton. What next?

He started walking slowly and quietly towards the little arched bridge, keeping to the shadows, not wishing to announce his presence so he could get on the toe
very smartly if things got out of hand, or if he was wrong and looked like making a dill of himself by being there. As Les drew nearer he could faintly hear the traffic hissing past, and he noticed that the tide had come in and that the shallow lagoons he'd seen on Tuesday had risen over halfway up the embankments. Quirky, jumpy shadows kept moving around Norton's feet from the wind tossing at the trees and the thin glow from the surrounding lights washed the two arches and steps of the bridge a pallid white, giving it an almost sad, forlorn appearance where it spanned the murky waters of the lagoon. Les jammed his hands further into the pockets of his jacket and stood beneath a tree, peering at the bridge. Then he gave a double blink. He couldn't believe his eyes. He should, but he just couldn't quite. Standing against the railing, in the middle of the bridge, was Andrea. He hadn't noticed her at first, but it was Andrea all right, wearing the same tracksuit she had on at breakfast, only she had a dark scarf over her head, tied under her chin, and she seemed to be wearing dark gloves. She was staring into the water facing the roadway with her hands clasped in front of her as if she was praying. Les shook his head. It was hard to believe anyone could be so stupid. Les moved his gaze to something in the water and, sure enough, there was a lei of blue and white flowers being swirled around by the breeze. Les shook his head again. Am I a bloody mind reader or what?

Les stood perfectly still as the wind seemed to die for a moment, and in that brief instant he could appreciate Andrea's position and the poignancy of the moment. It was tragic to lose someone you love in such
a brutal, senseless manner. Les felt glad he was watching Andrea from side-on because you could bet your life ribbons of tears would be flowing down her face and dripping from her chin into the water below. A movement coming up the stairs on the other side of Andrea made Norton tense up. A figure wearing a dark grunge jacket, jeans and some kind of boots came slowly, confidently, along the path and stopped on the bridge a couple of metres away from Andrea. Andrea didn't seem to notice at first, then, slightly startled, she looked up. Les edged a little closer to the bridge and Andrea's voice carried over to him in the wind.

‘Oh, hello, Liu,' she said. ‘What are you doing down this way?'

Liu never moved and didn't say a word; the wind picked up and swirled her jet black hair as she stared at Andrea. Norton froze.

‘Liu, it's me, Andriana. What's the matter? Don't you recognise me?'

Liu still didn't reply. She just stared at Andrea. Norton burst out from the trees and screamed at Andrea.

‘Andrea! Get the fuck away from her! Come over here! Now!'

Andrea jumped. She spun around towards Les, back to Liu, then back to Norton again. ‘Les? What the—'

‘Andrea, get away from her!' he yelled at the top of his voice. ‘That's the killer! That's Mr Walker!'

‘What!?'

The look on Norton's face and the urgency in his voice seemed to spark something in Andrea. She took another look at Liu then began moving towards Les. Les ran across the path and up the stairs, grabbed Andrea
roughly by the arm and yanked her back down. Liu came across to the top of the stairs and stared at them. Her face was contorted and her entire body seemed to quiver. Les and Andrea started edging back along the pathway when another movement to their right stopped them momentarily and stopped Liu at the top of the stairs also. It was Officer Mick Reinhardt of the HPD, looking all very policeman in his black uniform, cap and gun, just like in the movies. He came walking almost nonchalantly out of the shadows and onto the pathway.

‘I got here, Les,' he said. ‘What's going on? Hello, Andrea.' Mick turned to Liu standing on the bridge. ‘Who's the girl on top of the…'

Liu's entire body shook and her face twisted into this horrible mask of pure rage — eyes bulging, flecks of foam forming round her lips. Watching from the pathway, she reminded Les of one of those old black-and-white horror movies where the moon comes out and Lon Chaney or whoever starts changing into a werewolf. Norton would not have been the least bit surprised if hair had started growing all over Liu's face and fangs had formed in her mouth. Before Mick could say another word she took a breath, skipped forward a step and did this giant somersault over the stairs, landing as surefooted as a cat right in front of Mick. Les had never seen anything like it. Neither had anybody else. She snap-kicked Mick in the solar plexus with her right foot, making him double up and grunt with pain and shock as his lungs almost collapsed. Liu followed this with a short, jarring right to the jaw. Mick's legs gave way, his cap fell off and he tumbled sideways into the stairs, banging his head with a horrible, flat thump against
one of the pylons. If Liu's one-two didn't flatten Mick, that certainly did. He slid down the pylon onto his backside, eyes still half open, but deeply concussed and out like a light. Shit, there goes the cavalry to the rescue, thought Les. I hope Andrea's got her gun with her and I hope it's a big one.

