Wings in the Dark (11 page)

“Are you going to follow them, Mr. Donovan?”

I started the car. “I know where they're going.” They were taking Fanny to the station. I didn't know whether they'd arrested her or if they were just going to interrogate her.

Laura stretched then glanced at her watch. “It's after one. Where're we going?”

“Back to Billy's hotel.”

We headed back to the Moana Hotel. I checked the rearview mirror as I stopped at a light. For several blocks, I'd kept my eyes peeled, sensing something wrong. I couldn't shake the feeling we'd picked up a tail.

Laura braced her feet against the floorboard and held on to the dash with a white-knuckled grip. “Hold on, Billy.”

I glanced both ways and mashed down on the accelerator. I sped through the red light and skidded the tires as I turned the corner at the first intersection. I made a U-turn, parked on the curb in front of a dry goods store, and kept the engine running.

Billy yelled, “Wow! That was great.”

Laura laughed. “You'll get used to it.”

As the cars passed us, no one so much as glanced our way. I wiped my damp palms with a handkerchief. Maybe I'd lost my touch, but I didn't spot anyone following us. Nevertheless, I took side streets and alleys to the hotel.

At almost two in the morning, the desk clerk stared at the rip in Laura's dress and my muddy trousers and torn pocket. He refused my offer of a sawbuck to ring Amelia's suite, but when he recognized Billy, he made the call.

We rode the elevator to the penthouse. When the elevator operator opened the door, I clapped Billy on the shoulder. “You did good tonight. Your old man would've been proud.”

Billy smiled. “You think so?”

I nodded and knocked on the suite door. With her husband on the phone behind her, Amelia greeted us and let us in. Who would he be speaking to at this hour?

Putnam slammed the receiver down and gave Laura and me the once-over. “Looks like you might have run into some trouble. You find anything that might clear Amelia?”

“I'm not sure,” I said. “I think whoever killed Kalua wants to prevent Friday's flight across the Pacific by making Amelia a suspect.”

Amelia's eyes widened. “Who would want to frame me?”

“So far we've turned up two possibilities. Hawaiian Royalists plotting to remove American influence and restore the monarchy and—”

“Then maybe Hank's brother, Ihe, is connected to the murder,” Amelia said. “He's involved with the Royalists.”

Putnam cocked his head. “What's the other possibility?”

“Fanny Chandler.”

Putnam burst into laughter.

“It seems Kalua took a liking to her from the moment she arrived in Hawaii.” I nodded to Billy. “Perhaps you should start from the beginning.”

The young man pulled out his notepad but barely glanced at the pages as he recounted the trip to Kalua's office with meticulous precision. He described the implication of Ihe's letter to Hank.

Billy described how we discovered Kalua's appointment book and Fanny Chandler's name in it. He related the confrontation with the three teenage thugs but left out the parts about leaving his Giants hat in Kalua's office and the gum-swapping kisses with the pretty Hawaiian girl.

Putnam looked more skeptical than Amelia. “Donovan, is this true?”

“He downplayed his role in getting us out of a jam after the cops showed up at Kalua's office but, other than that, everything happened the way Billy described it. Laura found the book with Fanny Chandler's name, phone number, and address with several ‘dates' thrown in. And we encountered a bit of trouble after we left by way of the fire escape. Young Mr. Thornton proved more than resourceful.”

Amelia shook her head. “Hank Kalua was old enough to be Fanny's father.”

“That's not all.” Billy continued with our visit to Fanny's apartment, where she confessed to the affair with Kalua and the gun in her kitchen. He also shared my suspicion that Fanny might have sabotaged Amelia's plane.

“Sweet, innocent, hardworking Fanny Chandler!” Amelia dropped into one of two white leather chairs. “I can't believe she became involved with Kalua.” After a quick glance at her husband, she looked at Billy. “I thought she…you and her…”

Billy gasped. “You…you knew?”

Putnam chuckled then cleared his throat. A stern expression swept over his face. “We both knew.”