Liu raised her left arm and pointed both at Les and Andrea, then moved her head and shoulders around, something like Bruce Lee would do before he'd go off and start to demolish the nearest half-dozen Asian heavies. She banged the heels of her boots together and two steel blades sprang out from the toes of her Colorado Montis. They weren't bayonets, but stainless steel replicas, and they both glinted menacingly and deadly in the night.

Liu started circling to her right, keeping her back to the lagoon, probably deciding to take Les out first then finish the others. Les was still trying to come to grips with what he was seeing. One minute Liu was on top of the stairs, the next she'd taken out Mick, and now she was shaped up in front of him, knives sticking out from her boots, frothing at the mouth, and above her, this flying saucer hovering in the distance. It was the weirdest, horriblest thing Norton had seen in a while. But it was no good gawking. If he didn't make a move, and soon, he'd be dead. This wasn't just some punch-up, get into it street fight. This was the real thing. Win or die. But what could he do? Liu was that fast, if he threw a punch or lunged at her, she'd have one of those blades jammed in his chest before he'd even see it coming. Even if he tried to tackle her she'd sidestep him and land one in his ribs. No matter what Les did, he was
going to cop one of those blades, hopefully only in the arm or leg, before he could grab her and maybe choke her or something. However, Liu wasn't just some woman. She was as strong and fit as any man her size and you could bet she'd know every martial arts trick in the book as well. Norton started to sweat in the moonlight, and his adrenalin was pumping furiously when another movement to his right made him look away from Liu for a split second. It was Andrea. In the confusion Les had forgotten all about her. In fact, Les had forgotten about everything. The only thing on his mind at the moment was self-preservation. Andrea was now standing on the pathway, holding Mick's .38 Police Special in a combat stance — eyes sighted along the barrel, the hammer back, ready to go.

‘So you're Mr Walker, are you?' she snarled. ‘Well, Mele Kalikimaka, Mr Walker. You bitch!'

Andrea pulled the trigger twice, sparks flew from the barrel, but the twin explosions were masked by a clap of thunder and soon blown away in the wind. The first bullet hit Liu in the throat, causing this awful gurgling gasp from her mouth along with a spray of blood. The second bullet smacked into her chest straight through the heart, and she fell backwards down the embankment and into the lagoon. She landed on her back, with half her head and one arm in the water, her right arm resting on her chest and her feet up, with the blades sticking out the toes of her boots still shining bright and deadly in the dull light from the bridge. Liu's dark hair swirled languidly in the current and apart from that there was no other movement.

‘Nice bit of shooting, Thelma,' said Norton, turning
to Andrea, who was still standing in a combat stance with Mick's gun in her hands. ‘You sure plugged that danged varmint.'

Andrea dropped her arms and they both walked over to Liu's body resting in the lagoon. ‘Fuckin' bitch!'cursed Andrea. ‘I gave her a good job too.' She walked down the embankment a little to view her handiwork, giving Liu's body a heavy once up and down, settling on the two knife blades sticking up from her boots. ‘So that's how she done it, eh?'

‘Yep,' agreed Les. ‘That's how she done it.' Les gave the body a once over himself, noticing a heavy ring glinting on Liu's right hand. He didn't bother to have a closer look; he had a pretty fair idea what would be on it.

As they stood there, the wind swirling across the surface of the lagoon picked up Andrea's lei of blue and white flowers. It drifted and spun across the rippling water before finally resting in the red-stained murk alongside Liu's head, almost like a wreath. Les and Andrea had a last look then walked back to the pathway. Mick was still slumped up, unconscious, against the stairs, a smear of blood staining the white concrete where he'd split his head open against the pylon.

Andrea looked at him and shook her head. ‘Fearless Fosdick was a lot of bloody help, wasn't he?' Then she seemed to think for a moment. ‘Maybe not. Maybe he was, after all.'

She walked across to Mick, put the gun in his right hand with his finger on the trigger, wrapped her hands around his, then lifted his arm up and fired two shots into the air. The smoke quickly dissipated and she left
Mick with his hand resting in his lap still holding his gun. The state Mick was in she could have left him holding his dick and he wouldn't have known.

‘Powder burns, Andrea?' enquired Norton.

Andrea winked. ‘You're on the ball, aren't you, Les? Now it looks like he did it. Buggered if I know what he was doing out here. Probably just followed me around — the prick. But now he'll be a police hero.'

‘You reckon?'

‘Of course. He'll put it down to brilliant detective work or something. Get a police commendation. Have a look at him, he doesn't know whether he's Arthur or Martha. So he's not going to argue when he comes to. And the cops won't. This'll wrap it all up just nicely. And if it gets down to the nitty gritty, which it won't anyway, I'm wearing gloves and there's a gun in my purse that hasn't been used.'

‘You did bring a gun with you?'

‘Yeah, just a little .380 Backup. That's why I grabbed boofhead's .38. Be like using a pea shooter against that ratbag.' Andrea smiled at Les. ‘Anyway, we'll work out what to tell the cops by the time they get here. You've signed the odd statement or two in your time, Les.'