Billy's mouth dropped open.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ticking of a clock on the fireplace mantel. George headed to the door and held it open for Billy. “Why don't you get some rest and type up a report in the morning?”

Billy stopped in the doorway before Putnam closed the door. “I'm sorry, Mr. Putnam. I know you have rules. If you'd like me to submit my resignation, I'll understand.”

Putnam shrugged. “Some rules are hard to follow. Now get some sleep.”

When Billy left, Putnam rubbed his hands together. “From the looks of it, you could both use a belt. Scotch?”

“Sure.” A drink sounded terrific.

“A small one.” Laura sank into the soft leather chair beside Amelia.

After he gave us our drinks, Putnam handed Amelia, a teetotaler, a club soda.

I dropped on the couch. “How much do you know about the Royalists?”

Putnam poured himself a glass of scotch. “I know they'll stop at nothing to return Hawaii to the way things were in the old days. I checked into Hank Kalua's background before agreeing to come to Hawaii, and discovered that he and his brother didn't see eye to eye. But I didn't know it involved the Royalists until Kalua let it slip at a New Year's Eve party.”

I took a long swallow. If the Royalists didn't get the cops to arrest Amelia for Kalua's murder, I had no doubt they'd go after her directly.

Putnam finished his scotch. “I've met Ihe. He doesn't come across as a political fanatic. He runs the family pineapple plantation. He's a man of the earth, while Hank made his fortune cozying up to American interests.”

Longing for the old days didn't make someone a fanatic or a murder, but I couldn't rule him out until I had a chance to size him up. I finished my drink and stepped onto the balcony.

A cool breeze met me as I gazed out over the Pacific Ocean. Fanny was the prime suspect. She had the means, motive, and opportunity to kill Kalua, but instinct told me someone more experienced in plots and subterfuge was orchestrating a well-planned effort to stop Amelia Earhart from flying across the Pacific.

Laura joined me on the balcony. She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a lingering kiss.

“What's that for?”

She wiped lipstick from my mouth with her thumb. “Why didn't you ever tell me why you gave up being a detective?”

At the time, it had been such a big step. Back then I didn't want Laura to blame herself if I didn't make a go of things writing. “You were awake in the car? You're a superb actress.”

“I dozed. When I awoke, I didn't want to disturb your man talk. I'm glad I didn't.”

I kissed Laura. When the kiss ended, I held her tight and gazed into the room.

Putnam was sitting next to Amelia, holding her hand. In that instant, I realized I'd misjudged George Putnam from the beginning. I'd let my resentment about his publishing background and the rivalry with Empire Press cloud my judgment.

The man cared about his wife. He wasn't just focused on promoting her career. He loved Amelia.

Laura and I returned to the room and sat on the couch.

Amelia checked her watch. “It's Wednesday morning already. The takeoff is in two days. I won't cancel the flight just because someone wants to stop me.”

Her husband let out a long sigh. “Maybe we should postpone the flight a week or so.”

Amelia shook her head. “In that time someone else could make the trip from the West Coast to Hawaii. I might give the police a few more days to uncover the killer, but a week's too much.”

At least they were considering postponing the flight

Amelia must have seen the surprise on my face. “When I take off on a flight no one's accomplished before, I'm very cautious. I make sure the plane doesn't carry any unnecessary weight and I have enough fuel to get where I need to go. I'm determined to make this trip, but if someone's trying to kill me, I don't want to make it easy for them. I'm stubborn, not crazy.”

George poured himself another drink. “I'm in total agreement. The flight is postponed until the police make an arrest.”

As Laura, Amelia, and George talked about what steps to take in the morning, I closed my eyes for just a moment.

A ringing telephone jarred me awake. I'd fallen asleep on the couch. I sat up and ran a hand over the stubble on my chin. As Putnam answered the phone, I checked my watch. It was after five
A.M
.! Why had Laura let me sleep so long? And where was she?

Amelia and Laura came in from the balcony. I rose and took Laura's hand. We listened while Amelia's husband responded with an occasional solemn, “I see.”

When he hung up, he clapped his hands and grinned. “We don't have to postpone the flight. That was Detective Tanaka. They've arrested Fanny Chandler for the murder of Hank Kalua.”

I wasn't surprised by the arrest, but I wasn't convinced of Fanny's guilt.

Putnam looked like he'd just won an Oscar. “It seems your assignment is over. Go back to your hotel and”—he gave me a wink—“resume your honeymoon.”

I shook his hand. “Sounds like a terrific idea.”

“Thank you for everything you've done for me.” Amelia hugged Laura then shook my hand. She glanced at her husband, who was making another phone call. “For us.”

Laura and I didn't speak as the elevator operator took us to the ground floor. Getting away from George Putnam's control and back to quiet days and romantic nights of our honeymoon sounded perfect, but I couldn't shake my concern about Amelia.

Outside, we headed for the Oldsmobile. Laura took my arm. “I bet you're relieved. The case is solved, George is happy, and your publisher will think you're a hero.”

I couldn't just walk away. If the cops got it wrong, Amelia's life could be in danger. The real killer would still be determined to prevent the flight.

“What would you like to do tomorrow, darling? Surfing lessons or just hanging around in our private cove? And tomorrow night, let's go back to the Mambo Club!”

“I'd like nothing better.” I opened the passenger door and Laura climbed in.

A few blocks later, Laura muttered to herself.

“Did you say something, sweetheart?”

“I said I've seen that look before.”

“What look?” Was I that obvious?

She bit her lip. “The look when you think the police have arrested the wrong person.”

She drummed her fingernails on the seat between us. “You don't think Fanny killed Kalua, do you?”

“You're going to be the kind of wife I won't be able to hide anything from, aren't you?”

“I already am, darling.” Laura smiled. “Well, am I right?”

I should be clicking my heels to abandon the investigation. I was out from under Putnam's thumb. Mildred would be happy, George was happy and the old man would be too.

Except for the teenage thugs and the feeling we'd been followed, the evening hadn't involved anything dangerous. That meant things could only get worse. Above anything else, I had to keep Laura safe.

“Jake!”

“No, I don't think Fanny did it.”

“You're going to resume the investigation tomorrow, aren't you?”

“I think I'll leave murder investigations to professionals.” I held her hand. “Let's get back to our honeymoon. I'd like to take surfing lessons tomorrow from Tony.”

I drove us back to the cabana, keeping my eyes peeled in case we were being followed. Inside it, I tried not to make it obvious I was checking that nothing had been disturbed. Satisfied, I pulled the car keys from my pocket and set my hat on my head. “I'll drop the car by the bicycle shop, leave the dough in the glove compartment, and be back in a jiffy.”

“I'll wait up.” She kissed me, then handed me her purse and smiled. “Take this.”

I shook my head. “I don't carry purses.”

“Then be careful and hurry back.”

When I stepped outside, she locked the door behind me.

I drove to Mikayla's and parked behind the shop. I slipped two tens into the glove compartment and wrote a note apologizing for returning the car so late. When I opened the door to get out, a figure stood facing me in the darkness. “Mrs. Sato?”

“Sorry I startled you, Mr. Donovan.” She pulled matches and a pack of Chesterfields from her lightweight jacket and lit a cigarette.

Although Laura and I both liked Mikayla and were good judges of character, we knew little about the woman's personal life. I'd assumed she was married, even though she'd never said so.

I got out and handed her the keys. “I apologize for the late hour. We needed the car longer than I thought. I doubled the fee and left it in the glove compartment. If it's not enough…”

“That's very generous.” In the dim light, she took in my disheveled appearance, the smudges on my trousers, and the torn jacket from the alley confrontation. “Things not go well at the Mambo Club?”

“Some unanticipated problems arose and we had to leave.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Trouble sometimes follows me.”

She scanned the car. “I see you took good care of my car. Is your wife all right?”

I thought about explaining, but I didn't want to go into details about the night's events. “We're both fine.”

She opened the passenger door and removed the money from the glove compartment. She stuffed the cash into her jacket pocket. “Thanks again, Mr. Donovan.”

I tipped my cap. “I'd better be getting back.”

As I walked down the beach, I glanced at Mikayla. Something about her behavior aroused my suspicions. Maybe it was the expensive camera she kept beneath the counter or the symbol on her wall or her constant politeness. I was from Queens. I wasn't used to that. Maybe it was nothing but my detective instinct kicking in after another murder investigation.

The early morning light began to illuminate the beach. I nodded to a teenage couple gathering seashells as I made my way toward the hotel and our cabana. The girl stared at me a moment then picked up a shell and showed it to her boyfriend.

In my tuxedo, tattered from the night's adventures, I must have looked ridiculous. As I neared the cabana, headlights flashed from a car parked near the hotel.

My hand rose to the center of my jacket, ready to draw the gun I no longer carried. I should have taken Laura's. I could have run to the cabana, but instead, I approached the car.

Two men sat in the front seat, but I couldn't make out who they were. The passenger door opened and a man I didn't want to see stepped from the car. The morning light illuminated Detective Tanaka's silver hair. He didn't look happy.

“Detective Tanaka, what a pleasant surprise.” It was a surprise, but one I could do without.

He ran a hand over his weary face. “It's six in the morning, and I've been up all night, Donovan, so let me get straight to it. I warned you about interfering with my investigation.”

“Interfering? What are you talking about?” I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I wouldn't admit it.

Without taking his eyes off me, Tanaka held out one hand and snapped his fingers. The man behind the wheel tossed something through the passenger window. The detective caught the cap, which I recognized instantly as the one Billy left in Kalua's office.

He held it out so I could see. “This look familiar?”

Tanaka knew the cap was Amelia's, and he knew I knew.

“Of course it looks familiar. I'm a Yankee fan myself, but I've seen thousands of Giants caps in Queens just like it.”

“I found this one in Hank Kalua's office.”

I shrugged. “So he was a Giants fan. What's the deal?”

He tossed it to me. “It's too small for a man's head.”

But not Billy's. I examined the inside as if inspecting it for evidence.

“One of my officers outside the hangar reported Amelia left wearing a Giants hat. She drove off with you, Miss Wilson, and young William Thornton. I think you, your wife, and Amelia Earhart were snooping around Kalua's office and Amelia left her cap. After we arrived, there was some commotion in the alley. You know anything about that?”

“Laura and I drove Amelia and the kid to their hotel at the request of George Putnam.”

“Like you agreed to check into the murder at his request.”

I'd grown weary of pointing cops in the right direction. “If you haven't already, you should chat with the doorman about what time we dropped her off.”

“One of my men already did, but the man claimed he couldn't recall what time Miss Earhart returned to the hotel. It could've been after you left Kalua's office.”

Apparently, I should've tipped the doorman to keep quiet.

Tanaka gave me the once-over. “You run into some trouble tonight?”

“Nothing I couldn't handle.” With Laura's help. I tossed the cap back to him. “I didn't get much sleep either, Detective. You're wasting your time and mine. Besides, I understand you made an arrest already in Kalua's murder.”

“Who'd you hear that from?”

“George Putnam, about an hour ago, after you phoned him at his suite.”

Tanaka glanced at his driver then gestured away from the car. As we walked away, the driver climbed out. Tanaka held up one hand. “Pete, give us a few.”

For a moment, Pete didn't move. Then he sat back down behind the wheel.

Tanaka and I strolled toward the ocean, where the gentle surf slapped the sand with a soothing sound. “Look, Donovan, I made a couple of calls to the mainland to people I trust, and they told me you're a straight shooter and know your stuff.”

“I'm flattered.” Tanaka was surely under pressure from those higher up. Amelia Earhart's fame would complicate any investigation. Her name would ensure the local press and eventually mainland press would scrutinize Tanaka and his investigators. “Miss Chandler confirmed you and your wife were at her place before we arrived. She said you found Mr. Kalua's appointment book in his office.”

She didn't mention Billy? Maybe Fanny cared for the young man. “Okay, Laura and I went there and dug around. Amelia's husband asked for our help. He's not the kind of guy one says no to. We just want to make sure Laura's friend Amelia is safe before she takes off for the coast.”

If Tanaka had arrested Fanny, why did it matter that we'd been at Kalua's office, and why was he here at dawn, asking me about it? “You're not certain Fanny killed Kalua.”

“We have a strong case. We showed Mr. Kalua's picture to Fanny's neighbors. Most confirmed they'd seen Kalua enter her apartment several times over the past three weeks. By tomorrow we should know the caliber of the bullets in Kalua's body and see if it matches the gun Fanny kept in her kitchen. We'll check her bank records. I expect to find money recently deposited to Miss Chandler's account, but Kalua wasn't going to leave his wife for her and Fanny got around to recognizing that. But she was also jealous of Amelia Earhart's fame, so she lured Kalua to the hangar and shot him, knowing the only other person there was Amelia. She wanted to create a scandal so the remaining backers of the transpacific flight would turn to her.”

“I'm sure your bosses are happy you solved the case so quickly.”

“If you know something I don't, Donovan, spill it.”

“I know if someone other than Fanny killed Kalua, then Amelia Earhart's life is in danger. If anything happens to her, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes having arrested the wrong person.”

Tanaka took out a silver case and offered me a cigarette.

“I don't smoke.”

He lit one and blew smoke into the morning air. “When I called Mr. Putnam, he sounded more than pleased we'd made an arrest. So you're off the hook and don't have to look into the matter any longer.”

“You're right. I don't have to.”

“But you're going to.” He blew another puff of smoke toward the waves slapping the smooth sand. “I'm a native. I used to run along the beach here and never encounter anyone. The Islands have changed a lot since I was a kid. Americans, British, Japanese, all pulling us in different directions. Things will only get worse if Miss Earhart's flight is successful. Your government wants her to succeed because the aviation industry will expand on the West Coast. People will travel to Hawaii in a matter of hours, instead of days.”

“The American government is backing the flight?”

“The government is more involved in business under Roosevelt. Washington thinks expansion of aviation across the Atlantic and Pacific will help the country out of the Depression and make America a world power.”

The Germans and the Japanese wouldn't be too happy about that.

“There's one other possibility we're checking out.”

“You're hedging your bets.”

Tanaka smiled. “We're doing our job. Lyle Benedict, one of the other financial backers for Miss Earhart's flight.”

“I thought he was fishing.”

Tanaka shrugged. “None of the fishermen we talked to have seen him. Apparently, he's not fishing. We want to talk to him, but we haven't found him yet. Five years ago he and Kalua got into a scrap. Cops were called, but charges were eventually dropped. Then two years ago Kalua sued Benedict. The dispute was settled out of court, but Benedict lost a lot of money and vowed to get even. Everyone was surprised when they teamed up to push this flight.”

In spite of the arrest, the list of suspects continued to grow.

Tanaka pulled a business card from his suit coat pocket and handed it to me. “I want to make sure we got the right person, and like you, I want Amelia Earhart safe.”

“You do?” Until now I wasn't so sure.

He crushed out a cigarette on the sand. “If she's not successful, someone else will be. Miss Earhart is a real lady, and I wouldn't want anything to happen to her.”

Not on his watch.

“If you come up with anything that might help, Mr. Donovan, I'd appreciate a call.”

I slid the card into my wallet. “What makes you so sure I'm not going to drop my inquiry?”

Tanaka grinned. He tossed Billy's cap to me and headed back to the sedan.